Easter (not sure what year). I’m in the middle & my younger sisters are on either side of me. We’re in the nearly identical outfits our mother dressed us in..why she dressed us like that (when we’re not triplets) is a mystery to me even now. And we’re sitting on the daybed in my aunt’s basement.
“So what’re you gonna do?” I asked.
“What can I do,” Melissa said, “George won’t live in a house with cats & I have seven cats.”
“Will you at least consider the Mormon religion?” My father said. “Glenn Beck said-.
“Yeah, I KNOW, Glenn Beck said he drank heavily at one time in his life and he credits his ‘Mormon faith’ with helping him stop & get back on track. But that doesn’t mean everyone who has a drinking problem must join the Church of Mormon.”
“And it aggravates me,” I said at the 12 step meeting, “to no end that I’ve been sober over three years and my father, who knows zero about recovery, thinks I should become a Mormon because Glenn Beck had a drinking problem and happens to be a Mormon.”
My father’s not a monster. My mother, holy shit, she is a monster. I used to blame my father for not protecting me & my sisters from her. I called him “useless man”.
But divorce is a thing. My father could’ve filed divorce papers and taken his freedom. He didn’t. He STAYED. Because she’s the woman he married (for better or worse); because my sisters and I needed both parents, not just one bat crap crazy parent. And I don’t give my father enough credit. I don’t appreciate him enough, or rather I haven’t appreciated him enough. But I’m not going to make that mistake anymore.
He lived a double life, visiting gay clubs while his wife was at home with their kid, having profiles in gay hook-up sites that didn’t mention the fact he was married to a woman. So deep in a closet of his own making, with such self-loathing. LGBT Pride Weekend rolled around & the club was packed…brace men and women who lived their truth out in the open, but this cowardly little bitch showed up to mow them down in a hail of bullets. He should’ve put a bullet where it really belonged (in his own head).
So according to the New York Daily News, the Orlando shooter had a “secret gay life”, having visited the club he shot up before, having been on “gay hook-up sites”. Just proves what I’ve been saying forever…THE THINGS WE DON’T LIKE IN OTHERS ARE THE THINGS WE DON’T LIKE IN OURSELVES.
I mean why else would I have created a Facebook account, right? A friend of mine (she’s my age, we both write) suggested I create a Facebook page to get my writing out there. I said I don’t Facebook…she said it’s not so bad, you don’t have to accept friend requests from thirsty guys who send unsolicited dick pics. I broke down & created an account on Thursday (even though Facebook has the audacity to demand my surname…a thing very few on the internet know) and set up an account and a page where I post my writing. I sofriendly me people I know here in Brooklyn & thought I was doing pretty good. Until yesterday when Facebook locked me out of my account and said (in an email) that I have to send them a picture of my government ID (drivers license). I did it & I’m waiting for them to “review the ID” BUT I’m annoyed for a couple reasons…I mean, does Facebook really think anyone wants to be me (being me comes with an overbearing mother & a stack of past-due bills) so bad they’d impersonate me on a social media site? Also, as an Italian-American any time someone asks to see my “government ID” I get the feeling it won’t end well. Also, who does Facebook think they are, asking for ID…did they become a government agency and I don’t know about it? Anyway, if they ever permit me to log into my own account again, I have to decide if it’s worth keeping.
Because I’m tired of talking about Brock Turner…I don’t want to hear how he got his prison term reduced, I just wanna put my music on & retire from the real world.
OK, I’m going to tell Brock Turner, the two young men from Steubenville, Ohio, and others like them what nobody else ever told them about being a real man, and it’s this
Being a real man means you never EVER have sex with the underage, the intoxicated, the unconscious, the mentally challenged/compromised, and/or the incapacitated, those over whom you have real or positional power (your subordinate at work, your student, your housekeeper).