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My Dad

For those of you have known me for a long period of time, you know that I've had a lot of potential dads. My biological father divorced my mom when I was 5. I knew him very little because he was stationed away from me for some period of time until the divorce and even after, when he was out of the military, I saw him only one time until I was 8.  He lived 2 miles away from me from me during this time of 5 to 8. I didnt talk to him until I was 18 and reached out to him to give him my senior pic. He had tried to contact me at 16 but I was not having any of it at the time. When he was asked to give me up a when my 1st stepfather wanted to adopt me at 8. He did. My 1st stepfather came in the picture when I was 6. He ended up molesting me from 6 to 14 when he was divorced. My 2nd stepfather was a good man. He raised me from 16 til I was around 30. I cant be exact sure when he was divorced, but 30 is close because it was before my Grandma Betty passed away. I have talked to him maybe t...
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COVID-19 and America

April 29, day something of, I'm too lazy to count the days I've been locked up, 2020.  Been here in quarantine for almost two months and finally inspired to write something...anything.  So what inspires me to finally write on day something of, again I'm too lazy, living thru a pandemic? Something to tell my great grand-kids about.  America.   Let me start with this premise: I have been following the Coronavirus since it was first reported in November, 2019. I have listened only to scientists. No politician or political viewpoint is responsible for the following thots. With that in mind, here is my take on how we, as Americans, have responded to COVID-19 thus far.  For me, America is not only home. It is also the nation I chose to serve, under the principles of our forefathers. When I say I'm an American today, I am proud of being one. I'm blessed to be in a nation that has pulled together to combat what might have been a once in a century natural d...
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Why I'm Scared for America

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My Army days were in the mid-90s from 1993 to 1997.  Back then, I didn’t care whether my battle buddy was Republican or Democrat, conservative or liberal.  I bet the soldiers out there still don’t. Why in the world would we be so divided because of politics?  What has happened to America? We fight among ourselves and in some instances while the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.  I feel like so much of the world is trying to divide us when we agree on many things. Think about it. What issues do you really have with your friends?  Are they issues you could meet in the middle on? I bet there are more than any of us think. Yet politicians and the mass media seem to tell us otherwise.  Don’t you have Republican friends that you agree with? Democrat friends that you agree with? On something?  I became a Democrat when I was in college at a small liberal arts school in southwest Oklahoma.  I had plans to become a Republican because I w...
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That Dang Woman...

Now I have a disclaimer before I start this. My wife is my everything.   She’s the best thing that ever happened to me and I love her more than I love my luggage. She’ll get it or you might, think Steel Magnolias; but sometimes, that woman drives me friggin crazy. For instance, I will readily admit that I’m a backseat driver.   I want to scream at you every time you let that dumb ass in the left lane merge in front of you at the merge cones.   But then I remember my beloved wife and her driving skills and courtesies, and I think you’re not so bad.   I think God put her on this earth to test my patience riding shotgun.   Never in my life have I ever seen someone wait so long to get in the lane she needs to be in to exit the highway.   She will stay in that middle line riding the driver in front of her ass until she has at least 4 cars on her left that she needs to cut off or merge into.   Drives me friggin crazy. But then there’s the fast lane...
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Letting Go...

I’m on a new journey.   I believe that in my heart and soul.   I am starting to believe in my own thoughts and values.   In my own sense of self-worth.   I believe that I can be happy with how I perceive myself, not how I think the world does.   It’s liberating. I’m learning to appreciate that everyone has their own journey.   That I have no control over other people and what they want in life.   That it’s ok for their path not to continue with my own.   That sometimes people are in your journey for a while and then they’re gone and that’s ok because some stay on your path and that makes all the difference in the world   I’m trying to let go of my rage that caused me to hit a poor woman in the face last year.   That people, including myself, make mistakes and that’s ok.   I am trying to think before I speak. To not make knee-jerk reactions to my emotions. Again, I’m trying. Jen and I just decided to buy a commuter crossover fo...
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And I'd Like to Thank the Academy...

As I sit here in my bed with my cat trying to get over a sinus infection, I find myself being very appreciative this morning.   For instance, I am appreciative that Katniss, my older cat, did not claw my skin off when Dawg, the kitten we just got for my youngest, jumped up on the bed at the same time as she was on the bed.   To say Katniss does not care for Dawg (my son named her) is seriously so understated that I wish Katniss could talk so she could let her rage out.   She hates, despises, deplores, and plots the death of Dawg every day.   Of that, I am certain. If you aren’t one of the folks who’ve been privy to my 6-month probation for assault and battery, well here is the jest of it.   Last April, the day before our cruise for our friend’s wedding renewal, I walked into a tanning establishment here in OKC and punched the manager in the nose.   My reason, she was being mean to the elderly lady in front of me and, gasp, wouldn’t honor my 7-days of ...
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Right and Wrong According to Betty Spencer...

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I was raised by a grandmother who was a Pentecostal Evangelist in the 1970's.  Now mind you, a woman evangelist in the 70's was a rarity.  She was a pioneer in her time and could bring the rafters down with her fiery fire and brimstone sermons.  Her voice was a gift of God and there's no one to this day who can come close to her rendition of "I Want to Stroll Over Heaven with You."  I stayed with her just about every day while my mom was working.  She adored me and I her.  To this day, there is  no one who can compare to her in my eyes. Grandma Betty spent her mornings in her room crying out to God to save her family and to protect her precious son Stephen who was taken away from her in a tragic car accident at the age of 16.  Her Bible sat right beside her on her end table at the edge of her recliner.  It was worn and covered in red, blue, and black ink marks on her favorite passages. In the back she had handwritten a letter to God beggi...
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