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Elspode 02-27-2005 12:09 AM

Why Should I Care?
 
My father was a slut. Even when I was seven or eight years old, it was pretty clear to me that he wasn't going to be the guy who drove me to baseball, taught me about girls or made sure that my injuries got healed. No, it was inevitable that he was to be the guy against whom all "normal" sorts of familial infrastructure was to be measured...with him on the negative side of the scale.

How I didn't end up a flaming homosexual was always a subject of puzzlement to both my mother and myself. I was raised by *extremely* strong willed women...women who could either purr and coo to bring a man to them, or shuck the sonofabitch and do the oil change themselves. Women who could wither a man just by dint of their desireability and self-assurance.

My father, being led by his dick, was always "out of town" during my youth. Every event of significance was attended either by my mother or my grandmother. If it was my mother, she was almost certainly hanging on the bare edge of her capacity. If it was my grandmother, she was probably schnockered, and working up a whole litany of criticism for my mother for the lack of being there.

In retrospect, having earned a bit of experience, which allows me some adult perspective, I'm pretty sure that my dad was out having his helmet polished most of the time. It was the Sixties, and he strove to fit the archetype of the besuited and closely coiffed young apprentice, even if the price of his suits meant that Mom and I went without food or lights for a few days.

He was a handsome bastard...short, stocky, and well-muscled, a devotee of Jack LaLanne. I have memories of female impersonators hanging around the house...they were my mother's best friends. Her best girlfriends. The only reason they were there at all was because of my father. They wanted him at first, but later, having met my mother, became entangled in the reality that was the Chambers household.

My father flitted easily from drag bar to bowling alley to the corner hoodlum drugstore to the fire department to the checkout line at the all-night grocery...and never once showed that he was anything but in control. It was only thirty years later that I was able to understand that Chuckles was bisexual. It was only because of the memory of the sheer loving humanity of all those fading transvestites that I was able to understand what pure acceptance meant. It is only because I was surrounded by people who had been rejected by "proper" society that I was able to grasp that love had nothing to do with parentage, and everything to do with who was there when the chips were down.

We were too poor for babysitters most of the time, and too socially isolated for real family friends to watch me. Because of this, I was always brought in tow as my folks traversed the Kansas City nightlife, doing whatever young adults do in search of entertainment, amusement, opportunity. I remember hanging out at "the drug store", a remnant of Kansas City's mob days...a place where the hopeful Goodfellas bought their tobacco and scandal sheets, drank coffee, scored junk, and waited for an opportunity to be somebody. I remember being given sodas at the counter, and reading scandal sheets when they were really, really vile...two headed babies, hermaphrodites and graphic murder scenes in black and white splashed across the front pages. I remember falling asleep in the back seat of a borrowed car while my drunken father asked my mom if he could "hit her in her box", and wondering just why it was that my mom had to drive home, anyway.

My parents came squarely out of the last remnants of KC Jazz Age turmoil. My mother's best friend was to eventually inherit Milton's, the absolute last edifice of KC's true jazz heritage. Milton Morris was the first guy to book Bill Basie, Charle Parker, endless others, into the Kansas City bar scene. Milton's first storefront was on Vine Street, long before 'Kansas City' entreated us to "stand on the corner at 12th Street and Vine." Before they died, each of these legends would come through KC, do their gigs, and end up at Milton's at 32nd and Main in KC, and chat up the old fucker. And sometimes...they would play. At the very least, somewhere in a suburb of KC, there is the most amazingly unexploited collection of jazz vinyl in the entire country, right now.

Milton was my "Aunt" Hazel's blood uncle, and she nursed him through to his last breath - each sickening, flaccid, whoreborne, twenty dollar blow-job, eighty-year-old, one-leg-cut-off-by-a-cable-car-when-he-was-a-kid remaining day of the son of a bitch's life. It was into this "marijuana could get you fifty, glossy porn 3 x 5's gets you life" world that I was pulled for want of a better place for me to be most Friday nights. It was drag queens who brought me coloring books and toys when I broke my leg two days after my seventh birthday. It was flaming queers who dried my mothers' tears when my father failed to show up three days after he was due. I walked up the stairs to their $40-a-month flops that are now trendy Midtown lofts when I was five or six years old. I asked my mother unanswerable questions about why men would want to be women.

It was my domineering grandmother (whom I kicked in the ass one day when I was nine because she badmouthed my worthless father when he called to say he couldn't pick me up one weekend) who laid it all out for the man I was to become. She looked me square in the eye, and called me an "ungrateful bastard"...ungrateful, because I lived with her, my mom and my grandfather, and apparently didn't grasp that my father was a waste of space. A bastard, because...that's what I truly was. I still have the forged Tijuana wedding license that shows my parents' anniversary to be two months prior to my birth...even though I know it to be a fabrication.

My father is pushing 70 now. My mother died 13 years ago. They were divorced when I was 10, and no one will ever know whether or not they were the better for it. My mother married a copier repairman who proved to be a capable motorhead and an abusive asshole with a penchant for affairs...women who would call at 3:00 in the morning, demanding to speak to him. I learned things from him...how to use a wrench, the fact that malfunctioning doesn't equal broken...but mostly, he was a child molester - the man responsible for screwing up my half sister.

I 've just spent a couple of hours trying to run my father, Charles Chambers, down on the Internet. His poverty keeps him moving now, makes him hard to find. Why do I want to contact him? That's easy.

I want to tell him that I'm better than he is. I want him to know that I have fought the battles that he ran from, and I am a better man for it all.

Is that wrong?

Brett's Honey 02-27-2005 12:21 AM

No....that's not wrong.....

BigV 02-27-2005 01:04 AM

In a word,
 
Quote:

Originally Posted by Elspode
My father was a slut.
--snip--
I want to tell him that I'm better than he is. I want him to know that I have fought the battles that he ran from, and I am a better man for it all.

Is that wrong?

No.

In a few more, hell, no.

Having been terribly let down by your father, your motives sure seem to include a strong desire to vent your bitterness. That's understandable and probably healthy, but of course, I'm no analyst.

But as a father myself, I can think of nothing that I would rather hear from my son, than that he has become a better man than I. Speaking from my own perspective, that is my ultimate goal for my kids. I have a different balance of virtues and faults compared to your experience, but I can hardly ignore the breadth and depth of my mistakes and failures. As as I grow older, and my son grows older, there are more faults, and more time to reflect upon them. To hear of success in spite of all those errors would bring joy to my heart.

I am willing to speculate that you don't have that as your goal for seeking him and speaking to him. I would likewise be willing to speculate that your father would greet this news with a mixed reaction--soothed by your success and stung by your criticism of his faults.

But I don't think you're wrong to want to tell him.

Elspode 02-27-2005 01:17 AM

Mostly, I want to let him know that the end product of his ejaculation has lived long enough to have some perspective on what might have made him dip his wick in the first place.

The rest is all window dressing, right?

jaguar 02-27-2005 04:53 AM

wow. no.

richlevy 02-27-2005 08:47 AM

No, not at all.

Have you tried http://www.ussearch.com? I used these guys to find someone with just a first name and date of birth and they delivered results.

OnyxCougar 02-27-2005 10:04 AM

No, you're not wrong.

As far as finding him...
Are you sure he's still alive?
If you have his social security number, it will be easy (not cheap but easy) to find him.
If he's dead it's cheap and easy to find him with the SSN.

Good luck with your search. If I can help, let me know.

Clodfobble 02-27-2005 10:14 AM

I understand your efforts to find him, Patrick, but I have to admit I suspect it won't be as cathartic as you hope if you ever do find him.

How do you plan to contact him if you do? Perhaps in written form you might get some sort of emotional release... but if you actually talk to him in person or on the phone, you will forever be replaying the conversation in your head and the little things that you wanted to be said differently. Also, with writing, there's a chance he won't respond, which may be the best thing for your heart anyway.

I sometimes have the desire to contact my ex-stepfather, and tell him exactly what I thought of him from day one, and show him that despite his abuse, and comically childish behavior (ever seen a grown man throw a flailing temper tantrum on the floor?,) and all his horrific failures as a parent and certainly as a role model, I have somehow managed to rise above his influence and, as you said, use him purely as an example of what not to be. Ironically, I am most definitely a better stepmother because of him.

But then I realize there's no way to do that cleanly, without re-introducing him into my life in some fashion. Even if I tried to just write it down and mail it with no return address, it would rekindle his desire to find me--to apologize, to tell me off, it doesn't matter, it's all something I don't want. I'd rather he just stay gone. Perhaps your father is old enough that you aren't worried about that, but consider if you really want to give this man the satisfaction of knowing how you turned out.

Paleobabe 02-27-2005 10:17 AM

No.

That was beautifully written by the way.

Beestie 02-27-2005 10:23 AM

Its not wrong, Els but I wouldn't bother giving the piece of shit the satisfaction of knowing that at least one thing he did turned out right even if he had nothing to do with it.

I wouldn't give him the satisfaction. But, then again, that's the kind of asshole I am.

Elspode 02-27-2005 10:43 AM

I seem to end up hearing from him once per decade or so, on average. After he and my mom got divorced, he headed for California in the late 60's, and has made and lost at least three fortunes that I know of. The last address I had for him (and this is no shit) had him living in a camper down by the Sacramento River. I'm pretty sure he's still in Redding, CA somewhere.

If and when I see him again, I seriously doubt I'll tell him all of what I poured out in my initial post. It would be me making myself feel better by hurting him. I'm not really wired that way. Just one more thing that I think makes me a better man than he ever could have been.

wolf 02-27-2005 11:43 AM

I hope that you get what you want out of this.

Troubleshooter 02-27-2005 12:08 PM

Be careful of needing a specific outcome from this. Things may not go as you expect or want.

External validation isn't always a good thing.

You've proven yourself as a person many times over by all accounts. Don't let that hinge on anyone else's (clearly screwed up) standards.

xoxoxoBruce 02-27-2005 03:04 PM

Although what you’ve written here should suffice as a cathartic you could write it all down, attach some pictures and put the envelope away “just in case”.
That said, stay the hell away from him you dumb bastard.
Given his age and history he’s, if alive, not in good physical or financial health. You being who and what you are, would just drag the reprobate home with you, in a rush of misplaced empathy, placing a huge strain on you and yours.
Let lying dogs sleep. :eyebrow:

richlevy 02-27-2005 03:31 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by OnyxCougar
If you have his social security number, it will be easy (not cheap but easy) to find him.

In most cases, with an SSN you can get a current address for less than $100 if the person isn't homeless. You can probably get the same results with just a name and a date of birth, but you will have to eliminate false positives.

Catwoman 02-28-2005 10:25 AM

Well the 'product of his ejaculation' produces exemplary prose. Use the experience for a novel or film script. You're not wrong, but if you find him be willing to understand, not angry, so he doesn't get scared and immediately put up barriers. Hope you find what you're looking for E.

mrnoodle 02-28-2005 11:39 AM

Elspode, you are a fantastic writer.

My extended family has several similar examples of human detritus, and with very few exceptions, all attempts at contacting them proved depressing, disappointing, and fruitless. On the other hand, the hurt 6-year-old in you needs to bawl him out for being such a shitty dad and destroying your faith in him. I don't know if you'll feel any better if you do it, though.

Scenario 2 - You might exorcise some demons by responding to him with love that you don't actually feel. Just kind of be there for him in whatever time he's got left, if he'll allow it. He already knows he's worthless, calling him on it might just make him defensive and you feel worse. Prove you're better by being the family man he never was.

Scenario 3 - Put the pain in the back of your consciousness and try to forget he ever existed.

I can't even imagine trying to make that choice. Whatever you decide, I hope you get peace from it.

We found one of my great-uncles had died in a refrigerator box under a railway bridge, having been knocked in the head by another bum for whatever the hell he was carrying in his pocket - we really didn't want to know. This same guy had done a brief tour with a local "donkey show" (again, you don't want to know), tried to kill my grandpa with a knife when he wouldn't buy him booze, and generally exhibited himself with restraint and civility :P He's buried in the same row as the rest of his family, but every time we go to the churchyard, about twice a year, we find his grave has sunk about 8 inches. Only his, and every single time. We've probably used 30 yards of dirt filling it in over the years. I'm scared to step on it, for fear I'll break through and fall straight into hell. No matter how much people tried, he just wouldn't accept help or love.


I'll be thinking about this stuff all day....again, great writing (for all the cold comfort that is).

Elspode 02-28-2005 11:46 AM

Sometimes, when left to my own devices, and with a little lubrication of the neurons, these things sort of leap out and smack me in the face. I suppose it is a sign that I don't actually *cope* well with such matters, but it is definite proof that I *suppress* it well on most days.

As with everything, I just toss it all into a pot full of big words and stir until something flows out. At least when I'm feeling sorry for myself, I have a good place and good people to share it with.

As always, I appreciate each and every one of you, and the input and critiques you offer, both of my reality and my written expressions thereof.

lookout123 02-28-2005 11:56 AM

hey Els - i'm a little late coming to this one... you're writing impresses me and lifts me up, even when you are writing about something as dark as this part of your past. you have true talent that puts most extensively published writers to shame.

i have no advice for you other than what has already been written. i wish you well in this quest and hope you find what you are looking for.

and, as always, thanks for sharing.

limey 02-28-2005 03:41 PM

Like lookout I have nothing to add to what's been said. I read your post soon after you put it up and didn't know what to say apart from a whole raft of platitudes and cliches.

I, too, really hope that you get what *you* need from looking at these questions more closely. Hugs from across the water.

lookout123 02-28-2005 03:51 PM

i'll just let limey hug you. i don't hug big hairy guys (it tickles) uh, nevermind.

elf 02-28-2005 04:19 PM

i wish you the best on this, whether it's simply by feeling better having written all this out and sharing with with us (which I truly do appreciate. . . as others have said, you are an incredible writer) - or succeeding in finding him and closing those chapters of your life with a firm snap.

Myself, I don't truly understand the need for it and I don't think I really can. I've leant toward leaving the sleeping dogs lie and such, and simply moving on. But, then again - that may be seen as a flaw in itself. Good luck.

cowhead 03-02-2005 06:28 AM

anyway, good luck. I'm sorry things went like that. what you chose to do is what you chose to do. you are an adult and a seemingly fairly coherant one. I just wish you good luck on this quest.

wolf 03-02-2005 12:58 PM

El, if you have to, print out what you wrote to start this, and burn it on the equinox to release it, and to find balance.

cjjulie 03-02-2005 01:53 PM

I am not placing judgement AT ALL - but are you looking for some sort of validation from him? You know something like 'your right son, you are a better person than me...' If so it doesn't sound like he is capable of really giving a damn. And if he is would that really be something that would make you feel better...?

I wish you well and hope you are able to resolve this.

Elspode 03-02-2005 04:16 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by wolf
El, if you have to, print out what you wrote to start this, and burn it on the equinox to release it, and to find balance.

You know...that is a *damn* fine idea, Wolf.

This is the perfect example of being too close to one's own inner problems to see the obvious (and Pagan!) solution.

Thanks!

Elspode 03-02-2005 04:29 PM

cjj - I hadn't thought far enough to know what or *if* I want anything from the man at all. Mostly, I think I'm just bitter because he took it on the lam, never having any responsibility for what he'd wrought. He never paid a dime of child support, and only showed up over the years when he could make an entrance, a splash. We were pretty damn poor, he was pretty damn well-off most of his adult life (well, not now, but most of it).

I guess it just chaps my ass that he didn't have the fortitude to be less than 100% selfish with his life. My life is rife with things that, given a reasonable choice, I'd rather avoid and go off hiking or joining a rock band or something, but then I would be a person of very little substance. Then, one of my kids would eventually write something nasty about me.

Not the legacy I wish to leave. Not the way I wish to work out my karma.

I think it all really boils down to sour grapes in the end, doesn't it?

xoxoxoBruce 03-02-2005 07:50 PM

Aw you're just jealous because he's a christian. :lol:

zippyt 03-02-2005 11:20 PM

I can answer your question quite simply , you care because you are a good person . WAY beter than he is !!!
Even though this ass hole wasn't there for you or any body else.

As to hunting said asshat down and shakeing your ass at him saying " Nanny Nanny boo boo , I 'm beter than you are !!!!" .
Splode , dude what would that acomplish ???
The only thing i can see would be makeing your self feel bad for saying that to another human being .
You are Beter than that :thumbsup:

I would suggest hunting him down ( if you want ) just to see if he is still alive , be civil , if he gets nasty just say " i was just trying to figuer out where to claim your body so i could have it cermated so i could shove your ashes up an elaphants ass , the biggest ass i can think of , where you belong !!!"

Some thing along those lines .

I was raised simalerly ( and NO I WON'T get in to that here ) . Strange when you look back( from where you are now ) and realize just how weird things REALY were ain't it ??? :eyebrow:
But it all seemed sorta normal at the time . didn't it ?? :eyebrow:

I have had a few times when i could have called a parent on their actions in the past , but again what would that have accomplished ?? Makeing a sick old person feel worse .

Just my 2 cents , for what its is worth . :3eye:

cjjulie 03-03-2005 12:38 PM

I agree Zippy. Els you are a MUCH better person than he could ever be .


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