Random Thoughts in a Set Order

Stifled1

That's about the only thing I can come up with when people ask me to describe myself in one word. Having lived for nearly twenty-two years in an area where the biggest attraction is a yearly rodeo, I've ached for a change. As a child I walked streets that stood in shade most of the day because the building seemed to dwarf out the Sun. I'd wander around with my Mother, listless always, and wonder how things so big were made. I've since learned that these creations, like most things on the planet, were brought about through human effort and determination. I'm going to need a lot of effort and determination.2

Moving to the State Capitol, while it may seem grand topically, is not without its own problems. Smog and crime are of course on the rise, and gangs are in most neighborhoods. The economy is in the toilet, so demonstrations and activists, often more annoying than gangsters, are rampant. But still, the alternative is worse. Staying put means staying in a town rapidly dying without much of a fight, with no employment, no options for my daughters college education, and no real future for the younger ones. Life has a funny way of throwing the whole rock-and-a-hard-place thing back in our faces. Hope it's getting a good chuckle out of it. I would.3

Were it not for my brother and sister, I'd be staying put. They are both degree toting liberals working for the State, and seem to have a pretty good grasp on life and what it takes to make it work. Apparently, they teach that crap in college. Me, I'm a school of hard knocks alumni who still makes most of his money with his hands and back. Hands and back work is shot around here and they've been asking me to join them at The Office for years. Really it's Delacey. She about to become an adult with no options in a town where the best gig is the welfare line, and I just can't let that happen. So my brother and sister are, you may begin to notice, angelic to me. 4

My mother will still be here, as will Velvet, the mother of my children. She's a convenience store manager by day a dietary aide by night. She's admittedly a bit overweight, but it's not the weight that's killing her. She suffers from rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia. I'm hoping in all of this to earn enough to finally let her quit working altogether. We have our problems to work out first, though. This is merely stage one. Once we are stable enough to focus on us, the hope is that we will.5

Starting over isn't really that scary when one is alone. It rapidly becomes a much more harrowing issue when one must provide for an entire family in the process. Employment begins with a lot of lost shoe leather and quite a few not-at-this-times. Rejections that used to mean another few nights on a couch or even at the Y now mean children may not be cared for to the fullest, and may not have a stable home or know where the next meal comes from. To a child, that can be very damaging. Any idea why my mother and I always walked those towering streets so listlessly?6

My father wasn't really what you would want to call absent. He far more progressive than that and would have preferred something more like Chief of Child Ditching or something along those lines. Funny though, he always kept in contact with my older half sister that I've never been introduced to. I've never seen him during any of the years I am able to recall. Nor am I what you would call present parent. I would much prefer a moniker closer to "constant constrainer by paternal command with a loving touch". Yeah, that seems a little more realistic.7

So what's the point of my tale? It's not that kind of a tale, not really. It's more of an opening in my mind finding its way through my body, and onto the keys. It's my personal thoughts on a personal issue. What it really is, is something there's a sad lack of these days. No one writes letters to people anymore, not anything of substance. An email that takes three minutes from thought to send is ridiculous to be called communication.8

To be edited and completed by months end.