| Random Chronicles Fifth Tale |
| New Hampshire Writers |
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| From the creative mind of a New England fisherman comes... |
| Out Of Order Tales From The Sea by Billy |
..Made along the way.
So I was reading back threw some of my stories and noticed the
glaring errors in spelling and sometimes grammar. I once argued to no
avail to a teacher these things will become known as my "style" of writing.
Treating those that read what I write to what my eyes read when I
read. What? Dyslexia is a funny thing, sometimes other times very
frustrated confined to a life time of not believing what I've read. Yup I'm a
guy that doesn't read the directions first not often because I'm
better than them just sometime because I'm better off without them. The
saying goes "Welcome to my world" I mean you no harm if you have to
reread a sentence or two again to figure out what I meant. If you find
yourself running out of breathe running along a sentence please pause where
the comma should be. Take a break at a missed period, over time
you'll get threw it like I do when reading regular old anything. Kind of
like looking threw rain drops on your windshield or spots on glasses.
And mine were thick. Colin and I spent most of Jr. high cartooning
that very fact. "Dubhead" as a nick name was developed on doodled
paper, book covers and anything else our misplaced frustration could find
an outlet. At this time my family life was turning shitty beyond
belief. The disease my father suffers in combination with PST, reliving a
most horrific event in "Nam" the untold thoughts and stories witnessed
as a Navy SEAL battle him still to this day. Two tours, two purple
hearts, he's been shot twice, dead man floated a canal for 9 hrs too deep
into the "hot" zone. Had boats blown up on him, holes shot threw them
and on board crew members brutally killed. That's just what happened to
him I sometimes wonder the damage the strongest man I have ever known
reaped. Apparently there was a wanted poster posted by the NVC a
bounty on "Crazy Man"...guess who.
I had my own wanted sign "father" but as much as he tried, he
really did I know but the alcohol let him never reach the level of what my
sister mother or I needed. Judz, my mom did however find ways to
surround my sister and I with many different good people who all had their
own special offerings and then there was the ocean. I lost touch with
Jim and held great hate towards him the horrors lived in a verbally
abusive home, walking on egg shells not wanting to set him off. Sometimes
doing it just to compete for his attention or deflect his misplaced
rage from others on to me as shelter or means of escape. Do you know to
this day I still feel bad about being a shit to him? Those few mornings
I still replay in my own PST vivid memories, associated senses of
smell, sound and sight. The warm sun filled bedroom, the smells of bacon,
clanking of dishes breakfast being made. In the room with two posters
on fake wood paneled walls of dirt bikes I waited to deny him a si!
mple joy but in the end we both lost. Sometimes I would hear him in
the kitchen asking to "wake him up" I prepared as the familiar sounds,
his footsteps down the hallway "good morning sunshine" in hind sight it
was a genuine moment I denied us not knowing the few we would share,
shit. My sister Mary "big balls" Kate made it threw somehow and let me
tell you if she loves you it's all good, piss her off....well. MK is
beautiful, strong and a biker! Hell yeah, my sister's a biker babe,
black chromed out, leather jackets, chaps the whole works. She love's as
fierce as she defends, loyal and true I never would have survived
without her as I work harder to strengthen our relationship she's starting
her own family now married to a great good man. Truth is they both got
tired of her riding on the back of his bike. Giggle.
Standing here now again or dry land. Recently returning to a life
of trip fishing I hadn't been in 6 years a confidence has now at 34
finally falling over me. A family member spoke to me recently, her
comment caught me off guard "You are just discovering yourself and I feel
great things are going to happen for you." I've alway liked her, a
sometimes serious appearing demeanor betrayed with a relevant sense of humor,
a great laugh and smile and she's smart too.
Threw the summer spent aboard F/V Jerri Ann day fishing from the
boats departure at 3:30am and returning well after the same pm time slot
68 something days in a row Colin, Derek and yours truly wore every last
nerve out on each other. Screaming matches over the dumbest of stuff,
stereo song selection, who's gloves are who's, rent, drinking, sports
you name it but that's what family does and that's what we were. Still
are and always will be no matter how strained, tested or forgotten the
experiences we shared. The same could be said about my father who
despite the terrible I can't lose sight of the good and have chosen not
to. I believe strongly you don't have to be religious to forgive you
just have to be a bigger person or that which of one who feels that
carrying hate is tolling on ones self more than it's object deserving of
wrath. Never forgetting because it's what shapes and forms our morals and
ethics learning as I sometime read backwards as things not to do.
"Dubhead" was a cartoon of me, glasses the size of hula hoops on a
small head. They were impermeable to foreign launched missiles I
defended on doodle sheets and paper bag book covers good from evil in any
and all forms. Colin still recalling from time to time a "tool" I often
used to deflect jabs and barbs at my expense and looks acne prevalent
on most of my face, back and everyplace embarrassing you can think of.
But Damn handsome now suckers!
fruition is barring it's head in my world, efforts, labor sweat and
tears rewarding prize now sits in my hands with which mine to form. To
carve a life and family out of joining the ones I made along the way.
As well as get my bike it's been way too long!
So I was reading back threw some of my stories and noticed the
glaring errors in spelling and sometimes grammar. I once argued to no
avail to a teacher these things will become known as my "style" of writing.
Treating those that read what I write to what my eyes read when I
read. What? Dyslexia is a funny thing, sometimes other times very
frustrated confined to a life time of not believing what I've read. Yup I'm a
guy that doesn't read the directions first not often because I'm
better than them just sometime because I'm better off without them. The
saying goes "Welcome to my world" I mean you no harm if you have to
reread a sentence or two again to figure out what I meant. If you find
yourself running out of breathe running along a sentence please pause where
the comma should be. Take a break at a missed period, over time
you'll get threw it like I do when reading regular old anything. Kind of
like looking threw rain drops on your windshield or spots on glasses.
And mine were thick. Colin and I spent most of Jr. high cartooning
that very fact. "Dubhead" as a nick name was developed on doodled
paper, book covers and anything else our misplaced frustration could find
an outlet. At this time my family life was turning shitty beyond
belief. The disease my father suffers in combination with PST, reliving a
most horrific event in "Nam" the untold thoughts and stories witnessed
as a Navy SEAL battle him still to this day. Two tours, two purple
hearts, he's been shot twice, dead man floated a canal for 9 hrs too deep
into the "hot" zone. Had boats blown up on him, holes shot threw them
and on board crew members brutally killed. That's just what happened to
him I sometimes wonder the damage the strongest man I have ever known
reaped. Apparently there was a wanted poster posted by the NVC a
bounty on "Crazy Man"...guess who.
I had my own wanted sign "father" but as much as he tried, he
really did I know but the alcohol let him never reach the level of what my
sister mother or I needed. Judz, my mom did however find ways to
surround my sister and I with many different good people who all had their
own special offerings and then there was the ocean. I lost touch with
Jim and held great hate towards him the horrors lived in a verbally
abusive home, walking on egg shells not wanting to set him off. Sometimes
doing it just to compete for his attention or deflect his misplaced
rage from others on to me as shelter or means of escape. Do you know to
this day I still feel bad about being a shit to him? Those few mornings
I still replay in my own PST vivid memories, associated senses of
smell, sound and sight. The warm sun filled bedroom, the smells of bacon,
clanking of dishes breakfast being made. In the room with two posters
on fake wood paneled walls of dirt bikes I waited to deny him a si!
mple joy but in the end we both lost. Sometimes I would hear him in
the kitchen asking to "wake him up" I prepared as the familiar sounds,
his footsteps down the hallway "good morning sunshine" in hind sight it
was a genuine moment I denied us not knowing the few we would share,
shit. My sister Mary "big balls" Kate made it threw somehow and let me
tell you if she loves you it's all good, piss her off....well. MK is
beautiful, strong and a biker! Hell yeah, my sister's a biker babe,
black chromed out, leather jackets, chaps the whole works. She love's as
fierce as she defends, loyal and true I never would have survived
without her as I work harder to strengthen our relationship she's starting
her own family now married to a great good man. Truth is they both got
tired of her riding on the back of his bike. Giggle.
Standing here now again or dry land. Recently returning to a life
of trip fishing I hadn't been in 6 years a confidence has now at 34
finally falling over me. A family member spoke to me recently, her
comment caught me off guard "You are just discovering yourself and I feel
great things are going to happen for you." I've alway liked her, a
sometimes serious appearing demeanor betrayed with a relevant sense of humor,
a great laugh and smile and she's smart too.
Threw the summer spent aboard F/V Jerri Ann day fishing from the
boats departure at 3:30am and returning well after the same pm time slot
68 something days in a row Colin, Derek and yours truly wore every last
nerve out on each other. Screaming matches over the dumbest of stuff,
stereo song selection, who's gloves are who's, rent, drinking, sports
you name it but that's what family does and that's what we were. Still
are and always will be no matter how strained, tested or forgotten the
experiences we shared. The same could be said about my father who
despite the terrible I can't lose sight of the good and have chosen not
to. I believe strongly you don't have to be religious to forgive you
just have to be a bigger person or that which of one who feels that
carrying hate is tolling on ones self more than it's object deserving of
wrath. Never forgetting because it's what shapes and forms our morals and
ethics learning as I sometime read backwards as things not to do.
"Dubhead" was a cartoon of me, glasses the size of hula hoops on a
small head. They were impermeable to foreign launched missiles I
defended on doodle sheets and paper bag book covers good from evil in any
and all forms. Colin still recalling from time to time a "tool" I often
used to deflect jabs and barbs at my expense and looks acne prevalent
on most of my face, back and everyplace embarrassing you can think of.
But Damn handsome now suckers!
fruition is barring it's head in my world, efforts, labor sweat and
tears rewarding prize now sits in my hands with which mine to form. To
carve a life and family out of joining the ones I made along the way.
As well as get my bike it's been way too long!