Rev. Joe Goes to The Big House.

My folks would never have been in the running for the Ward and June Cleaver Parenting Award.  The reason they had children, let alone 5, is unclear to me.  It seemed then and seems now that they felt as long as we were fed, clothed, and a roof was over our head they had fulfilled their parental duties.  They were more involved with the youngest two.

For reasons I will not go into here, I was estranged from my father since I was 13. What few interactions we had were never pleasant, and occasionally they were violent.   Continue reading “Rev. Joe Goes to The Big House.”

A Wino’s Wisdom

I stayed in my 3rd floor castle for several months.  Then Tom, an old high school running mate, convinced me that I needed to move into an apartment with him and two other guys.  Well that rock along nicely, for a while.  My running mate left early in the lease, and the other two guys failed to tell me that they were not renewing the lease until the last minute.  Wino

This left me without a place to stay.  I spent 2 or 3 nights sleeping in my car before I managed to locate and rent an apartment.  I needed one that I could afford by myself.  Now remember this is 1971.  I was making a whopping $2.60 an hour which was a dollar more than minimum wage, and I took all the overtime I could get.  I really did not have the resources to rent a penthouse abode.  Continue reading “A Wino’s Wisdom”

Meatballs and Impounds

Fred was skinny, but then it was the early 70s and everyone was still skinny.  He had long, stringy, black hair that he parted on one side.  Add in some black horn rimmed glasses, well worn jeans and omnipresent jean jacket and you have a reasonable facsimile of Fred.  He came from a fairly well-to-do family, but he was definitely in full blown want-a-be hippie mode. We all were, at least in the crowd with which I ran.

I had just spent a year at the University of Rhode Island, mostly to avoid the Vietnam era draft.  Continue reading “Meatballs and Impounds”