The Early Years: Part 2
Dad was old-school in his ideas on parenting, whereas it was the woman’s role to take care of and raise the kids. Like many Southern men, the extent of my dad’s role as a parent was to put food on the table. However, he did try to become involved on one of our Cub Scout activities. One of our Cub Scout meetings was scheduled to take place at our house. This particular meeting we had set up an obstacle course in the backyard; we had to perform certain tasks in the time allotted in order to earn a merit badge. Apparently I didn’t do something right, or I talked back, or maybe my dad was just short-tempered, or maybe because a lot of reasons unknown to a child of 6 or 7…anyway, my memory of the specific trigger is hazy, but I remember my dad suddenly exploding in anger and he began to kick me across the yard, in front of everyone. He kicked me across the yard in front of my friends, their parents, the neighbors – everybody.
Humiliation at such a young age has a way of imprinting you. I was so embarrassed and hurt, more from his sudden and physical anger than any actual physical pain or injury. My face was hot and red from shame. Every kick of his foot nailed home the message I took to mean “you are a shitty son!” I understood then what the term “walking on eggshells” meant because going forward that is how we were around my father, uncertain of when or what would set him off again. This wasn’t the last time my father became physically violent with me, though he never attacked my brother for some reason. Like the boys in the neighborhood, I apparently was an easy target for my dad too. To this day I do not react well when other people fight or argue; it makes me extremely upset and anxious.
After the divorce, mom got a position at #1 Auto Parts store. Our neighbors down the street from us, the Crenshaws, worked there and I am guessing they had a hand in getting my mom the receptionist position. My mom was a telephone operator at one time, so I am sure those skilled transferred over to being a receptionist. Going to work with mom made me feel important and needed though in retrospect taking me to work must have been just a means to keep me busy and out of her hair while she worked. As a reward mom would always stop at this hot dog restaurant on the way home. The hot dogs at this place were the best I ever had; to this day I compare all hot dogs to this place. I always ended up getting a foot-long cheese hot dog.
Even though I was the youngest of two children (my brother being 14 months older), I always filled the role of the older brother. While my mom was out making money to take care of us, I was at home taking care of my older brother. He was, and is to this day, not very good at anything having to do with domesticity. I don’t even think he could have boiled water on his own. I remember cooking for him often, his favorite item I made being a fried bologna, egg and cheese sandwich. Mostly for dinner we had Dominoes pizza. Cooking was never my mom’s forte and it became less so when she became a working single parent.
My mom had tasked us with other chores as well, chores we never had to do when dad was in our life as the breadwinner. My brother and I were responsible to cleaning the house, mostly just picking up after ourselves and keeping the kitchen clean. It was our routine to start our chores exactly 15 minutes before my mom was go get home, as it took her 15 minutes to commute from Forest Park back to our home in Rex. We would frantically do in 15 minutes what should have taken us much longer to do properly. I am not sure if Mom ever noticed our rush job or not, though I know we had at times misjudged time and didn’t do our chores at all, and I do remember she got mad at those times.
Because of my mom’s need to work, our family became very well known to the Dominoe’s Pizza delivery person. Pizza delivery was a new concept in those days and it could not have come about at a better time. Dominoes promised to deliver your pizza in 30 minutes or less or it would be free! (They no longer have this rule.) My mom was never fond of cooking, so Dominoes filled in the gaps. I remember eating A LOT of Dominoes pizza as a child and that is probably why I gravitate towards pizza and hamburgers and hotdogs as an adult. Those foods represent a source of comfort for me, not to mention they are all easy and fast to make. I still prefer fast, easy foods to gourmet.
Most of our time spent that summer after the divorce was with the other kids in the neighborhood – Elise Conn, and the Van Attas (Sean, Jamie, and their sister Mikayla). We used to have a tree fort on the back field of the Van Atta’s house. This was our gathering place, the center of our childhood. This was a time before iPods, computers, or even cable. I have so many memories of climbing the tree and slowly building the fort using materials stolen from construction sites around our neighborhood. The first time I got in a fight with someone (Sean Van Atta) was 50 feet in the air in that tree fort, though the fight was a disaster. I still have a scar on my right hand where I tore my hand open on an exposed nail, from trying to hit Sean. I can’t even remember what the fight was about, probably something childish. Ironically enough, though my first fight was with Sean, he was also my first gay crush. Of course I didn’t call it gay or even know what gay is, but I certainly had a very strong attraction to him. On one of our many campouts I remember him being asleep next to me, and I kept running my fingers through his dark brown hair. Looking down on him felt timeless and calming and I guess that was my first taste of love because to this day I can feel that memory as if it just happened a moment ago.
Humiliation at such a young age has a way of imprinting you. I was so embarrassed and hurt, more from his sudden and physical anger than any actual physical pain or injury. My face was hot and red from shame. Every kick of his foot nailed home the message I took to mean “you are a shitty son!” I understood then what the term “walking on eggshells” meant because going forward that is how we were around my father, uncertain of when or what would set him off again. This wasn’t the last time my father became physically violent with me, though he never attacked my brother for some reason. Like the boys in the neighborhood, I apparently was an easy target for my dad too. To this day I do not react well when other people fight or argue; it makes me extremely upset and anxious.
After the divorce, mom got a position at #1 Auto Parts store. Our neighbors down the street from us, the Crenshaws, worked there and I am guessing they had a hand in getting my mom the receptionist position. My mom was a telephone operator at one time, so I am sure those skilled transferred over to being a receptionist. Going to work with mom made me feel important and needed though in retrospect taking me to work must have been just a means to keep me busy and out of her hair while she worked. As a reward mom would always stop at this hot dog restaurant on the way home. The hot dogs at this place were the best I ever had; to this day I compare all hot dogs to this place. I always ended up getting a foot-long cheese hot dog.
Even though I was the youngest of two children (my brother being 14 months older), I always filled the role of the older brother. While my mom was out making money to take care of us, I was at home taking care of my older brother. He was, and is to this day, not very good at anything having to do with domesticity. I don’t even think he could have boiled water on his own. I remember cooking for him often, his favorite item I made being a fried bologna, egg and cheese sandwich. Mostly for dinner we had Dominoes pizza. Cooking was never my mom’s forte and it became less so when she became a working single parent.
My mom had tasked us with other chores as well, chores we never had to do when dad was in our life as the breadwinner. My brother and I were responsible to cleaning the house, mostly just picking up after ourselves and keeping the kitchen clean. It was our routine to start our chores exactly 15 minutes before my mom was go get home, as it took her 15 minutes to commute from Forest Park back to our home in Rex. We would frantically do in 15 minutes what should have taken us much longer to do properly. I am not sure if Mom ever noticed our rush job or not, though I know we had at times misjudged time and didn’t do our chores at all, and I do remember she got mad at those times.
Because of my mom’s need to work, our family became very well known to the Dominoe’s Pizza delivery person. Pizza delivery was a new concept in those days and it could not have come about at a better time. Dominoes promised to deliver your pizza in 30 minutes or less or it would be free! (They no longer have this rule.) My mom was never fond of cooking, so Dominoes filled in the gaps. I remember eating A LOT of Dominoes pizza as a child and that is probably why I gravitate towards pizza and hamburgers and hotdogs as an adult. Those foods represent a source of comfort for me, not to mention they are all easy and fast to make. I still prefer fast, easy foods to gourmet.
Most of our time spent that summer after the divorce was with the other kids in the neighborhood – Elise Conn, and the Van Attas (Sean, Jamie, and their sister Mikayla). We used to have a tree fort on the back field of the Van Atta’s house. This was our gathering place, the center of our childhood. This was a time before iPods, computers, or even cable. I have so many memories of climbing the tree and slowly building the fort using materials stolen from construction sites around our neighborhood. The first time I got in a fight with someone (Sean Van Atta) was 50 feet in the air in that tree fort, though the fight was a disaster. I still have a scar on my right hand where I tore my hand open on an exposed nail, from trying to hit Sean. I can’t even remember what the fight was about, probably something childish. Ironically enough, though my first fight was with Sean, he was also my first gay crush. Of course I didn’t call it gay or even know what gay is, but I certainly had a very strong attraction to him. On one of our many campouts I remember him being asleep next to me, and I kept running my fingers through his dark brown hair. Looking down on him felt timeless and calming and I guess that was my first taste of love because to this day I can feel that memory as if it just happened a moment ago.
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