I Was Really wrong this time Pt2
This one is going to
sting a bit. The good thing is that I did not run my mouth. I exercised the right
to remain silent which was an excellent thing. It took a day or so, but I finally
had my OH-DUH moment. But 1st
Something about my self-talk this is how it happens. On the outside its
completely silent, oh but on the inside, there is some severe AZZ chewing going
on with two individual components. 1. my 17-year-old self. Being totally about
what he wants and wanting it now. And the voice of reason My Father. Let us
relive a conversation that took place in the 1970’s late spring. I remember that it was not
summer as I was routinely out of town from June to August marching in my Drum
Corps. VK all the way!!! (inside knowledge
required I apologize) I made a request (that’s BS) a demand of my Dad. Who looked
at me like I had lost my mind (because I did) and said NO! Now if I withdrew my
request and apologized it would have ended there. Those of you that know me know full well that I could not let
it just lie there. I slid all my chips in (like I had cards to play) and doubled
down on stupid. Dad said, “son go into my
bedroom and get the strong box from under the bed, and give it to me.” I was
confused but complied. I got the box handed it to my dad who opened it and
pulled out this document it was the mortgage or the bank letter stating that
Eugene Oliver Crawford was the principal on the loan, and was responsible for
making the payments on the home we lived in.
He asked “do you see your name anywhere on this document” I delayed my
answer and got a resounding “ANSWER ME BOY!!!” I said (in this tiny voice)
No sir. He continued “I pay the note on
this MF, not a GD thing happens there without my permission. Now I don’t have to
give you anything but love a roof over your head and food in your narrow Azz
and clothes on your back. Don’t bring this I need BS in this conversation, but I
got your needs covered and seeing you are leaving town for 3 months to get on a
bus to go across the country playing that horn (pointing to the Baritone case
on the floor) I think some of your wants are covered too. You need to learn to approach
me with some respect and gratitude and you just might get a request, or two met.
I
learned a year later he took extra shifts to actually pay for me to live in the
Dorm in college. Ok, that what happened way back then. Well, my dad came back to
talk to me last week. Not in the flesh but in another episode of Manny’s self-talk. I had just sold my Camaro (moment of silence)
A car that I loved for funds to pay some bills, as I am preparing to see this
home and to buy another in the area. I’m comfortable in Las Cruces and intend
to stay here for a while I requested another car loan this time for 10K as
opposed to 32K so I can double up on payments to get it paid off quicker. My wife,
my pearl of great price said we need a pickup truck preferably a quad cab in
the 2004-2007 range for hauling stuff around. She said I'll need it to haul the
boys around town as well. OH, OH. Here
is where my EGO raised its ugly head. Please note what happens after this is my
internal discussion with my 17-year-old persona and the voice of reason and
wisdom which was my dad. The 17-year-old spoke and said. Woman who the F are
you to tell me what we are going to buy or not to buy. I did not finish this
thought before the voice of my dad showed up and said loudly and clearly. “What
In the F are you thinking? That is your wife. I thought you were trying to stay
married this time. You remember that whining and crying when that woman you
send back to the states came back to Okinawa married to the other guy you know
your friend that was hitting it while you were out of town. You remember asking
the Almighty for one more chance to be a dad that last time when you totally f''d
up the chance you had. I know it wasn’t totally on you, but you took the
cowards way out with the way you ended it like a sniveling BITCH!!”
“Look I know you are mad about selling the Camaro, but you said it was a business decision, and it was. So how is this her fault? No SON you are wrong, and this is why. What’s that in the driveway? A 2017 Hyundai Santa Fe that you bought for her, and she is giving it to you for a pickup truck that is not even close to being new. Finally, are you saying this used roller skate with a bed is your ultimate expression of your driving pleasure? You are selling the house. Your friend from California told you because you are an old fart you can keep the proceeds, and it is not capital gains and not put in in the new home. Ya think that you might take a piece of the proceeds and get something like a 2018 Lexus and pay cash for it? Son, you are a certified idiot” …
Now that day I’m sitting at my desk at lunch sipping my soup, and with tears rolling down my face I am ashamed of how idiotic I was for a moment. This conversation took place in total silence
to anyone looking at me because it was totally inside my head. I knew I had to come clean to the entire universe and admit my selfishness. Now today was a good day I got some stuff done. Transferred the pre-paid car washes to the Hyundai renewed my Gym membership and got a lovely haircut. What I did not do was take my bride my pearl of great price out looking for that new old truck. That wasn’t my fault duty called at work, and I was logged on to my server from the house for hours picking up the pieces from a power failure at work. Yes, I’m putting
in for the OT I need the dough. Papi has bills to pay…
