To be someone else

I guess this assignment is like Freaky Friday where the child and parent get to change places and they find that they had it good all along. Many different variations since then with the different movies out. Now the assignment doesn’t say what century or if the person is alive or dead just to pick a person to switch with. I could just pick anyone. So, here it goes.

                I would want a creative person that doesn’t stress himself out too much doing the work. I would want someone fun and entertaining. I guess the person wouldn’t have to have a lot of friends or know a lot of interesting people just be interesting. The person wouldn’t have to be terribly good looking but I guess the person would be in a place to make a big difference in the world. Maybe I would be a cave man looking at the dawn of time drawing his hunting experience on the wall while waiting for his mate to cook him dinner.  I wouldn’t know how to change the world in any of the subjects taught in school. Maybe go inside someone who has changed the world to see how that was done.

                I don’t think I would do anything differently than what I am doing now. Just wait and see how the world changed.

Argument in bed

It was during Mom’s last dying days before calling 911. We were all in bed except Dad. He went into Mom’s room.  They seemed to sleep in different rooms since I went away to college in 1990 maybe even earlier when my sister moved out in 1985. Dad had the master bedroom with the queen size bed. Dad wanted mom up for whatever reason he had. Probably just to have someone watch tv with him.  I kept hearing Dad’s voice going on and on about her to just get up out of bed. She seemed to ignore him as I don’t remember her saying anything back. She probably just rolled over and kept her eyes closed.  After about 15 to 20 minutes of trying to get his wife to get up out of bed he just kept yelling over and over again, “Why don’t you just die?” After he said that three times he left the room.

                 After about an hour or so, I decided to get up and watch some television with Dad. No one kept track of dinner anymore since Mom became sick. We pretty much had to fend for ourselves when Dad was gone working but now that Mom was sick we had to fend for ourselves even when Dad was home. It was just Mom, Dad and I home now. My sister was in Portage, MI and my other sister was in North Carolina in the town Raleigh. Home cooked meals were few and far between. Dad and I ate out a lot. There suddenly was a rumble from Mom’s room. A groan then a cry.  Mom couldn’t get up in time to go to the bathroom. She was just too weak to be able to make it. She finally got up off the floor and went to the bathroom.  I cleaned up the mess. She fell again while in the bathroom. She wanted me to pick her up like I had before.  I couldn’t do it as hard as I tried. It was just too much dead weight to pull up and over.  I had to just leave her there.

                After a while, the phone rang. It was my sister from North Carolina. I was telling her how Mom was just in the bathroom and she couldn’t get up. My sister said she was going to call 911. I said ok as I didn’t know what else to do. The ambulance came. They had a hard time getting her up too. Finally they got a sheet and pulled her up. She was really crying and yelling in pain. They finally pulled her up and took her away to the ambulance. They put her into the emergency room and then intensive care.

                They kept trying to figure out what was wrong with her. They did cultures and found it to be ecoli. They did a few operations on her trying to stop the spread of ecoli. It was too late. It just spread and shut down her whole body. She kept breathing hard like a fish out of water.

                “Do you hear her breathing?” asked the nurse. “Yes,” I said.

                I felt bad. We went to Happy’s Pizza in downtown Kalamazoo. When we came back the nurse broke the news.

                “I am so sorry,” she said.  “But while you were away she just passed!”

                We all felt really bad. Dad still couldn’t believe Mom died even up to his death in 2013. Mom died in 2011.

Argument in bed

It was during Mom’s last dying days before calling 911. We were all in bed except Dad. He went into Mom’s room.  They seemed to sleep in different rooms since I went away to college in 1990 maybe even earlier when my sister moved out in 1985. Dad had the master bedroom with the queen size bed. Dad wanted mom up for whatever reason he had. Probably just to have someone watch tv with him.  I kept hearing Dad’s voice going on and on about her to just get up out of bed. She seemed to ignore him as I don’t remember her saying anything back. She probably just rolled over and kept her eyes closed.  After about 15 to 20 minutes of trying to get his wife to get up out of bed he just kept yelling over and over again, “Why don’t you just die?” After he said that three times he left the room.

                 After about an hour or so, I decided to get up and watch some television with Dad. No one kept track of dinner anymore since Mom became sick. We pretty much had to fend for ourselves when Dad was gone working but now that Mom was sick we had to fend for ourselves even when Dad was home. It was just Mom, Dad and I home now. My sister was in Portage, MI and my other sister was in North Carolina in the town Raleigh. Home cooked meals were few and far between. Dad and I ate out a lot. There suddenly was a rumble from Mom’s room. A groan then a cry.  Mom couldn’t get up in time to go to the bathroom. She was just too weak to be able to make it. She finally got up off the floor and went to the bathroom.  I cleaned up the mess. She fell again while in the bathroom. She wanted me to pick her up like I had before.  I couldn’t do it as hard as I tried. It was just too much dead weight to pull up and over.  I had to just leave her there.

                After a while, the phone rang. It was my sister from North Carolina. I was telling her how Mom was just in the bathroom and she couldn’t get up. My sister said she was going to call 911. I said ok as I didn’t know what else to do. The ambulance came. They had a hard time getting her up too. Finally they got a sheet and pulled her up. She was really crying and yelling in pain. They finally pulled her up and took her away to the ambulance. They put her into the emergency room and then intensive care.

                They kept trying to figure out what was wrong with her. They did cultures and found it to be ecoli. They did a few operations on her trying to stop the spread of ecoli. It was too late. It just spread and shut down her whole body. She kept breathing hard like a fish out of water.

                “Do you hear her breathing?” asked the nurse. “Yes,” I said.

                I felt bad. We went to Happy’s Pizza in downtown Kalamazoo. When we came back the nurse broke the news.

                “I am so sorry,” she said.  “But while you were away she just passed!”

                We all felt really bad. Dad still couldn’t believe Mom died even up to his death in 2013. Mom died in 2011.

Least favorite teacher

Going to Western Michigan University, shoot even just elementary to high school, I have come across a lot of different teachers. Some were better than others all the while some were even more inspiring than others. I am guilty of liking some subjects more than others which could influence how much I like a teacher or other. I have always liked choir, PE and English.  Art wasn’t bad. Psychology and Health class seemed interesting.  Math and science I never really liked too much and it showed with a good C throughout having to take those classes.

There were two major classes that I needed for two separate majors. Aural Comprehension for a minor in Music and I needed Coding for a web designer degree I later took at Kalamazoo Valley Community College.  I put these two subjects together as they had a lot in common with two totally different teachers I couldn’t figure out how to learn from.  I don’t know if they just didn’t teach the class or they were both weeder classes to pull out who really wanted to learn or who was really ready to do those subjects before going on. One gave me an F and the other gave me an A.  The Aural Comprehension guy gave me an F while the Coding guy gave me an A. I had no idea what I was doing in either class. I wanted to graduate WMU so I settled for a Major in Communications and a minor in Journalism.  The coding class was like drawing I just didn’t think I could do it. Both classes I could probably learn on my own but then why go to college if that is what you are going to do?

The classes seemed like it was sink or swim. No tips or tricks on personal experiences were to be had. Just a flood of information and no step by step instructions specifically saying what to do. Even when I had the outside personal assistant try to teach me aural comprehension she couldn’t figure out how to teach the class either. When the other two students got it pretty much towards the end of the class period they couldn’t say how they learned either. Somehow they just knew. I have no idea on how to teach myself aural comprehension except to keep learning my instruments (piano and guitar) and to go on www.good-ear.com I have been meaning to read books on the subject but never really got around to it.

Coding is different. It is right up there with Math and Science. I don’t think it is something I want to go further into. It seems fun to be able to tell the computer what to do but not really necessary. I signed up for a class called skill crusher but never really got into it. It was started by a liberal arts major looking to make more money. She couldn’t believe what a simple and valuable skill coding was. I still don’t understand it.

Near Death Experience

We were in the beautiful Allegheny Mountains at my Grandpap’s and Dad’s camp along the Allegheny River. My Grandpap passed away in 1979 so it was just my Dad’s camp. When I was growing up we pretty much stayed there every summer even after all my Grandparents have passed away. Mom still wanted to see her sister, my Aunt and her children my 1st cousins so we still went to Pennsylvania every summer even when not seeing the Grandparents.

                One summer, I remember it clearly now as I was making fun of my cousin for being a nun as she went to private Catholic school from elementary to Catholic College. She was far from being a nun of course and she didn’t think I was very funny. I was going to Western Michigan University at the time and I think we were freshmen. I was only 7 months older than her. We still pretty much did everything together as we were pretty much stuck with each other.

                She decided wouldn’t it be fun if we went canoeing together? The tippy, dangerous canoe. Sure, why not? So she begged to be able to use the canoe and finally everyone gave in. So, the next day we would go riding in the canoe.

                I had no intention of tipping in the canoe while I think my cousin had other plans. I was dressed in sweats, shorts underneath, t-shirt underneath a sweatshirt, socks and tennis shoes. You would think it is summer since we are out of school but we got out in April and I think it was about May when we went to camp. So, it is still a bit chilly. The mind thinking summer but reality strikes. My cousin on the other hand was in a bikini and barefoot. She assured me we wouldn’t tip. Yea, right!

                We went canoeing for a while. She would tease me about tipping over and I would yell at her not to. She kept teasing me and finally I got her to quit. She must have done it silently or she really didn’t mean to tip this time. I guess I will give her the benefit of the doubt. Anyway, last I heard was, “Chrisssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss” and then splash! The canoe tipped.

                She went swimming for the shore. I grabbed onto the boat before it could go down current. Everyone was out of the camp to see what had happened. Dad was really upset the canoe tipped. I think mostly for being irresponsible for it to tip. Everyone thought I would drown with all the clothes I had on. But with Dad’s help I managed to get the boat to shore.  We always had to go upstream as not to go downstream into the rapids. That’s where Dad thought we were going to go down into the rapids and no one knows what would happen then. No one really talks about that incident. Except that it was a stupid thing to do.

Diary

I remember my sister wasn’t home. I don’t remember where she was or really how old we were when it happened. I remember I could read which isn’t saying much because we could all pretty much read at an early age. I am going to guess I was in the 5th or 6th grade, maybe 11 or 12 years old and my sister was about 16 or 17 years old which would be a sophomore or junior in High School. But the diary wasn’t dated so it could have happened at an earlier time but I am thinking not too much earlier as she didn’t have four or five diaries hanging around just the one.

I snuck in her room a lot.

One time I was messing with the radio just making it go up and down up and down pretty rapidly. And then, to my surprise, it just broke. Mom yelled at me but my sister wasn’t mad at me. I couldn’t really understand why. She never really got mad at me for pretty much anything. Like the time I broke her Sun Tea Jar. The lid just slipped and broke into a thousand pieces. Again mom got mad at me. I guess my sister figured I got yelled at enough and didn’t put much more into it. My other sister would.

Anyway, I was reading my sister’s diary. There wasn’t anything intimate in there or anything juicy. Just that she was roller skating (at a roller skating party?) and talking to this group of people. They were having this nice conversation, talking pretty much about anything.  She was noticing how certain people would use these cool words. As if she couldn’t believe she was hanging out with the popular crowd. She really seemed to like the people she was with.  She seemed to be having a good time roller skating and just talking to this group of people using these strange, hip words. I really can’t remember what the words were but they must have been hip for their time. Bogus.  She was exploring all the ways Bogus could be use and how to use it the right way. This is bogus and that is not bogus but this could really be bogus. Bogus, Bogus, Bogus!

That was the most interesting part of the diary. I couldn’t find anything more. I had all the time in the world to look through everything but I couldn’t find anything. My sister was out working, my other sister was probably out on her bike to McDonald’s and Mom was probably sleeping. Dad was either away working or at a bar. I have a diary where is the juicy details? Nothing! Not one thing! So, I put the diary away where I found it and found something else to do.

Story set to the 1980s

I was in my room, wearing out my Duran Duran’s Rio tape, my hair was wet from just taking a shower. I put in mouse and gel all over my hair. I put my curling iron on to heat it up while blow drying my hair.

                “Her name is Rio and she dances across the land and I might find her if I am looking like I can!” the stereo blares out over the blow dryer.

                My hair is dry and ready to be curled. I have an hour before we are supposed to be ready to go out and cruise Westnedge. I am already dressed in my favorite beige pants that turn red when you fold them up at the legs from being an inch or two too long. I have a Navy yellow collared shirt with a blue anchor on the side with my favorite European red shirt that says something French.  All of these I got at the CrossRoads Mall on Westnedge.  Including perfume I got specifically at Hudson’s as that’s the only thing I could afford there.

                I curl my bangs first. I put hairspray on the curl while the iron is hot to make my curl stay better. I learned that from my cousin who more into those things than I was was. She is from Pittsburgh while all I had was Kalamazoo.  I curl my whole head so everything feathers back. Then I just spray my whole head to make sure everything stays.  I even bend over and spray the nape of my neck to add more volume. I learned this also from my cousin.

                I try not to take too long putting on makeup. I have read I shouldn’t take more than 10 minutes to put on makeup.  I have gotten most of my makeup from CVS drugstore. My sister said it is cheaper than and just as good as the other stuff. She should know. I finish my makeup and go to my sister’s room.

                “Ya ready?” I asked my sister.

                “Almost,” she says fumbling around with her leg warmers and ready to put her head band on. She is dressed a little more feminine than I am but just as glamorous. She has long, blonde hair feathered back. Her perm makes her hair a little fuzzy but not too much. Just a little around the shoulders.

                “Shake it up. It’s like bad medicine. Bad medicine is what I need!” her stereo blares. She loves Bon Jovi, Poison, Kid Rock and other glam rock bands. I was more into Punk and New Wave such as The Cure, The Smiths, Psych Furs, New Order, New English and those type of bands.  Although I played guitar, my sister seemed to prefer more guitar bands than the keyboard bands. I dabbled into keyboard along with guitar but never in a band.

                It was fall and Westnedge was the only place to go. Summer would come and we would be heading to South Haven and the cooler side of the beach.  Looking for parties and places to be where it’s at.  Where the boys are.