Happy Holidays
from The Daily Scream by Dan
Well, the holiday season is upon us. I don't know about everyone else, but I'm not feeling real festive this year. The bottom continues to fall out of the economy...the real estate market has tanked and people in general are acting pretty weird. Mother Nature is just adding to the fun by dumping snow and record cold temps on us here in the usually warm south.
Don't get me wrong, even with all the gloom and doom around, I still find plenty of things to be thankful for. My wife, my kids, and especially my two little monster granddaughters...Abby and Livvie bring me lots of smiles and make the days worthwhile. I don't want to forget the rest of my family either...Dad and my step-mom, my brother Jeff and his family and my sister Kristin and her brood. Somewhere out there I have another sister...but I haven't a clue where she even is...Washington state I think. Maybe someday I'll find her again.
One thing I am not all that thankful for is my birth mother...she decided to drag me home to America from Germany when I was only a few months old, so she could dump me on my grandparents (my dad's parents) and run off to Florida and play with her boyfriend. At some point, she tired of her boy toy and returned to NY...in time to flush my fish (Christmas presents) down the toilet...because they smelled funny to her...to wash my turtle (birthday present) with Ivory soap...because he smelled funny (he didn't survive the bath)...I spent a lot of time worried about how I smelled...just in case she decided I smelled and needed to die too.
Yep...dear old mom was a loving one...got bored with me and sent me to spend some quality time with her drunken parents...they had company over one afternoon to sit around and get drunk...and told me to get out of the house..."just go somewhere and don't come back until we call you"...so I walked over to a friend's house. Now, mind you, this is the same house that my mother used to go to as a kid...because her childhood friend was the mother of my friend. We spent the afternoon playing and having a good time just being kids. Around supper time, my grandmother showed up...drunk on her ass...swearing and screaming, she started beating on me with a stick. She finally got bored with that and slammed me in the car...the entire drive back to her house was filled with profanity and rants about what a worthless bastard I was. We got to her house and I was dragged from the car and beaten again. Then I was dragged into the house and beaten while I packed my stuff. The beating continued all the way to the car...several sticks and rulers were broken in the process. Once in the car the tirade began again. I was called every horrible name imaginable to a young boy. The old battle axe told me that she never wanted to see me again. We got to my home and I was yanked from the car yet again and slapped across the face several times. My mother stood by and said nothing. Over the ensuing years, that evil woman (mother's mother) never did speak to me again...she bought Christmas and birthday gifts for my siblings...but none for me. When the bitch died, my mother insisted that I be a pallbearer for her funeral. You have no idea how much I just wanted to take that casket and throw it off a cliff.
My mother went out of her way to make Christmas special. Every year she would ask me what I would like and every year I would get some crap that had nothing to do with anything I was even remotely interested in. One of the best was the year I asked for a set of screwdrivers and instead was given a guitar. I am not musically inclined...never have been, never will be. Hell, we even had a discussion about music and I told her repeatedly that I had no interest in it. Come Christmas morning I opened a very suspicious looking package and sure enough, there was this stupid guitar. I was a kid, I cried...I didn't want a guitar...I got my face slapped and sent to bed. Merry Christmas.
I will share more stories of a mother's "love" in the coming weeks.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Originally Posted 12/8/2008
Holiday Spirit
from The Daily Scream by Dan
Took a short drive to Bristol, TN last evening to see the Christmas light extravaganza at Bristol Motor Speedway. Every year the show grows bigger and better...takes about an hour to make the loop and you get to experience a bit of the high banks of the speedway to boot. If you leave there without a smile on your face, you are in need of a visit or two from Mr. Dickens' ghosts....obviously your name is Scrooge. I had the camera along and snapped off a few shots...some are ok...some leave a bit to be desired. The memories are still there...got to spend a few quality minutes with my wife, so that was an added bonus. You can see the photos here....http://www.pbase.com/woolburr/50_tn_bristol_xmas
On the trip home, I noticed what appears to be a Heisler thermal storage engine, 2 cars and a caboose in Elizabethtown, TN....I need to go back for photos.
from The Daily Scream by Dan
Took a short drive to Bristol, TN last evening to see the Christmas light extravaganza at Bristol Motor Speedway. Every year the show grows bigger and better...takes about an hour to make the loop and you get to experience a bit of the high banks of the speedway to boot. If you leave there without a smile on your face, you are in need of a visit or two from Mr. Dickens' ghosts....obviously your name is Scrooge. I had the camera along and snapped off a few shots...some are ok...some leave a bit to be desired. The memories are still there...got to spend a few quality minutes with my wife, so that was an added bonus. You can see the photos here....http://www.pbase.com/woolburr/50_tn_bristol_xmas
On the trip home, I noticed what appears to be a Heisler thermal storage engine, 2 cars and a caboose in Elizabethtown, TN....I need to go back for photos.
Originally Posted 12/13/2008
Zen and a Fairy Tale
from The Daily Scream by Dan
Fall Floater
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The haunted forest?
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from The Daily Scream by Dan
Fall Floater
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.
.
.
The haunted forest?
.
Originally Posted 12/15/2008
More Crazy Memories
from The Daily Scream by Dan
Now that I have spilled the beans on my bizarre childhood, some of the memories of it make a whole lot more sense. For example, one of my most vivid memories is of my bedroom at my grandparent's house. It now makes very good sense that it would be right off my grandparent's bedroom, since they were the ones taking care of me. For the longest time, I couldn't grasp the concept of why my bedroom would have been connected to their room.
I also have lots of memories of traveling around with my grandfather from a very young age. I guess since I was living with them, it would only make sense. I always felt like such a lucky kid...because my grandparents took me to all kinds of interesting places, to see all kinds of interesting things. One of my favorite memories were the Sunday afternoon drives, which always included a stop somewhere to look at trains. I don't know who was the bigger kid when it came to the railroad, Grandpa or me.
We often traveled to Corning to visit with Uncle Ralph (my grandmother's brother) and Aunt Clara....for some reason my memories of their house are usually very dark...dark in the sense that the inside of the house seemed to have a lot of dark colors and woodwork. They had a less than sociable Cocker Spaniel named Checkers. I seem to recall being told repeatedly that Checkers was going blind and to not bother him....but I also have a pretty vivid memory of sitting on the stairs with the dog with his head in my lap...
Uncle Ralph worked for the railroad...as a engineer. He knew of my love for trains and had promised that when I was big enough, that I would have a ride in the locomotive...unfortunately, he died before that wish was fulfilled. Some would think that might be classed as a bad memory, but I know he had every intention of getting me that ride. Two years ago, I finally got my ride...it was hard to hold back the tears...tears of joy. I know Uncle Ralph smiled that day....and so did I.
Our travels often took us to Pennsylvania. We would either go to Forkston, where my Aunt Arlene and Uncle Shorty (my grandmother's brother) had a summer home on Aunt Arlene's family plot, or to Harrisburg, where they actually lived. Uncle Shorty was anything but short...he was a fairly big character, retired from the Pennsylvania State Police as the head of the Governor's security detail. When you shook hands with him, you knew your hand had been shook. He had a grip like a vice and he expected you to have one too. It was always a contest to see if I could give him a shake that he would be proud of. Dad, Grandpa and I often joked about shaking hands and who would have a sore hand for the longest time afterwards.
Sometimes the travels weren't nearly as far, Uncle Will (yet another of Gram's brothers) and Aunt Hazel only lived five houses down the street. I liked to go there to visit...because Aunt Hazel had fish. I believe that is where the fish that my mother killed off came from...a gift from Uncle Will and Aunt Hazel. But we won't dwell on that...today is about happy memories. I remember going for a ride with Uncle Will on a couple of different occasions...and thinking...wow...we never go this fast when others are driving. Guess he had a bit of a lead foot.
There is one other memory of my grandfather that I need to share. I can remember anxiously awaiting him to get home from work, so that I could hop up in his lap and we could read the newspaper every day. Grandpa often had a cigar or his pipe while we read the paper, waiting for Grandma to rustle up supper for us. The big memory though, was Grandpa's thumbs...I still remember them as being huge...huge thumbs with huge thumbnails. I suppose to a kid three, four or five years old, that anyone's thumbs would seem huge...but I don't have that kind of memory of my dad...just Grandpa. Below is a photo of a smoker's stand similar to the one my grandfather had....except his rack was full of pipes and there was a large gold ashtray.
Time to stop for the day, before this gets much more disjointed. Thanks for tuning in.
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from The Daily Scream by Dan
Now that I have spilled the beans on my bizarre childhood, some of the memories of it make a whole lot more sense. For example, one of my most vivid memories is of my bedroom at my grandparent's house. It now makes very good sense that it would be right off my grandparent's bedroom, since they were the ones taking care of me. For the longest time, I couldn't grasp the concept of why my bedroom would have been connected to their room.
I also have lots of memories of traveling around with my grandfather from a very young age. I guess since I was living with them, it would only make sense. I always felt like such a lucky kid...because my grandparents took me to all kinds of interesting places, to see all kinds of interesting things. One of my favorite memories were the Sunday afternoon drives, which always included a stop somewhere to look at trains. I don't know who was the bigger kid when it came to the railroad, Grandpa or me.
We often traveled to Corning to visit with Uncle Ralph (my grandmother's brother) and Aunt Clara....for some reason my memories of their house are usually very dark...dark in the sense that the inside of the house seemed to have a lot of dark colors and woodwork. They had a less than sociable Cocker Spaniel named Checkers. I seem to recall being told repeatedly that Checkers was going blind and to not bother him....but I also have a pretty vivid memory of sitting on the stairs with the dog with his head in my lap...
Uncle Ralph worked for the railroad...as a engineer. He knew of my love for trains and had promised that when I was big enough, that I would have a ride in the locomotive...unfortunately, he died before that wish was fulfilled. Some would think that might be classed as a bad memory, but I know he had every intention of getting me that ride. Two years ago, I finally got my ride...it was hard to hold back the tears...tears of joy. I know Uncle Ralph smiled that day....and so did I.
Our travels often took us to Pennsylvania. We would either go to Forkston, where my Aunt Arlene and Uncle Shorty (my grandmother's brother) had a summer home on Aunt Arlene's family plot, or to Harrisburg, where they actually lived. Uncle Shorty was anything but short...he was a fairly big character, retired from the Pennsylvania State Police as the head of the Governor's security detail. When you shook hands with him, you knew your hand had been shook. He had a grip like a vice and he expected you to have one too. It was always a contest to see if I could give him a shake that he would be proud of. Dad, Grandpa and I often joked about shaking hands and who would have a sore hand for the longest time afterwards.
Sometimes the travels weren't nearly as far, Uncle Will (yet another of Gram's brothers) and Aunt Hazel only lived five houses down the street. I liked to go there to visit...because Aunt Hazel had fish. I believe that is where the fish that my mother killed off came from...a gift from Uncle Will and Aunt Hazel. But we won't dwell on that...today is about happy memories. I remember going for a ride with Uncle Will on a couple of different occasions...and thinking...wow...we never go this fast when others are driving. Guess he had a bit of a lead foot.
There is one other memory of my grandfather that I need to share. I can remember anxiously awaiting him to get home from work, so that I could hop up in his lap and we could read the newspaper every day. Grandpa often had a cigar or his pipe while we read the paper, waiting for Grandma to rustle up supper for us. The big memory though, was Grandpa's thumbs...I still remember them as being huge...huge thumbs with huge thumbnails. I suppose to a kid three, four or five years old, that anyone's thumbs would seem huge...but I don't have that kind of memory of my dad...just Grandpa. Below is a photo of a smoker's stand similar to the one my grandfather had....except his rack was full of pipes and there was a large gold ashtray.
Time to stop for the day, before this gets much more disjointed. Thanks for tuning in.
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Originally Posted 12/17/2008
2009 Calendars
from The Daily Scream by Dan
Looking for a great calendar for your home or office? If you like flowers, then check out my 2009 Gallery Calendars. CLICK Frogdawg Fotografix CLICK
from The Daily Scream by Dan
Looking for a great calendar for your home or office? If you like flowers, then check out my 2009 Gallery Calendars. CLICK Frogdawg Fotografix CLICK
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