my careless contagion

What is the nature of failure? What defines failure?   No, this isn't another post about how much I hate myself or my life. Really, I'm just asking questions and positing the truth. So, before you say, "Here we go again," relax. This isn't another I-hate-my-life post. It's just an honest assessment. A child has many people to look up to. But, a child also has many people telling him (let's assume it's a boy for our purposes) he's wrong. Tell a child this often enough and he becomes angry or sullen. And then he assumes he is always wrong. How do I know this? I was that child. In fact, I am still that child, and those same people who told me I was wrong back then still tell me I am wrong today. In fact, I feel I've never been right about anything. I've been swimming in a sea of wrongness my entire life! On a fairly recent and random Saturday, I realized in many people's eyes (or, potentially, if they have all the facts), I am a fa...

Shh, I'm just going to sneak this post in here.   The above photo is a painting my mom did of my son. And a dog. Looks pretty good, huh? Well, this painting is inspired by a photo. See below.  Yes, this neat father-son photo was turned into a painting. And I was erased. And replaced by a dog. That's my mom for you.  I'm pretty sure my son doesn't even like dogs. He's afraid of them. The above picture was taken about two years ago. It was taken by the river in a town I used to live in. My mom says it was taken in a different part of town in a different park. She's wrong. But that's my mom.  I've begun to accept the fact that dear old Joshua isn't so dear to his parents, and this is just one example of how not dear he is to them. Maybe I'm just getting sentimental in my old age, but I like the photo better than the painting. My son means so much to me, I don't even have words. It would have been a nice thing to see in oil or acr...

"Just say you're sorry," I said, over and over again.  My son was crying, and it was obvious he felt sorry, but he just couldn't say it. He had pushed his friend off a chair while they were playing, and his friend went splaying out across the hard floor. I think he did eventually say he was sorry, but it was like pulling teeth. Why is saying sorry so hard?  I've talked about the ex-Marine teacher who humiliated me in front of my entire class (when we were trying out for parts for a play/musical thing) when I was in like the 7th grade. He made fun of the way I talked. I admit, I probably have a speech impediment of some sort (I blame my constantly-inflamed tonsils). He should have apologized in front of the entire class for humiliating me. Public mistakes deserve a public apology. And he could have apologized one-on-one for humiliating me, but he didn't. Instead, he insisted he was right that I was wrong for the small part I had and suggested I not do i...

Stability. Never had it. Not in my friendships. Not in my relationships. Not in my dwelling places. Not in my head. Nor in the pit of my stomach.  I know. The only thing in life that stays the same is change. I've become really good at adapting to new situations. I guess that's the upside. I've written about this before. So why am I writing about it again? Because I've moved again. This makes five times in less than five years I've moved. And I count about 15 total moves in my lifetime. I just want some stability. I want to settle down. But I know myself. I'll quickly get bored with that, too. I've mentioned my ADHD-type behaviors before in my post about closed captions (I think), but, honestly, this time I didn't want to move. And I prayed about it, asking for a specific thing to happen and it did, and now here I am. The counterpoint of my ADHD behavior seems to be my OCD stuff, which is an overcompensation for lack of control, I think. I used...

I wish my parents had divorced. That may seem like a strange statement, I admit.  This month, my parents marked their 50th wedding anniversary. That's quite a milestone, especially for a relationship so fraught with difficulties.  One thing parents do for their kids is teaching them how something is done. How do you live your life? Chances are you learned most of it from your parents. Parents think their words carry more weight with their children, but the most effective way they teach their kids is by their example.   I don't want to spend a lot of time dwelling on the psychology of why my parents got together in the first place, but I do need to sketch some things out. My parents met in college on a blind date. My dad was a jerk, but he called my mom later and was a different person so she gave him another chance. She thought, erroneously, that because my father was not good enough for her he would treat her well. That seems like a poor dynamic for any re...