Happy Family

The hardest hits are those that you don't see coming.

Whiplash is a horrible thing. And that is what has happened here tonight. I'm going to tell a small story, omitting many details and much of the story, not because I need to, or because I want you to read and know this story in the advent that it comes up in conversation, but... okay? Stan?

Well, when the great schism of my household occurred, I was ready, I was braced for the impact. Well, as braced as anyone can be, I suppose, for such a behemoth of a fuck-up to hit. That was early last summer. I cried the night he told me, not because I needed to, but because I wanted to. It was strange for me at the time, I knew I should cry, I thought I'd somehow be better off... which I suppose I was, because I handled it pretty well. Pretty well minus the fact that I got into a fight with a kid I had never met on the third day of school, but that was it.

My dad was always the best of the best. Never gave a shit about nothin' that didn't matter. He never smiles in pictures, he has no need of a fake smile. He makes fun of those whose only love is to cut the grass and fuck their wife and watch ESPN. Those who ignore the needs of the children, those needs that mother nature has given them herself. He is who he is. My idol. My pop. He moved out last August, and was strong. His biggest concern, of course, was me and my two kiddie sisters. He called often, asking about how I was, if I needed anything etc. I was always cool, I mean, I learned from the best right? It has been said that in the battle of the rock and river, the river always wins: not out of strength, but persistence. Well, time grinded away at the rock and slowly but surely he is starting to smoothen along the edges. Horribile dictu. I've been staying strong, for now I'm a man in his eyes, and may soon become his support.

His life was his family. I'll repeat for emphasis: He had no life save his family. His priorities had no need to be checked by an online "Are you really happy?" quiz. He is my pop, and I love him.

So this stays with me wherever I go now, it has become my baggage that I'd always wanted to never have. So tonight, I'm looking through some old pictures, looking for a particular of Jordan, Ben, my mom, and me at King's Island on the Vortex. And I find the bombshell. Happy family.

I believe that was the night we got our beloved dog, Jake. I have never seen him smile like this.



Pictures: My grandfather, known as deda. My pop, with his god-daughter, Stephanie. Happy family.

Where I've Been

That said, he likes the game. A lot. Craig loved Bethesda's previous Elder Scrolls title so much, he took a week off from work just to play it, and he's already invested at least 70 hours playing the new one. His wife isn't crazy about the obsession, but the game probably hasn't harmed his real-world social life because all his nearby friends are playing it, too.
His new side career as a master assassin did, however, keep him from updating his blog for a few weeks, parked at Cancerbox.com, and some of his readers started to complain.
"Its craziness," Craig posted apologetically, when he finally got back online to update his site. "Game has consumed my soul."

The washington post.

Oblivion.

That's where I've been, how about you?