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Post by Doug on Apr 21, 2012 14:22:57 GMT -5
And she was right. ;D
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Post by billhammond on Apr 21, 2012 19:35:27 GMT -5
Well, like most adults, I was never the same after my firstborn arrived, sweet, sweet Erica Jeanne, and when she got sick and died six years later, I felt as though I became a completely different person. My coping methods in grief were so different from those of my wife that we grew apart, eventually separated and divorced. I went back to my music, which had been mothballed for most of my 16 years of marriage. I became a much better listener, much more sympathetic toward others, much less likely to concern myself with trivial matters of life, much more likely to seek out the true and the beautiful in our existence. I found out who my real friends were and I made lots of new ones. You folks are very important in that regard, and are actually kind of a maintenance drug for me.
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Post by Fingerplucked on Apr 21, 2012 20:02:06 GMT -5
Seeing Fingerplucked naked changed me forever. Seeing Fingerplucked naked changed me forever. Oh come on. That happens to everybody. Seeing Fingerplucked naked changed me forever. BLECCHHHH ! What a way to ruin a good breakfast. Once again I find myself thinking that I should make more of an effort to read ALL the threads instead of just focusing on a few. Either that, or I should not wonder what people are still talking about in that thread that I never looked at.
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Post by omaha on Apr 21, 2012 20:06:34 GMT -5
Not looking, particularly when you decide to get naked, has proven to be a wining strategy for me.
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Post by Cornflake on Apr 21, 2012 20:08:00 GMT -5
A teacher in high school who taught me that with effort--something foreign to me--I could accomplish things. He's old now but we're still friends.
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Post by AlanC on Apr 21, 2012 20:15:26 GMT -5
I got out of Community College with a 2 year degree in drafting and spent the next couple of months drinking and smoking. I went to the un-employment office to sign up for some free money never thinking podunk Miss. would have a drafting job. They sent me to a surveying and engineering firm and after almost 40 years, I have still never collected an un-employment check.
But that is just, like, yawn, compared to AJ's, Bill's, and others- thank God for boring.
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Post by Jawbone on Apr 21, 2012 20:46:02 GMT -5
I was lost. About 80 miles away from my cheap-ass $35 a month apartment (Larkspur, Ca.) Riding on a breaking down 1968 441 BSA single piston. I pulled over and asked a guy how do I get home. His reply was, "Youngin', you can't get there from here."
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Post by theevan on Apr 21, 2012 21:18:36 GMT -5
Heh, Jawbone. Reminds me of a time when Peter and I were, uh mind-altered one day and cut class. We were running through a wheat field when we noticed a farmer, wife and boy puttering along beside us in a pickup truck. The man beckoned us and we ran up, WAY too happy and excited. He was the definition of rural droll...chewing on a piece of straw, no expression. He says "you girls lost?" (Long hair reference, I suppose) We laughed and smiled and said "WE"RE NOT GIRLS, HAHAHAHA". He looks at us a long while, pulls out the straw and says, "well, when ya find your minds, lemme know" and putters off. We watched him a good while, transfixed, then turned to each other and screamed "WAIT, HOW ARE WE GOING TO FIND HIM TO TELL HIM?!!??"
Okay, so we were easy marks.
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Post by Village Idiot on Apr 21, 2012 21:24:00 GMT -5
Love that, Evan.
(Reminds me of me).
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Post by epaul on Apr 21, 2012 21:46:46 GMT -5
Wow.
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Post by godotwaits on Apr 22, 2012 2:45:40 GMT -5
I agree with many of the above comments and admire the candour. Sometimes there are very minor tectonic shifts, that can almost go undetected. I've had many. But a big temblor for me was in 1967. They were drafting everybody, and I mean everybody. Some people seem to forget that. This was before the lottery. They tried to draft me in January. You'd file your full time student and get your student deferment, then they'd call you in for a physical (under penalty of instantly being declared 1A) and turn straight around an change your status to 1A. Good young healthy American horsemeat and fully available.
Parents were almost ready to buy colleges to keep their progeny out of harms way, or on a cheaper note, pay premium to have a psychiatrist testify to their evident insanity. One guy would drink himself into a complete gibbering idiot the night before his physical and tehn drink 13 coffees before he arrived. He'd get six months for a review. I think extremely high blood pressure was a concern. Another guy hopped on his motorcycle and moved every 3 months and diligently reported his change of address to the Selective Service Board and his paperwork would be transferred to the next board. And he'd move again. And again until his paperworked inexplicably got tossed in a circular file or lost in the mail. Travelled all over America that way. Lucky guy.
I didn't have a motorcyle. My motorcycle was my ambition. When I got my first "Greetings" in January I called the Norwalk Selective Service Board and took Ms Edith Moriarity to task and told her in no uncertain terms that I was not one of those rich kids hiding in school. I Paid for that school. Me. Ask Orem's Diner where I washed dishes. Every Friday my mother took her 50$, gave me 5 and put it aside. I was also deeply indebted to the WIlton Playshop giving me a $300 scholarship to help me. And I said taking me out of my senior year would do my education no good whatsoever to have it gauranteed to me two years later. She said ... fine. I was nonplussed. She asked when do you graduate? I said in May. Fine, we'll put your name off to next year... I couldn't believe it. OK. I gulped.
In May of 1967 I graduated from the American Academy of Dramtic Arts. Our guest speaker was Richard Kiley. On the stage sat Frances Fuller (president of AADA) Lillian Gish and Helen Hayes. AADA ws the biggest showcase in town back then. Even our exam plays, in junior year were attended by tons of people who were taking notes. And the senior year possibly even more. You were being seen. Why shit. Cleavon Little was 27 years old and had an MFA from UCLA in theater and and he still saw the wisdom of being in the Academy because of being seen. He was an enormously talented man, and already mature, and he spent most of his senior year in "McBird" at the Village Gate in the Village (of course) Us recent high school grads were duking it out amongst ourselves in throwing our hearts out into these shows. I did 4 mainstage shows and 5 workshops that year. I worked 3 part time jobs around my schedule. And every other set of classes, the morning classes, the night classes, the weekend classes that needed bodies to fill out the cast... I volunteered for all of them. I wasn't really any amount of hot shit. I was still just too young and unformed. But it was the math... be seen... statistically... some poor old fart of an agent or director would get lost in the line of his bifocals and write your name down as 'promising.' Any tiny little chink I could slip through. Well, LO, and f'ing behold. I got cast as a lead in an original that was to premier at the Circle In the Square (in the Village, of course, and at that time Cafe LaMAma was grinding Leonard Melfi and Sam Sheapard out) that very summer. And we rehearsed diligently in Harlem. Trekking through the land mines of racial unrest on the late sixties. A bunch of dithering actors. Well. The schedule of our 'premier' had to be delayed because the current production on the Circle in the Sq was selling out quite well and would be suitably extended. And since most of the stage was taken up with a huge Boiler, would be unavaialble to us. The show was called "Eh" and it was a one man monlogue of a 'boiler' 'fireman' who was stoking the coals the whole way through. It was starring an unknown actor named Dustin Hoffman.
In August, I got my 2nd "Greetings."
Now, in every case, and many of you has mentioned it. It's relevant from where you come. My great great grandfather was Senator Benjamin F Wade from Ohio, Lincolns political nemisis. Who believed in two necessities... Abolition... and the right to vote for women. It wasn't out of the kindness of his heart really, he was a lawyer, and truly believed in "Say what you do... and do what you say.." kind of pragamatist.
His two sons, who had at least a passing acquanintance with West Point, were put in charge of the Buffalo Soldiers and were involved with the battle of Saltcreek. My grandfather was a total bum of an alcoholic and didn't end up showing up anywhere. God bless him, seems like every family's got one.
My father who was 20 in 1932 at the height of the depression had scratched his way to a living and by the true beginning of WWII already had two sons and an important skill. He as an expeditor of rubber products for Pratt and Whitney engines. And he duly enlisted in the National Guard. He made sargeant and many a many of frozen nights in Buffalo would dig out the rail cars from the snow so that the engines could move out to Europe.
My uncle seved in the 8th Air Force and flew 30 missions over Germany and won the Distinquished Flying Cross and the Air Medal
My eldest brother served in the Navy, nice cushiy job working for the stars and stripes in Japan. Got drunk and hospitalized on many occasions. Next brother joined the Airbourne right out of high school. He was there at Old Miss. He was there in Turkey during the nuclear fear. And then the stupid bastard joined the Navy for an even more sudhy job and became the secretary of the XO on an aircraft carrier.
So it all came down to the same line we got from the recruiters in high school..."Who the Fuck do you think you are...?" It wasn't gonna be voluntary. Either go now or go later. But, though we lacked the schooling and the facts and the wisdom, we knew something didn';t smell right about this conflict. Equal Rights seemed the right fight to fight. But this thing over there... it smelled to high heavens to us. And all the rats went running for cover.
I thought long and hard about running to Canada. But I couldn't square it with my ambitions. How could I have a viable career in Canada for the rest of my life. Never having a clue to the ultimate Amnesty that would be declared over ten years later.
Ask yourself, at that age, "Who the Fuck do you think you are..?"
In Sept of '67 I was sworn into the US Army. A US... a draftee.
And that has made a lot of difference. There comes a time, in certain time and history, where you just got to get in line and do your fucking duty.
So that's what I did.
I didn't act again for 3 years. Two years in the service and 1 year to recover. But I finally appeared in a UConn production of "A Man For All Seasons" as the Common Man opposite Thomas More. It went well. I met the first love of my life then. I survived.
But my initial launch... got scrubbed.
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Post by Fingerplucked on Apr 22, 2012 6:42:41 GMT -5
Not looking, particularly when you decide to get naked, has proven to be a wining strategy for me. I've always been impressed with not only your impeccable timing, but also your ability to turn any situation into a cause for another glass of wine.
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Post by Deleted on Apr 22, 2012 8:08:11 GMT -5
Hard as it may be for some folks to believe, I am not at all a "flag waving Toby Keith" type patriot, but I believe the above quote sums up one of my core beliefs rather nicely, thanks.
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Post by sekhmet on Apr 22, 2012 8:35:50 GMT -5
Life changing - two hops and a leap.
The day I looked at my raging (again), violent, father screaming in my face and brandishing fists and told him to "get out of my fucking room". I went out the window and never looked back.
The day, five years later, when a really good therapist said "you're really intelligent, you're healthy, you're beautiful and you get to decide from this moment on what you want your life to be like. You have all the cards and it's all up to you. Have fun!"
The day, three years later when I took the $2000 dollars that I had saved for moving to Japan and bought 27 acres on the Bruce Peninsula, an old house that needed to be moved 15 miles up a turny twisty country road and never looked back.
The day, ten years later, that I decided that I could get into the Ontario College of Art and did.
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Post by omaha on Apr 22, 2012 11:43:27 GMT -5
- First day of school in third grade. We were milling around outside the school, waiting to get let in. There was a new kid who was obviously feeling a bit self-conscious. I went over and said hello. We ended up being good friends through grade school, up until his dad was transferred and he moved away. His brother was a guitar player. I bought my first guitar from him...and old beater he had started with that he let go for $5 and he even threw in books 1 through 4 of Alfred's Basic Guitar Method.
- Sophomore year in college I was taking a class in credit management. We had a guest speaker...Bob Gross who was Credit Manager at Brandeis, a now-defunct (bought out by Younker's years ago) department store chain. He mentioned that they needed some people to work in the credit office, nights and weekends. I applied and got the job. Met Ed Brunson, another student working part time. Ed's dad had gone to the South Dakota School of Mines, and he was always talking about it. Eventually, I decided to transfer and switch my major to Mechanical Engineering.
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Post by david on Apr 22, 2012 12:30:48 GMT -5
I think Omaha is likely right with his butterfly effect theory. But I remember a couple events that I recognize as having a lasting effect.
In my 5th grade class of about 30 students, my teacher, who I admired, let all but 5 or 6 of us go to recess. He told us that he recognized us as leaders, not just in the class but in the rest of life. It gave me a sense of confidence that I had never had. Looking back on it, he probably gave that little speech to everyoone in the class.
The next event was when I was searching for a profession in my last year of college. My roommate said he thought he would go to law school because of all the things you could do with a law degree. I had not even considered it before. I went to law school and became an attorney.
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Post by Cornflake on Apr 22, 2012 13:04:30 GMT -5
godotwaits, that was very interesting and I think I know you better now.
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Post by dradtke on Apr 22, 2012 18:36:23 GMT -5
Life changing? Or personality changing? Or, perhaps, personality defining? Things that changed who I am or changed where I ended up?
I agree with Jeff, the moments that I think made me who I am were small, insignificant moments that were only life-altering in retrospect. Two of them, coincidentally enough, were conversations with the pastor of our church.
In confirmation class, 8th grade, the pastor mentioned that we didn't need to believe in the virgin birth as physical fact, you could accept it as allegory. Well, that guided the rest of my religious beliefs from then on.
Early in high school, a couple friends and I learned how to open locked doors. We spent a lot of time going where we weren't supposed to, and helping ourselves to things that weren't ours. We got caught. My mother scheduled me to have a talk with our pastor. That was the last thing I needed. Another lecture.
He didn't say a word about what I'd done. He told me about driving over to our house to tell my pregnant (with me) mother that my father had been killed in an accident. I'd never heard that story. I decided I would never again do anything that might upset my mother.
And then there's the one time I actually made a decision. My high school punishment was in-school suspension for a year. Classes only, no extra-curricular activities. No games, no band concerts. Classes, then home.
When the year was over, I decided that I was going to annoy the hell out of the administration. I was going to be everywhere, all the time, in their fucking faces, and they couldn't do anything about it because I wasn't going to do anything wrong. Band concerts, pep band at all the home games, art exhibits, school plays, yearbook photographer. Take that, suckers!
Well, school plays turned into a career.
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Post by millring on Apr 22, 2012 18:45:19 GMT -5
I've been on a straight trajectory for most of my life. I fear that the change of direction is ahead of me.
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Post by t-bob on Apr 22, 2012 18:57:39 GMT -5
godotwaits, that was very interesting and I think I know you better now. Kevin, you tell a good story, my friend. I remember you well from before and after Vietnam. Since I refused induction, returning vets were a bit of a mystery to me. The birth of my son is most defining moment of my life. I started to grow up. Age 43 - sheesh!
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