Numero Uno

Posted: July 30, 2013 in Uncategorized

It’s late and I’m sitting here staring at the screen thinking of what to write for my 1st post. This should be easy. In my spare time I love to write. Saved in neat little files on my computer are plenty of little ideas turned stories that hopefully one day I’ll finish and have them become novels. Furthermore, I have so much bottled up inside, I could fill pages upon pages of this blog. So whats the problem?
It’s me. Opening myself up to the world. OK maybe not the world, not everyone alive is gonna read this. I’m not that egoistical. But opening up at all is not something I’m good at. I read other blogs, and my friends Facebook statuses and some people have no problem telling everyone and their mother (literally their mothers) stuff that maybe they shouldn’t. Social Medias have quickly become a lot peoples public diaries, people who quickly turn around and say “Hey mind your own business!”
I’m not one of those people. So why even write a blog? Good question. The truth is I want my my inside thoughts out I do want to share. I want to know what other people think and take their advice. It would just be awesome if no one knew it was me.
I have friends who come to me often with their problems and issues, looking to me to say the right words and give them advice. But yet I find it hard to do the same with them. I’m sure they will listen. I’m sure they will give me the best advice they have. But in the end ( just like they do) I will make my own choices and blaze my own path.
So what do I write about, a woman I like? No, not yet. My family? Too dark and twisted don’t want to scare you off yet. Lets wait til the 2nd or 3rd date for that. The weather? OK I’m kidding, let’s not talk about the weather.
OK lets start off with something happy. The 2 men who helped shape my life and made me who I am today.
My mom had me when she was young, or at least young for that time. Today she would be a celebrity on t.v. From the beginning my grandfather was there to guide me and mold me and protect me. They used to tell the story of when I was baby I once fell and hit my head on the side of my crib. My grandfather came to my rescue. His response? He took the offending crib outside and smashed it to pieces for daring to cause pain to his grandson. He was in the air force, on the police force and by the time my earliest memories start he was a park ranger. He saw the world for what it was. And was quick to tell some one exactly what he thought of them. He was quick to anger but couldn’t hold a grudge. I remember as a kid if given the option of a spanking or grounding I took grounding every time. I knew I would get off easier that way. He’s the reason I don’t smoke. He made me a bet that I would be smoking by the age of 16. He passed when I was about 13. but i still held to the bet, and by the time I was 16 I didn’t have the urge to give in to peer pressure. I got my love of motorcycles from him. When I was old enough, he would load me on the back and we would just ride never having a destination, just 2 guys riding in the wind. I miss him very much. I know he’s in heaven now, watching over me and still protecting me. (Trust in other posts I’ll talk about the wrecks that should have killed me and yes I said wrecks)
The 2nd man who shaped my life was my dad. Now again my mom had when she was young, and the man I call my dad isn’t the man who I share DNA with. ( Again another story for another post) My mom married the man I call my dad, when I was about 7. I’ll admit before he entered our lives me and my brother Micheal were probably headed on a path of destruction. We were impolite, unruly, and wild. We had no discipline, the 1st man my mom married didn’t really care what we did as long as it didn’t disrupt he TV time. Well that ended quickly. We soon learned what spankings were, what manners were, and dreaded trips to the bathroom when out in public. Don’t get me wrong we weren’t abused, but we were taught to respect and how to behave. Those lessons are still with me today and I try my best to pass them on to my children. Brad Paisley did a song called “The Man He Didn’t Have to Be” and that about sums it up for my dad. We’re not as close now. Life happens. Life gets busy. But I know if I ever truly needed him he would be there for me, and same goes the other way. I love you, dad.
OK I’m done for the night thanks for taking the time to read. Check back often for more insight to my crazy mind.
RK out.

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