Backward Rain

  May 3, 2003

 

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Saturday - May 3, 2003

Barry

Barry, my older brother, was the father figure in my life. Like Ward Cleaver without the suit, he was always around to give advice and shake the silliness out of me. My parents had lost interest in parenting by the time I entered my teens. I donít say that with a tear in my eye or from the perspective of a victim. At the time I didnít mind at all.

My mom passed away in 1991 and my father is still living in the Coronado house. Carmen, his live-in care giver, watches over him 24 hours a day. Heís in poor health and practically deaf so when I visit, Carmen does all the talking.

Barry is also responsible for my dadís comfortable life style. He manages my dadís accounts, makes sure the bills are paid and is now covering the huge debts that exceed my dadís retirement income. Dad is beyond understanding the details of how his lifestyle is maintained but Barry continues with only the gratitude of my sister and me.

_________________


Yesterday before today's rain

Being a world class nerd, I spent a lot of time this week trying to get a wireless network to work in the house. Considering the size of our house itís kind of silly but I just canít help myself. In true nerd fashion I have six computers with two running 24 hrs a day monitoring my weather station and taking hourly pictures of Mount Cuyamaca. I did manage to get the network up and running though itís marginal in a lot of ways. Except for Catherineís laptop and my desktop, the others computers are legacy devices with older configurations. The connections arenít consistent and Iím still fine tuning the settings and positioning of the network transceivers. Itís another hobby. If not for my interest in computers Iím sure Iíd be into model railroading or  ham radio.

 

THEN

February 22, 1967 Ė Wednesday

Today is Washington's birthday and I've been home all day.  As for doing anything special, the only thing I've done is take a walk down to the beach.  Things are really grim in Coronado on a vacation.  There's  not a thing to do.

A long time ago I said Bill was the only friend I didn't like. Now he's the only friend I do like.  Out of all my friends, he's the only one that's halfway normal. I didn't like him at first because he acted like such a phony but after I got to know him I've found he's really sincere.

When I talk with Pat I have to be very careful.  He has a big inferiority complex so he's always trying to build himself up by correcting other people. Kirk is just the opposite. He talks and talks about anything whether it's stupid or not and he can't stand  to listen.

Although Bill and I don't have much in common we can talk to each other and be truthful without having to worry.

February 26, 1967 - Sunday

Something's been going on between mother and father for the past few weeks but today is the first time I've noticed anything.  I got suspicious this morning when mother said she was planning a trip back East to visit grandmother.  This didn't impress me much until tonight I heard them talking in the kitchen.  I didn't understand what they were saying but they seemed to be just getting over a argument. Both of them are always drinking and screaming at each other and fights happen almost daily.  Just a little while ago mother came in and dramatically said everything was all right and the worst was over. I didn't have the faintest idea of what she was talking about.  I may never find out what was going on.

I've noticed that for the past few months my feelings on Sunday nights have changed a great deal.  It used to be that every time Sunday night came around I would go into a real depression.  This is actually normal for most people because nobody likes the prospect of a whole work week ahead of them.. The police say that more suicides are committed on Sunday night than any other night of the week.

Anyway, now when Sunday comes around it doesn't make a bit of difference to me. I'm almost happy that the weekend is over.

 

 

 

 

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