Today came and shortly after Today came again. It goes like this. It will always go like this, and I dislike the word always, but I find it grand to think about the departure of one day for another, and I think it grand about how even after the most beautiful sunrise, that I know in my heart, there will be a more beautiful sunrise soon enough.
‘Just a Captain’ to be played on the Radio tonight! This is a song that can break me to pieces when I listen to it alone at night. The song has deep meaning and memories for myself, my brother, and family members.
My father was a talented musician. In the early 1970’s he once shared the stage with a budding group named Aerosmith. My father wrote, sang, and played guitar in numerous bands all over New England.
His song, ‘Just a Captain’ will be played tonight 4/29/21 at 6:45 PM EST on Lazer 99.3 out of East Longmeadow, MA.
If you’d like to listen to the song live you can stream it via the radio station website here: (Just click the ‘Listen Live’ link located on the top right of their website)
I’ll be listening! This is a large moment for my family. Special thanks to my brother, Chris, who contacted the radio station and shared the song with them. Chris also shared a bit of Dad’s life story with them. It turns out they liked the story and the song.
Keep in mind that my Father wrote this song in the mid-to late 70’s and the quality of the recording is of that time period. Either way, in my opinion, it sounds incredible.
My Dad would have been 66 today. It’s been a tough few days leading up to this. The emotions snuck up on me. I didn’t expect it to be like this. At night I’ve been sitting on our back deck looking at the stars waiting for him to show himself. Sometimes I play his music. I don’t always handle that too well.
I took Gavin fishing this past weekend. He met an adorable little girl who was bird watching with her mother. Within minutes they were talking and it didn’t take long before Gavin announced to them that his Grandfather died. My father was amazing with Gavin. Which, for me, was healing to see. When I was Gavin’s age my father wasn’t part of our family unit.
Thanks everyone, for the digital support and friendship. I consider of number of you friends. Even if only through these online channels, you are great people. I’m thankful for that and I’m thankful for WP. One of the bright spots for me (concerning the writing world) was Tara and her accepting a short story of mine into a wonderful horror anthology that she edited and published. Tara, I appreciate you. I still can’t find the motivation to submit any work and you were able to get that unstuck. I know I can ‘get there’ again, but I guess not yet.
So, I think I’ll take myself fishing today and see if I can find Dad.
I look back at my childhood and pull the good from the not good. There was plenty of both. Somehow I’ve become a success in life. To me, happiness is success. But to much of society, prosperity is the measure worth looking at. I wish it wasn’t like this. Reading a book outside with the sun touching the pages while listening to Spring-time birds, all while thinking nothing other than the book and the sun and the birds, that is a measure I use to gage my happiness.
Yet, somehow, even with my bad portions of my childhood, I am a success on other levels as well. I am a father. A husband. A business owner. A college graduate. I have been elected President and owner of a new company set to explode. We are building a new building in a city which contains Maine’s second largest population. I picked the city. It’s diverse. I like diversity. My company will bring new jobs to this city. As I told the city officials, my goal is to enhance the community we enter. I will do exactly that. Our store will open later this summer.
I bring these points up because, based on only my writing, it’s possible for someone to assume that I am hobbled in a dark hole spinning around in circles. That isn’t the case. It’s simply easy for me to remember the bad and to write about the bad. Just as easily as it is for me to write about morning coffee.
When I was a teenager I wanted to be a writer who lived in Maine. At that point I lived in Massachusetts. I’ve lived in a few different states, however, I am now a writer who lives in Maine. I always wanted to be a father and husband. And while sitting in a jail cell in my early twenties, I knew I’d be a loving father and husband. My will was never broken nor in question.
My childhood trauma does not define me. I use it as motivation. And through my freedom of expression that motivation lives nearly in tangible forms. I set my goals long ago and now I’m setting new goals to will into being.
I can’t wait to see what the next ten years will bring. I am blessed. I am thankful. And please keep in mind, I may write about some awful situations, some of the darkest of places, and of thoughts no one wishes upon another- keep in mind that I am fine. More than fine. It’s important the bad is not forgotten with my abundance of good in the now. Much like the photo below. Taken a month before my father’s passing. I knew he was dying. I was on a bender, I look beat up, tired, real. I remember taking the photo and staring at it, taking in all of its reality. I know I don’t look my best, but I feel the thoughts that I had during the moment, simply by viewing the photo. This game of life is something to cherish. All of it.
You ever walk up a flight of concrete stairs and wonder who poured the cement? How long until it starts to crack? And how many winters it can survive until the cement needs to be ripped out and new steps need to be created?
I was meant to write, I believe; not to do the other. I didn’t pick that path. It’s been placed in front of me, an unquestioned dream-come-true. So, I’ll walk it with unmoving faith. Because that’s me. That’s always been me.
Never. Give. Up. I’m a business owner, and published author. Twenty years ago, while attending college, I was sentenced to jail and served time. I had a choice. I made it. And I thank God I picked the right side. ‘Cause it was close. I stood on the edge. But, now as a husband and father, I stand on a mountain.