Open Letter to my Son
2004
My First Born Darrell.
Congratulations my dearest son.
You have discovered all the things, which make life beautiful. Its not the cars, the houses, or the boats, which bring pure happiness, but the miracle of birth and creation.
This newness of life starts out small, even though you have chosen to start your own family with super-size, and blossoms into all that you are, all that you have, and all that you will be, and this life will bring you much needed joy and fullness.
This fullness is made complete with a good dose of Christianity, and with the help and grace of God, and never forgetting that without him, all is for nothing. So, take your family to church, as often as you can, and acknowledge his greatness as it will give you purpose.
Ask for his guidance everyday so you can lead your children in the best ways and instill in them their source for strength.
Do the best that you can, for in a few short years it will be their turn to guide their children, your grandchildren, and you will be able to say without hesitation,
“I have done all that I know,
I have done all that is good and right,
I have done well”.
with love,
Dad
Open Letter to my Son
2004
My First Born Darrell.
Congratulations my dearest son.
You have discovered all the things, which make life beautiful. Its not the cars, the houses, or the boats, which bring pure happiness, but the miracle of birth and creation.
This newness of life starts out small, even though you have chosen to start your own family with super-size, and blossoms into all that you are, all that you have, and all that you will be, and this life will bring you much needed joy and fullness.
This fullness is made complete with a good dose of Christianity, and with the help and grace of God, and never forgetting that without him, all is for nothing. So, take your family to church, as often as you can, and acknowledge his greatness as it will give you purpose.
Ask for his guidance everyday so you can lead your children in the best ways and instill in them their source for strength.
Do the best that you can, for in a few short years it will be their turn to guide their children, your grandchildren, and you will be able to say without hesitation,
“I have done all that I know,
I have done all that is good and right,
I have done well”.
with love,
Dad
Open Letter to my Son
April, 2004
My First Born.
Congratulations my dearest son.
You have discovered all the things,
which make life beautiful. Its not the cars, the houses, or the boats, which bring
pure happiness, but the miracle of birth and creation.
This newness of life starts out small,
even though you have chosen to start your own family with super-size, and
blossoms into all that you are, all that you have, and all that you will be,
and this life will bring you much needed joy and fullness.
This fullness is made complete with a
good dose of Christianity, and with the help and grace of God, and never
forgetting that without him, all is for nothing. So, take your family to
church, as often as you can, and acknowledge his greatness as it will give you
purpose.
Ask for his guidance everyday so you can
lead your children in the best ways and instill in them their source for
strength.
Do the best that you can, for in a few
short years it will be their turn to guide their children, your grandchildren,
and you will be able to say without hesitation,
“I have done all that I know,
I have done all that is good and right,
I have done well”.
with love,
Dad
first
I hurt my child again today, but that's all right you see, she was talking very loudly, and irritating me.
So I whacked her pretty smartly, across the arm or face, it doesn't really matter, to me it's no disgrace.
I've done this so many times, it just comes naturally, just like my mother raised me, it's the fool in me, you see.
I've told her not to spill her milk, about a hundred times, never mind the floor is filthy, I don't have to make it shine.
So I slapped her very smoothly, and made her cry once more, I'm immune to her whining, she makes it such a bore.
You've gotten ketchup on your shirt again, don't look at me and pout. I don't know how to get it off, I can always throw it out.
Washing clothes is not important, I have better things to do, if you weren't such a messy eater, if you would only chew.
There'll be no more food for you today, I'm really bothered see? Can't you understand simple English? I said get away from me!
I care about my child, I do, and I'll prove it in a minute, why just last week a playmate pushed her, and skinned her little knees, and boy I was so upset, I put my two cents in it!
I was yelling and screaming, it's the teacher's fault, you see?
She didn't watch the other kids, all much bigger than she is, she can't take care of herself because she's not yet three.
Don't let the children hurt her, that's reserved especially for me.
I hurt my child more than anyone, but it never dawns on me,
I'm hitting my own children, I'm the mother, can't you see?
She cries when she is hungry, or if she's cold or wet, I swear she's getting on my nerves, I'll have to beat her yet.
Sometimes she reaches out her little arms, begging to be held, but since I mustn't spoil her, a slap is what she'll get.
I'll put her in her little crib, she can't get out of there, and I'll just turn out the lights and leave her crying there,
when she's too tired of crying, we won't hear her anymore, if she wakes up again, I'll have to close the door.
Spare not the rod and spoil the child, is what my mother said, I think God made her an expert, I must listen to what she says.
It must be right, just look at me, it doesn't hurt a bit, this is the way that I was raised, and nothings wrong with it.
I am immune to those weak cries, and surely God don't care, I was also beaten as a child, and no one raised a prayer.
One day when social service comes knocking at my door, I'll make up some excuses, it's the neighbors, nothing more.
They spoil my child, they pick her up, they give her what she wants, she laughs too loud and plays too long, she's happy all at once.
They just can't stand my discipline, I can see it in their face, every time that I hit her, while we're over at their place.
Somehow it gives me pleasure, to be in such control, its perversion at it's finest, I'm enjoying this I know,
they better not say anything, we'll just get up and go.
I wont let them visit her, that'll teach them, yes it will, then they'll start to see things my way, it's my way or the hills.
Who are these people anyway, who raise their kids so kind, and do they think that they are perfect, that their children always mind?
They've never spanked their children, or maybe once or twice, all of their kids are well behaved, their son is very nice
He hasn't ever hit me, I wish he would sometimes, then I could get attention, and this would be just fine.
I may have Munchausen by proxy, sometimes my child is ill,
if another child has fallen sick, mine will too as well, but I don't know how to fix it, its a very bitter pill.
I'll have to call my mother, she'll answer right away, doesn't matter if I call her, thirty times a day.
I wouldn't have to call so much, every time I try, if only she had picked me up, and held me when I cried.
My child hit a teacher, and I spanked him very hard, I yelled you can't hit people, this is what I said.
My child then hit a playmate, just like I showed him to, I then had to hit him, and remind him what to do.
I don't know where they're learning this, it's from the other kids, I said you can't hit people, you're not people, don't you know?
You're just my little angel, and now it's time to go.
This poem as I have read it, has made me very mad, they're sick the ones that read it, and are smitten very sad.
There is only one thing more, that's left for me to do, I must stop that incessant whining, they don't have a clue.
Although the sun's still shining, I can see it through the door, I must put my child to bed, because my hands are sore. It's about me.
Your Brain is 46.67% Female, 53.33% Male |
Your brain is a healthy mix of male and female You are both sensitive and savvy Rational and reasonable, you tend to keep level headed But you also tend to wear your heart on your sleeve |
Hurricane Katrina
In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, I have spent long
hours at work, working my days off, due to the influx of guests which arrived
ahead of the storm. The hotel’s services have really been taxed. Food, ice,
drinks, the elevators, emergency generator power, and the plumbing have all
been tested, as well as our patience. So far, with only a few glitches, we have
done exceptionally well.
The number of people with pets, mostly dogs, but one snake
that we know of, has caused management to re-think our pet policy, i.e., no
more accepted. This is in large part due to the constant peeing of all the dogs
in close proximity, and the inconsiderate guests who just let them go where
ever they want, the G.M. with a low tolerance for stress and a short fuse, and
one manager who seems hell bent on overdosing him with exaggerated and constant
complaints.
I have seen a good share of good and decent folks in bad
situations, and we are doing our best to accommodate them. The displaced and
homeless, with nowhere to go, the guests who wait in the lobby for a chance of
a room, the lady who hasn’t stopped crying for days, the girl who hasn’t heard
from her father, or a brother who’s conversation ended with his cell phone battery
was running low, the hillbilly lady, who looks like she’s straight from the backwoods, but has
money to burn. Oh, and the rude guests as well.
We locally breathed a sigh of relief as Katrina turned
eastward and narrowly avoided New Orleans, we were anticipating winds of 100
MPH as far as 200 miles inland, that would be us. The refugees are continuing
to trickle in, some from the west side of New Orleans that was not devastated
by floodwaters but are now feeling threatened in their own homes by the lack of
civility and the necessity to arm and barricade themselves in their homes. They’ve
decided it’s not worth it. We have experienced a run on our gasoline, there are
shortages and long lines everywhere, with prices now at an all time high of
$2.99 for regular, and rising. There is no such thing as ice. Eggs, and
beverages of all kinds are spotty with lots of empty shelves.
We are beginning to feel the effects of 1 ½ million
displaced people, the first wave being the people who heeded the call for
evacuating, and those who had the transportation and money to run, our roads
were jammed with travelers. We now are getting some of the less desirables,
those who would take advantage of anyone with a greater venerability than their
own. There are stories of weapons displayed at the gas pumps, peoples shopping
carts snatched from them in the parking lots. The super Walmart closed for
several hours due to one incident. The delivery trucks have armed guards while
they unload their goods and I have seen the local police keeping order at the
BP station and others on the main highway. There are thugs breaking in homes in
Natchez, and police friends say gang members are up looking for new territory.
I have tried unsuccessfully to acquire a diesel tank and
fuel for the hotel’s generator so we would not be caught without emergency power
due to a lack of fuel during outages, we had about a four hour period when all
of south-west Mississippi and east-central Louisiana was without power due to
the loss of the last one of the 5 power grids went down. I suspect we will lose
power again on several occasions as they attempt to bring up the downed power
lines. I have learned from an acquaintance that the government has commandeered
all of the tanks, tankers, and fuel in the area. The Natchez mayor must have
spoke prematurely in the paper when he said no one would be allowed more than
one tank of gas at a fill-up. The following day, he retracted his statement and
said people would be allowed to buy up to $100 worth at a time. I suppose this
is to avoid some of the chaos that people are capable of if we think there is a
shortage of something.
I have had little time to watch more than a few glimpses of
the news from the coast, mostly just catching a little news and commentary on
NPR on my way to & from work; people are dying in the streets, looting/crime
is rampant, the government is too slow too respond, they have rehearsed this
scenario for years, the people who are abandoned in New Orleans are
disproportionately black, and poor, and unemployed, etcetera.
I don’t know the answer to any of this, and I don’t care to
think one-sided, but sometimes I wonder if this seemingly disastrous evacuation
plan couldn’t be the plan, gone awry, of course. New Orleans has been crime
ridden for years and getting worse. What could be better than a natural
disaster flooding the overcrowded east side crammed with poor, uneducated,
non-productive, socially problematic citizens? Damn those survivors hanging out
on those overpasses hollering for food and water!
Only God knows why the storm turned to avoid a complete and
swift flooding of tsunamic proportions. Only God knows why there aren’t just
100,000 bodies floating in the ocean, rest their souls. What more can make the
American people wake up and see that we are unprotected and don’t have enough
foot soldiers? What will it take to bring back the draft?
If
this sounds like sci-fi, I have the script all wrote down in my head, waiting
for the movie. Meantime, my family is taking extra precautions. I can’t let my
wife go to the mall alone anymore, I can’t let her go out at night by herself
to pick up the boys from a church function. The home that we have recently
acquired and has taken us years to get only makes us look affluent (we’re not),
and therefore a target for the unlawful. We hear reports of a policeman shot
for a jug of water, a brother shoots his sister over a bag of ice, and for the
first time the dog is out. We are not alone though, our neighbors are wary as well.
There will be years of consequences.
