A great and Wonderful Day!

A great and Wonderful Day!

Recently I had the privilege to attend a ceremony celebrating the rise to Deacon-hood of a very special person. Though I do not participate in her religion, The Runtyun does. Milly leads the youth ministries at the church the runtyun attends and the two have connected in a very powerful and positive way.

Though I do not participate in their religion, I can appreciate the dedication Milly had in accomplishing her goal. She will be a shining light to all those who know her.

This post is not about Milly’s accomplishment, it is about ME!, and my relationship with the higher power. Please notice that I did not say God, or any of the other names relating to a superior all knowing being, or creator.

When The Runtyun started going to church, I felt it was my duty to be there, after all she was young and needed her Daddy nearby, or maybe I needed it. I felt it was be good for her on many different levels; she would be with kids her own age, she could spend time learning something that is a basis for our society, and maybe even get a little moral development tossed in. 

Since that day so many years ago, she has developed into a fine young lady. One day, I asked her if she wanted to continue her relationship with the church and choir. I tried to explain that it would be a commitment for the rest of her school years and that I would enforce it every time she wanted to stay home and sleep in. We have had a couple of times when the desire to sleep has beaten her need to attend, finally I convinced her of the importance of going.

I still have to get her to church and when her choir sings I attend the service...well sometimes anyhow. When I do go to the service, I stand and sit on cue, I’ll read and listen to the passages that are recited, and contemplate questions running around my brain. Sometimes I’ll concentrate about a story or blog I am writing, and as such I am not really involved in the service.

One of the questions I ponder is what am I teaching my kid by my lack of Christianity and not being a participant, yet making her go and participating in the very thing I rebel against?

I know what I want to be teacher her, but is that the lesson she is getting?

olc 

Facebook, and Friending And Spanking

I was unfriended by some one on Facebook the other day. While no one wants this to happen, most of the time it is of no consequence. We "meet" people online and in Facebook all the time and mostly these things are of no consequence. However, sometimes we find some one and we follow and develop a friendship, or a common bond. The Samuality provided a source of information on many different subjects and he also was a source of really cool cosplay photos. Being a middle aged guy, who likes fantasying about being a hero with scantily clad hotties around him, I appreciated this.

Lately anti-bullying has been very prominent in the media. Churches, schools and various civic groups have been strongly advocating ways to mitigate bullying practices. As a parent I am concerned with this as my child is going to public school and a big portion of the problem takes place there. Our disassociation was not related to our feelings concerning in-school bullying, but from a profound disagreement in parenting practices.

In a nutshell, I think the Samuality believes that touching a child in a corporal manner, to enforce a matter of discipline, is tantamount to beating and abusing one's child. We are talking about spanking here. I am of the opinion that spanking is a proven way to enhance positive disciplinary techniques.

The Samuality has some very strong feelings on this subject, as do I. Having said that, I acknowledge that I was on his site and disagreeing with him on a very emotional subject. It is true that he has the ability and "right" to unfriend me for any reason. I have seen him do this on a few occasions and for the most part I either agreed with the banishment or did not have a strong enough opinion to make a stand. (no it as not because I was being wishy-washy on a subject. There are times when I do not have enough information on a subject to feel comfortable in making a stand. Discipline and punishment however, is a subject I can talk about.)

I did a little research on the subject and have taken notes from three articles, The Great Spanking Debate, Disciplinary Spanking: When and How to Use It  and AMERICAN ACADEMY OF PEDIATRICS

Guidance for Effective Discipline. It turns out that the general consensus on the subject ranges from, "It is a bad thing to spank your child, we need a kinder gentler world and we need to bring up our children in a manner that reflects that attitude." to, "We need to toughen up our children so they will be ready for the cruel world out there."

Of course I fall someplace in the middle.

In my research I saw every one agreeing that it is the parents job to bring their child up in a responsible manner. Some say it is irresponsible to hit one's child because it fosters aggressive behavior and violence. The reasoning goes something like, my parents hit me, so I can too, and I can hit other people too. The other side of the argument says something like I need to get my kid's attention and this is the only way to do it. 

I am not going into the subject of over zealous parents who abuse their children. They should have the same brutality meted out to them.

In the three articles I read the consensus was corporal punishment should be administered  only when every other means of discipline were exhausted. Just as importantly, the expression of it should be done in an unexcited manner. The parent should never do it as a form of revenge. In my case as a parent, I told my child that if she did not stop doing something then she would be spanked. This of course was after repeated attempts to stop her aberrant behavior. She was given two chances to stop the behavior and when the third one came she would be spanked with little notice. Something like, “I have told you to stop and you have not, now I will spank you and you will stop it." I was very lucky with my Runtyun and had to do it only once or twice.

This kind of augmentation of verbal discipline is OK, in my humble opinion. But when a parent uses spanking as the primary form of teaching a child, then we see the escalation of the child turning to the dark side, i.e. anger against their parents, and bullying others.

What I am saying is spanking, if done with care and parental judgment and not in anger or with malice, is a positive way to enforce a parents will on their child. Now if there are those out there that think a parent does not help to form a child into a responsible adult and that sometimes the kid does not want to do what he is told, then we DO have a problem.

I need to make myself clear here, there is a huge difference between disciplining a child and beating one. Discipline is a standard developed by the parent, while abuse is a parent's inability to control their own temper.

Now back to my unfriending by the Samulality. Honestly Sam, I see your action as a form of bullying. You want me to think in only your way and if I don't, I will be forced out of your little club. (A form of bullying)

I will miss your postings and even your friendship, but I do not accept your hypocrisy.

At least one good thing happened because of this situation, I did a little studying and bolstered my feelings concerning soaking.

olc

This Morning

This morning the Runtyun and I had our usual "It is time to get up" battle. It is Sunday and though I do not participate in an organized religion, she does.

The Runtyun is a member of the choir and attends Sunday school at the cathedral. She is also a member of the church's EYC, a group that teaches religious issues, but also encourages the kids give back to the community. When she was much younger and I felt the need to have her join the choir, it also seemed like the right thing to do to have her go to Sunday school. She is now the longest standing member of that choir. I rationalized this thinking by understanding she would socialize and perhaps learn some valid moral lessons.

When she entered the sixth grade, I felt she had grown enough to make a few of her own decisions and gave her the option of leaving the choir and not going to Sunday school any more. For me either way worked; if she decided to stay, I would be able to spend time at my favorite coffee shop and do a little writing, if she stopped I could stay at home and use that time for writing in an undisturbed environment, or just lazing around on Sunday morning doing chores. For the runtyun, there was a more profound lesson involved. Not one of religious conviction, though if she gets her spiritual connection at the church, I am OK with it, but one of commitment. The lesson she should learn is that when we decide to commit to something we need to stay with it, even if we are tired and want to sleep in.

When I started the long process of waking her up this morning. She said she did not want to go to Sunday school. I have to say it was tempting to go with it. After all I could work on my story undisturbed and we could then do something in the afternoon. I had the little guys on my shoulders, one saying, "It's OK, you really want to stay home, she will be sleeping for a long time and you can work on that story." The other looked across it me and said, "Nonsense. The whole reason she goes to Sunday school is to show her the need to follow through. C'mon get her going and let's get this party started."

After much moaning and groaning the mound in the bed finally rolled out and we embarked on today's journey.

olc

fucking birthday

fucking birthday

So I celebrate my 53^rd year of being alive this week. To commemorate this incredible event I went to my first food locker to get food that may help us to make it through another week without going hungry. I realized that I need to put my motorcycle in storage, something I never do, because I cannot afford the simple repairs to keep it running.

I am a hard working person, though not very smart. My IQ I am told, is higher than most, yet I think it takes more than intelligence to make it in this world. I think that a Luck Quotient should be devised. Maybe more importantly though, a test that can determine the combination of luck and intelligence and how they correlate with “success.”

I think that I would fail that test.

I have intelligence and I have some kind of luck, yet they do not seem to work together very well. It almost seems like they work against eachother to create chaos in my life.

My family seems to want to make this birthday more important than it really is to me. My sister and her husband have come all the way from California for many reasons, but today we are making a big deal about October the 6^th. We have a meal that would make any one happy, yet both my parents are ailing, my sister is feeling ill and really wants to be in bed. Her husband is tired from all the work he has been doing both for his own job and at my parent's. 

We will create a moment of delusional happiness, yet the problems of life will go on after today. So I will enjoy the moment and smile with my family.

Happy Happy! 

Everyone, please enjoy the moment, and though shit gets in the way, find something to make a smile

AND PASTE IT ON!

olc

Lament

             I have had delusions of grandeur for the last few years. Truth is I really don’t want to work for someone else, I want to write for a living. I think I have interesting ideas and I have deluded myself into thinking that others may be interested in them.

Seems I am wrong in that assumption.

When I post on any of my blogs; A Daddy Grows Up: A Chronicle of Our Journey, Rants and Brain Echoes, My Rantings (a journal of thoughts), or even just update my status on Facebook, I get a smattering of views and almost no comments. Much less any follows.

I spend a good amount of time writing these posts and most of the them are pertinent to something going on outside of this electronic box. I always want to have feed back from my readers and most of the time ask for it in the post. Yet I get very little. I want feed back on the content and style, yet all I get is encouragement with no editorial rebuttal.

I’ll keep on trudging along writing here and working on my fictional writing too, but it sure would be nice to get some followers and comments, so please read and let me know what you think. I even want to know if you, the reader, will never look at a posting of mine again. Just let me know and maybe an indication on better writing, or more interesting topics, anything that could help me in rise to journalistic sufficiency. 

Thanks, olc 

She got caught

I have been having some issues with the computer lately which culminated in a trip to the computer hospital, Charlotte Street Computers. I HAD NO COMPUTER! This is a very significant loss for me. I have been using a computer as a crutch for various addictions for a while and as a result have formed a bit of an addiction to it. A kinder word is passion or maybe dependance. 

The upstart from my forced abstinence from computing is I had time to find a away to redirect my energies from the ether to something else. It turns out I have everything of consequence in that evil electronic box. At least as for as work and my writing delusions goes. 

I Looked into various options and decided the best thing would be for me to work off of The Runtyun’s system and see if my parents might let me use one of their ChromeBooks. For a New York Minute. My parents are saints.

However all those things are topics for another conversation at another time.

I decided to take advantage of the opportunity and spend a few minutes on The Runtyun’s computer and clean it up. I went through all the typical steps, checking updates, cleaning the caches and defraging the hard drive. Then I got into her browsing history. I figured I could clean the caches, histories, even scan for maul ware and make the whole thing operate a little faster.

That is when I found she had been misleading me or outright lying to me. She had a Facebook page and a Gmail account I was not aware of.

I was hurt, angered and almost felt soiled by this betrayal. I repressed the urge to confront her about this transgression on the spot, yet she could see something was bothering her Daddy. When she first asked me, “What’s bothering you, Daddy?” I denied any angst, and said I was merely tired from work. A little later though, she asked again and I confessed that I was very upset with her but could not talk about it yet. I told her that it was serious but did not want to go into it then because I would start yelling and preaching. We both knew nothing good would come from that. So my overly mature 12 year old let it go. 

She had started a Facebook account without my consent, even worse she had done it after I had told her I would get one for her! Yeah we all know I procrastinate a lot, yet when a Father says not to do something we expect compliance.

I was hurt and mad and felt betrayed to boot. Mostly though I knew I could not talk about it without loosing my temper. So I let it stew a minute.

When I went to the computer hospital, I mentioned my dilemma and they suggested a couple of different programs to look into including one called Kiddlogger at Kidlogger.org. I looked it up and am impressed. There is a free version with limited capability that seems to be everything I need to track The Runtyun’s movement on the 'net.

After a couple of days I had sorted my thoughts and found a little balance in my thinking and figured out a strategy in dealing with her transgression. I tightened the security on the windows machine and created a new user account on the Mac. I have not loaded the Kidlogger software on anything yet, mostly because I have issues with time....so much to do and so little time to do it in, yet I learned a little about how to track usage on a computer. I also know that my kid is basically a good kid and will do what she is told. She got impatient with her old man and went ahead and did what I told I would do instead of waiting for me to, “Get to it”.

My thinking is excessively slow sometimes, to the chagrin of more than me, finally though, I came up with a plan that may seem obvious to any one, and truth is, I saw this path from the beginning but wanted to let it settle before implementing it.

We went for a walk the other night and I confronted her with her transgressions. There were so histrionics, just calm talk and explanations. I could tell she was nervous, I however, was Fatherly. I told her what she had done and asked if there was anything else I should know. “No” was her answer. Gotta take that one on faith for now

I told about the key tracker program I will be putting on all the toys and that I would know everything she did from then on. She called me a stalker. I laughed and told her no I was not a stalker, it was my job to make sure she was not doing stupid. I also tried to explain to my naive waif that there are those out there could do silly things to her online. I think she got a little of what I was trying to say.

I truly love my little Runtyun, but this transgression of trust shocked me. It told me a little about the cocoon of unreality that I have spun around our relationship. It told me that my little girl is going to test me and learn things in ways that I may not approve of, yet I’ll need to adapt to them and grow with her. 

olc

A Lesson Learned

The little one, aka The Runtyun, is going away to overnight camp for a week. (When I was going to over night camp at her age, we went for 2 weeks and I truly relished the time, learning some social skills only won from extended time away from home, yet I knew I was safe and would be going back soon. Now all the kids get is a short one week session. Well, I guess something is better than nothing.) We have been getting stuff ready and packing all week long in preparation for a week away from home. It has, for the most part, been a stress free process, but in the back of my mind I worried wether or not she has enough underthings to last.

Ever since she has realized that there is a difference between men and women, she has been even more cagy about her “private” clothes. As a consequence, I am never sure if she has enough socks, panties and stuff. We have made forays to various stores and I have enlisted clerks to help in the process of determining the right size and proper fit of certain “unmentionables” with little success. We have tried this in a few different places getting different responses from the sales people ranging from blushing giggles, to determined action. In almost every attempt, we have come to crashing defeat.

Yet, I had to get the kid something, but I did not want to go through all the drama involved in an underwear hunt.

I texted a friend who is young enough to remember what it was like, yet old enough to relate to me (Ashley, you are a good friend). We went back and forth, finally culminating in her offering to take my Runtyun out and finding what she needed. The implied sentiment seemed to be, “You are a man and have no idea what to do here.” :-}

I heard that message loud and clear, but I needed to get this done. So I went to the local department store and found a very nice older woman and plead my case. This genius woman lead me away from the balloon inflated bras poking off the hangers and over to the prepackaged, shrink wrapped aisle, a daddies haven, all the visuals gone. She pulled a 2 pack set that fit into the parameters, my friend had given me. Nirvana! She then showed me some camisoles and panties. I struck gold with this woman!

So, just what was the lesson I learned?

At first I thought a daddy knows best, was the lesson. Then I realized that asking friends for advise, and getting off the Daddy knows all stool was the real lesson.

Then the important one finally brightened my thinking brain. I am the father of a 12-going-on-32 year-old young woman. In this world of growing connectivity, we forget that a 12 year-old is still a 12 year old, they still have the innocence of the young even though they are exposed to so much more information then we had at their age.

They may rile against what their parents want them to do but the truth is, they still are learning and in need of a firm hand to guide them to maturity. Goodness knows, a 12 year-old can be head strong, even a know-it-all, but I think much of it is bluster: “I don’t need your help, Daddy, I know what to do, I know what I want, you merely hold me back, I can do it ALL, Daddy!”

I have known this for a while yet this time merely cemented the lesson: A Father, sometimes, knows the best. My next lesson in daddy-hood, is when I should assert and when to let her learn on her own.

Good luck to me!

olc

My View of Father's Day

Father’s day

On Father’s Day we see so many posts about the love and guidance we get from our fathers. We hear testimonials from children describing how their fathers have positively, or negatively, in some cases, influenced their lives. We have T.V. Programs dedicated to the love we have for our male parent. What I don’t see very often is something by the father evoking his love of the gift of being a father.

The day she was born, I was in the room and saw the doctor cut her mothers tummy open. The room was calm and ordered. All the attendants were professional and understated. Her Mom was sedated yet conscience and we talked a little about the procedure and our future.

There was a little excitement when the baby was pulled out of her mothers’ tummy, yet it seemed so routine to every one in the room. To me, it was anything but routine.

I had helped to create a new life. What had I done? All of my adult life I had avoided this very thing, yet there she was, warm and swaddled, in my arms looking at me. I thought her eyes said something like, “Here I am, you better take good care of me.”

I remember going to work at Doc’s and closing the place, then heading to the hospital and merely sitting with that precious little thing wondering how I was going to deal with this HUGE responsibility I had created. The nurses on the floor seemed to think I was doing well, when I would go to their room, they always said, “Hello Mr. Turner,” and smiled.

The truth is, for the first few years of The Runtyun’s life I failed my oath as a father. Though I came home after work everyday and doted over my precious charge, I was drowning in selfishness and self-destruction. Yet through it all, I tempered my excesses, knowing that there was a precious life dependent on me and my ability to get my shit together.

After many trials and much pain, one day I just realized that if I did not stand and grow up, my precious charge was going to be taken. I am still a selfish ass and still deal with demons on a daily basis. However, I do it after I have taken care of my small family.

As a father, I can see the world from a fresh place. She does not have my history to shade her every thought. Her brain is fresh and unpoisoned by my life's influences. Seeing a squirrel jumping from branch to branch, chasing another, or sitting on a branch nibbling an acorn, is new and exciting to her! I get to experience the wonders of the world with her all over again!

My little Runtyun continually brings a smile to my scowling face. She will say something, out of the blue that just brings reality back to my clouded view. Her thinking is not jaded by a personal history yet, so she sees things in ways that I have forgotten. 

When we go places and she looks at me to explain something, it is with the wide eyed trust of innocence and love. In the past, I have betrayed that trust, but she is strong and seems to have an inner strength guiding her and sometimes me, in the right direction. 

When I wake in the morning, the first thing I do is look in on her while she is still sleeping. Oh, she is so innocent and sweet. My heart cries out to her. I have done the things I have done, and it is my fortune to look ahead, yet learn from those things and build a future for my precious little Runtyun.

This is Father's Day and I treasure the love, trust and responsibility of being a Father. My bundle of swaddled baby is growing up, yet she still comes to me and asks questions that will help define her for the rest of her life.

I have grown and matured with my little one and I see her love of me in her eyes. I am a lucky man to have her in my life. I just hope I am worthy of her trust and love. 

Mostly though, I hope I will be there for her, when she needs me, like my Father is.

olc

Father's Day 2013

OK, so there i no one here to cook my Fathers day breakfast, so I'm just gonna make Bacon, Chocolate Pancakes for ME!
And tonight, i'm gonna bake avocado Huevos.
Pictures pending!

olc

Ten years ago this weekend

It had been a rough patch, those last few months. Maybe though, things were beginning to look up. I had a new job, The Runtyun’s mother seemed to have a good position. The Runtyun herself, was my pride and smile. Even the space shuttle, Columbia was completing another successful mission. Little did I know, like the shuttle, my life was going to crash and burn.

Like most people, I did not really know what the shuttle was doing up there in space, nor did I really understand the calamity my life was crashing into. The shuttle was coming down that day and I was watching T.V. idly passing time before work while waiting for my babies' mother to come home and take the dayshift while I worked away at the new job.

She was late, very late. The shuttle had gone missing and I was missing from my new job. The Runtyun was sleeping away, I could hear her soft breathing while updates were coming in. I would go over to her trying to find calm from her sweet and innocent slumber despite the inner flame burning my life away.

In a way I was a little luckier than the rest of the world, I had an idea where she was and it was not at work, while every one else could only wonder and worry about the missing shuttle. 

Yes, it was ten years ago, on the same day the shuttle Columbia developed a hole in it’s wing disintegrating at 17,000 miles per hour, though my life took longer  to crumble and burn. Ye,t like the Phoenix, well maybe not as dramatically, I was able to re-incarnate into a better person, a more mature parent.

My destiny became more real to me when the shuttle crashed. I could see the direction my life was taking, yet like the shuttle, I was headed down a course that seemed inevitable. Destiny, it seemed, had taken control for the moment. Like the shuttle, my life became a fiery testament to misdirection. Hot emotions and flames of stone took over for a time. Yet, after a time of tempering and rebirth, I was lucky to find myself.

Now, I am the man and father I am supposed to be.

A little talk

We were riding to church for an Easter egg stuffing event in anticipation of next Sunday. I am not sure how the conversation started, I think we were talking about who would be supervising the kids. No wait, The Runtyun said, “She will not be there until later, I think her friend will be there to start it off. She says that there will probably be  more candy eating than egg stuffing going on.” I heard the laugh telling me this was OK with her!

“She is her wife, right?” I inquired over the roar of the Detroit steel.

“No I don’t think they are married,” was her reply. 

“O? She seems to think so, maybe in their hearts,” not wanting to get into the intricacies of marriage while riding in traffic.

“I guess it does not really matter. They love each other, right Daddy?”

What more could I say to that?

I guess it is true that the controversy is only in the minds of us more mature people. I hope us mature people can learn from our innocent youth.

olc

A Funny Thing Happened

I finally dragged The Runtyun out of bed---around noon. Well, at least I know she slept well. The day was beautiful and we needed to get outside and enjoy the world. We shoveled food into our gapping maws, then settled into the eternal discussion: What Are We Gonna Do Today?

Before the inevitable, “I dunno” could be voiced, I said let’s go for a walk! This always gets her interested (it is forbidden to say, “Let's go for a hike.” Go figure.) So we got the bike rumbling and rolled on down to a path by the river. I guess we were not the first to have this idea. There were many bikes, walkers and runners too. My favorite was the woman on a bike with her dog on a leash. Let’s just say that squirrels are a hazard to ADHD dogs and their people leashed to them.

We walked under the high way over pass, Interstate 40. I thought I heard some birds up in the rafters, so I looked up. As usual, my sense of vertigo caused me to step backwards. That is when I told The Runtyun to be careful she might get a little… a Daddy’s reflexes are a funny thing. I truly am not sure how I knew she was about to spin out of control, but the Daddy Hand caught her just in time.

“What happened?” came the question.

“Just tried to tell about that, kid. Vertigo is a funny thing.”

“I just looked and then...what happened,” came the giggled reply. She shrugged off my steadying hand, but grabbed it with hers. 

We walked on a little further, my leg was getting sore and the limp that is been growing was becoming more prominent. I did not want to end the walk, we spend so little time without other distractions and I liked what we were doing.

“Let’s go to the river arts district. We can walk around there,” she blurted.

Walking back to the bike, I asked her if she still wanted to pursue a career in art. She said that they had taken a career test that indicated lawyer or cleric of some kind. I suggested maybe she could be an artist as a hobby.

“Daddy, let’s just ride,” a dream come true!

We made our way to Rt 151, a short road giving access to Hominy Valley and finally the Blueridge Parkway. This is a great ride with many turns and a switchback or two and a few short straights. In fact, the DOT has decided to post something like 35 speed limit signs in a 3 mile stretch on this road.

We rumbled and screamed and scraped our way up to the Parkway. The ride was nice, I had my daughter with me and she asked for the it. Of course we could not talk while riding, yet I knew she was paying attention to the ride, her reactions were perfect, she held close and read what was going on. 

The bike was running well too. It accelerated and slowed with little input from me. The roar of the engine excited my blood and mind. The three of us made it to the top and readied ourselves for the calmer ride down the Parkway. The gate was closed!

“O well, I guess we need to go back down this one,” I said.

“It’s OK Daddy, I can take it,” my helmet nearly busted, my smile was so big!

The ride down was a mirror image of the one up, though the pegs scrapped more and I could feel my little one squirming more. Finally we made it to a little convenient store and we unwound our legs for a minute. Some guy talked with us. He wanted to tell me about his bike in New Orleans. We talked for a bit, then my friend Don, pulled up, guess he lives in the area. Finally, The Runtyun and I talked for a country minute. There was nothing deep or fatherly uttered from my lips, she asked no profound questions about the reason for life. We were just two people enjoying a moment.

I have always wondered how The Perfect Moments in life were achieved. We found it. It was just me and my daughter sitting and riding on an incredibly beautiful early spring day. No angels singing, no fanfare for the common biker, (or daddy), no bright lights, just a smile and trust between to people.

Olc

Let’s just forget about the kids

Anyone who listens to the news has heard about the scandal surrounding sex abuse and the Catholic Church. How horrific is it that the teachers of morality are corn holing innocent children, kids who are taught by their parents to trust and love their priests? Even more importantly though is the institutional coverup of these perverts. As disturbing as it is, the abuse of trust by both the individuals perpetrating these horrendous deeds and the subterfuge initiated by their superiors, the victims and their families seem to be only an ancillary subject, not the main issue.

Yet, the trust given to these perverted people, leaders in their communities, bastions of moral and spiritual idolatry, is betrayed by these monsters who use Faith as a backdrop for their perversions. What is worse, there seems to be some kind of institutional understanding to protect these perverts who defile the youth they are supposed to lead.

In my research for this post, I forced myself to read a number of published articles about the abuse of children, more specifically the abuse perpetrated by Catholic priests. Almost everything I read had to do with how the “conspiracy” was perpetrated. Using  statistics to illustrate, it seemed like they were trying to take the personal damage done by these perverts and make it merely numbers. Yet the truth is kids were damaged by these acts of depravity. The kids are not numbers, but real living, vulnerable children who trusted their robed and anointed leaders.

Their trust was misplaced and rewarded with vile wickedness. Maybe we could learn to forgive and forget the transgression, yet what about those who were violated, why should they forgive or forget? I think the Bible says something about an eye for an eye, I wonder if that kind of justice can be meted to those who taught that lesson. 

In my research for this post I read about cover-ups, the moving of priests from one place to another to hide their vile acts, even edicts by the “very top” of the chain to correct the problem of defiling innocent children who trusted their priests, yet in nothing did I see any explanation as to HOW THESE VILE ACTS COULD BE PERPETRATED in the first place!

Yes, I am upset about this sad state of affairs in the largest Christian institution in the world. Catholics control religious doctrine throughout the world, they control whole economies and the thinking of so many people, yet they cannot keep their penises in their  robes! Yet they feel they have the moral obligation to tell their minions what is morally right and wrong.

Who are they to be the moral compass of the world! I understand there is only a small percentage of actual vile, perverted Priests who violate their flock, but they are being hidden by the majority. There is a conspiracy to create a false image of those perverts---to make the Church look good!

All the while the innocent “lambs”---the churches flock is getting RAPED by the lies issued by Bishops and others more powerful!

The words of a band called P.O.D. in their song,

Youth of the Nation 

Maybe this kid was reaching out for love

Or maybe for a moment he forgot who he was 

Or maybe this kid just wanted to be hugged

Whatever it was, I know it’s because

We are, we are the youth of the world

Who’s to blame for the lives that tragedies claim

No matter what you say it don’t take away the pain

That I feel inside, I’m tired of all the lies

Don’t nobody know why it’s the blind leading the blind

I guess that’s the way the story goes

Will it ever make sense, somebody’s got to know

There’s got to be more to life than this

There’s got to more to everything I thought exits 

We are, we are the youth of the world

More than the boys and girls violated are effected by these vile acts of depravity, one way or another almost every one in our world is effected by them. Maybe the first step toward healing, is for the Church to admit, publicly and vociferously the depths to which it is involved in the cover up and misinformation it is involved in.

Until then there are thousands of kids suffering because the Catholic Church chooses to hide the truth. Those poor kids hurt in a way no child should.

olc

She brings me back

I had a crappy day. I made the usual mistakes and could not hide them from others. They piled up and brought my usual somber mood even lower usual.

The truth is, I did not want to go home, I just wanted to isolate and lick my self inflicted wounds. The other side of my thinking was that I did not want to bring my beautiful daughter down to my level of depression. We had talked a little through text and I could see she was really happy with the world and it makes my psyche even worse when I inflict my sullen outlook on her.

I steeled myself for her effervescence and made myself look at her without inflicting my foul outlook on her. I must have done something right because within 5 minutes she made me smile...ten and I actually laughed for the first time aaaaalllllllllll day---long.

The stupid shit I did during the day is still running around my brain, but thanks to my little Runtyun I have a smile to beat back the negativeness that wants to beat me up.

Am I wrong to accept her energy to bring me back from my depths of psychic gloom?

olc

Sunday’s ride Published 2012/05/06

We did the Sunday school thing this morning and when I got finished at the bagel shop and went over to the Cathedral to get the Runtyun, all the kids were outside and having a great time. I can think of no better way to celebrate the greatness of our Creator than watching children laughing and smiling.

We got home from church school and did a few things and then hopped on the bike.

The sound of the Milwaukee iron rumbling to life always sends a tingle of excitement through my spine. Letting the clutch out with a little gas, feeling the first movement and finally settling in the saddle as the speed and volume increase all make my outlook on life so much better.

We were on the way to check out the camp the Runtyun will be going to this summer. I wanted to see it, so we were going to have a look. Really it was an excuse to go for a ride, with a thinly veiled ulterior motive, we both knew the real reason for the ride.

The ride to the camp was all side streets and not much traffic, even still the bike was a joy to ride. We finally got out of town and the road opened a little. It had been too long since I had been on the bike with the notion of riding just for the fun of it. A few turns and curves snuck-up on me. Boy, that bike really handles well, it slows and makes me feel like I know what I am doing. And it slides out of those corners soooo---smoothly.

We finally got to the camp and rode around it. The Runtyun was long faced and a little despondent. This usually means that she will fall asleep if I am not careful. We walked around a little and then mounted. That road to the Parkway, sr 215, is a dream come true. It has straights and curves and views that rival any I have ever seen, all in one 5 mile stretch. Toward the end though, we got stuck behind a cage that was burning oil. Pe--yue!

I was not feeling like riding hard today, what with the Runtyun riding pillion, so I backed off and simply enjoyed the movement of the road and the views of the mountains. It is kinda relaxing to set back and let the bike and road tell me where to go. Yes, we scraped the foot pegs a little and yes there was an occasional dropped gear to lift the front a little and O boy the roar of the engine did stir my primal feelings. Yet I took time to look around, there was a hawk soaring above us. We saw many glimpses of the river we were crossing and little birds flitting about all made the ride.

Finally the Parkway found our tires. We turned toward home. The views, the way the road is designed, the scent of flowers as we past...so wonderful. A ride like this always refreshes me. I drop the issues that plague me. The very moment takes control of my being. 

Feeling the Runtyun shifting behind me reminded me she is there. We pass a few words and laugh at a squirrel as it darts across our path. I am reminded of a deer and a special woman.

We got to a turn out and stretched a little. Walking down the trail, I see my little Runtyun begin to come alive again. Her face turning with a flush, her smile beginning to radiate. Her step getting lighter. We finally get to the river, stream really at this point. The mountains have created a playground of water slides and dipping pools here. We play around. My little water nymph splashes and yammers, her face flashing joy and happiness.

HERE ARE SOME PICS

She let her boots get filled with water and swashed around, an SEG all over her face. I asked her if she is gonna dump the water out before we left. Silly me, what was I thinking!

She sloshed up the trail to the bike, water spilling put of those boots. “My feet feel so good!” Riding the road, I got an earful of

“I got water in my shoe,

water in my shoe.

I got water in my shoe…”

Now this was sung in many different genres; classical, operatic, jazz, rock, country and few that have yet to be named. I could feel the smile beaming from behind me. I was smiling so wide I choked on a couple bumble bees.

After we passed Pisgah Inn and started our final stretch nothing special really happened, I was relaxed. I had a fine machine rolling down a beautiful road. My kid was bouncing around the back of the bike singing, “I got water in my shoe…,” radiating happiness. And I was able to put all of my brain numbing issues aside for a long moment.

Now, a day has gone by and I still feel good. The BS that makes up my day is still there, I still have problems with many things, some personal that can't go away, some from work that will. I will deal with them, but they will not drag at me because my Runtyun and I spent such a great day together. I sometimes wonder if all the stuff that drags me down will succeed in drowning me, yet when a day like this comes along, I know I can swim a thousand miles. I am a lucky guy.

olc

Vacation! A little guilt and some fun too!

The Runtyun seems to be getting inline for a very active summer. She is scheduled for camp and hopefully if I can get my stuff together, she will also go to adventure camp where they go to a different place every day. Mostly they go to various swimming holes and frolic in the beauty of nature. I am sooo jealous.

The real exiting news though, is she will be going to a camp sponsored by her church. It is an overnight camp starting on Sunday and finishing on Saturday. What a great experience. Their day will be filled with activities and spiritual education.

Finally and the biggest thing is she will be going to her aunt’s for two weeks this summer. Wow what a great time that should be. Her aunt is active in so many things and the area they live in is so exciting; once again I am so jealous.

While I am really happy that my little Runtyun is going to have an exciting summer, unlike ones in the past where she gets up, goes to camp and then I get her and we go home, just like every other day of school, I am excited for me! I love my little girl, but it will be super to have a vacation too! I have been planning a solo trip with camping and riding. I’ll do some hiking and maybe even finally get to the Motorcycle Museum in Maggy Valley. When I am not riding, I’ll be doing my regular job, but I will not have to mind her. I will not have to constantly look over her shoulder to make sure she is not getting into anything she should not. I will not have to remind her to clean her room.

I will miss her.

Though we have my family to help with the upbringing of the Runtyun, it is my function to be her guide, leader and father and parent. It will be great to let someone else take over the daily duties for a short time.

While she is gone having her various adventures I too will be having fun. I will be doing some things that I have not done in a long time and even trips that I have never done. I know she will be safe. Yet I feel a little guilty in my anticipation of a vacation from my Runtyun.

Any one have anything to say about this? Let me know what you think.