Parents and kids don’t always see eye to eye.
And while it’s okay to disagree, sometimes HOW we do it is the most important factor.
I learned early that I could push my dad’s buttons and one time hammered them so hard that he chased me around our farm with an axe.
After ten minutes of outpacing him I understood his ferocity and knew full well that if dude caught me he’d use it.
It was a far too heavy tool to cart around for nothing.
Now only his own body could stop him.
My tenacious lumberjack dad.
Thank you, friend.
Barry out.
Good choice of music Barry, fits in with your childhood story as well.
John
Leamington Spa, England
Well, doesn’t anyone want to know if he caught me?
I think we all know how to push our parent’s buttons when they are alive, but how do we push them after they have passed away?
Don
We can push them by passing over quicker. Where’s the line for that?
See? Now you’ve got me pushing My Own Buttons for criminy’s sake!
My brother-in-law had speakers a mile wide and half a mile high and this song came through nicely on them.
Of course we were both drunk when this axe chase happened and yes, I really did try hard to push mother-fucker`s buttons.
He definitely pushed mine and didn`t think for two seconds when it came to using a tool against me.
One tough fucker. My Dad.
Perhaps one day I can get a sibling to verify this but one day Dad choked me into unconsciousness. We had just bought him a lazy boy chair and as I was the stupid fucker who put the most paper route (we all had `em) loot toward the chair, I got to sit in it.
That should have taught me something about contributing but no, it didn`t.
This was a christmas thing.
Like every other christmas.
Dad chased me for about 35 minutes – which was about 30 minutes beyond my hah-hah comfort zone.
Mom phoned auntie Ethel (dad`s sister) to come out to our farm to try and calm down the old man.
Our farm was only 7 miles or so west of Virden, Manitoba so Ethel raced out, probably getting there within 10 minutes.
This was close to when my dad accepted god into his heart and turned toward AA. But that day we both needed extra help because his trap line check-run lasted for over half and hour. That`s a long battle.
Son-of-a-pupster wanted me bad.
Fierce was something I saw in his eyes. Fierce.
I robbed motherfucker of some glee of chopping me, I guarantee you.
Fucking guy.
Maybe the old man`s happy I`m wiping his ass now.
Maybe secretly he`s laughing at me.
My shit will catch you, fast guy.
There`s nothing I want to think about less.
As I ran by my brothers and sister and mom and aunt would say Keep Running!
I could see the old man tiring but nothing would make the stupid cunt give up!
He`s like stumbling toward me as I lay on the grass a football field away!
Human Aids. I wish we would have had a camera.
Even going down the wrong direction, my dad wouldn`t give up.
Sometimes we NEED to give up!
I had to stay my distance from him for weeks.
Like I was the guy with the axe!
Looked for a hidden knife, too.
I knew alot was expected of me and I was quite prepared to give it. If dude would have said let`s fight this thing together I would have been all over that.
But no. He wants to do everything HIS way. Always.
That sits well with the rest.
Okay, that`s it now because its getting late and no one is going to read this shite anyhow.
Except me.
Good Nite Good Sir.
For anyone who cares my aunt’s name who came out to intervene is Ethel Walton. Dad’s sister.
I remember her being amazed at the old fellas stamina and yelling “Come on Gary, give it up!”
But motherfucker wouldn’t give it up.