I feel like I have lived for hundreds of years. Life has not gone quickly for me at all. I think the last few years have appeared to have gone more quickly and that is likely because things have stayed fairly consistent. Before that life was all over the place. I moved a lot, was studying, and working different jobs, all kinds of dramas. There are phases of my life in which I don’t seem to have retained many memories. I can hardly recall primary school in any detail. A few images flash up if I try hard. Being given the nick name Kunky, showing a Playboy I had to some boys, being teased by one of my teachers, wearing a lot of tracksuit pants, being sent to the principles office quite a bit, singing God Save the Queen (not the national anthom) at assembly, whistling for the first time in the library by accident, Mum walking me up to the gates on my first day at my new school, cloths-lining some poor kid during a football match by mistake, going behind the shelter sheds to see a girl flash, fighting a butch girl and taking longer than most to be given a pen instead of a pencil because of my left handedness. It may seem a lot but there is nothing in much detail. I was the joker in class, whether that was out of boredom or a need for attention im not sure, a bit of both probably. I was always trying to make the class laugh, not by any physical comedy, just with words usually. Admittedly farting was always a winner right through high school as well, everybody did it because the plastic seats made a great amplifier. It was also common in these seats to lean back on them so your knees were under the desktop keeping you up. It was always a scream when the back legs lost traction and the person would go flying backwards landing on the floor. During most classes in high school it was a great laugh to grab someone’s pencil case and throw it out the window. This kid Gonzo (because he looked like the Muppet of the same name) took offence one day when I did this. I ended up going to get it for him seeing he didn’t appreciate the humour. You had to watch yourself in high school as a boy. The threat of being beaten up is always there. My first day of high school a group of Year 9 kids started threatening me with the royal flush (head in the toilet) when the next door neighbour of close family friends showed up and said I was cool. I never got bothered much after that. I remember the teachers at high school were complete freaks. Mrs Eldritch had this secret smile across her face and she stunk of excessive perfume that would make you gag. My Taylor had a wig which looked like a stack hat and all the hair started from middle. He propositioned my friend Reed outside of school and talked to him about how he masturbates He was a complete perv but funnily enough one of the best teachers there. He was an intelligent man with some interesting and sad quirks. The maths teacher used to be the phys-ed teacher before he got caught peeping in the boys change rooms. Can you believe that? He wasn’t even fired. Ryan almost had a fling with the councillor; she got a crush on him because he was going through so much with his spina bifida. Its like nurses falling in love with patients, they get the job and their feelings all mixed up.
I had some major crushes during my entire schooling career. I was interested in girls from a very young age. I must have been in Grade 1 or 2 when I woke up and went into the living room where Mum and Dad were watching a movie. I lay there with them for a while and there was a scene with a stripper. I can still remember being fascinated by it. Ok not the sort of stuff you want to read im sure, but it is weird how early on my sexuality asserted itself. It also gives you some indication as to just how tortuous it was to not get my first real kiss until I was seventeen. Girls would like me fine, just not in that way. But I was obsessed with girls and it seemed so cruel and unfair that I would be so unattractive to them. Mum even asked me if I was gay at one stage because I didn’t have a girlfriend. I said to her "Mum, I like girls, they just don’t like me". What made matters worse was that my mates did great with the girls. The only one worse off than me was my old mate Nobby, he was short, thin, awkward and had a big nose and no personality. I liked him though, we were fairly good friends. I liked kids that didn’t talk much and were not too overactive. I still don’t like people who get over excited. Nobby and I used to hang out a bit. He came to stay up at my Dads place in the mountains with me and I used to go with his family to the beach. It turned out that his father was gay and living a lie. That whole family were a little strange. The father ended up leaving his wife and shacking up with some guy just a few streets away.Nobby got in to drugs with Reed and we drifted apart. He got really bad, screwed his life up. We were all smoking dope a bit during the latter half of high school. My mates were smoking for a year or so before I felt I was able to cope with it. I never got pressured into doing something I didn’t want to do. Your Mother is exactly the same. So I took my time, made sure it was something I wanted to try. In the end I had a smoke and quickly jumped on my bike and rode home to write poetry. I wanted to see if I wrote differently, like Jim Morrison. I still have the poem. The other guys ended up going to the next stage and tried speed. After that it is easy to just keep trying stuff out because you have removed the limitations that keep you in check. Silly guys started trying heroin and that was that. By this stage I was at my new school so I didn’t see how it all came about. Ryan had gone up to Queensland and was living in an Ashram leading a very pure lifestyle. I didn’t keep in touch with the other guys as we had all gone different directions and moved from the area. I have never tried anything stronger than dope myself. Dope is a plant while other drugs are created in a plant. I just don’t want to mess with anything that dodgy. Alcohol is worse than dope, as is smoking cigarettes. It’s when you have anything in excess that problems occur. Even dope you have to be damn careful with. On two occasions it was laced with something very psychedelic. Interesting experiences but not ones I care to repeat. You have to consider this when drugs are offered to you. Are you an addictive personality? This makes all the difference because if you are then the drug will quite easily break down those walls of common sense and logic that we all have. When this happens God help you, because you simply won’t have the ability to make rational decisions. It’s like someone has opened up your skill and cut out that rational part of the brain. Your Mother has an addictive personality and her years of smoking show this. I however am not. I was never in danger of taking it to the next step. I can be extremely dogged when it comes to maintaining my values. As a teenager I decided I would never use harsh swear words and to this day I still have never used the F word or anything worse than that. Shit is my limit. I am mightily proud of this accomplishment…………………… dash nab it.
Friday, November 30, 2007
Girls and drugs - an average day at school
Monday, November 12, 2007
Role models gone, flew to London on a bender
I taught myself how to shave. I have always found that to be a good representation of where my male role models fell short of the mark. I have learnt more about what not to do from the men in my life than what to do. Come to think of it I cannot think of any men I knew that I wanted to emulate. They all seemed somehow screwed up one way or the other. I find that I am stronger than the lot of them. I slowly developed my strength and sense of self from the strong females in my life and the books I read. Also the expectations I had of myself and what I did not want to become. The funny thing is that you often learn more from the ones that are failing than in the ones that inspire and succeed. One of my biggest influences has been Sadie's father because he has shown me what not to be. I find him such a failure as a man, a husband to my mother and as a human in general that I cant help but be inspired to keep working on myself. My belief in myself has been my doing, nobody else’s. I am proud of myself that I kept my head about me and trusted myself.
Remember I was talking about the crossroads I was facing when your Mum wanted to buy the unit. Well I just watched High Fidelity again and discovered that his story is similar to where I was at back then. His reticence to make that switch, that final commitment took him time and it was with the threat of losing her that he finally understood his feelings. This is exactly where I was at as well. Actually friends have even said im a little like all three characters in that record store.
Your Mum was already in England a few months when I arrived. I was taken aback when I finally saw her. She had lost a lot of weight and looked quite different. I couldn’t stop touching her. Like I was checking to see if she was really her. One of the nicest things about a partner is that you can touch them when you feel like it. It was not fun being apart I can tell you. She had been at her granddad’s but recently moved up to London. I got a letter from her and inside it mentioned there were some guys who were possibly moving in there with her and a few others. It’s the first and only time I was mad with jealousy. I feel like the biggest tool when I think about it now. So anyway I had a job within a couple of days looking after some people with disabilities. I simply loved London so much. I was only working 4 days a week and Fridays off. I would spend my day just walking around for hours and hours. It was so much fun. Your Mum did a bit of work as substitute teacher which she hated and then worked at a men’s clothing shop. I just loved the social aspect of the place. You actually spoke to strangers in pubs. In the afternoon there would be people spilled out in the street because the pubs were full. I loved the warm beer and the cool weather. I went to speaker’s corner in Hyde Park and met a really interesting guy named Anthony. He was from America and was studying psychology in London. He would stand on the milk crate and challenge peoples beliefs and opinions on black stereotypes. He had a whistle around his neck and held a football. He referred to himself as a nigger which really pissed people off. He was a real live wire and just loved debating people I think. I had a chat with him and we went and had McDonalds. I then invited him to come to this blues pub called Bob's Goodtime Blues near where we lived. He arrived with his beautiful girlfriend but all night he was so distracted. His knee would be bouncing up and down while his lady sat back all serene. I would dearly like to contact him again. I don’t think I have his details anymore.
Your Mum was also enjoying a bit of a puff at this time. I think it’s something about being away from home that frees you a bit from what you normally wouldn’t do. She has only smoked a couple of time before this but here in our little flat with all these people, she just enjoyed the times she did have it. She would laugh hysterically. You should ask her some time about the chocolate pudding incident. I would have a smoke myself however it was at this time that I gave up cigarettes. What a place to do that. But I did manage to quit, despite nobody making it too easy for me. Sometimes I would just have to sit up in the room to keep away from all the smokers. Speaking of the room. Two single beds, your Mum and I in one and two other people in the other and then another on the floor at one stage. This is in a room the same size as the end room at home. So I was loving my time there. I only went on two trips outside of London. One to see her Grandad and other family and another day trip to Oxford which was wonderful. We had plans to head over to Europe and Scotland but it was then that I got calls from Grandma and my Dad to say that Mum was not doing so well. She wasn’t telling me this and didn’t want me to know. Well thank God I can rely on your Mum to organise things because the next morning I was on a plane home. That’s a story for another time.
Posted by The Dad Diaries at 6:11 PM 0 comments
Labels: drugs, grandparents, London, role models
Friday, November 9, 2007
House hunting with a baby
We took what, about 11 years to get married finall? I like to take my time. Can you imagine what I was like when Grandad Baker started telling your Mum to buy a unit? I got scared. Oh God no, this means that I am in this relationship for good. There is no 'out' once I take this plunge. This was before we got married obviously. We were living above a shop at the time. It was an awful place in a great spot. I doubt we even have photos of the place. Your Mum hated it. It was all mission brown and a breeze would blow up the stairs from outside and we had no heaters other than a small electric one. There was even a time during the last month or so of living there that we had no bed. Your Mum slept on a fold out bed and I slept on the floor. The floorboards creaked horribly and the shop owner would keep knocking on the door telling us to keep it down. But I just loved being so close to everything. I loved the adventure of it. One of the windows had a terrific view of the city as well. So you can imagine that the idea of moving out and buying something became very appealing for her. But for a guy this is a huge thing. There is something deep down in your subconscious that tells you to keep your options open. Guys do not settle down as naturally as girls do. It is definitely a genetic leftover from when we were nomads. So when she started talking buying I panicked. It was a big moment, it was a mind shift. For me it meant making the final commitment and having it sink in. There was finality to it that scared me for a bit. So I did actually say no for a while. Your Mum was great, she did exactly what she should have done and said that she would be doing it anyway without my help. Sometime we all need to be pushed into change, into action and it is your partners responsibility to aid in that, as well as being true to their own vision and needs. So eventually I made that switch in my brain and once I did, that was it. It was a great feeling, I felt free rather than trapped. It was like an evolutionary ascension that us humans must do to keep progressing and adapting. We cant be held back by genetic predisposition. That is no excuse. If only we could all move on from war mongering.
So we bought the unit and for your Mum it was a huge time of growth. We both knew very little about how to look after a house but it is during this time that we started to learn how to fix up a house. I did my first paving job out back and your Mum actually did the garden. We made the place look fantastic for what it was and it ended up selling for over double what we paid just a few years on. It was also during this time that your Mum and I quit smoking finally. I was only smoking beedies for a little while as I had quit cigarettes in London. It was a big thing to do for your Mum who had been a heavy smoker since she was a teenager. It was also the time that her relationship with her Dad changed dramatically. She finally started to think for herself and not take everything he said as gospel. To this day your Grandfather has stubbornly rejected these changes she has made and will not see us. He is not a man who believes in change so he has been unable to become the father of an adult as opposed to a child. It is very very sad for him. He blames me as well, thinks I am now controlling your Mum. I understand why he thinks that because in his own little world he rules his wife. He cannot fathom things can be different to that. Stubbornness and pride have prevented him and those around him from being happy. This means that your Mum has had to disconnect her feelings for him so she can get on with her life and be happy herself.
A cenotaph is a tomb or a monument erected in honour of a person or group of persons whose remains are elsewhere.
Elegy was originally used for a type of poetic metre (Elegiac metre), but is also used for a poem of mourning.
Muggles, a slang term for cannabis, mostly used in the 1920s and 1930s and associated with the American jazz scene. From the lyrics to 'Dope Fiend Blues' by Allen Ginsberg' -
Im a dopefiend sitting in my bedroom high
I did'nt even light up no muggles, don’t know why
I'm just naturally a dopefiend under a friendly sky
This issue with Grandpa Baker also reminds me of one of the big events that stopped him talking to us. I had just got the job at the call centre. This was a big change time for me. I was feeling a lot more confident about myself. After ten years of working in disabilities I was feeling down about my future. I was really good at the job and was given more and more responsibility. I decided I wanted a newer car because of how I felt and because I wanted something nice for a change. It was more symbolic than I realised at the time but this was a big step for me, to stop feeling down about myself and to feel like I should look after myself a bit more. Your Mum recognised this because she is smart and knows me more than me sometimes. So we got this great Suzuki 4WD and I loved it so much. Your Grandpa however kicked up a big stink because he wanted us to buy a brand new car and he wanted to be the one to make that decision as to what to buy (what he wanted was a piece of crap btw that subsequently proved to be a dog of a car that lost its value quickly, while my car retained its value). That was the start of it all. He had a hissy fit and decided to stop talking to your Mum. He also wanted your Mum to have the good car. Mum told him that she didn’t care about getting another car at that time and it was more important to me. As I mentioned above, this is not something he was able to understand. And because it was his way or the highway your Mum finally told him that she didn’t need his assistance or his advice and that was that. I wonder if you have rebelled yet and which of us it was aimed at. God I hope I can keep my head when or if this happens to me.
PS: As an addition to the above (again), my issue with deserving nice things stems back to my father, who to this day does not think he is good enough to deserve anything nice. He buys beautiful guitars and wont play them, instead he plays the cheap ones. He does his drawings on crap paper because his talent is not worthy of good materials. So I had to unlearn this learned habit and im happy to say that I was successful.
Posted by The Dad Diaries at 6:08 PM 0 comments
Labels: drugs, grandparents, job, relationships