Category Archives: my father

Take that flag (and all it represents) and shove it

I just can’t take it anymore. Last night I quit the Red Mustang Registry Facebook group. I saw one too many Confederate flags. And let’s make a distinction – it was the cross of St. Andrew battle flag, NOT the … Continue reading

Posted in black lives matter, Confederate flag, donald trump, Facebook, my father, nazis, Police, police shooting | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

An open letter to my dead father

Trigger warning: lots of them; read at your own risk. That young boy without a name anywhere I’d know his face.  In this city the kid’s my favorite.  I’ve seen him. I see him every day.  Seen him run outside … Continue reading

Posted in abuse, anxiety, bipolar, Catholic school, childhood terror, existential dread, growing up, mom, my father, parenting, parents | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Nightmares of my Father and other things

I must write this out because I fear if I don’t this day could be worse than I’d imagined. I already clawed my way out of bed 10 minutes late, had a cup of coffee and a small bowl of … Continue reading

Posted in Amy Bleuel, anxiety, ativan, bipolar, fear, my father, parents, PTSD, suicide prevention awareness, violence | Leave a comment

Dad, you ever hear of The Tubes?

I always prided myself on thinking on my feet. In my family, it was a survival skill and often the result of the mercurial nature of my other three family members.  It was a fine summer afternoon back in 1976 … Continue reading

Posted in Afternoon Delight, Cleveland, culture shock, growing up, my father, radio, sing-along, The Tubes, WMMS | Leave a comment

Happy Bloody Thanksgiving!

The latest thing in journalism and sociology on the eve of Thanksgiving is writing ‘survival guides’ for dealing with relations who may not share your political beliefs. This isn’t anything new, but after this election, many familial relationships are turning … Continue reading

Posted in blood, childhood terror, donald trump, Facebook, football, hell, Julia Child, my father, Saturday Night Live, Thanksgiving, turkey | Leave a comment

Me and a tree

In the backyard there was a pine tree.    Where I used to sit on the roof. The tree is marked with an arrow. The pool was not there when I climbed it. On the trunk, some branches had been … Continue reading

Posted in Adventure!, Army, bipolar, childhood terror, country life, Ft. Jackson, hypomania, my father, parents, regret, shame, tree climbing, When we were very young | Leave a comment

How I Got My Parents to Buy A Color TV

I shudder to think of what could have happened. What happened was bad enough. Of course, you know I was a curious child, which has gotten me in trouble ever since. And my dad, a Korean War Marine MP knew … Continue reading

Posted in Captain Penny, Cleveland, growing up, my father, parenting, parents, Sears, television, When we were very young | Leave a comment