Gut Rumbles

June 19, 2004

Just a day

I haven't felt good today. I've not been physically ill; I've just been down and depressed. I mowed my lawn, but my heart wasn't in it. Once upon a time, I would have been very proud of the grass I've managed to grow on this sandpile where I live, but it doesn't matter much to me now. I just cut the grass to keep the neighbors from thinking badly of me. I never did find that loudmouthed frog in the back yard.

Henry came over and gave me some squash and cucumbers from his garden. I ate them this afternoon while I watched the US Open Golf Tournament on television. I really should wipe the cobwebs off my clubs and start playing again. I used to be pretty good at that game. I THINK I miss playing, but I miss other things a lot more.

I took all of my guns out today and cleaned them. I like the smell of gun oil. According to the court order Jennifer has hanging over my head, I'm supposed to get rid of every one of those weapons before I can see Quinton again. I don't understand that. Jennifer has at least one gun that I know of, because I BOUGHT IT FOR HER. And if I wanted to kill her, I would have done it a long time ago. It's just more bullshit from a vindictive bitch that I made the mistake of marrying.

I bought my single-shot .22 rifle for Quinton. That's the same kind of gun I learned to handle when I was young and I don't see anything wrong with a father teaching his son to shoot and handle a firearm safely. In fact, I believe that it is a DUTY. A single-shot .22 rifle is perfect for the job, because it makes a person think about every shot. Plus, the ammo is cheap.

I'm not giving up my guns. I will NOT be an unarmed citizen expecting government to protect me from footpads, goblins, rattlesnakes, rabid racoons or barking frogs. I want to be able to shoot first instead of calling 911. I don't give a shit what a judge says.

Let HIM come live where I do for a while. He'll buy his own goddam guns.

I am in a rebellious, shitty mood. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired and I've had enough pure bullshit heaped on my head to last for a lifetime. Tomorrow is Father's Day and the closest I can come to seeing my father or my grandfathers is a visit to the cemetary, which I won't make. I want to see my son, but I doubt that possibility, too. It'll just be another day for me.

I'll go see mama tomorrow. She always makes me feel at home.


I'd be concerned if your heart was in cutting the lawn.
It seems unlikely that that's one of your more passonite exercises.

Posted by: skippystalin on June 19, 2004 11:01 PM

I'd be concerned if your heart was in cutting the lawn.
It seems unlikely that that's one of your more passonite exercises.

Posted by: skippystalin on June 19, 2004 11:02 PM

D'OH! Sorry about the double post.

Technology confuses me.

Posted by: skippystalin on June 19, 2004 11:02 PM

Dear Acidman, I'll pray for you and for Quinton. I have deep respect for a dad who keeps plugging away at the effort to be part of his son's life. Love is forever, and I'll bet young Quinton KNOWS you love him. Keep up the good work, and happy Father's day from a fan of yours who is confident that things will get better for both of you..,,,

Posted by: ann on June 20, 2004 12:02 AM

Hang in there, man. Life's a bitch, but ya gotta hang in there.

Posted by: Steve on June 20, 2004 12:12 AM

I don't know about guns, but you've taught me about Quinton. I'm sorry, but I am pissed that you don't get to see him.

I agree with Ann, and I will pray for both of you, and I am impressed with your perseverence. I know Quinton is too. I don't care what happens with my Father's Day, I'll just hope for the best for you...

Posted by: Carl on June 20, 2004 01:45 AM

Dear Rob - Ann, (above), said it better than I could ... I agree with her completely. Having said that, go see mama. The good ones always make you feel at home. And, having lost my own to cancer, kiss her for me. With love, Terry

Posted by: Terry Reynolds on June 20, 2004 10:38 AM

Hey Rob - Happy Father's Day to you! How wonderful that there are fathers who desperately want to be part of their children's lives. My daughter woke up crying this morning because HER father doesn't care about her and hasn't seen her in 7 years. All she wants is to be able to wrap her arms around her dad and say she loves him.

Posted by: Heather on June 20, 2004 12:40 PM

You know from way back how I feel about your relationship with Quinton. It is one of the many things about you that I respect and admire.
I know how difficult it must be for you to have to choose between your son and your right to bear arms. I'm not sure that a court can force you to 'get rid' of your guns. They could possibly send someone from childrens services out to insure that the guns are secured in a safe area where Quintion (or his friends) would not have access to them. But I seriously don't believe they can force you to give them up. You need a lawyer.

Posted by: wanda on June 20, 2004 04:22 PM

Happy belated Father's Day, artificial thing that it is. I wish I could talk to my Daddy, and he to me, half as well as you and Q seem to communicate.

Posted by: Justthisguy on June 21, 2004 01:43 AM
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