Friday, March 25, 2016
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Tuesday, March 22, 2016
I have a fairly tiny inner circle. The middle ring tend to really like me, the outer ring not so much then there are many people that I don't even think of. But my inner circle can be an unpleasant place.
They see the best and worst of me and the worst is not very nice. But I love them and if they love me they work to see past the worst. Some manage it brilliantly, others less so.
I stopped smacking my children when my first got to about 6 years old. It just did not make any sense. Smacking was ineffective and I saw the little guy hardening up to it. Other unpleasantries have included shouting matches, Cullen rant sessions and one very unfortunate situation where I threw a plastic bottle of lemonade on the floor showering my wife and myself with - well - lemonade.
And I thank with all my heart most of those from my inner circle who make fun of me being a rant king, simply considering me a dickhead in their own time and in the best cases showing a little understanding. And the fact is you can leave my inner circle anytime you like. It's not the Hell's Angels or the Mafia.
But there was a day that trust died both for me and a young person from my inner circle.
When I was in a less than finer moment my young friend pulled out their phone and began to record me having a Cullen rant. That implicit threat to crack open my most private place with my closest people made me see even redder.
And at that very moment trust died for me. At that second I went quiet. After sidling up to my young friend and quickly but surprisingly wrenching the phone off them I walked away with a view to deleting that piece of footage. I never really did that and so there's a very good chance you'll see Cullen at a low point one day on YouTube or in some other public domain.
But in my physical action of wrenching the phone away trust died for my young friend too.
No inner circle, no talking and at last count, a year and a half of passive aggression. The last words were something like:
"You are a piece of shit with no redeeming qualities - you don't deserve any of the good things that you have. You don't deserve your wife you don't deserve your children and you don't deserve me." etc
I mull over those words everyday and have been able to convince myself that my young friend was wrong. And I regret what we lost that day.
But I also regret the way that there seems to be an internecine war on Cullen. With my young ex friend recruiting whoever they can find from whoever will listen.
I know that domestic violence dwells in a house of silence but I truly believe this is not one of those cases. We are not talking about exposing a decade of domestic abuse. I suppose it depends on who you listen to.
My only job is to get up every morning and remind myself I'm not a piece of shit with no redeeming qualities and that there are at least some people who refuse to believe it.
Monday, March 21, 2016
Tuesday, March 15, 2016
Thursday, March 10, 2016
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
Friday, March 4, 2016
Today is a perfect day in some ways. Backed in with over 25 years of just "being".
- I have a peach tree that sprouted next to my driveway about five years ago
- I (25 years ago) married into an Italian Family that have a great many stories and - sadly - lost loved grandparents
- I like gardening
- My father in law's father loved his peaches and at the perfect time of year they were firm, but sweet.
- I grafted a cutting from my late "grandfather in law's" favourite tree to the wild rootstock next to my driveway
- Today they ripened
- Tonight I needed to pick my daughter up from work at Norwood at 9.45 but I knew my father in law would be at home and happy enough to see me if I came,
- The Masciantonio house is a nexus.
- We got to share peaches in wine. Something that Guiseppe loved - and something I was looking forward to.
- And when I turned up with peaches, without any prompting that's exactly what Luigi started to do.
A perfect day.
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
Winston Wolf, the character from Pulp Fiction who was called in to get the boys out of hostile territory after they spattered a car throughout with Marvin's brains.
He was the fixer. I like the character - "you've got a corpse, in a car, minus a head, in a garage. Take me to it"
But it comes with a price:
- Fix problems before they become problems and nobody thanks you, or even knows that you did anything.
- Make it look easy and everyone thinks it's easy.
- When you're up to your elbows in crap and digging your way out, bosses are likely to think you created the crap. Furthermore, the creators of the crap are just as happy to let it seem that way, or don't even see that it's down to them.
But I don't think I'd have it any other way. At the end of all this - career, life, friendship, job - I need to believe that I was always me. And the me I want to be is the guy who just puts in an honest effort, doesn't grandstand, and lives or dies on his own terms.
I have to work with people I don't trust, doing things I often don't enjoy, in the near certainty that I will get shafted one day. But the only person I need to impress is myself, and I'm the only one who sees my whole picture. So "fixer" is dangerous, but it suits me.