WALKING IT OUT

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Cowboys, Jocks, & Baggy Jeans

~ Life Lessons from Dad ~ Part 1

My dad was "old" but no, really, everyone thought my dad was old too. He was 35 the year I was born, and although that isn't really old - it felt older when he had three older children who were MUCH older than me in relationship. :) Of course, as I approach the age I know it's not the age but the personality of someone who makes them seem old to a child. My dad had lived hard, played hard and sometimes prayed hard. 

I ran to his love from an early age and our relationship was a healthy one with far more of me talking than him = as it should be with a wise listener and a smaller child!!

So, we built stuff, broke stuff: I mean "worked on it" and he taught me about farms, the way to speak to horses (he loved the essence of training them without hurting them), taught me to shot at tin cans, and we often were together when it was time to kill a chicken for dinner or "dress" an animal that needed to be frozen for the winter. 

OK. I know I lost some of you but it was that kind of lifestyle when we were younger and in the region.

When we moved to the "big city" of Tampa and our talks changed as I began to explore my new social world.  I was saved (a spiritual experience with Christ) after we moved there and I was getting older. Funny how my dad and I never had A talk but we shared moments when my dad "shared revelations about boys". My dad revealed things in a very Southern and cryptic way. Why do people from the South talk in a language that few understand? I can only think it is both a conversation and constant test which coincide!  

BAGGY PANTS

Dad asked me once if the boys in my class wore baggy pants and were forced to put their hands in their pockets to hold them up. Well, this was the late 80's.... and the answer was going to be yes! 

As my dad worked that day in his shop he explained that I should never trust a boy who keeps his hands in his pockets and wears baggy pants. Followed with, "this ain't about what they look like, or what type of pants they are wearing but about their manners girl!" 
 -- My "ah ha" moment was 6 years later before I understood what in the tar hill he was talking about.  HE WAS RIGHT. 

CROSSING THE GANG LINE

In middle school we may not have lived directly in gang cross fire, but we sure were bused to the middle of a war. (Another blog there entirely.) This area was not new to gang violence and my class had been on the local TV stations for years over the increased gang war mounting violence within the public school system. My first raid for drugs on campus was in 6th grade, they arrested 7 students. The mob riots started in 7th grade and by 8th grade I had that most of my class had a lethal weapon on their person or in their locker.  It was a place that made my parents nervous, but the school system and their situation gave them no other choice but public school. 

I know my dad was always worried. He was insistent that I keep my nose in a book and my head in music and to make friends with the drummers in band. (So much wisdom about the culture of our schools even in that statement.) Drummers were easy to make friends with since I had learned by then how to dabble with many instruments and was good with a beat. They also stuck up for each other more than most. The drum line made peace with each other. 

The important reminder he gave me once or twice a week was the importance of anonymity when & if I needed to snitch for my own safety. (The same kids who rode my bus were frequently involved in trouble.) I thought it was strange that my dad was so worried about me BEING the narc but always asking me to tell on kids who were about to cause trouble. It seemed confusing to this 8th grader when given no explanation.  

When you are an unwilling witness to death (as I would be far too close a few times that year) you need to tell without getting dead yourself.

Yet, throughout my life when I have ignored this advice it has come back to bite my in the -ahem-.  

continued.....

(see part 2)

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