Siblings, by Ricky

Before I was born, “It was a very good year. It was a very good year for small town girls [mother] and soft summer nights” [dad got her pregnant in October]. Mom and Dad hid the pregnancy from everyone by getting married in November, 1947, before it became obvious she was with child [a big scandal back then]. Immediately after, they moved from Minnesota to Lawndale, California.
After 8 months of pregnant pauses, I was born on the 9th of June 1948, another very good year for small little boys just entering the world. My mother’s sister told me about 40 years later, that I was supposed to be half of a set of twins, but sometime during the 8 months prior to my birth, the other half was spontaneously aborted. No one knew why, but I do. The first reason was two in the womb is very crowded and there was no privacy. That fact combined with the second reason (“The Other” was a straight homophobic bully) was justification for me to kick him out of my wombicile. Some may call this fratricide but I call it interior remodeling. Thus, I was born an only child. So like Harry Potter, I was the boy who lived.
The next seven years passed quickly. Mother reported all my shenanigans to my dad who was the disciplinarian in their relationship. I got lots of spankings as I was rather headstrong. So, after stresses became too much for them to handle, my parents decided to divorce in 1955 without telling me or me being aware of the impending disaster to be fall me. At the beginning of the summer of 1956 just before my 8th birthday, I was sent to live with my mother’s parents on their farm in central Minnesota. In the summer of 1957 I turned 9 and my mother came to Minnesota to attend the wedding of her sister. I thought she would take me back home to California but she would not/could not. In December at Christmas vacation from school, at age 9 ½ my father came to Minnesota for one week during Christmas and New Year’s Day. The night before he left, without me, he told me of the divorce, that mom had remarried, was pregnant with twins due to be born any day now, and I had a step-brother age 14 ½. In May, 1958, Mom and my step-father brought the twins to Minnesota to show off to my grandparents and to finally bring me back to California in a new home and family situation.
My step-brother, Gene, and I got along really well considering the difference in ages. We could talk and play together well enough. We never argued or fought. We took turns caring for the twin babies as they grew until he had to go into the Navy. He was on the USS Ticonderoga, the aircraft carrier involved in the Gulf of Tonkin incident which propelled President Johnson into escalating the Vietnam (undeclared) War.
Gene survived the Navy experience and led a normal life. He married and fathered a daughter. He worked hard, unlike me, and passed away about 5-years ago.
The twins also grew and we talked, played, and had fun together. I loved them a lot. They both grew and prospered in the normal ways. Dale also went into the Navy and survived and eventually married a woman who had four nearly grown teen and a preteen girls. He never had children of his own. He passed away four years ago. Gale is still alive and living in her home in South Lake Tahoe. She had two children who spawned several kids of their own and she now has about 10 grandchildren. All of my siblings and I went to school at South Lake Tahoe. (Gene for 4-years of high school, me from 5th grade to first year of college, Dale and Gale from K-12th grades.)
Of course my children and grandchildren are all siblings to each other respectively. One daughter is currently working for McDonald’s at their headquarters in central Chicago in the Computer Security Department for a 6-figure salary. The next daughter is working for a law firm in the Denver Tech Center area. My son is married and working somewhere in New York but lives in New Jersey. He has two children, a boy and a girl. My youngest daughter is in the Air Force in Tucson, Arizona. She also is married and has four children, three girls and one boy. All of my children are very close and are frequently communicating with each other. Family life doesn’t get much better than that.
© 10 December 2018 
 About the Author 

I was
born in June of 1948 in Los Angeles, living first in Lawndale and then in
Redondo Beach.  Just prior to turning 8 years
old in 1956, I was sent to live with my grandparents on their farm in Isanti County,
Minnesota for two years during which time my parents divorced.
When united with my mother
and stepfather two years later in 1958, I lived first at Emerald Bay and then at
South Lake Tahoe, California, graduating from South Tahoe High School in 1966.  After three tours of duty with the Air Force,
I moved to Denver, Colorado where I lived with my wife and four children until
her passing away from complications of breast cancer four days after the 9-11-2001
terrorist attack.
I came out as a gay man in
the summer of 2010.   I find writing
these memories to be therapeutic.
My story blog is: TheTahoeBoy.Blogspot.com

Help, by Will Stanton

I could use some help – right now. Actually, I could have used some help most of my life. Maybe we mere mortals are not supposed to know how to make our way through this confusing world and deal with all the unexpected trials and tribulations that befall us poor souls. Maybe we are supposed to just muck along unless someone, somehow, has been endowed with special talent and/or has mentors to assist along the way. I never really did. I have found the world generally confusing. I could have used some help, probably a lot.

Ironically, people with a little more awareness and circumspection find dealing with the world more troublesome than apparently more blasé people who are generally concerned primarily with money, food, sex, and the next ballgame. Frankly, those who appear most mindless often seem to be the happiest and content. Not me. I was blessed, or cursed, with ample awareness and, consequently am perhaps too aware of what really is going on in the world, and too often, what is behind it. That can make a person feel depressed and impotent. I really could use some help.

Occasionally, friends have attempted to help me. I’m not sure this has been particularly successful. I have one friend, Kathy C., who has an I.Q. of 160, is constantly doing research through books and on-line, thinks at the speed of light, and, consequently, is exceptionally aware of the real world and what is behind what happens. She has tried for years, on many websites, to inform and straighten out the thinking of a lot of intellectual Neanderthals. The trouble is, of course, that the majority of readers and responders are dumber than a bag of hammers and choose merely to become angry with her. They even have criticized her for being too intelligent and too well informed. Despite hate-filled responses, she keeps trying. I admire her, but her efforts to try to improve rational thinking appear to me to be fruitless. I have concluded that nothing short of a miracle or magic could make significant progress.

Perhaps, Kathy has engaged in magical thinking regarding me, for she had a Harry Potter magic wand sent to me. That was a surprise. I have had no improvements in either health or situation. Perhaps, that’s because I haven’t even given it a wave. I suppose that I am too much of a “Doubting Thomas,” for I have yet to attempt using it to improve the world, or just my own situation, for that matter. And, if that were not enough, some recent, mysterious benefactor had a Professor Dumbledore magic wand sent to me. Apparently, someone else has reached the same conclusion about me as has Kathy. No, I haven’t waved that one around, either. It still sits in its wand-box. It would be nice if those two magic wands actually worked. I first, however, would have to be shown how to use them. I would need some help.

© 6 September 2016

About the Author

I have had a life-long fascination with people and their life stories. I also realize that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones. Since I joined this Story Time group, I have derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group. I do put some thought and effort into my stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.

Guilty Pleasure by Will Stanton

Without my dwelling upon any particular events in my life, I can say that, in general, I could have wished for a more satisfying, fulfilling life. Oh, of course, I have had some good things happen that others, perhaps, were denied; and I have not suffered the misfortunes that many others have. Yet, I would have preferred to have had a life of far better health, more supportive family, better direction, greater success, more love and happiness, and the physical ability to do the things I wished to do.


I always have been prone to seeing selected others who appear to be endowed with the qualities I would have preferred to share and wishing that I were like them. Of course, we can not tell for sure, especially from a distance, whether or not such persons truly possess those qualities. Simply viewing someone on TV, in movies, DVDs, photographs, or even live, briefly in passing, is no assurance that I would like to be “in their shoes” if I were fully aware of their lives, thoughts, and feelings.

Over the years, I have watched many hours of film of various genre, portraying other people’s lives. Some of it has been documentary, some of it fiction. Undoubtedly, some of my selections have been an attempt to divorce myself from the real world and to identify with the characters portrayed. I have found perhaps a dubious pleasure by identifying with some others rather than making something of my own life.
A more self-actualized person would declare that I always have needed more self-acceptance, more self-esteem; and that person would be right. My not reaching that preferred state of being has resulted in far too much time in my life wasted upon gazing at others and dreaming, “What if?”

All that time and energy wasted dreaming reminds me of a scene and a lesson I should have learned many years ago from the book “Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone.” Harry sits for hours in front of the Mirror of Erised, viewing his greatest desire reflected in the glass. He is found there by Professor Dumbledore who admonishes Harry, “ – – this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. – – It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

© 05 May 2015

About the Author

I have had a life-long fascination with people and their life stories. I also realize that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones. Since I joined this Story Time group, I have derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group. I do put some thought and effort into my stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.

Magic by Will Stanton

For some of you, please bear with me for just a moment. Today’s
topic is Magic, and what easier way to start the conversation than with some
references, using them simply as a preface to my main thoughts, references to
the currently very popular books and movies about Harry Potter. We can’t be
more magical than that. Anyone who knows him is well aware of his great magical
powers. After my preface, I’ll then tell you about a few of the things I would do if I possessed such great
powers.
Harry’s special powers came about by, first, his having been
born a wizard, not a mere mortal (or “muggle,” if you will.) Then he
honed his skills and learned many more by attending Hogwarts School. During
those several years, he also gained from practical experience utilizing his
magical powers. Then finally, author J.K. Rowling writes that Harry had
acquired the three instruments of great power: the Elder Wand (the most
powerful wand in the world), the Resurrection Stone (with which one can bring
people back to life), and the Invisibility Cloak (which hides the person
possessing it from Death.) Harry could be the most powerful wizard in the whole
world.
Rowling then writes that Harry, admirably demonstrating his
modesty and his wariness of any one person possessing such vast powers, tosses
aside the Resurrection Stone and then breaks and discards the Elder Wand. Good
old Harry, modest and of good character right to the end. Logically, however,
there was a precedent of someone possessing all three instruments of power
without having abused such powers, Harry’s own friend and headmaster Professor
Dumbledore. He had those great
powers but apparently did not abuse them.
Harry might not have been able to bring back all those good
people who died at the hands of the evil wizard, Lord Voldemort and his
minions, but at least he could have helped to heal the many injured and
traumatized. With a mere flick or two of his wand, he could have rebuilt
Hogwarts that had been left in shambles after the last confrontation with the
evil hordes. I can think of so many additional, magnanimous uses of such
powers.
Yes I admit, if I were Harry, I would have done a few minor
things for myself, too. Why not? For example, why not fix his eyesight so that
he would not have to go around with those eye glasses that always seemed to
become broken? Then, now that Voldemort is gone, he might get rid of the
lightning-scar on his forehead. There was no need to go around the rest of his
life with that mark of evil. And, how about unobtrusively growing an inch or
three, considering that Harry was so short? (I’m talking about his height.)
Now getting on with the supposed reality, this poor world seems
always to have been plagued with hordes of evil Lord Voldemort, those persons who
have caused death, trauma, and great destruction. Some start wars or otherwise
engage in various levels of violence. Crime is rampant. Lack of empathy and
civility permeate humankind. So many people seem to be prone to continually
creating toxic levels of fear, suspicion, intolerance, and hate merely by their
words, words that seem to drip with acid. One such character in Tolkien’s
“Lord of the Rings” was known as “Wormtongue,” a singularly
appropriate name. I guess that such evil is why Canada has outlawed one
American television network from opening an affiliate in Canada. Canada
actually has a law against networks lying. Amazing! I wish that the U.S. had
such a law and it were enforced. The world and our own nation suffer from such
people on a daily basis. Oh, how I would like to do something about that if
only I had great magical powers!
How I also would like to eliminate illiteracy, ignorance,
economic hardship, the sad decline of culture and society, including the
lamentable failure to raise a huge portion of our children so that they become
well prepared, happy, and productive members of society. There is so much that
needs attending to among humankind.
Even without the deficiencies and destructiveness of humankind,
the world itself has plenty of troubles: global warming, natural disasters,
disease, and possibly an asteroid or meteor crashing into the earth. The powers
of nature and the universe appear to be overwhelming; however, some good, solid
magic might be able to tone down the impact of such troubles, even if just a
little.
I know that we all are supposed to accept reality, to not engage
excessively in fantasy; yet it is easy to understand how many of us do see what is and wish how things could be, and then possibly become frustrated. There
are some people who do have sufficient abilities and truly influential
positions where they might make some positive differences. Unfortunately, such
positive people are few and far between. For the rest of us poor souls,
however, slipping into fantastic thoughts and wishes can become rather
attractive. Oh, Harry! Where are your powers when we need them?

© 22 August 2013 

About the Author 

I have had a life-long fascination with people
and their life stories.  I also realize
that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too
have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones.  Since I joined this Story Time group, I have
derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group.  I do put some thought and effort into my
stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.