Tag Archives: Dad

Whole Myth

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I’m still learning what owning a vehicle in the state of MA means since I haven’t even had it for a a year yet. I got the truck last September and it’s about the time where you get another insurance quote I guess. I asked my dad about what I need to do when September rolls around (things with stickers and whatever) and he asked me how long I’ve had the truck.

“Two years?”

“No, a year in September.”

I was about to write it off as a “You’re getting old, Dad.” moment when it occurred to me that a lot has happened since September, when I got the truck, and the end of November when I returned to Massachusetts from Virgina. I’m not sure how much more my life could have turned around.

And it’s not done turning, even now things are spinning. There is control in this rotation, but a constant honing is happening as I try to round out my life in all its ways.

My recent undertaking is completely cliche- more so than the career switch job search thing. I’m working in an office I drive to and I need to find a way to stay healthy.

For the company meeting we went to the White Mountains in New Hampshire. This was a couple weekends ago and a ton of fun. While there me and my guest took on a portion of the Appalachian trail. We didn’t have hiking shoes, never mind any other gear, but why not? We’re young and able.

That’s how I know I’ve moved from the category of young and able to young and out of shape.

Just last summer I had calves of steel. I walked probably about ten to twenty miles a day for my job and then I had no car to boot. My body and I were friends, even if I wore a less than flattering L. L. Bean polo to make it so.

Now I spend so much time using mental and social skills, and becoming tired doing so, that I forget about the rest of me. I’ve very satisfied with the challenges and the days go by fast, but where is the time and motivation when that ends to excise the rest of me?

I recently purchased a Wii and have a Wii Fit to boot. I figure if I can trick myself into thinking it’s a video game, I’ll exercise. Truth be told, it is working, but I’m starting to think it’s not enough. It can’t replace all of those miles I used to walk by a long shot.

So now I have to figure something out. I could take up some fun outdoor activities I love. It’d be nice to play paint ball again. Most of the things I can come up with are group activities which I don’t have a group for. Adding a social aspect to it makes it even less appealing. Remember my attempts to start roleplaying again? I just wanted to roleplay, but people got in the way. I don’t want to leave this in the hands of other people, so that kind of rules out sports and other group exercise. I’m kind of back to square one with virtual fitness.

I’m sure I’ll figure this all out. As each part of my life falls into place, things have an adjustment period. Once they become easier, then you can add on something else to make your life more fulfilling until one day maybe things feel whole. I wonder and suppose that feeling completely whole might just be a myth. But they say it’s about the journey. It doesn’t stop me from pursuing and striving. And I’m happy, proud, and much more satisfied than I have been in a long time as a result.

Best and Worst of Atari 2600

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Before I even start, I’ll say it’s okay if you don’t agree with this post- that’s what the comments section is for. If people have enough opinions, I might even look into the titles for a follow up post. The following are my opinions on the best, worst, and other awards I deemed appropriate for this 2008 Atari 2600 retrospective!! *cheers, applause* I could spend much more time coming up with other categories and remembering other titles, but here is a start on some of the good, the bad, and the obnoxious. If there are some obvious omissions, like Adventure, it doesn’t mean they weren’t considered. It means I’m leaving fodder for future posts -and- Adventure was already given air time last post.

 

Best in Ground Based Cannon

Winner: Space Cavern

Space Cavern

I know what you’re thinking. How do I dare pick something other than Space Invaders? Well, I dare because the first doesn’t always mean the best. Space Cavern sports both baddies from the sky who shoot at you and dudes from the side who try to flank you as your attention is turned to the sky. You also have nothing to hide under. I remember this being my dad’s favorite game growing up, and last time he saw my Atari 2600 out, sure enough he asked if I still had it.

Best in Horror

Winner: Haunted House

Haunted House

I’m not going to say that Haunted House is scary, but I will say that it has helped pave the way in psychological thriller/horror games that came after. Like in classics such as Clocktower for the SNES, you are a normal (though pixelated) person just trying to escape the extraordinary with your life in tact. This is also, like Clocktower, a game that changes the placement of things every time you play! You move through dark rooms with only a limited glow about your person to avoid all sorts of creepy baddies. Hopefully you can find the key to open all the locked doors. While the graphics may make you laugh, the soundtrack has some creepy sound effects.

Best in Racing

Winner: Enduro

Enduro

I know many of you might think Pole Position was as good as it got, but Enduro was the top of the line. The controls are tight and the graphics believable. The thing that really puts this game above the others is the day, night, and weather changes that made Enduro exciting, and dare I say, a bit realistic even. At night you can only see headlights clearly and in the snow the handling of your car changes. The sound helps with the excitement and nothing feels better than passing the other cars. As a matter of fact, that is the goal- not to beat the timer, but to pass a certain number of cars each ‘day’.

Best in Multiplayer

Winner: Warlords

Warlords

If you were to come over my house right now with a friend or two and say you wanted to play a video game, I just might plop this on. Yes, it is THAT good. You use paddles and play with up to four people (you can have others be controlled by the A1 which is surprisingly good). The object is to simply smack each other’s ‘base’ with a ‘ball’. You can intercept the ‘ball’ with your paddle controlled ‘person’ and either catch and throw it or smack it away. You must first chip away at the ‘shield’ around the base to get the chance at winning. The fun of this game reminds me of Bomber Man a bit in it’s style and combination between luck ans strategy.

Best in Simple Fun

Winner: KABOOM!

Kaboom!

If you know me in real life, you might know that I have occasion to sport a KABOOM! t-shirt. And why not? This game is just as much fun you’re going to find on an Atari 2600. The premise is uber simple: a robber is dropping bombs and you have to catch them as the fall to the bottom of the screen in- you guessed it- tubs of water. It’s sort of the opposite of your ground based cannon- a ground based catcher. There is plenty of animation and pretty colors. Unlike most Atari 2600 games, the graphics are even surprisingly easy to comprehend and appropriate. The game starts off easy, but soon your rocking your spinny paddle.

Best Ported from the Arcade

Winner: Dig Dug

How many Atari 2600 games were simply arcade games reprogrammed for the home? As PacMan shows us, this didn’t always lead to good things as often they became shoddy shadows of their former selves. Though the graphics took a hit when coming over, Dig Dug remains the same addictive game you remember spending your quarters on. The controls and gameplay remain intact as you tunnel your way through dirt and pump your enemies full of air (“blow them away!” Har!). The only thing you might notice is some lag time when too many enemies are on the screen. Other than that, this game remains intact and very enjoyable.

Most Mindless Fun

Winner: Barnstorming

Sure, there’s a point to this game, but who cares! You get to fly an indestructible plane around to your heart’s content crashing into barns and poor hapless ducks(?) that emit a funny noise and shoot forward when hit. You can even pile up a bunch of ducks in front of you for maximum hitting and squaking! Fan-tastic!

Best Innovation & Atmosphere

Winner: Mountain King

Mountain King

This was the one Atari 2600 game that actually successfully drew me in. The setting a creepy mountain landscape where you begin by collecting piles of dots (coins?) that make a noise when you pick them up. You are armed with a flashlight and ability to jump and climb ladders. The jumping is challenging, but unique as you point diagonally up, and then down when you want to angle back downward. Once you collect enough piles, they stop making noises and you hear a creepy tune. The tune actually gets louder as you get closer, and quieter as you get further away, to the bouncing, invisible, flicker-dot. You navigate up, down, and side to side (which loops) to try to get close enough to see the flicker out of the corner of your eye. The music gets loud ominous and you approach closer and flash your flashlight on it as it bounces side to side to get away. You pick it up. Now you must go to the throne which is near the bottom middle and get the crown. The skull will let you past now that you have the flicker-dot. Once the crown is on your head, the tune Mountain King begins and the bats start a-coming. You are on a time limit to get to the top of the mountain and those bats can take your crown away. There are also other things you can find with your flashlight and if you find yourself at the bottom of the screen, a different type of enemy may mow you down. I don’t think any other Atari 2600 game ever got my blood going like this one, or was as fun to watch. There is a lot of atmosphere and urgency that will bring you back again and again.

Most Obnoxious Sounds

Winner: Yar’s Revenge

Yar's Revenge

This is the only game I remember jumping up to turn down the volume on before one of my parents got pissed. That’s how bad that alarm-like noises are. Overall, I know a lot of people love this game, but I never cared for it anyways, and the noises further prevented my attempts at trying to like and bond with this game.

Worst Gameplay

Winner: Raiders of the Lost Ark

I know there might be a few people out there who enjoyed this atrocity. To do so, one must have turned down the music, liked the inability to move randomly, had a second set of hands to control their inventory on the second controller, and been able to decipher the more horrible than normal graphics and figure out what the heck to do! Or… they just called a 900 number or peeked at the back of the manual. If you need to cheat just to figure out what is going on, I don’t think it’s a worthwhile play. While there might be some other more forgettable games out there with worse gameplay, this one was very widespread and disappointed a lot of people.

Biggest Bomb

Winner: ET

ET

It seems like no one can talk about Atari 2600 without mentioning the landfill full of ET cartridges. It’s still the easiest game to find and purchase in its original form. Why? Just play for a few minutes and you’ll see. Unless you read the manual, nothing makes sense, and even if you do, the game is hard for the wrong reasons and has not much to do with ET. If you like falling down a pit a lot and having a hard time getting out, you might like this game. I have to point out the irony of all the ET games that ended up in a cemented landfill and the fact that ET falls down a pit so often in this game.

 

So I hope you enjoyed my memories of Atari 2600 in it’s glory. I did. I have a sudden urge to organize a Warlords game. Why not, I’ve done it for Gauntlet II and Dr. Mario after all. Feel free to post your own feelings on your favorites and least favorites. With the technology of emulation, you can try these titles, but I’m afraid the lack of paddle & joystick can be sad.

Scenes from Childhood

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Westminster Street, Worcester MA I can’t sleep. Dada. Hiss. Moon in the window. My flower undies. Rocking yellow wicker. White soft sheets. Warm. Rocking. Yawn. Creak. Rocking chair.

The whiffle ball and bat are still in the car. They are brand new. I have to practice for when I’m older and can join the major leagues. I’m not even five yet, but Mom says it’s okay to go across the street to the car and get them. Mom gives me the keys. They’re in the back seat, so I have to unlock the door in the front because there’s no keyhole in the back. I can crawl in the back real easy, which is more fun and faster than unlocking the back door. I crawl back into the driver seat and decide to put my bat and ball in the passenger seat. I’m the driver. Vroom, vroom! I turn the wheel and peer over the dashboard. The wheel doesn’t move when the car is off, but I can pretend. I can see pretty good when I sit on my knees. Suddenly I’m not pretending. The trees are moving, and I’m going down the hill. I’m in so much trouble. I’m stopped and I don’t remember crashing into the tree. I’m in the yard again but Mom’s there and she’s screaming at me.

Meatloaf had five kittens. Then she had another four later. They seem kind of dirty to me and I think they need a bath. I asked the fishies if I could use their water. They don’t mind. There is a little light at the top of the tank so I can see the kitties swimming around. They’re having fun meowing and swimming around. Mom comes in and she’s mad. She’s drying the kitties and she won’t let me pet them, even though I asked. I said please.

You can run all the way from the kitchen, into the living room, into mom and dad’s room, and jump onto the bed. You can’t do it when mom’s sleeping during the day. You can’t do it when dad’s sleeping at night. But, when mom goes to work, then we can play roll ’em! Dada rolls and we fall down if we don’t jump over him. He also has the recking-ball lemon-squeezer. It’s really just his cast and his leg. He’ll squeeze us if he can catch us, but he never catches me. I’m too fast.

When you are watching television and you turn it off or change the channel, why isn’t it the same thing you were watching when you turn it back on? Why can you do that with the movies as Grouchy Grandma’s house?

Chris said that if I pick up all his baseball cards for him, then I get to keep them. He really doesn’t want to clean his room. So, I pick up every single card, even the ones under his bed which smells like pee. After I’m done, he laughs at me and takes the box of cards. I put my hands on my hips and tell him that he’d better give me them or I’ll call the police on him. He laughs. Dada walks into the doorway. He tells Chris to give me the cards. He tells Chris not to make deals he can’t keep. Don’t be an Indian-giver.

It’s in the middle of the night and I’m creeping out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. Dada is in the living room next door, so I can see a little. I crawl onto a chair and then the kitchen table. There’s almost a whole stick of butter in the dish. Midnight snack. I make it back to my bed undetected.

When Dada helps me change clothes, he tells me to lift up my arms so he can take my shirt off. Sometimes he doesn’t do it all the way and the shirt is stuck on my head. He tells me I have a nice hat.

We live in a triple decker which means there are people living upstairs. One of the people is boy older than me. He’s as old as my brother, but he’s not like my brother. He hates my brother and together we make fun of him. Sometimes though he plays with my brother instead and they make fun of me. They can both say the alphabet faster than me. They say that means that they’re smarter.

I’m playing pretty ponies and little people when my brother opens the door and farts. He closes the door and runs away laughing.

Every once in a great while my dad smokes a cigar. I don’t like the smell, especially when it gets in my room, but it’s funny when he puts it in the plastic Halloween pumpkin’s mouth. The pumpkin looks funny smoking.

On one side of the triple-decker there is a bank-in. It’s steep, with trees, but then gets flat again at the bottom. We’re not supposed to play there, but we do. We even have a fort. Chris doesn’t play fair, though. Chris only has fun if I’m not having any. He’s laughing in the bank-in. I’m at the top. I’m going to go tell mom and dad, but they won’t do anything. If I scare him so we won’t laugh at me again. I find a rock I can barely lift. I throw it next to him, down the bank-in. It’s heavy, but the slope helps. It hits his head. He falls down. He screams. I stand at the top of the bank-in. I just watch him scream. My parents come and take him, yell at me. No one believes that I didn’t mean to hit him.

We have a stone wall in the back running along the apartment. It is between the side of the yard where the swing set is and the side of the yard with the bank-in. The wall has a bit of ground at the top of it, then a fence that separates us from another apartment. Sometimes we climb up and sit there. Is being off the wall when you are on the wall and jump off? The jumping doesn’t last very long and it’s not very high up. I don’t get it.

Mom says that we are human beans. God is not a human bean, though. He is just a bean. I don’t think that makes sense. I think he’s kind of like a cloud that looks like the face of a man, the man in the moon. What do we have to do with beans? What kind of beans?

When Chris is mean to me I tell him I’m going to call the police on him. Sometimes he believes me and stops being mean. He doesn’t believe me this time, so I pick up the phone to call the police. I put it to my ear and a man’s voice says, “This is the police.” I scream and put down the phone. Dad comes in laughing. It was him on the other phone. I didn’t know you could do that.

Dreams: Busy Night

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It’s no wonder I don’t feel rested sometimes- and this is only the stuff I can remember!

—–

I’m dragged out of bed by my dad while I’m still sleeping. I’m so tired that I can’t hear anything for the first several minutes. Dad pushes me out the door. I have no socks or shoes on and no bra. Dad lets me buy shoes on the way to where we’re going, but not a bra. We stop at a convenience store and he goes to the clerk pay.

“Why do you need a bra? You look fine!”

Scoff.

“I don’t care how I look. I need support,” I look at the clerk, “Am I right?”

“She’s right, you know,” agrees the clerk.

I’m at a friend’s house now. She lets me borrow socks and a red bra. It’s late afternoon. There’s a hooking-up and dating BBS she wants us to try. I told her I thought of trying it once with a two mutual friends of ours, but I chickened out.

“Nevermind,” she says and goes to finish doing the dishes.

I stop her and tell her I’ll think about it. She smiles and asks me what’s different about this time. I tell her that I think it would be okay if I was with people I trust and I trust her. I also start to tell her about something that happened this past summer, but she gets excited and runs off to hurry up her house work. I’m on the fence, but if I’m with her and out mutual two friends, It’ll be fine. When the desktop PC finishes loading I dial the BBS. She logs in on her account. As we start to look through the profiles of groups of people I start to get excited. It has brief descriptions, sometimes pictures, of who they are, what they’re looking for, and interests. Finally we settle on one we both feel good about and know our friends ill be too. The group consists of Asian American 20-somethings who in general like Asian food, video games, and anime. My friend registers us as interested and describes our group. We’re given a time and place to meet today. We get ready, call our friends, and head out.

There is more than one group that was interested in the one we picked, so there is a foot-race to determine who gets the chance to meet them. I run as fast as I can and finish in a decent place, but most of my group is slow, so we lose. I’m sort of disappointed but figure we can just go back to her apartment, log in, and find another group. My friend tells me it’s too late in the day and the Board will be closed by the time we get back. I didn’t know it had hours. It’s a new thing, I’m told.

The next day I have to drive into town to attend a thing for my old high school. The event is in a very large auditorium. The people attending don’t even take up half of it. The proceedings are long and boring and I can’t pay attention. I start playing with a rubber band. I play with it simply at first, then hook it onto the ceiling and start using it to bounce and do aerobic tricks. I realize I should probably stop before someone notices. It’s with that thought, while in a back flip, I get tangled up in the rubber band. I can see how I can untangle myself, but I think the rubber band will snap. I’m worried it will fly at someone and poke their eye out. I do it and it doesn’t hit anyone. I end up spinning a bunch and get very disoriented and sick (like merry-go-round meets cliff-face vertigo). I crouch down to keep a low profile and crawl to where my old high school classmates are seated. I see a guy I used to know and go to sit by him. He helps me into my seat, probably thinking I’m drunk even though I explain. I’m suddenly reminded that I have a form that someone at this presentation has to sign to prove that I attended. I ask him if he could, give him the form, and show him which check boxes to check and where to sign. I lean over to point and he starts groping me. I push away, but my balance is still off and I stumble into the isle. He catches me, help me up (still groping), and helps me into a seat. He checks the wrong boxes on the form as blackmail. I say screw this and leave.

I have one more errand to get done today. I’m going to be early. According to an email it’s voluntary extra work day at the children’s museum I used to work at. I’m hoping to see some friendly faces and earn some brownie points- who knows- land a new job. I go to the front desk where my old supervisor is. She is busy talking to someone, but stops to introduce me. She says she’ll be right with us to start soon, but meanwhile I could fix up my finger nails. She thinks it’s important and there is a bin across the room full of nail polish. I look at my nails and they are worn at the tips- black with a clear coat of silver sparkles on top. I look through a bin with another girl who I start talking to. I tell her whose job I used to have. She says she likes my cow shaped purse. I open in and show her a cow shaped coin purse inside that says “moo-lah” on it. She says she has a friend who collects those. I tell her that I didn’t know they were collectible and I got it from my aunt on my birthday. She tells me she wishes I still worked here because I seem so nice and friendly. I thank her for the compliment and wish I had thought to grab food before I came.

While working we find a bunny outside. It’s not a wild one, but someone’s lost or abandoned pet. It’s big, tan and white in the belly and I pet it until it trusts me. Then I try to put it in a cage and it freaks out. I catch it again and put it in my truck where my cat is in his carrier.

It’s late when I get done. I’m driving on a rural road banked by trees. A large truck hauling logs comes up the road towards me and I realize he’s on the wrong side of the road. I try to go to the left, but still get hit on the right side, flipping my truck over. I’m okay. I check my bunny and cat. The cat seems fine, but my new bunny is dead. I call 911 with my cell phone and say what happened and where I am roughly. I tell them I don’t know if I’m hurt, my shoulder and knee don’t feel too good. I’m angry and say,

“That driver must have been drunk, because no one is that dumb.”

They tell me to get out of the truck and off the road. I take kitty with me. I go to take the dead bunny, but realize it doesn’t matter. The police and ambulance arrive. They drill me with questions about what happened until Mr. Gruff Driving a Logging Truck fails his breathalyser. The ambulence crew wants to put me on one of those stiff boards in case I have a neck injury. I tell them my neck is fine and I’ve been walking and bending it for twenty minutes. They still want to and I tell them no way am I getting in one of those things. Last time I was in one, I was left in one for a few hours. I saw my sister lay in one for two. My shoulder and knee hurt and it will make them hurt more. And my bunny is dead and I’m pissed. I ask the police if they think the driver will have to pay for the vet bill when I get my cat checked out. I ask them if I can sue for hurting me, my cat, and killing my bunny.

Dreams – Trick or Treat

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I dream a lot- every night- more than once every night. I have nightmares frequently, and sometimes they’re so bad that upon waking it feels like I never slept. Sometimes they wake me up, or me shaking and gasping for air wakes me up. One night it’s one long dream, and others it’s channel flipping experience. Sometimes it’s the same dream repeating with different middles or endings. Sometimes I have a recurring dream I originally had years ago. Often I die in my dreams. Sometimes I die more than once (probably from growing up with a ‘multiple guys’ video game concept). Often it’s violent and on purpose. There are times I know I’m dreaming. I can control the dream after realizing I’m dreaming, or I wake up. I dream I’m me, someone I know, a character, a third person disembodied watcher, and I even occasionally play more than one character in my dream (switching from time to time). I fly, lose my teeth, go to school naked, save the world, meet aliens, forget my locker combination, run away from infested humans, make love, eat brownies, turn blue, and more.

I dream, and then I spend all morning trying to forget about the bits and pieces that stick with me. Sometimes I write or type them down.

—–

It’s Halloween and all I want to do is go trick or treating, but my pillow case is empty and I’m going through the arcade first. On Halloween you get candy from games too, but sometimes it’s hard waiting your turn to get on some of the machines. I’m excited, and I’m here with friends laughing, moving from roped-off machine to machine. I put my bag near the coin slot where candy will come out if I score high enough. The lights are dim and tinted green and red. Fake cobwebs adorn the place. The place is set up like an arcade maze, machines against machines in zig-zagging patterns.

We have to leave (don’t remember why). We’re driving to find houses to trick or treat at, but there aren’t any. There’s just empty roads and countryside. We found a lone house on top of a hill, but they had no candy, only water and a bathroom. None of us know how to drive in the dream, but we do anyways because we want to trick or treat. I wish we could have just stayed at the arcade. One of my friends broke their arm because one of us drove so badly. There was no accident, they just got one from being in the van while it was swerving and stopping sharply.

I didn’t want anything to do with the bad driving, so I left, walking to the center of town. There was a club/bar with two floors and a patio in the back. It was open and packed. The tables were round and everything was wooden and stained- the tables, floor, walls, bar- and there weren’t any decorations unless you count the umbrellaed patio furniture outside. In this dream I’m not old enough to drink (even though I am) but I get served anyways. An old couple looks at me accusingly. I go outside to the patio with the Christmas lights because it’s so crowded inside and my dad was in there being loud and embarrassing. I tried to tell him about the lack of houses, but he didn’t care about my trick or treat woes. On the patio I found my friend with the broken arm. He had a green cast. He sat on the stairs outside alone. The night was clear and crisp. We breathed fog and looked at the moon.

Childhood in Uxbridge

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It was Thanksgiving. After a morning of running around breakfast, putting on our showers, and gulping down our getting ready, we managed to get everyone packed in the car. Dad drove us around Uxbridge.

Uxbridge was an old mill town perpetually trying to stay an old mill town even as everything around it changed and grew. People lived in places parted by inched lawns nestled side by side, trimmed guardian bushes, and trees out back. Many lived in large houses at the end of winding dirt roads unseen by any neighbor. The only landmarks to their house would be trees and maybe a mailbox, probably camouflaged in green on a wooden post.

The town had the air of things passed. It had different areas, down town, north, south, but no one would refer to any part of Uxbridge by saying so without a slight sneer or bit of sarcasm. Saying Uxbridge had a down town was pointing out a gas station, a liquor store, and the bank and calling it the big center of it all.

Then there was the river and it’s canal that flowed through the town, including the down town, where it cascaded into a waterfall right outside of the liquor store waiting to catch those who would not wait to return to their homes. This valley clutched to the idea of people coming together around the river out of necessity. In more recent times it was a smelly, sewage line through the town with walkways along side it so people could walk their dogs and try to catch sight of the mutated frogs. Sometimes you’d catch a brave soul canoing. You’d stare like a redneck at the NASCAR race track, waiting for the boat to capsize so you could have something to say around the dinner table that night or chat about on the ride to Grandma’s house in this case. You could take turns predicting what terrible diseases they could get. My money’s on leukemia. Chris says cancer. I say leukemia is a type of cancer. Chris says it’s not. We are silenced by a twisted figure in the passenger seat pointing a finger dangerously.

“You better shut up, right now!” threatens my mother. We revert to arguing in glances.

“Would you relax, Ann?” my dad mutters. This only makes mom angrier.

“It’s awful to be saying things like that about people! The river is fine! All sorts of animals live by it. You remember Jeremy? He used to go canoeing in it all the time, and he’s fine. It’s not nice to joke about cancer! Would you rather we still lived in Whitinsville? Or Worcester?”

“Oh, they like it fine here, Ann,” said my dad as patient and cheerfully as he could muster, “They’re just joking around, right?”

“Sure,” me and my brother both intoned, surprised to find ourselves in agreement. I knew that wouldn’t do.

“It’s a bit isolated,” I admitted, daring my mother’s wrath, “We have to drive at least a half hour to get anywhere. There’s nothing to do really.”

“Nothing to do?” my mom asked incredulously, “What do you mean there’s nothing to do? I’m sick of you two always saying you’re bored.”

“I didn’t say anything,” said Chris.

“You just did,” I told Chris.

“Well you can travel where ever you want to and live where ever you want to live when you’re older,” said my dad, the diplomat, “You’ll come to realize that exciting places have bad things about them too.”

“Yeah, but I bet their schools don’t suck as much,” muttered my brother.

“Don’t swear!” screamed my mother, rounding on him with the finger.

“What? I didn’t swear! What swear did I use?”

“Yes, you did. You know you did. You said it sucks.”

Hating to side with my brother, but needing to be honest, I came to his defense, “Mom, sucks isn’t a swear.”

“It’s not a nice word! And I don’t want to hear it again!” yelled my mom resolving the matter, “Besides, you’d belly-ache about school no matter what school you went to.”

“Yeah, school sucks.”

“Christopher!”

“Oh, right. School blows.”

Nobody answered Chris that time. I was amazed my mother fumed silently. She did this very seldom.

Finally my dad pulled over at one of the nature preserves for the river and got out his camera. He wanted to let us run around a little and take some pictures. My dad was a carpenter and car guy, but underneath that with his manual 35mm Minolta in hand, he was an art-tist!

Late at night when he’d had a few beers in him he would take out boxes of pictures he had taken all over the country. He said they used to be in albums and packets, but my mother had unsorted them all on various occasions wanting to make new albums but never finishing. My dad would tell me of an ancient time before I was born.

“Here’s one of my hotrods,” he said, then going on to say what specific car it was and what it had to make it go so much better than other cars, “This one I crashed while I was tripping.”

“What happened to the other ones?” I asked, eyes scanning the shiny red machine.

“Kids. That’s what happened. I met your mom. I sold my hotrods.”

It was a sad tale. I bowed my head in respect, then thought of another question, “What happened to the camera that you took all of these pictures with?”

“Your mom. That’s what happened to it. Every time I take it out to go shooting she takes a bunch of crap pictures that are out of focus and over or under exposed. When I try to explain it to her, she gets mad at me. If I tell her she can’t use the camera, she gets mad at me. So, I keep it hidden away.”

It was a sad tale. My dad would continue on to other pictures.

Now he had a generic automatic Kodak camera that even my mom could take pictures with. You could still always tell which ones my dad took.

“C’mon, let’s get a group shot by the river.”

We all went off next to the Blackstone river, pretended to like each other enough to get closer, closer. Mom smelled like stale cigarettes, my brother like piss.

“Chris, put your hand down and stop being a wise ass. Now everyone smile!”