I STARTED OUT ON BURGUNDY BUT SOON HIT THE HARDER STUFF

My son, the Rip, tells me last week that if he could grow just 20 or 30 Marijuana plants he could make a cool $100,000.
"Its easy Dad!" he says.
"Hmmm...yes...easy" I say. 'Its a wonder everybody's not doing it"

TALIBAN TRAIN WRECK

My son informed me yesterday that the Pot they get nowadays produces a more Intelligent and Spiritual high.
"It has way cool names too, Dad...like "Taliban Train Wreck" from Afghanistan."
I was kind of dumbfounded till I glanced over at his buddy, who was looking through a straw at an antbed with his mouth hanging wide open.
"Yes I can see that" was all I knew to say.

MAN-TIME

I told ya’ll about my son the Rip last month. He has been living on a Sofa at his mothers house for the last 8 months or so. He has been doing well since deciding that he would go ahead and cave in to the “Corporate American Bullshit” as he called it, and get a job. He has had that same job for almost 6 months now and it’s a pretty good job for a punk-ass kid like him. He has a car and everything, and surprisingly, he has not wrecked it, or tore it up, or painted it some kind of Psychedelic color or anything.
He hasn’t gotten busted for dope or alcohol so you might think things are well with him.

Anyway, I told you last month he had gotten himself a girlfriend.
And his mother had called me, concerned about everything they were doing on her couch all night long, and how her husband wasn’t too happy with that arrangement, and how the Rip was gonna have to find another place to get his freak on. And I told you that I had made them a little place in my spare bedroom where they could come every now and then and play “House.”

Well, it only lasted about two weeks. They stopped coming over.
So I asked the Rip what happened to Maddie, that cute little girlfriend of his.
He says “Oh, that’s done”
“Done?’ I ask ‘Whats that mean, “done””
“Done” is his one word answer.
So I say:
“Don’t just say “done” boy, like you are ordering up a steak, or finishing up a deadline. Say “Oh, that didn’t work out” , or “we split up” or “she broke my heart”. Give it the respect it deserves”
Of course he doesn’t get it.

So I talk to his mom the next week. She says she asked him what happened.
He told her that “She was too much like you, Mom”
‘Whats that mean?” she asks.
“Oh, she wanted to know everything all the time like where I was and who I was with and what I’m doing tomorrow. I couldn’t take it anymore. I need my man time”
I just cracked up.
I said “yeah, he will find out that "man time" is way over-rated”

So his mom goes on to tell me about all the text messages he gets from girls. Some are pretty bawdy. So I tell her
“You know that kid is hung like nobodies business”
She smiles and says “He won’t let me see”
I say “He won’t let me either, but I saw him a while back getting out of the shower. Good God-A-Mighty!
Theres a pause and she says slyly
“He gets it from you, you know”
I shake my head
“No, you haven’t seen this kid. Its unbelievable!”
and we both crack up.

Very strange to be able to have a conversation like this with an Ex-Wife!

THE SHINING

OK- I'm really tired of talking about Hospitals and Diabetes and Addiction...though today I can claim 150 days spotless clean...
Ah, there we go!

Clean!

My apartment had turned into a HAZMAT site over the last several months.
Last night my son's girlfriend came over and cleaned for me. Her name is Maddie.
She shines.
My son , Rip, has been doing well for two months now.
His feathers are gone and hair grown back.
He has a good job at a shipping warehouse, loading and unloading.
He has earned his car and is enjoying it immensly.
He and his girlfriend have set up shop in my middle room.
He has't moved back in, I'm afraid we'd kill each other, but I have given him a place where he and Maddie can come to kick back and be close.
Just them, a few nights a week.
No buddies, no parties, just a little spot of their own and that kind of thing.
The other nights he stays with his mom.
Maddie can't spend the night over there, as mom has an 8 year old.

They grow up so fast.

THAT BOY OF MINE...

That boy of mine, the Rip, came home the other night with Pink Feathers glued to his scalp.
I do mean glued as they are still there, though trimmed down.
He looks like something that escaped from a Petting Zoo.

He said he let some little gal do that to him.
I think she used a whole thing of Superglue.


I told him I did something stupid like that one time.
I let two girls, Willie and Wendy, paint my toenails.
I asked him:
"Was it worth it boy, lettin' that gal do that to you?"
"No Dad, not really" came his sheepish reply
"Now ask me was it worth it to let those gals paint my toenails"
He looks up, sees me grinnin' like a butchers dog...
"Was it worth it Dad?"
OH YEAH...ABSO-FUCKIN-LUTELY!"

MY CRYSTAL BALL

HE THINKS I TOOK HIS CAR BECAUSE OF A FORTUNE COOKIE

I am just coming off a season where the Cat has my Tongue. I think it has something to do with the Rip (MY SON) having graduated high school 2 months ago and I am having Pseudo Post-Partum Allergic Reaction…Both kids are out of school and I’m middle aged and dumb as ever.

Complicating matters is the fact that the Rip has announced
"I do not want a job…I will not conform to the corporate American Bullshit”

I said
"What you mean to say is “Corporate Global Bullshit”, but that’s beside the point, boy. I used to say the same thing, but I was working 2 jobs.
Give me MY car keys. You can conform to that. You will find it is far nobler to take a job, and pocket the $300 a week it will provide than it is to SPONGE off of your mother, father and friends who are CONFORMING their fingers to the fucking bone”

Of course he said
‘How am I going to get a job without a car”
and I gave him a withering look because I just finished going for 3 and a half years without a car.
Then I bought one and gave it to him witrh the stipulation that he get a job. . After he realized what a stupid and obviously flawed question he asked, he gave me a sheepish look and said
‘Oh yeah…you “

I gave the car back to him three weeks ago, saying
"you have two weeks to find a job".

I am sad to report that these three weeks passed and that I took the car back again last night while we had dinner at Uncle Yang’s Royal Thai House.

You want to know what his fortune cookie said? Hmmm?

"Do the right thing and your possession will return to you within the month"

He is a good kid.
He will find his way.

THE RIP

Believe me, the photo does not portray the talent for dissipating (i.e. to be extravagant or dissolute in the pursuit of pleasure) that this young man has. It almost matches my own.
He graduates high School next week.
He wants to be a Rock Star.
For his Senior Project he wrote the lyrics to a song and conmposed the music for it and played and sang in front of a live audience.
He actually wrote 3 songs. The one I liked was "Free the Tadpoles" but he tells me he went with one called "We Have a Breakthrough". This may be quite fitting for him, as he has made some big changes the last several months and has stayed out of the usual trouble he often found himself in.
In addition to having inherited my wicked ways he also inherited a less than polished version of my own bullfrog voice along with tone-deafness so this was a major accomplishement.
He and I have had our differences, but I am very proud of him!

MALE BONDING

No fortune Cookie or Magic 8-Ball required


I got a call from one of the Rips teachers on Saturday (don't these people take a day off) and it would seem that he is having a little (lot) of trouble getting to his 3rd period Class on time. In addition, he has fallen so far behind in his homework that he is in danger of failing!

None of this comes as a very big surprise, but is still something that needed to be addressed . It is quite compounded by the fact that I get a call from the Ex Mrs. Bulletholes every day at the break of dawn to check on "our Boy".
It was during the discussion he and I were having concerning tardiness, homework and these early morning phone calls that we both simultaneously developed a black eye!
But that evening he was quietly doing his homework.

He had just finished up when an old friend came by. She surveyed the two of us with our black-eyes and, all aghast, wanted to know what had happened.
We explained it was about "homework".
She began to tell us about a special program he could get into where he wouldn't have to do any homework, he could go at his own pace, so to speak.
I told her that we would be doing this the old fashioned way, where they give him an assignment and he does the assignment. She began to protest, and the Rip and I looked at each other and grinned and proceeded to escort her to the door and throw her out on her ass.
With the door closed , we looked at each other and just cracked up.
Ain't it funny how things work sometimes?

He only asked one thing...

The Rip has moved in with his Dad!

(me)

God help us.

Can you believe those eyes?

He wanted to know if the walls were as thin as they were at my other place...

What the hell kind of question is that?

FISHING REPORT #2

FROG JUICE

I went to Church Camp last week with my old friend Kem. We have been friends for 4 decades, but we are not as good of friends as we used to be....I stopped smokin' pot and he found Jesus Christ...
It bothers Kem a lot when I cuss...especially if I manage to drag his heavenly Father into the mix which I quite often do. I do try to watch my language around Kem. The main reason he wants me to go to Church Camp is so that I might find Jesus too..even while he smokes his joint...but the other reason he wants me there is so that I can help the youngsters catch some fish. I enjoy that immensely and that is why I go
This year I hoped my 16 year old son, Rip, might be of some help getting 12 6-8 year olds baited up and their poles in the water on the side of the bank and keeping their lines from becoming impossibly entangled, but Rip was more interested this year in collecting tiny frogs on the bank and putting them in a Gatorade bottle.
They were a smarmy slimy mess in there and in the 100 degree heat I kept begging him to get rid of that bottle and give me a hand with all these kids.
It took about 30 minutes to get everyone baited and in the water.
One of the young-uns, Joshua "fit the Battle" I called him, looked up to me and says:
"Thanks Mr. Steve, You sure look hot"
'Thirsty too" I replied.
I was sweating like a Pig and I reached for my drink. My eyes were stinging as the sweat rolled into them and I pressed my lips to my once cool bottle of Gatorade.
I tilted my head back....
...As the first frog passed my tongue I knew there was something wrong. I froze in mid-gulp. There had been no Frogs in my Gatorade before and as the next Frog entered my mouth...
....I knew what was happening....I had accidently grabbed the Gatorade bottle Rip had been doing his little Biological Swamp Torture Experiment in... and now I had a mouthful of frogs in frog juice.
In front of God and Kem and 12 little Church camp Kids I spat the vile liquid out of my mouth and let loose with a
"GODDAMMIT"
that echoed up and down the Lake.
All heads turn to me, and up till now I have been the figure of charity and compassion and a mentor to some of the nicest little boys and girls you would ever want to meet and generally a good influence.
But I see Kem out of the corner of my eye and hear him whisper very loudly
"Steve, please, watch your mouth"
Well, that did it for me and I turned to him and said quite loudly
"KEM, WOULD YOU GIVE ME A FUCKING BREAK, JUST ONE TIME?"
And all 12 of those kids just cracked up!!!

I owe Rip one... I do.... and I'm gonna get him good!

FATHERS DAY

The second of two poems I found in my fathers belongings...the first was Barefoot Boy...
This one works very well for Fathers Day and I have passed it on to my son, the Rip.

If
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;


If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

RUDYARD KIPLING

THE UNIVERSE ALONE

I've been wanting to post this for some time now...Water Baby brought it home for homework a while back...how is it that we get behind on what we want to post?

The Most Of It
He thought he kept the universe alone;
For all the voice in answer he could wake
Was but the mocking echo of his own
From some tree–hidden cliff across the lake.
Some morning from the boulder–broken beach
He would cry out on life, that what it wants
Is not its own love back in copy speech,
But counter–love, original response.
And nothing ever came of what he cried
Unless it was the embodiment that crashed
In the cliff's talus on the other side,
And then in the far distant water splashed,
But after a time allowed for it to swim,
Instead of proving human when it neared
And someone else additional to him,
As a great buck it powerfully appeared,
Pushing the crumpled water up ahead,
And landed pouring like a waterfall,
And stumbled through the rocks with horny tread,
And forced the underbrush—and that was all.
robert frost


So is it enough in this life to see a stately Buck cross a lake and crash into the underbrush?
Maybe.
Sometimes.
This weekend the Rip and I went camping and fishing.
What a weekend...I am sunburned and sore...we caught a lot of fish, but they were all small....I spent too much time hunkered over a campfire cooking, and can hardly stand up straight.
Saw many Redwing Blackbirds, which are a very pretty bird and quite rare down here.
Fed a baby Rabbit Corn on the Cob and he proceeded to do tricks for us not 5 feet away. I named him Mr. Jingles like the Mouse from "The Green Mile".
It ain't natural for a Rabbit to come up on humans that way.
Between the yearling bass, the Red Wings and the Rabbit, we had a very good time.
They were enough.

RIP TELLS THE TRUTH

Like I said, if I had eyes like this, I would be irrestible. That is the Truth.

The Xmrs Bulletholes called me in tears several years ago....
“Rip and I have had a horrible fight... (sniffle, sniffle)
He went and locked himself in his room...(whimper)"
"I was making dinner and I thought ‘I’ll just let him be, because the fight was so b-b-bad....and I know that I get too intense sometimes”

So I said as kindly as possible, because she was very upset “Thats good, but we give you lots of reasons to be that way, but I’m sure you did the right thing. Please , go on...”

‘Thank you. But when I went to get him from his room, the door was blocked by a chair.”
“Oh?”
‘So I just said ‘Rip, come to dinner” and gave him a minute.”
‘So why are you so upset, Honey?”
“Don’t call me “Honey”.... well, he didn’t come out so I went back, only now I was mad again because I had been being nice and I pounded on the door and it opened a little....”
“Yes?”
‘And it smelled like there was Marijuana in his room. Oh God, he’s too young to smoke Pot!”
‘So what did you do”
‘I broke the door down , and he was sitting on his bed and I said “Rip, are you smokin’ Pot in here?”.
“And what did he do?”
‘He said “DAMN RIGHT I AM” and took another hit”
and over the phone, she just went to pieces.

It was wrong, but I could not help but bust out laughin’. It was the first time Rip had not tried to lie about what he was doin’.

BOY OVERBOARD

So does anyone remember the opening scene from “Terms of Endearment” where Shirley McLane is convinced something is wrong with her child, who is fast asleep in her crib? She goes into the room and shakes the infant until it wakes up crying, and now reassured the child is still alive she says to herself "that’s better" and leaves the room?

This reminds the Waterbaby and I a lot of the behavior of the XMrs Bulletholes, bless her heart. Without her, the whole family would be in trouble. Big trouble.

My son Rippy, or Rip for short, has been able to walk since he was about 2 months old. You have never seen a child so quick to his feet, so quick to climb up the sheer face of a 10 Story Building, so quick to drive a car or lock himself into a room with another 3 year old girl to do a little smoochin’.
He has been sayin' 'I'm the Man" since he could talk.

When he was 3 months old, we took him to a July 4th Pool Party. I swear the lad could almost swim.
At some point during the party, the X-Mrs Bulletholes comes running to me her eyes like saucers, her hair stuck out like she's ridin' a Zephyr or Bustin' a Bronc' with one hand flailing, the ozone smell of Static Electricity in the air around her...
“Have you seen Rip? Rip is gone, he’s missing I can’t find him, OH GOD he must be drowned, he’s dead I can’t live without him; issue an 'Amber Alert"”

My own heart skips a beat, but when the X gets into this mode, one scarcely has time to process one barrage before the next one comes.

“Clear the Pool, we have to clear the Pool”....she is right in my face now, and has me with the flailing hand by the collar ‘Call the Fire Department , call the Police, call somebody , we need an Ambulance...why is the pool not cleared? and where is that Amber Alert”

The Party has stopped in midair and the Heavens and Earth have ceased all movement.
I clear my throat so that I can yell “Clear the Pool” but I am too slow...

“CLEAR THE POOL” she yells and looks at me like “why aren’t you doing anything”, but the fact of the matter is that there has only been about 5 seconds pass since she started this tirade and I am dumbstruck.
She is very, very intense.

She still has me by the collar, her eyes are spinning like crazy Kaleidoscopes and I am a little afraid she is going to smack me one with her other hand to clear my cobwebs when I notice...
She is cradling something in her other hand, and that something happens to be her lost son, Rip.

“Honey, I think I found him...”
‘Where? Tell me where is my Child”
I point to her other arm where he is safely nestled, and fast asleep.
“Oh, Thank God” she says "You have to help me watch him"
AND SHE SMACKED ME ANYWAY, JUST FOR GOOD MEASURE!

You may think this is a story about Xmrs bulletholes, but it says more about Rip.

A CHIP OFF THE OLD BLOCK

I got a call at work last week...
"Mr. Renfro, this is Vice-Pricipal Hamm from Bell High School and I need to talk to you about your son, Lee.
I respond with...
"What are the charges"
He answers back with nervous laughter...
"No, there are no charges Mr. Renfro, not this time. I want you to know that in his Computer Graphics Class he is doing so well that the teacher says he can teach the class, he finishes every thing in 1/4 the time allotted and its done perfectly. We want to take him to Austin for an event but he doesn't seem to want to be recognized for this. Do you have any suggestions?"
I answer back...
"Well I will talk to the boy and try to explain that this talent he has can buy him a lot of Guitar Equipment and pay his way towards becoming the next great Rock & Roll star of our time."
I'm thinking to myself that Mr. Hamm has the degree in this, and certainly this is not his first time to see this behavior, this sudden shyness whEn accolades are finally coming his way.

The boy is talented in Computer Graphics and Design and draws some of the most intricately detailed little doodles by hand that you have ever seen. Some look as though they were a map of Gaea herself with all her gears and windings and cables exposed like a blueprint. He is also a pretty good little guitar player, and that is where his efforts all go.

So I go to Lee and tell him that it was real nice to get a phone call like that and that no matter how "Retarded" he thinks the class is, it is a talent that can be turned into "Rocks". (money)
This, he understands. Why he wants to cut up in class to the point of getting sent to the office weekly, I can't figure. Even I knew when to quit.

I am afraid he gets it from me and I have already alluded to how much my little sense of humor has cost me.
There was a cool post a few days ago by the Ol'Lady http://eclectictales.blogspot.com/ concerning her name. My son is named after my fathers middle name, Rippy and my middle name, Lee.
Lee Rippy Renfro.
I wanted to name him Rippy Lee, but his mother would not allow it. He will likely never forgive her for that, he may even get it changed some day.
We call him "Rip". Rip Renfro. He loves it. That should tell you everything you need to know.

Mother of Invention, you are a teacher. How do we get a boy that wants to be notorious for misdeeds to live up to his potential?