Diary of a Sex Addict

July 27th, 2010

Things began early that day. The alarm clock never wakes you. It is the dreams, thoughts and swirling blood in your body. Saturated with sex.
Dinner (last night): Shellfish, sauteed garlic and several long stares at the waitresses ass.
“Get your mind out of the gutter. Doing laundry at 3am, watching Spanish TV and noticing the cops passing the windowed wall real slow”
Butch: (perplexed) All bloodthinners.
Coco: What is?
Butch: Everything I ate for dinner.
Coco: And all that aspirin you eat too. What is that all about?
Butch: (changing the channel) It’s good for your heart.
It started early in life. Addiction. When I was sick Mom gave me hot tea and St Joseph’s Children’s Aspirin. Two of them and you had to chew them. They certainly weren’t candy but they weren’t overwhelmingly medicine tasting but I liked the bitterness and the tea had caffeine. So I felt better. Immediately after that was the taboo of vagina, ass and tits. Women didn’t poop. They were too amazing. So these nonhuman objectified “things” walking across parking lots in tight jeans. Tight jeans were like an overdose of St Joseph’s aspirin and the price of a porno magazine escalated to over $5.00 each so I stole them.
6:22 PM: You have planned every second of the next two hours. Your mind is enveloped in the reflections in shiny silver cash registers and dressing room mirrors. You walk in, look up at the cameras, buy a Snickers Bar and leave. As you drive home in peace, the sun melts into the night like lava. Orange clouds imitate smoke and a plane sinks into the horizon.
Butch: Wish I was in that plane, I don’t care where it is going.
Coco: (squinting into the sunset) Looks like it is going south from here.
Butch: (getting off his bike) Yeah, south … south ….south is good.

The Clouds Lately
Summer skies are beautiful. So hard to predict. I love those big puffy mountainous cumulous monsters. I could just sit in a chair on the beach and watch those all day. The clouds lately have reminded me of Florida. Dramatic puffey white and a sun shower. This Summer has been nothing to me. Nowhere. Nothing. Roadside America for a couple of hours. I have been invited to Hall of Fames, pools, free rooms, great company, awesome family and BBQ’s. I am a slave to my job. I need to stretch my legs. I am making up for lost time though, last Summer I was lost in upstate New York. Jungles and rivers. Waking up to sleep naked by the side of the water. Weed whacker. Banner sealer. Sign designer.

The piece of wood that Gary found.


A while ago Gary found this piece of wood with four very old photos of mom pasted to it. It was up high on a shelf in his home. These are some very amazing photographs. Mom is very young (very) and I don’t even think she met or knew Dad yet. Her boyfriend evidently had a camera and loved to take photos of this young sexy thing.

Detailed close up. Your mothers ass sitting on top of a convertible.

Butch: I don’t blame my sex addiction on my mothers genes….but I wish I had more of Dads genes and maybe I would have more money.
Coco: (putting on her panties) It’s never too late Butchie boy. You can be rich if you want. Ha ha ha. Money is the root of ALL happiness. Think about all the women you would have!
Butch: Yeah, right.
Coco: Remember how many hours your father spent in front of that mechanical manual adding machine. Chaa chaa ching. Chaaaa chaaa ching ???
Butch: Yeah. It was all about the money, it was always about the money. The ONE and ONLY vacation we went on to Gettysburg Pennsylvania and I remember him adding things up as we went along on a piece of paper.
Coco: And that darn Bible. Put the book down and pick up your children for Gods sake.
Butch: (lighting a cigarette) Do you think he would have been counting his money and buttons if he knew how short life really is??
Butch: Especially HIS life.

7:12 PM:
The urge is too strong sometimes. Overwhelming. Like the need for a smoke. Gotta have it. Want it. The internet is the crack cocaine of a new generation of sex addicts. Tommy put his Dell 560 with 4 gig of memory on the front seat of his Honda and drove to the bridge at midnight. On the bridge, he slowly lifted the computer from the tangle of seat belts and lifted it over his head. It was a few seconds before he heard the plastic splash. He was relieved and excited all at once. His heart pumping like crazy as he drove away.I’m free. Never again. Yet the next night he is buying a new one on sale at Best Buy.

Britt and Becca June 2010

July 7th, 2010

Thanks Bern for all your almost everyday, messages, movies and photos. I feel pretty close to Ohio because of you. I guess I was a little surprised to hear Becca call Bonnie “Mom” but that only seems natural when you look at the circumstances. The other thing that “shocked” me, I guess, was when Bonnie said she was “leaving” and a small panic set inside Becca’s brain: “What? Where are you going?” It just seems like she will always have that deep feeling of abandonment within her. She remembers Brenda and then she left and never came back. That just seems extremely critical to me. Very sad. But on the VERY BRIGHT side, Becca is a normal, very happy little girl. She is extremely cute, smart, alert and ENERGETIC, like her mother sister and Father Jim.

the self refuses to appear

May 22nd, 2010

then there were three....


Beverly was forever depressed. Even in her toddler photos you can see something is bothering her. I wonder if she was born with some sort of brain chemical disorder. Her obsession with death. Her rebellious lifestyle. Her fears. Her deep dark secretes. Her never-ending escapes from reality. Three marriages. No children. Several abortions. Relentless addictions. Diabetes. Anorexia. Her close relationship with the enabling side of her mother. The ultimate doom. This poor sister of ours. Such a short life (44) . Such a short time with us. Sadly her death overshadowed by the death of Brenda.
Who were you closer to, Brenda or Beverly or is that an even fair question? Brooke once asked me why I didn’t have a tribute to Brenda on this website. It would be so easy for me to say “I never have time.” After all we did have a special Family Ties edition for Beverly and Mom.
When you wake up everyday, to sunshine or rain
clouds or storm
do you ever stop to think it will be the last day you wake up on this planet?
Like the Bible says, it will come like a thief in the night
We are all killing ourselves slowly. This addictive death over and over and
over and over. The definition of insanity was our inheritance in this life
Generations of troubled souls seeking somehow
serenity from a racing mind
erase the pain of everyday strife
stop the cycle and lets live life
let’s show our children a different beach
sandy feet
soothing waves
cool refreshing shade

Do you notice cinematography on TV? Perhaps if you are a cinematographer. And yet if you have ever seen the show, “Breaking Bad” you can’t help but notice. I am not a big TV person and actually the ONLY TV that I have watched in the past year have been the NFL. I accidently stumbled on this show while visiting an old friend but all I could remember was being totally WOW’ed by this show. Based in beautiful New Mexico and shot with a wide lens, it is the story of a guy who loses all his money to a cancer diagnosis that wasn’t. He cooks and sells crystal meth to save his family. Interesting.
BIG BULLY just GO AWAY
I think World War one was started by another country sinking another countries boat. Recently North Korea has for no reason torpedoed a South Korean ship and declared that if anyone has a problem with it, we are prepared for an all-out war.
Would you believe me if I said the world is ending and we are all hurling towards cosmic conflics that are hotter then the face of the sun?

HELP !!!!!


Right now I’m in a book store listening to this negative fuck next to me tell his wife (who never says a word) I don’t see democracy or capitalism working, I don’t see our culture working, I see no help for the unemployed, we watch too much TV, everybody is addicted to something, the cost of education, the crime in the streets…come on let’s get outta here!” They left their empty cups on the table, didn’t put back the magazines and books they were thumbing thru went out to the parking lot, crawled into their Cadillac SUV and drove home to their protected little shell of a home somewhere in the suburbs.
TEENAGERS
Perhaps the greediest, neediest and most self centered bastards on American soil today. They deserve their high insurance rates, they deserve a empty future of resources, they need a good fucking smack in the ass. A wake up call like never before seen. Maybe an angry country on the other side of the world called North Korea.
Is every person in the nation entitled to drive around in a ton of steel, air conditioning blasting, texting and music blaring?
HELP ME TO understand!
While millions upon millions of gallons of crude oil leak into the gulf of Mexico, the price of gasoline has gone down. It is at the lowest that I have ever seen in 2 years.
How are they going to stop this leak? It is already a bigger tragedy then the Exxon Valdez in Alaska. After they stop it, then what? Is anybody losing any sleep over this?
When you cut off the flow of blood to an human organ it dies. When you cut the flow of nature into peoples lives, their spirit dies. It’s as simple as that.
FACEBOOK
Blank Face Face Blank. About Face. How many hours a day do we spend looking at a screen rather then looking at the faces of real people? 500 Million Facebook users!! The company CEO a 26 year old has disabled his “Friend” button. Privacy issues? Who cares if Big Brother is watching, I have created a much better me on-line then the one I carry with me in real life!

I confess to being a lazy bastard. I don’t care. I don’t want to do nothing. I don’t want to be bothered. I especially hate painting rooms and moving furniture so if you need those things done and I do help you, consider me a hero. Waiting for my medal.

The death of Lima Beans

May 14th, 2010


Some upcoming New Jersey Road Trips:
Brooke will be in NJ June-18th thru 21st.
Becca will be in NJ August -14th – 21st

My sponsor called me up
“Where the fuck have you been asshole?”
“I love you too”
“No really, this ain’t no fucking game!”
“I never said it was…I just…I’ve been busy.”
“BULLSHIT”
*click*

Gil Mercado, 25, Paterson New Jersey comes home

The war rages on and do we really notice? Unless we have somebody over there, what does it matter? Did we win or did we lose? President Obama cleared away an old Bush law saying photos of coffins from the war were banned. So welcome home Gil Mercado! Paterson is probably one of the toughest places to live in New Jersey. It is a war zone of drugs, guns, corruption slums and sleaze. Gil was probably thinking, “Hey, what do I have to lose. I’ll join the Marines to get the hell out of this God-forsaken hell hole of a New Jersey city life. 25 is too young, my God to die for any cause.

If I lived in my car, I would be home by now.

NORTH JERSEY: My new existence? It’s pretty new to me anyway. I was born and raised in central NJ, married and had kids in south NJ (Da Shore) and somehow came back to central NJ then migrated to north NJ. New Jersey has always been broken up into three parts. They are all extremely different from each other. My experience in north NJ has been so far incredible. It is truly the melting pot OF THE WORLD Never have I seen so many different ethnic communities blended together so finely. Northern New Jersey was the site of some of the earliest European settlements in what would become the United States of America. The Industrial Revolution in America started by the founding of the northern New Jersey town of Paterson. PATERSON NJ is an amazing city. Driving through main street on any Saturday afternoon is an open-air market experience that rivals only Disney World on it’s best day. If you speak about Paterson NJ to most people they cringe at the homicide and car theft rate and will tell you that they wouldn’t be caught DEAD there! This past week marked the EIGHT YEAR anniversary of moms death. May 1st. Her mothers name was May. Has it really been that long already? Beverly will be gone TEN YEARS this August. Brenda two years. Is it official yet? Do you think that Becca has any memories of her mother at all? To me that is a tragedy that I can never comprehend. But at least she had some time with her and Brenda had known her for a short while anyway. It was only 100 years ago that it was a crap shot that the mother, child or both survived the birth process. Giving birth was just a risky medical procedure and it truly was a miracle if everything went smooth. Not everyone may know it but mom had a miscarriage in between Beverly and me.

Annual death rate per 1000 total births from maternal mortality in America (1850-1970)

In New York City there is a bar with sawdust on the floor and everything is large and made of oak.

(212) 473-9148 - 15 E 7th St, New York, NY

They serve salami sliced on a cutting board, mustard, ham sandwiches and beer. Nothing else. It is a famous bar with tons of history and bursting at the seams with character. I never cried at moms funeral. I don’t know why. I really thought I should have been balling my eyes out but I didn’t. This isn’t hard for me to say and the past is the past. Besides trying to get me back into an even keel of fellowship and meetings, my sponsor told me to get my head out of the past. (or maybe he said to get my head out of my ass, I’m not sure).

DEATH is a very hard thing to figure out. Throughout the world, death and the rituals that surround it are steeped in taboos. Death is celebrated, embraced and feared. It is the only thing that scientist here on earth or any other planet will ever NEVER totally figure out. It is that great mystery that creates such grief and or wonder. What is our connection with the other side? The third dimension of puffy white clouds, serenity and potatoe chips on the couch. Nobody could imagine heaven or hell, although allot of people claim that we are living hell here on earth. What could possibly suck the life out of something so young, so small, so cute? All the tears and grief for this little doggy and I have filled seven suitcases with guilt that I never cried at my mothers funeral (or my dads) yet, when I experienced the loss of a friend that I had known for a short time, I cried for months……and the loss wasn’t even death!!! It was just a goodbye. So what does this say about me as a human? Do I remember Mom? Of course I do. I was just thinking the other day, how she loved to cook Lima beans as a vegetable. They were almost like eating wax. So I mixed them all up in my mashed potatoes and smooshed them and guzzled them down with my grape Hawaiian Punch and yet today I miss them. Nobody cooks lima beans anymore. No restaurants. No place. No where. No body. They shouldn’t even grow them anymore. I miss lima beans (Phaseolus lunatus) but I don’t miss mom.

Everybody is always “going”:
Where are you “going”? How is it “going?” I’m “going…” Let’s get “going”
In the news: The sole survivor of a plane crash is a 9 year old Dutch boy. 103 people died including his mother, father and older brother. Thankfully, he doesn’t remember the crash. He hasn’t been told yet that he lost his family. He only said this:
“I don’t know how I got here. I just want to get going…”

There was an episode of the Little Rascals when the gang built a “fire engine” out of wood and raced it down a very steep street. Stymie was driving the back and Spanky was driving the front. The fire engine was so long that as they were going down the steep hill, the “fire engine” bent in half. Eventually the back of the “fire engine” caught up with the front of the engine. At this point Spanky the front driver yelled over to Stymie the back driver:
“Hey Stymie, where ya going????”
and Stymie replied,
“I don’t know, but I’m on MY WAY !”
That pretty much sums up life for me.

WHERE DO DOGS GO when they die? Damn it, I wish I knew! Actually, where does everything, everybody, every animal goes when they die?? It is that they just GO, that HURTS u so much. It is so final….so “never again” that the tragedy of it sometimes takes months or even NEVER to heal.

I stood by your bed last night, I came to have a peep.
I could see that you were crying, you found it hard to sleep.
I whined to you softly as you brushed away a tear,
“It’s me, I haven’t left you, I’m well, I’m fine, I’m here.”
I was close to you at breakfast, I watched you pour the milk
You were thinking of the many times your hands reached down to me.
I was with you at my grave today, you tend it with such care.
I want to re-assure you, that I’m not lying there.
I walked with you towards the house as you fumbled for your key.
I gently put my paw on you, I smiled and said, “It’s me.”
You looked so very tired, and sank into a chair
I tried so hard to let you know that I was standing there.
“”It’s possible for me to be so near you every day
To say to you with certainty, “I never went away.”"
You sat there very quietly, then smiled; I think you knew…
In the stillness of that evening, I was very close to you.
The day is over… I smile and watch you yawning
And say “good-night, God bless, I’ll see you in the morning.”
And when the time is right for you to cross the brief divide,
I’ll rush across to greet you and we’ll stand, side by side.
I have so many things to show you, there is so much for you to see.
Be patient, live your journey out… then come home to be with me.
~Author Unknown~

Goodnight. Sleep tight.

“Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell”?

Spring has Sprung

April 26th, 2010

Yeah, it's here so get off your asses, get away from the TV, PC and the FB and find the sunshine again. Bella Hoffman shows us how on Easter in Netcong NJ. Nestled in the western countryside of New Jersey. Joe and Belindas 100 year old home of creaking wood and delicious meals. Joe dissed the Cornhole and brought out the wiffleball and bat. It's baseball season, Hartmans, Hoffmans and Gills! Three strikes and we're out. Plant your gardens, trees, bushes and bring on the bees. It was a long Winter.
Bella is getting so big for those of you who haven't seen her lately.....here she is.

It was another quick but sweet visit but some of the Hartman girls were here for a long weekend. Brittini, Bonnie and Bernadette paid a visit and stayed over Debbie Dinicola and Barbara s house. Hats off to both for the awesome hospitality!

What diapers?


This was Bonnies first Jersey trip in three years. Bernadette seems to find herself here several times a year lately. It's not a bad drive, especially when your husband and son are truck drivers. Britt has grown up a lot too. I can't believe that she is six already. Before we know it Blake will be in college.
BLAKE IS THE LAST HARTMAN GRANDCHILD
I have decided that this isn't true. I am here to announce that at the ripe old age of 49, I am willing and able to have another child. His name will be Wolfgang and when he graduates college, I will be almost 65. Why should Bonnie have the last kid? Maybe Greg will surprise us? Not! It is up to me. I must find ovulating ovaries soon. There is a lot to be said about running around after kids in your fifties. It will keep in shape like swimming never could!

blondies

yellow buckets

April 12th, 2010

An exercise in distortion. (A photo of Krystyna)


If photographs are messages, then the message is transparent and mysterious. Dressed in black, with black hair (black like the night) and a black bra, and black eyes, she introduced herself to my bleakness and told me to have a seat in the kitchen. There she prepared soup from scratch and I watched in amazement as the steam rose from the bubbling pot.
“You make me want to take photographs of everything.”
I said to myself in a dream.

“Why?” the woman in black asked,
“Because I am inspired, by the dreamy quality of life when someone cares about you and you care about them, and you could listen to their stories forever, of their mother and father, the cows, chickens, the artwork and an innocent stroll through a museum filled with yellow buckets of sunshine. Then waking up on a bed filled with yellow buckets of sunshine. My own snoring wakes me up and you are gone. The white dog remains sleeping by my side but I cannot dream consistently without your body next to mine. Buried under the warmth of quilts (because the Spring is still Winters mistress and Summer takes forever to boil over –like your soup, hot steaming fresh. We waited in long lines speaking and thinking Polish, smelling the smoked meats, picking up odds and ends for the Easter feast) Even better than being cared for is caring for. When those two work together then sometimes (mostimes) there seems to be a magical spark within yourself that says “All things are flowing”

When we all woke up from what had to be the worse Winter ever, it is not a coincidence that the tulips are singing, the trees are popping SIX weeks early and Spring has arrived on the express train. The floods in North Jersey have subsided. The snow has all melted and maybe the wind has whistled its last dangerous song. It is days like this when you say, “I’m gonna hold my heart up to the light and see if there is more to it then just muscles and blood. I’m gonna give it all I got to touch you, and hold you, and keep you from the Winters of life. These things I promise, in the Spring of this new decade, a new time to be hoping.” (Yes, I love you)

Mark O’Neil

April 2nd, 2010

Mark O’Neil went to school with me at St. Joesphs (The Worker) Grade school in Carteret NJ. His family lived right next to the school and I remember there seemed to alot of turmoil in their home. They were a pure Irish family, on the short side and Mark was rather nerdish perhaps even a little sloppy. He always seemed to be struggling to hold himself together. His shirt was always untucked, one of his collars would always be pointing towards the fluorescent lights of the classroom. He had a little pot belly and sometimes his zipper was halfway down or his belt was unbuckled. Besides all that, while most kids had bookbags back then, he carried one of his fathers old brief cases. When he opened it, it sort of popped and things flew out and sometimes papers blew into the aisle where Mark would grumpily stumble out of his desk to go bend over and pick it up. As a result of this slight physical feat, his belt would probably pop open, his shirt would untuck and Mark would always be mumbling under his breath and get red-faced. Mark was blessed with Irish fair skin that usually blushed very easily at the slightest discomfort before people. Usually trying to hide the blushed face just made things more embarrassing and the face would get even redder. As a result of all of this Mark O’Neil become easy to make fun of or laughed at. He wasn’t one to bully, though, because of his Irish spirit, he was one tough little fireplug. He had alot of pride, and stubborn determination.

Every year St Joseph (The Worker) of Carteret NJ had a “Talent Show” This was a big event that I think happened at night in front of the whole school and all the parents. The auditorium was transformed into a rather large social extravaganza, most people dressed up and there were decorations and a sort of special anticipation filled the air.

There was usually the same thing every year. Groups of classes lip-synching to a scratchy 45 on a school phonograph. Synchronized dancing. Small one act plays. If a child was brave enough or talented enough, he or she would do a solo either on a musical instrument or singing a popular song of the era. But the solo acts were very rare. One year a girl blew the lyrics to a song and panicked, the crowd kinda laughed, she ended up crying on stage and this became a legend for years. The nuns would be back stage running around setting up the next act or adjusting the clumsy costumes.

This one particular year was going to be special, though, it was seen on the scheduled agenda for this years talent show, that Mark O’Neil would playing the accordion……..SOLO. By himself. On his own. In front of every parent, teacher and child in the whole community of St Joseph (The Worker) Grade School. It was said that even the janitor had somehow booked front row tickets for this amazing event.

I will never forget the quiet that filled the auditorium when the curtain rose and Mark was sitting there on a stool. His white dress shirt slightly untucked his thick hair parted sloppily to the side and a HUGE accordion on his lap.
Now I heard his father playing sometimes when I passed his house so I knew there was some kind of musical thing happening in that household. But it never struck me that Mark was taking lessons from his father for a musical instrument that looked almost twice his size on his lap. A musical instrument that looked slightly more complicated algebra book I had seen in Terry McSherrys room one day. A musical instrument that had so many buttons it seemed to be part of an American lunar landing that was going on in the days this took place.
Mark never looked up. The awkward silence was broken by the sound of this strange carnival sounding thing. It was a song. Some sort of slow sad melody and then ….a broken note….. silence again. Mark started all over. Playing again while audience stared. Then several notes into the song….he messed up again. He started wiggling in discomfort never looking up at the huge crowd in front of him, some of whom started to open their mouths in disbelief. Halfway through the song, maybe, he blew it again and the mistake was loud and whiney. Now more long awkward silence. Mark started mumbling to himself. I think everyone in the audience was uncomfortable as his face started to turn bright red. In the silence, what to do? By now he was physically struggling, sweating and getting redder by the second. Mark gathered up enough courage to start the song again, for the forth time! To most people they were witnessing an epic failure live in person.
It seemed like forever to me, that Mark O’Neil was in front of the whole world stumbling, staggering and failing until finally a nun lowered the gold curtain. Maybe it was God that lowered the curtain because there was a huge sigh of relief that it was finally over. There was a small silence then applause and finally a buzz of talk in the auditorium until the nuns finally opened the curtain to another act; the entire fifth grade class doing the Alley Cat (a popular song and dance at the time)

Mark O'Neil and the accordion


It is a funny thing, the memory. How we remember only certain things in life and forget others. That all that was taught to me that year; math, english, geometry and even art class. That all the people I had has friends. All the things I did, learned, and lived that school year are forgotten except for this moment; Mark O’Neil playing accordion in front of the whole school.
I will never forget his father, how he smiled and hugged him afterwards, I didn’t understand. Mark blew it. He was horrible. He collapsed in front of everyone and will be a laughing stock in Carteret for the rest of his life.

It was years later. After I had kids. After I had learned the disappointments and failures and ups and downs of life. Of learning to live without a father. Of getting over pride and ego. Of learning to accept myself for who I am. Of learning how to keep trying no matter HOW HARD it is that I realized this:
Mark O’Neil playing accordion on stage that school year was the only thing I remember because it was probably the most important learning experience of my life.

James Fredrick Gill answers “The Twenty Questions”

February 8th, 2010

Jim has always been very athletic and competitive.

Jim has always been very athletic and competitive.


Remember the 20 questions? They were devised by Ann Hartman 4 years ago and everyone answered them except Gregory. Well here is Big Jims go at it:
What is your memory of Mom/ Aunt Joan?
Sitting at the table on Whitman Street smoking a cigarette!

2. What are three words that other people use to describe you?
Big, happy, intelligent

3. Who was better Elvis or the Beetles?
Elvis…Beetles…Elvis…Beetles…
It should have been between The Rolling Stones or The Who!

4. What is your favorite song and why?
Anything Van Halen (with David Lee Roth) or off Boston’s first album; vintage ELO as well.
I know that doesn’t answer your question…I guess Desperado by The Eagles…but I really don’t have a favorite song.

5. What is your favorite movie? Can list up to three titles.
Shawshank Redemption and Godfather 1

6. What are you afraid of?
Heights.

7. Do you have any pets?
Cats and a dog

8. Do you wear glasses dentures or a hearing aide?
Glasses only if I want to see the TV, where I am driving at night or anything from a distance!

9.What is the most embarrassing thing that has ever occurred to you?
Pulling the wrong way in junior high; the play went left and I went right…the only one ON FILM that went right!

10. What is the funniest thing that ever happened to you?
They would have to do with flatulence!

11.What color is your bedroom?
Lavender but it’s Tammy’s bedroom, not mine!

12. Which room do you eat dinner in?
Living room.

13. What is your favorite meal?
A hardy Breakfast.

14. What do you do for a living?
Recruit professionals for manufacturing, engineering, accounting and human resource positions.

15. What do you wish you did for a living?
Early in life? To play quarterback or catcher for a professional team.
Now that I have grown up? A teacher and coach for a middle school.

16. What is your favorite subject in school? Do you still like it?
Math first; English second.
Love them both today!

17. Do you know how to drive a stick-shift automobile?
Yes!

18. What is your favorite candy bar?
Snickers!

19. Do you bite your nails?
Used to; don’t now!

21. What is your favorite cereal?
Captain Crunch Reese’s flavored.

22. What is your favorite cereal as a kid?
Don’t know that I had one…Frosted Flakes?

23. What is your nickname?
Now? Don’t really have one…see below.

24. What was your childhood nickname?
Bluegill!

25.What is something we didn’t ask but would like others to know?
In 1978 I spent 33 days in Europe as a People-to-People Student Ambassador.
We visited communist Russia, Belgium, Germany, France, England, Holland, Denmark, and Sweden – great time!

26. Which sibling would you like to get to know better?
I would have liked to have known all of you better.
I know my sisters very well.

27. What shoe size do you wear?
11 ½ – 12

28. How was growing up in a large family better than a smaller family?
When we visited? I always had a ‘brother’ to play football with!

29. What is your proudest accomplishment?
Running a ½ marathon; raising 2 kids, making it on my own; surviving whatever life has thrown at me!

30. What would you like to change about yourself? Why?
Nothing now.
Growing up…I would have liked to have been 4-6 inches taller and more dedicated as an athlete.

31. What is your favorite childhood memory?
Traveling to Grandma’s house (my Mom’s Mom) for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

32. If money were no object where would you like to go?
Travel everywhere. Visit all stadiums throughout the U.S.

33. What is your favorite book?
Anything by James Patterson.

34. How did you meet your spouse/companion/best friend?
On E-Harmony!

35. What is the one thing you would like to do in your life before you die?
Retire and do whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want to and not have any worries!

36. End this with a quote:
Be happy and don’t take life too seriously.

I’ll have a number 18 please

January 22nd, 2010
happy family ??

happy family ??

From the Brady Bunch and Partridge family, the Cleavers, Cunninghams and Crosbys. Are we a happy family? Are you a happy family? Is your neighbor a happy family? This Gill family photo from the side porch of Austin Street in Westfield. Aunt Carol is just a little baby, and she was the sole survivor in this Happy Family until she passed away now, almost two years ago already. My keen questions about the Happy Family to her were abruptly ended by her death.
Who Wrote Happy Family on this Photo?
Was it the Grandmother we never knew? May Gill. (it looks like a womens handwriting) Maybe it was Grandpa Fred, the Westfield police sargent and decorated hero? Naaaa. I did know him and what I knew of him was that he was a very moody, crabby man. Stern would not be the word to describe his harsh treatment of The Mighty Ten. He worked the Westfield police shift in a era of accepted police corruption, “benefits” extreme prejudice and “missing” evidence. His relationship with May was said by Carol to be very stormy. He was accused of several affairs even with a wife and three kids at home.
What Really Happened To Grandma?
She got sick. Died very suddenly at home. She was buried very quickly under Sargent Fred Gills orders without an autopsy. One week later he was with another woman and soon after that they were married.
The rumor spelled out is that he killed his wife and covered it up using his hero power to sweep it very quickly under the rug.
Rumor Number Two
Fred Gill and his daughter Carol were very close. Maybe too close and I will leave it at that.
When I talked to Carol about Austin Street and Gill family, she admitted her close ties with her dad but I never got a feeling of incest. Maybe because it was just too strange to even cross my mind.
Fred Gill was NOT laid to rest next to the mother of his only three children. Would you want to be buried next to the woman you murdered? This is why her son, our Uncle “Brother” Fred Gill is buried there.

I have to try Happy Family sometime

I have to try Happy Family sometime

Slow down!

January 19th, 2010

REBELING AGAINST PERFECTIONISM
If you are trying to be creative or just plain -Living Life- we need to fall away from the mindset that strives for perfection. Being creative means for me to be, well, sloppy. Coming here to this “family”BLOG has been hard because it is just that “family” part that has been keeping me away. Well, fuck that then. From now on I’m going to be sloppy, besides, It seems to be just me here most of the time. Our family is consumed in the woderful world of Facebook and rightly so. It has been an incrediable tool for keeping in touch, laughing, posting photos etc etc. It has been healthy for me here to lay it out. Some kind of psychological suicide leap and splat. I have to own it. It takes guts sometimes to say what you feel TO WRITE what you feel without the fear of being judges and it can be very empowering.

The DECADE in Review
The general consensus: It sucked. Terrorism, Michael Jackson, Global warming, Floods Fires. To me it is all how you look at it. Our measure of time is a joke. First of all it is only a measure of time and secondly who cares. The next ten years, the next “decade” will bring even more floods and stupid celebrities deaths.

Let’s make a big deal out of the king of pops death. That poor freak of nature. Look what money and being famous did to him. The real celebrity of the decade, the REAL HERO, the unsung and saddest death that I hurt me this past decade was the loss of Dana Reeve
This woman stood by her man and took care of him and their son through the deepest of tragedy. When her husband passed away, her sudden, unexplainable, very sad death hurt me like no other. She was a true super woman. God rest her soul.

2009
The year 2009 was perhaps the most interesting and fullfilling for me in my forty-nine years as a male caucasian on this planet earth. Getting laid off in New York City and losing my housing triggered a chain of events that I could not even begin to write down. At one point I had no money, no gas, nowhere to stay and almost no hope. I was “stuck” in the mountains and woods of upstate NY. I hadn’t seen my children in weeks. I was disconnected from society. The micro waves couldn’t reach my cell phone. But I just knew it was temporary . I had learned that no matter how deep I got lost, if I did the footwork, I would pull out of it. I think this thing is called FAITH !

See, this little guy! Great start to a new decade!

See, this little guy! Great start to a new decade!

What Do We Teach Our Kids About Family Love?
Tell them to slow down, if you can. Teach them by example. This society is spinning so fast, at least here on the east coast it seems. Grow your own food. Chop wood. Carry water. Have dinner with the whole family, as a matter of fact, cook dinner, wash and dry the dishes with the whole family.

Or Else?
Or else this society is doomed. If we lose sense of “family” we will lose everything.

The Retard Got Carols Money, Now What?
Well, there might have been a reason for it, if you ever slowed down to think about it. Have you ever really thought about what it’s like not to have a place to go to at night?

Ahhhh, Whitman street. I remember those days like it was yesterday…..almost….but I was called “Retard” “Retard” I guess because I acted like one. Truthfully, for most of my life my head has been spinning. Thoughts and creative processes go faster than I can comprehend them. A cross between ADHD and severe depression but the real diagnosis was Bi-poplar. Finally after 49 years, someone figured it out. My medication has given me a new lease on life. All I want is four walls and a roof. A place to hang my hat. A warm bed. A little space to gather with my boys. Is that asking too fucking much out of life????

Maybe the best way to slow down is to sleep a little more, and pay more attention when you are awake.