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