billymack
On a tiny island located off the southeastern coast of Florida I was born. Though that was in 1975, Palm Beach is still a crazy place. Each home is a castle guarded by large fences and high hedges. The ocean envelops the island to its east and the innercoastal to its West. Most people would say that the people who live behind those walls of shrubbery are rich. For the most part that is true, but more true is that most the people there are insane and have a staff to indulge their mental illnesses.
I was born into one such mental mess of a family. I usually knew my governess better than my own mother. However, yearly they would disappear much like the drummer's of Spinal Tap. Mommy Dearest is a movie I still can't watch because it hits so close to home that describing my relationship with my mother is near copyright infringement. She was born with sight impairment that seemed to damage her ablitiy to say the words, "I love you." Since one could argue that she has such a difficult time saying those words maybe the cat got her tongue, and in the process scratched her corneas too. I still love her.
Dad was cool. He would wake me up in the morning make bisquick biscuits and send me off to school. He would often take me to work, and pick me up too. Often I would stay at his mother's, my grandmother's house, for months at a time. Dad though could best be described as a little quirky with catchphrases that would make Homer Simpson scratch his head. I had to explain to my Dad when I was in college how, "Cool as a Roach," might be taken the wrong way by his evangellical friends, but endear him to that one dead head buddy we are all afraid to admit we have.
My parents divorced when I was 9 years old. Mother told me I was the head of the household. The next day I got to fire my first employee. Imagine how insulting to be a 40 something fired by a 9 year old and it was serious. Trust me I didn't like it either.
My Grandmother became my solace. I have been all over the world and eaten at some of the finest resturaunts and they have nothing on Grandma Jane. She is a magician in the kitchen. Martha Stewart...sorry you are the weakest link when compared to Jane. This is where my love affair with food began. When I was with Grandmother I was happy and the food was there the whole time. Jane is fiesty, but down to earth. She taught me that money means nothing. Its from her I got the idea that you are only as rich as the memories you have and the friends you get to share them with. She had been rich and she had been poor. It is in your heart what matters, but gravy helps too.
It was a struggle growing up not finacially but in other ways. I really didnt have guidance from the parents. I taught myself to eat. Kids will eat the worst things when put to their own knowledge. That cheesecake with KFC extra crispy legs as candles sounds fun and interesting to a kid. I really struggled with my weight until Jr. High. I know every guy probably says this, but I magically transformed then to an athlete. I could afford to eat those 10,000 calories a day and not gain anything, but muscle for along time. That came to a crunching stop when I wrapped a car around a telephone poll. My mother's wrecked car had a license plate that said, "You Got a Friend in Jesus." It wasn't scratched and I walked away from the wreck. However, my knee cartildge was powder. The story is actually funny but I'll tell it a different time. So long story short (ha ha ha.) I started to get fat again. The beer didn't help, and the liqour made it quicker. I partied like a rockstar in college and I got really heavy.
Now, I am an artist/teacher living in Bradenton, Florida. My family consists of my lovely wife and english bulldog named Jagermiester. I just had Gastric Bypass, and life is good.
