I would like to start by saying I have pretty worn out shoes. So I would suggest some clean socks for this brief journey today.
“My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person – he believed in me.” - Jim Valvano
I've been grinding my teeth and doing research for the last two hours. This is what I accomplished. My teeth feel like they're going to fall out of my head. My jaw is sore from the left to right action and researching shit on the internet is two things. Very tedious and very blah. I feel a little bit of pressure to be topical today being it was father's day yesterday. Being that this is about my life and it did affect me on some level. I want it to be all pretty and neat, creating the illusion of intelligence and structure. Quick note, I constantly surprise myself everytime I spell a word correctly. Here is a brief history lesson on father's day and why I feel like it puts a gun to everybody's head to force feed us these 3 words. Happy father's day. I do love you dad by the way.
The campaign to celebrate the nation’s fathers did not meet with the same enthusiasm--perhaps because, as one florist explained, “fathers haven’t the same sentimental appeal that mothers have.”However, many men continued to disdain the day. As one historian writes, they “scoffed at the holiday’s sentimental attempts to domesticate manliness with flowers and gift-giving, or they derided the proliferation of such holidays as a commercial gimmick to sell more products--often paid for by the father himself.”
Struggling retailers and advertisers redoubled their efforts to make Father’s Day a “second Christmas” for men, promoting goods such as neckties, hats, socks, pipes and tobacco, golf clubs and other sporting goods, and greeting cards. When World War II began, advertisers began to argue that celebrating Father’s Day was a way to honor American troops and support the war effort. By the end of the war, Father’s Day may not have been a federal holiday, but it was a national institution.In 1972, in the middle of a hard-fought presidential re-election campaign, Richard Nixon signed a proclamation making Father’s Day a federal holiday at last. Today, economists estimate that Americans spend more than $1 billion each year on Father’s Day gifts.
A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when his hands are empty. This is how my hands and heart rose this morning. I was suppose to go to church today. I actually woke up at 8:30 this morning, on the dot. For a few seconds as my eyes shifted and my brain rebooted itself, a sense of relief came over for a minute. Of course until I realized that it was 8 freakin 30 and not like noon. The brief state of serenity was quickly replaced with a plan of deceit and lies. At any moment like the Gestapo, I was going to get seized and escorted to church. So acting 101 was in full affect. First I immediately get under the covers and act like I was comatose. Second I have my tried grainy voice ready with my lines if necessary. Finally be ready to act like I couldn't function by continuous rubbing my eyes and playing deaf and dumb. The anxiety was killing me. I said I would go to make the interrogations stop. I got tired of feeling like a battered prisoner. Even though they had every right to guilt me to go cause it was for the kids I couldn't face them. The outside world the people out of my imaginary bubble. As the moment of truth arrives I close my eyes, lock up my jaw and prepare myself. Boom...the door creaks and slowly gets shut again. There leaving me be. I felt like the world was lifted off my shoulders. As I allowed my tense body to unwind, the crushing blow comes swiftly. Time froze and all my emotions ran towards my eyes in the form of tears. My youngest whispers, like a haunting angel, "daddy we love you". My eyes are swelling now as I relive it. Not even the angelic voice or unconditional love of my children could break the chains I have bound to myself. What a dad, what an asshole I am. Here on the day my pride and joy want to tell the people that influence thier world that I am there dad. I am there world. So much has been taken away from them and I take this as well. Sometimes I feel like I'm no better than my old lady. Mine you this is just the beginig of my day. I spend the rest of the morning numbing my soul with television, captin crunch and zombies. Mid-afternoon comes and panic mode reinstates itself. How will I show my face to the eyes of disappointment again? How can I justify my actions and descions? I can't and I won't. Sometimes when you screw up so profoundly you just got to take what's coming. So what do I do? I lock myself in the bathroom around the time when I know they'll be walking through the doors. I delay facing the firing squad as long as possible. I felt like a dead man walking as I turn the knob and walk towards the death room. Its was brutal. They let me have it and I deserved every single blow they threw. It ended with a group hug, forced hug, from my kids and a plain folded note in my hands. Again the haunting words but in writing. Daddy we love you. The rest of the day goes pretty smoothly. We all pass out for a few hours, I go and buy pizza and chocolate chip cookies for dinner. And do you wanna know what made and broke my day? I am turly insane I swear to god. When I went to the supermarket to get dinner I took the rugrats with me. As we walked up isle 5 actually, a employee greeted me with a general how are you. I said in turn like always scrpited, "fine". He then paused for 2 seconds, as if the light bulb went off in his head. He conjured this,"By the way Happy Father's Day". I say "thank you", as I continued my walk through the store. Riddle me this guys. How can a complete stranger tell another stranger happy father's day? Yet I'm not worth the 2 seconds of thought or effort to the one person I'm dying to hear it from the most? My old lady. I hate days like this when my emotions are held at gun point.
"I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all."
- Laura Ingalls Wilder
I'm out of steam and have a pounding headache. Thank you for your time cause its the most precious gift we carry.So please spray the shoes and return them where you found them.I have many steps that await me.Goodnight
“My father gave me the greatest gift anyone could give another person – he believed in me.” - Jim Valvano
I've been grinding my teeth and doing research for the last two hours. This is what I accomplished. My teeth feel like they're going to fall out of my head. My jaw is sore from the left to right action and researching shit on the internet is two things. Very tedious and very blah. I feel a little bit of pressure to be topical today being it was father's day yesterday. Being that this is about my life and it did affect me on some level. I want it to be all pretty and neat, creating the illusion of intelligence and structure. Quick note, I constantly surprise myself everytime I spell a word correctly. Here is a brief history lesson on father's day and why I feel like it puts a gun to everybody's head to force feed us these 3 words. Happy father's day. I do love you dad by the way.
The campaign to celebrate the nation’s fathers did not meet with the same enthusiasm--perhaps because, as one florist explained, “fathers haven’t the same sentimental appeal that mothers have.”However, many men continued to disdain the day. As one historian writes, they “scoffed at the holiday’s sentimental attempts to domesticate manliness with flowers and gift-giving, or they derided the proliferation of such holidays as a commercial gimmick to sell more products--often paid for by the father himself.”
Struggling retailers and advertisers redoubled their efforts to make Father’s Day a “second Christmas” for men, promoting goods such as neckties, hats, socks, pipes and tobacco, golf clubs and other sporting goods, and greeting cards. When World War II began, advertisers began to argue that celebrating Father’s Day was a way to honor American troops and support the war effort. By the end of the war, Father’s Day may not have been a federal holiday, but it was a national institution.In 1972, in the middle of a hard-fought presidential re-election campaign, Richard Nixon signed a proclamation making Father’s Day a federal holiday at last. Today, economists estimate that Americans spend more than $1 billion each year on Father’s Day gifts.
A truly rich man is one whose children run into his arms when his hands are empty. This is how my hands and heart rose this morning. I was suppose to go to church today. I actually woke up at 8:30 this morning, on the dot. For a few seconds as my eyes shifted and my brain rebooted itself, a sense of relief came over for a minute. Of course until I realized that it was 8 freakin 30 and not like noon. The brief state of serenity was quickly replaced with a plan of deceit and lies. At any moment like the Gestapo, I was going to get seized and escorted to church. So acting 101 was in full affect. First I immediately get under the covers and act like I was comatose. Second I have my tried grainy voice ready with my lines if necessary. Finally be ready to act like I couldn't function by continuous rubbing my eyes and playing deaf and dumb. The anxiety was killing me. I said I would go to make the interrogations stop. I got tired of feeling like a battered prisoner. Even though they had every right to guilt me to go cause it was for the kids I couldn't face them. The outside world the people out of my imaginary bubble. As the moment of truth arrives I close my eyes, lock up my jaw and prepare myself. Boom...the door creaks and slowly gets shut again. There leaving me be. I felt like the world was lifted off my shoulders. As I allowed my tense body to unwind, the crushing blow comes swiftly. Time froze and all my emotions ran towards my eyes in the form of tears. My youngest whispers, like a haunting angel, "daddy we love you". My eyes are swelling now as I relive it. Not even the angelic voice or unconditional love of my children could break the chains I have bound to myself. What a dad, what an asshole I am. Here on the day my pride and joy want to tell the people that influence thier world that I am there dad. I am there world. So much has been taken away from them and I take this as well. Sometimes I feel like I'm no better than my old lady. Mine you this is just the beginig of my day. I spend the rest of the morning numbing my soul with television, captin crunch and zombies. Mid-afternoon comes and panic mode reinstates itself. How will I show my face to the eyes of disappointment again? How can I justify my actions and descions? I can't and I won't. Sometimes when you screw up so profoundly you just got to take what's coming. So what do I do? I lock myself in the bathroom around the time when I know they'll be walking through the doors. I delay facing the firing squad as long as possible. I felt like a dead man walking as I turn the knob and walk towards the death room. Its was brutal. They let me have it and I deserved every single blow they threw. It ended with a group hug, forced hug, from my kids and a plain folded note in my hands. Again the haunting words but in writing. Daddy we love you. The rest of the day goes pretty smoothly. We all pass out for a few hours, I go and buy pizza and chocolate chip cookies for dinner. And do you wanna know what made and broke my day? I am turly insane I swear to god. When I went to the supermarket to get dinner I took the rugrats with me. As we walked up isle 5 actually, a employee greeted me with a general how are you. I said in turn like always scrpited, "fine". He then paused for 2 seconds, as if the light bulb went off in his head. He conjured this,"By the way Happy Father's Day". I say "thank you", as I continued my walk through the store. Riddle me this guys. How can a complete stranger tell another stranger happy father's day? Yet I'm not worth the 2 seconds of thought or effort to the one person I'm dying to hear it from the most? My old lady. I hate days like this when my emotions are held at gun point.
"I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all."
- Laura Ingalls Wilder
I'm out of steam and have a pounding headache. Thank you for your time cause its the most precious gift we carry.So please spray the shoes and return them where you found them.I have many steps that await me.Goodnight
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