My uncles are all just like my dad but to a lesser degree.  One doesnt know when or how to tone it down, the other well he doesnt like having 'it' so he pretnends to be normal but when he's with his brothers you can see all the costume come off.  With me is the only place I really ever saw dad shed his facade.  Its funny though its not really a facade because it was all him.  He just has more aspects to himself than most.  He is everyone he acts like, he just knows how to be them to the truest sense.

 

My dad and uncle had CB radios.  Every night at lets say 10 pm they would get on the radio and do the "Jim Daisy something something show".  They didnt announce it as a show but the truckers were all used to it and waited every night for them to start up.  My dad and uncle would pretend to be gay.  But you know gay with deep voices and heavy lisps.  The two would talk back and forth on an open channel on the CB (truckers channel - interstate).  Flirting with eachother, flirting with other truckers etc.  The truckers loved it, they would all play along.  Every single night this took place.  One night some new trucker got on and was all pissed telling them to get off the radio.  I guess thinking it was for real.  Anyhow so whats my dad do? lol.  He invites the guy over.  My mother was flipping out.  The guy said he was coming with a shot gun in hand.  Dad even told em what trailor park.  We had to turn off the lights and all of us had to lay on the floor and not make any noise.  My mother was whispering "damn it michael" and I was giggling.  Hey dad you think he would shoot us?  "I dont know sissy should we find out". lol.  Oh my poor mother.  She just didnt get it.  I am convinced that he wouldnt have shot dad but they would have ended up the best of friends.  Then why were we laying on the floor?  Oh cause it drove my mother crazy. lol.  I think he thought it was funnier that my mom thought we all might really be shot than it was that we had some pissed off farmer with a gun rack coming over. :-)

 

Pop looks like Jesus you know all the pictures of Jesus.  Dad is like 6'4 and has brown wavy hair.  I have a picture of him from when i was a kid wearing Levis (which he smelled to make sure they were clean) and a green shirt walking flipping off the camera.  My favorite picture.  All the other ones are of him torturing me.  Dad loved to do the unexpected.  When i was eating something he would always smash it in my hair and I would scream and he would laugh and laught.  Guess what mom would say?  "Damn it Michael". ha ha ha. 

 

I was kind of a free spirit.  I dressed myself every day and I didnt do such a good job at it either.  The second I went outside all the clothes came off.  I lived in a bad neighborhood when i was about 6.  I would go outside stip naked and start walking to a friends house, then all the other kids would come out and take their clothes off too.  My mom would come home and see clothes all over the sidewalk on our street and know that I had a whole group of kids following me around somewhere, all butt naked.  Dad used to tell her not to rag me about it, I was a free spirit. 

 

I had an ulcer when I was like 5.  They took me to a hynotist that hypnotized me.  He told my mom that I was very sensitive and knew things werent well between her and my dad, though they never faught.  She asked for a divorce that day. She didnt tell me until later what had happend but it just sucked.  I mean my dad was all fucked up and I knew that, he didnt like to work and I knew that too, drank to much.  Never hit us.  Never spanked me my whole life.

 

Actually there was a word he would say when he got pissed at me.  Espanacardoba!  If i heard that I knew my ass was grass.  I asked him once, what happens if I dont listen when you say that he said "you dont want to know tear" (short for tara).  Turns out he saw the word on a poster over his bed one day.  He only recently told me it stood for Cardoba Spain but written  Expana, Cardoba.  Boy I would jump when he said it.  He could control me with his voice and a look.  He can control grown men that way.  He has this very subtle gentle power and laughs and jokes but when he gets serious ppl stop in their tracks.  He has alot of shady friends too but that I know of never has had to prove he was a bad ass. 

 

My mom struggled alot when the divorced.  She decided to go to school so we didnt have to be poor.  We moved to our grandma's house in Nevada for awhile.  My dad's mom.  She was a veyr cranky lady.  The only thing I knew abut her was that my dad had to spend every Christmas Eve in jail because of her.  Why?  hahaha Well cause she expected everyone to wear their best clothes to Christmas Eve Dinner.  My dad knew that but he wore his worst clothes, every year.  We all get out of the car dressed nice and heres dad in overalls.  My grandmother wouldnt let him come in but he came in anyway.  So she called the cops and told them he hit her and they would come drag him off.  We would finish dinner then go get him.  He never did hit her actually, she just hated having no control over him.  It got to be pretty funny afterawhile. 

 

See my grandma and grandpa had 6 kids.  They got a divorce cause she kinda lost it.  Well they would eat steaks the day grandpa paid child support then they wouldnt have food the rest of the time.  They used to live in the rich neighborhood in town and my dad was the star baseball player on his team.  Then dad had to get a job so he could feed his brothers and sisters, so they would have clothes etc.  There was alot of power struggle between the two.  He was pissed that "she ran his dad out" and that his life got fucked up.  She had no love for the boys.  The girls could do no wrong but the three boys were only good for taking out the trash and other projects the girls didnt want to do. 

 

So I go live with her and my brother comes too, of course.  I was like 9 he was 5.  We arive and she starts laying out the rules.  Up till then we had been latch key kids.  That means we stayed in the house until mom got home.  I took care o my brother.  Mom would leave dinner in the oven and we ate, then played outside.  My nana lived next door but she was old and dying (still is) lol.  Anyhow so Tony and I sort of had our own rules.  We knew how to survive.  We let mom sleep and spent time with her when she had a day off.  We were all working members of the family.  Then here we are witht his bitch that doesnt treat my brother very well and informs me I have to wear dresses from now on.  I was none to happy.  She was really a bitch.  If her dog was on your bed at bedtime you had to find some other place to sleep.  ha!  If you put your elbow on the table she would stab it with a fork.  I had been devising a plan to kill her actually.  I figured if she jabbed my brother one more time we could both attack with knives and hold her down.  It was a good plan really. You can mess with me but you dont mess with my brother, even to this day.  When mom would call if we cried Grammy hung up the phone.  She said she wouldnt let us talk to our mom anymore if we cried.  She was the janitor at the school in town.  After class I had to go scrub the toilets in the gym while my friends were watching a basketball game.  Kind of humiliating really.  I was very quiet, very shy. 

 

Dad always called us at our Uncles so he could know what was really going on.  He knew people in town and had them keeping tabs on us.  One day i had it and told dad all the shit gram was up to and he was in town within a few days.  We told dad about all the stuff she did including not letting us tell mom what was going on or cry.  It all rang to familiar in his ears i'm afraid.  I was a kid I had no idea what it would trigger but i secretly had hoped.  Dad saw us after school and told us to be patient.  He showed up drunk that night at grams.  We were in our bed and heard him open the door and say Mother whos kids do you think your fucking with?  I got Tony out of bed and we both hurried and got dressed.  I heard Gram try to slam the door on him but he's way to big.  She screamed and i heard a thump then silence.  I came out and dad said, come on kids.  The chair was knocked over.  Dad said she freaked out and threw it over at him.  I believe it she always was a drama queen.  Anyhow by the time we got to my uncles my gram was inside and the police were outside waiting for him.  It really sucked.  He did call my mom and tell her what my Gram was up to and mom came to get us within like 2 weeks.  I'll never forget that my dad would die for me.  He still would. 

 

Off and on he is homeless, off and on he is a sucess, but no matter how society views him he is him.  He has strange ethics, and an odd life but it is his.  He helps people wherever he is, no matter how rich or poor he is.  And he ALWAYS loves his kids.