As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
I was thinking about my old man, not that I make a habit of it, but in reading a book of short stories about maniacs, and naturally the thought of the old man pierced my thought.
I was poor as a child, as my father brilliantly found ways to spend money on himself. I think it was cheap booze, coffee and gas, as he had a mission to run from the failure he was. Poverty was a leverage of control, as the old man needed control as he was always out of control.
As this is Lame Cherry concentrate, the story was about a farmer named Maynard who asked me to come over and work for him. I was all for it, as it meant money. The old man shot it down though as he said Maynard was a bit wild at work and would probably get me killed.
I am still puzzled about that, if the old man was lying to me or telling me the truth, or as usual was using a partial truth to get what he wanted, was me as a slave.
See there was enough truth in this I suppose as Maynard's wife had killed a kid. I don't think it was deliberate. Was just a kid at my cousins she ran over. Granted as this was a cousin that screwed me over in the purchase of my Great grandfather's homestead, I would have hoped that he had been killed by Mrs. Maynard, but it suffices it to say that a dead kid by the old lady, probably had a partial truth to what the old man was warding me off about.
Odd people they were, in Maynard had her in an old folks home, and he used to tell the staff that her vulva was dry. Odd thing for him to know about and I did not want to know, but now you know why I use the word vulva in the blog often enough, as it was the first time I ever heard that word in conversation as a kid, and it being so strange I still use it in conversation to put an odd spin on things.
Anyway, there is no moral to this story, as my old man was the one who screamed at me after a horse fell on me in the winter on ice, as the cattle were getting away...........no worry about me, and he is the one who almost deliberately ran me through the baler for insurance money I suppose............and he was the one had two modes of letting me know I failed in screaming at me in minutes of profanity or laughing at me in mirth, as having your kid fail was a great delight to him.
It was just the old man. He was a sociopath part of the time and the other part he was nuts. Never could figure out the intricacies of him, as there were so many, and I just hit the high spots of his lunacy in forensic psychology.
In closing, I think I would have preferred taking my chances with a lunatic who paid me money, rather than one who paid in grief.
Enjoy the day, because the day always comes when people die and are in hell, and you are not.
- Lame Cherry