30 years ago, I knew my destiny. Well… I guess that no 10 year old boy…in the 70s…really knew how his life would pan out.
10 year old TentCamper was (besides all of the shenanigans and altercations at school) quite a happy, fun and outgoing kid. In my neighborhood, I had some very good friends and we (and my 2 brothers and 3 sisters) spent every daylight hour playing games in the woods and out in the neighboring fields.
Besides the normal…get on your BMX bike (or in my case, the yellow Schwin with the big yellow banana seat) and ride over the unstable, plywood, unrealistically angled, ramp secured only by the pile of cut firewood strewn beneath it. Or the use the whole neighborhood for a game of capture the flag…we had our favorite - Vietnam
Vietnam (the rural New Hampshire game) had several differing versions. It really depended on our mood and who was playing. We had the POW version…(the sisters were involved there), where we would capture them, drag them out into the woods, tie them to trees or make cages out of tree branches and twine. The girls really did not like this version too much. Then there was the sniper version, during which we would split into two teams…the snipers and the ‘enemies’. The enemies would be sent to the field across the street and would have to wait 5 minutes to let the snipers get into position in the woods. Please note that the snipers all carried Rural NH versions of M-16s …I think they were called Daisy Pump-Action Pellet Guns. Then the ‘enemies would have to make it through the woods…any way they could…to the clearing on the other side. We also had Booby-Trap Vietnam. You can imagine what this game involved. Watching movies like Rambo, Hamburger Hill, Apocalypse Now, Force 10, etc…we were good. I hated being one of the enemies during this version…kids got HURT. We once, completely by accident, caught my little sister in a snare that hoisted her into the air . she was dangling by one foot about 4 feet in the air for about 2 hours. I got the “wooden Spoon” for that one…My mom did not believe in “The Belt.”
Anyway…I was GOOD! Rarely got snare, never got captured as a POW (mini TentCamper could run like the wind) and only had to have lead pellets removed by mom – and a pair of tweezers on a few occasions. I was convinced that I was going to be in the military. I would have made an exceptional sniper, spy, trap setter, demolition expert (ask my mom about our TV) and I could spot the enemy “miles” away. My cat-like, stealthy, movements and reflexes would make Jason Bourne, Rambo and Jack Bauer collectively cry out of jealousy.
My mother did not allow me to join the Army…she said that the Army would not allow a boy my age…but she would still use it as a threat when we were bad (which for me I’d smile at.) She said that when I turned 18…I could if I still wanted. That was the plan…skate through school til I was 18 and then get on a copter to wherever our military needed me.
After all was said and done…it never happened. By the time I was 18…I was on…”a different” track. Leading to places more like the ‘grey bar motel.’ Every time I started thinking about it…and wanting to join…something would happen in my life that would prohibit my enlisting.
I still think about it to date. Last year I called and emailed our local Marine and Army Recruiters and Reserves to let them know of my dreams…I could hear the chuckle (even through email) when they replied that a 40 year old guy with no training…other than the self taught, rural New Hampshire business…was probably not going to make the cut.
So these days, I would like to give a big shout out to, Jack Bauer, Jason Bourne, Ethan Hawke, Michael Schofield and all of the members of The Unit for bringing my imaginary life to the forefront of my head. I am living my dreams through you!!!!
Saturday, August 30, 2008
30 years ago, I knew my destiny. Well… I guess that no 10 year old boy…in the 70s…really knew how his life would pan out.
I going to take you all back to Durham , NH…the year is 1976. I live with my mother, stepfather, 3 sisters, 2 brothers and our Golden Retriever Cinnamon. As you can imagine…the house was ‘hectic.’ Between us siblings…someone was always fighting. For the most part it was pretty amusing. I’m second oldest, I have an older sister, so I caused, instigated or was the bully in many of the fights. Some fights were physical, some emotional but they were ALL quite the show.
I have a memory of my youngest brother so mad at me(just for making fun of him) he swooped up the iron fire poker and chased me all over the house…until I was able to maneuver into my parent’s room (the only room in the house with a door that locks.) That made no difference because about 5 seconds later, after I hear some banging…I see the tip of the fire poker as it is smashing through the door. I had to jump from the second story to avoid that encounter.
On another sunny New Hampshire day…my middle brother and sister were going at it. I don’t even remember what it was all about…but what I do remember is that IT went on ALL day. At dinner that night, while our mom was still in the kitchen about to bring out our food, the two of them started up again. My brother was sitting at one end of our long table and my sister on the opposite side, in hopes that the arguing would cease. My brother kept egging her on and jabbing at her…That is until…out of nowhere, she picked up her fork and threw it (ninja style) across the table…the fucking thing hit my brother square between the eyes…and actually stuck there for 4 or 5 seconds…til we heard it clanking to the floor. ALL of us (mother included) just sat there, stunned, jaws on the floor…and wide-eyed.
After that night…we all thought twice about pushing middle sister too far. That was a scary little 8 year old.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Keeping up with the pace of life has proven to be quite the task for me these days. I know that in general, my life is a quite simple one…but that does not mean that the round object attached to my neck sees it that way.
My waking hours, each day, tend to be divided into 4 distinct mindsets…my only, involuntary, choices are the following:
tired and very unmotivated…(basically drained of life.)
short tempered and grumpy
playful and happy…actually more like childish
unfocussed and blurred…mind spinning, thoughts blurred and finding it hard to concentrate
When I sit, to ponder life…(who the heck am I?…Confucius?) I can’t help but to feel kind of stuck. Not in a way like I am going to give up or something…more like …when you really need to pee but you are in public and there are no bathrooms around and no bushes…or wind to pee into.
Now, by now, many of you know a bit about my past and know the basics of my current life. I will now take you for a dip in the swirling bubbles in my head…or as I like to call it…”my Jacuzzi.” Please be sure to pay attention and please…try to keep up.
I have a schedule and many things that need to get done each day. I get through those just fine…it is the ‘down time’ when my thoughts make even me think that I should be wearing a helmet and riding on the short bus.
An example of the string of unconnected and random thoughts that stream though the vastness of my cranium during these moments include;
-I will randomly bust out the first verse or two of Mary Had A Little Lamb (or some other nonsensical kid tune)
-Often times I can be heard barking like a large dog (while driving or walking down the street) mostly to watch the people around me looking for the beast about to attack them and finding nothing.
-I, out of nowhere, will recite a random grouping of numbers i.e. “3, 47, 25, 93, 62, 1, 7” and then act as if I had said nothing (while people give me odd looks.)
-I have moments when I will have vivid thoughts of planets, flying, war, chewing gum, pens, pizza and ants…all one directly after the other…and not knowing why I had any of these thoughts…and why my head would group such a random selection of seemingly unimportant things.
-I am known for my ‘What ifs”…what if a bird actually lived on my head? What if I could balance on my nose…without breaking it? What if I was a bee and I was scared of myself? What if clothing was never invented and everyone just walked around naked? Etc.
You may be whispering to yourself, “This guy is off his fucking rocker.” Or wondering why I am not locked up securely somewhere…or how I can make it through a day.
I think the same thing sometimes…believe me. I guess that I have just become used to the nonsense that trickles through my noggin from time to time. It used to scare me, but now…shit…it still scares me.
I know that I am not insane and often convince myself that everyone does that stuff…they just don’t admit it…or have some handy medication which makes them think that they did not have the thoughts.
Now I know that I’ve got some …’issues’ but I love my life (for the most part). I love my kids, I love my family, I love Insane Mama and her gaggle of beautiful offspring. I love the fact that I feel no fear in expressing myself. I love the fact that people love me.
So…to sum up…a Jacuzzi can be a confusing mess of jumbled thoughts…or it can be a fine place to take your clothes off, relax and enjoy life. It’s a nice mix.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
So I’ve heard that a few people have been nominated for the HOT BLOGGER CALENDAR, so I went over to check out the nominees and what did I see????
I’ve been nominated! That being the case, I figured I should post something that best represents me…the hottie that I am.
Please….ladies…I don’t usually do this for free…so don’t expect it all of the time.
VOTE FOR…. I Pee In The Wind !!!!!!!!!!!
I know that It is probably hard for you all to believe…but once upon a time…I was a child. A little tinkler – a mini pee'er. I ran around peeing on things and causing extreme havoc in every way that I could. Well…that was just sometimes. I went through a lot of phases as a little one. I wanted to; be in the military (a sniper or spy), a stunt man, O.J. Simpson, Wayne Gretzky, Indiana Jones….and a cowboy.
Yeah, yeah…I know…What kind of kid was I?...not wanting to be a fireman? OK…I am scared of fire. What the hell kind of fireman would I be?
Back to what I was trying to write about.
Now, for a number of years, and through many of the above ‘phases’ I had one special thing that rode it all out with me…my Saber Tooth Tiger tooth necklace. Now this was really a plastic replica of a tiger’s tooth…but to me…and the rest of the kids that I convinced…it WAS a Saber Tooth Tiger’s tooth. It was hard to convince most people, but I sure as shit gave it my all. Its plastic construction, visibly seem (from the mold,) its size and its weight were all working against my story. Still I did have a few kids that envied my most prized possession.
The string that it was on had to be replaced from time to time due to all of the attention that I gave it. It had basic twine, plastic string, a leather strap, kite string and even a sturdy electrical wire.
I loved and cherished this ancient, archaeological find of mine and there was not a sole on earth who could remove it from around my neck. We slept, showered, swam, played sports and went to school together…ALL THE TIME.
Here is a picture of me wearing it…during my cowboy phase (1976 or 77). Damn I’d be a cool ass cowboy (with a saber tooth tiger tooth around my neck.)
For more great stories visit Kathy
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
In the absence of coming up with something interesting and pertinent to write about today, I thought that I’d come clean on a very sensitive relationship issue. I know that this may cause some waves here at home, but…you know me….I Pee In The Wind.
Well, without beating around the bush…I’ll just come right out and say it.
I am having two love affairs! There …I said it. I don’t want you all to think that I am a bad person…or a foolish man for saying this where I know that Insane Mama will read all about it. I think that she already has some suspicions. I know that she sees me staring and smiling at them. She hears the discrete words of affection that drift from my mouth. And I’m sure that she does not miss the fireworks that go off within my eyes when I see them.
I don’t really try to hide these yearnings and strong emotions…and Insane Mama has hinted that she may be willing to share me with these two other loves. Now one of them has been my mistress for more than ten years and since that has been going so well, I picked up my newest love just a few years ago. Combined, their mix of beauty, sex appeal, no strings relationships…the fact that they will go anywhere with me and that…tingly feeling that I get inside when with them…is something that I don’t want to let go of.
When you read this Insane Mama…please know that YOU come first…always…But I do think that a foursome (all of us together) would be a great way for us to explore new things together.
That being said….I’d like you all to meet my mistresses.
The smooth refreshing wave of chilly goodness that flows from a bottle of Boston’s Samuel Adams Boston Lager mixed with the sexy wiggle of my collection of hula bobble dancers…makes me smile…every time I see them.
Wow….that was not as hard as I had thought.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Walking through the aisles of our local drug store, Insane Mama was sifting through the hordes of face creams, lotions and conditioners…shit that I know NOTHING about…Irish Spring does everything that I need. Anyway, as I wandered around the store…I just happened to find myself in front of “the goods.” Yes…by ”the goods” I mean…the section with all of the lubes, condoms…and “personal massagers.” I have no idea how I got there…I was NOT looking for them.
So, back to my story. I found it amusing to play with some of the sample “massagers” that they had out. Went from one to the next, examining them, turning them on…I NEVER touched any of then to the front of my pants! As I was having my fun checking them all out….I let out a frightened scream, “BBBBLLLLLAAAAAAAHHHHHH! Which I’m sure could have been heard all over the store.
All the sudden, Mariah came running around the corner and asked me what I was yelling about. So I explained to her what I had been doing…and then showed her what had frightened me. As I delicately picked up one of the banana shaped “personal massagers” and lifted it into the light, I pointed with my finger to the large black pubic hair caught in a seam on the ‘business end’ of the little vibrating thing.
As I threw it back on the shelf, we both looked at each other, internally puked and proceeded to remark how gross that was…while engaging in fits of uncontrollable laughter.
Did someone actually come into the store turn that thing on and stuff it down their pants?
…..Are you allowed to do that?