Wednesday, March 26, 2008

Bang! Bang!

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Thursday, March 20, 2008

Looking Back

Sherri posted today about moving. The house they're moving out of has been her home longer than at any other time in her life. It got me thinking back to when we moved from the only home I had ever known for our family. I posted a comment on her blog, but I'm going to post and expand on it here as well.

Six months after I was born my parents bought a house in Redwood City. Thirty miles south of San Francisco where up until then they had been renting an apartment in the city. We lived in that house, for better or worse, from 1971 until 1992, or so, when the parents could stand the next door asshole, er, neighbor no more. Even after having lived in Phoenix for a year by myself in 89-90 it was still heart wrenching to have to leave. The new house is nice, but it's not the old house.

Towards the end the parents and my brother had already moved out and into the new house and I was living there by myself while we renovated it for sale. I was attending community college at the time and it provided me with a quiet place to study. Most of the time. While most of the work done was done by contractors we did do quite a bit ourselves. Why oh why didn't we make some of those improvements for ourselves? Yeesh. Anyway when we left that house, despite it's little idiosyncrasies, it was a nice little house. My house. Clean and rejuvenated.

While I was there alone the house was mostly empty. Our stuff had either been moved to the new house or been disposed of. My room was the only really furnished room. I went through a lot of the same feelings I think Sherri is going through right now. I wandered around looking at the empty rooms remembering all the things that had happened there. Good and bad. Happy and sad.

  • Mom and dads bed was huge. Perfect for snuggling with them in it as a kid. Crawling under the covers. Playing war. Jumping on. Heh. The bed on which we played our very first Atari games. Asteroids and Combat.

  • My brother and I shared a room when we were younger and when he was old enough for a regular bed we got bunk beds. Of course I was on top. One night after I'm sure much antagonizing I was pulled off the top bunk by my younger brother. Boom! It seemed like such a long way to fall at the time, but it happened so fast.

  • The day Dad's dad died and mom told me the news. Not really completely understanding, but knowing that something big and terrible and irreversible had happened and my sobbing that went with it.

  • Fourth of July on the front porch watching fireworks with grandma and grandpa and grandma's Lemon meringue pie. All the oohs and aahs. In the same vein I remember waiting for grandma and grandpa to show up early on Christmas morning so we could get down to business and get those toys into active service. Scrambled eggs, bacon and orange juice to follow afterwards.

  • Getting caught coming home drunk after sneaking out and into the neighbors house while they were out of town and then proceeding to drink their bottle of rum. Stumbling to the bathroom. Falling down in my brothers room. And all of the wonderful things that go along with that at the tender age of fourteen or fifteen. Oi.

  • Building cool things with Legos and playing with my creations in the back yard. Living out my science fiction fantasies using the tools I had.

  • The day grandma died and hugging grandpa in our kitchen and sobbing into his chest as he held me tight as we shared our grief.

  • We had a few trees in our yards and most were great for climbing so I did.

  • Living out my own private Six Million Dollar man stories in both the front and back yards. Just me, my Steve Austin action figure with kung-fu chop arm, lazer arm and gas-mask arm as well as all the accessories I constructed for him out of paper clips and string. Taking him in and out of the storage case grandpa built for him.

  • Playing out in the dirt in the backyard with Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars. Ramps and caves and roads galore. Our own Star Wars stories with our Star Wars toys. The dirt patch that later became Lake Mud our own private mud hole.

  • The year our family from SoCal came to spend Christmas with us and all the toys and people that went along with that. So many people. So many gifts. Stuff stacked not just around the tree, but around the baby grand piano. Piano lessons from Mom that I never followed through with. That lasted maybe two weeks, but I still remember sitting down on the bench in front of that piano with mom. Summer vacations sitting at home watching PBS programming all morning long with the little brother.

It was neat thinking we'd be in a nice "new" bigger house. It was great knowing that we wouldn't have to deal with our neighbor Vic the Dick anymore. It was sad to think that some strangers were going to be wandering around naked, yes naked, in the house I grew up in. The only house I'd known my entire life. My house.

I still miss my house. Every time I drive by there's a twinge. There are lots of memories in that house of all the things that happened there and of the people that passed through there over the years.

There was never a better one.


Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Roman Candle Lit

From last October. Rocket was lit, but not yet off the pad. Good shit.

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Thursday, March 06, 2008

Over The edge

No Worries...
Originally uploaded by fritz_da_kat

Over the edge
Originally uploaded by ¤ AmiBe ¤

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