Well I guess now is the best time as any to restart this blogging thing. This is more to help me process where I have been, what I have seen, where I might be going, the heroes I have met along the way, and the adventures and misadventures in my life . Its been a long hard road up to this point yet the memories that I have made will last more than my life time. I guess some inner reflections are needed as I move through this pivotal point in my life. So without further ado lets start at the beginning and hope I don't bore myself and who ever reads this with the trips down memory lane. Be for warned that some memories are not as clear and this is not a PG version of unicorns and lollipops.
Where to start.......I guess I can go back to my early childhood and begin from there. My inner child is screaming with delight at this point. So fall with me back to 1985, I believe, to the southern portion of Missouri. I was only 3 or 4 at the time so my concept of time is really based on when cartoons were coming on. Tucked back in the Ozarks of southern Missouri I want to say during spring time My grand parents owned a farm and I lived there with my father. I don't know to this day how may acres they had but to me it was big. My grand parents drive way was situated I want to say a mile and a half (Again this is just guessing as my concept of distance was limited to yelling distance and I couldn't hear anyone from that far away) off of the paved road. Now their house was back off the main dirt road another mile I want to say. Set atop a slight rise and clearing in the Ozark southern Missouri landscape was a two story stone facade house with a big front porch that faced west. A bigger screened in back porch faced east and to me this was home.
Now my father and I lived apart from my grand parents in an A-framed house past, and below the rise, of this wonderful stone house. This home was one my dad and my grand father built that was about half a mile or so from the main house. The A-frame was two stories and had one bathroom, a fairly large kitchen/laundry room, and a living room that looked up to the loft of the two bed rooms. Out front of the house was my domain. I had all of my Tunka trucks, my sand pile (to hell with a box when you have a PILE of sand to play in), and a tire swing. I remember playing for hours out there hauling sand and rocks to various front yard destinations and bringing treasures beyond description back to the tire trees that seemed to shield the house from the sky.
Now my dad owned a blue 1980 something Ford F-150 that he would park close to the tree with the tire swing in it. I loved that truck from as early as I can remember. I loved it so much that I promised myself I would own one just like it when I grew up. You could do EVERYTHING with that truck. Climb mountains, haul a house, fight crime, fly, and run everything over. The military needed to invest more money in my dads truck as I was certain that it could take on a tank and win handily. Not to mention fly everyone and everything to the tank versus truck duel.
At the A-frame I don't remember watching much TV. My father had some really interesting stuff that to this day I know none of my siblings or anyone grew up with ever had the chance to experience. For example, my dad could play the banjo. He would practice fairly regularly and I would listen (no one said sit as I was a very energetic little shit) to him play. Every now and then i would ask him to play Mary Had a Little Lamb or the likes and sometimes I would ask if he could play the dueling banjo's beginning cords (I didn't come out and say dueling banjos but I would sing the opening chords and say play that "insert opening chords" song).
We also had a dual record and 8 track player in the living room. As far back as I can remember my dad would put on country music. He would sing and I would be in wonderment of this man who drove the most bad ass truck in the world, played banjo better that Beethoven could play a piano, and who's singing was seconded best only to my grand mother. We played all the great groups and artist of the time from the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band to Pure Prairie League but the best of the best in my opinion even to this day was Jerry Jeff Walker. I still listen to Jerry Jeff as he has helped me through some rough times in my adult life much like I'm sure he helped my father.
He also had this bear skin rug. God I'll never forget that damn rug. That bear skin rug was completely bad ass. At one point I think I asked my dad if he killed it. I don't remember the answer I got but what else can you expect.
On most Sunday mornings my dad would cook breakfast for us with the record/8 track player blaring in the back ground. The smell of bacon and eggs, or biscuits, or hell just breakfast would make me smile.To this day, on the weekends, I cook breakfast in much the same fashion. Music loud, coffee going, and a smile on my face.
Now the question may have been asked by you the reader, where is this kids mother? You know that is a damn good question. I remember vaguely that divorce in that time was still frowned upon. Well my father had divorced my mother and I didn't know that this wasn't normal until I got older. However, thanks to one of my many misadventures in life, I learned he made the right choice. That's a story for another time though.
So on Sundays after we ate and did the normal chores (cleaning, laundry, playing in the sand pile) we sat down and watched Doctor Who on PBS. Now this was on a TV with rabbit ears and to change the channels you turned knobs on the TV. You had two different settings UHF and VHF. Hey at least it was in color.....sometimes. I don't remember much of the shows but I know I had fun watching them.
I am cashed out now of the early memories. There is more to follow as we next will visit my grand parents and here is were all the good stories start happening. Thanks for reading.
Nate.
