January 26, 2008
Originally published December 15, 2003
I know good and well that my mama sometimes thinks about me, shakes her head and wonders where she went wrong. I grew up in a stable household, I had a loving family and food on the table every day. I had clean clothes to wear. I was given fewer ass-whuppins than I really deserved, and I never was abused.
Still, I grew up to be the Black Sheep of the family.
I suppose that every family needs one, and I assumed that role. I was the rebel, the non-conformist. I drove my parents crazy when I took the first college degree ever earned by ANYBODY on either side of the family and used it to wipe my ass while I played guitar for six years. They couldn't understand how I could squander my future the way I was doing.
Hell, I didn't give a shit about the future. I was having a good time. I had wanton, rampant sex with lots of wimmen and slept past noon every day. I did every drug invented or discovered by mankind. I had no responsibilities and no obligations weighing me down. I was a free man.
I lived my live backward. I retired at the age of 22 and did pretty much what I wanted to do until I was 28. How many people get a chance to do what I did? Be young, dumb and full of cum in the 1970s, hang out in the bars every night, play guitar and have wimmen throw themselves at you. Is that paradise, or what?
I didn't give a shit if the sun came up in the morning. Usually, I was awake to see it when it did. I made enough money to pay my bills and I lived on junk food and amphetamines. I had more pussy than I could handle. I had more dope than I could smoke. I was living in high cotton by my standards.
I don't remember what burnt me out and made me go straight when I did. I believe that I was playing guitar one night and just had a flash about what I would look like and where I would be in ten years if I kept going the way I was going. I went to work in the chemical plant one month later.
I quit smoking dope, quit taking amphetamines and started doing shiftwork. I married twice, sired two children and provided well for my family as I moved up through the ranks. I worked my ass off. I still played guitar with my friends, but I stopped doing it in the bars. I tried as hard to live the straight life as I could.
But I fucked it up. Now, I have two divorces under my belt and a totally fractured family. I seldom speak to my daughter and I see my son twice every month. Neither ex-wife wants anything to do with me. I sleep alone most of the time and I'm beginning to like it that way. I lost my career because of my blog.
I've managed to be the Black Sheep almost all of my life. I seem to be good at that job. But it's all my own fault.
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