When I was 17 or 18, my step dad (dad) asked my grandfather (mom's dad) how old was too old to spanked, in front of a family get together. My grandfather went into story about getting spanked (BUTT BEATEN WITH SWITCH/BRANCHES) when he gave his father a smart-*** look at the age of 18. The great-grandfather had 6 boys & no time to fool around.
My dad's challenge was that he really did not care-for/love me so I really didn't care for most of his input. I was fairly well behaved, but I would rebel when opportunity presented itself, not because something irritated me-I felt like I hated him for years.
He got the whole package when he married mom, I was a 9 year old heavy baggage.
To his credit, Dad took whatever opportunity he saw to teach and raise me which was a chore for both of us for 9 years. We hardly ever saw eye to eye, he was rarely understanding, so I usually tried to just stay out of his way. I never wanted for clothes, food, or heat. Dad often tried to bond with me, but we were way to different besides our roles in life.
Dad had no social couth, little patience, very bad anger problems, insecurity (relationship with mom) and possibly an inferiority-complex that drove him to over-excel. I thought he was a tyrant-to hear mom now, he probably still is.
He was in complete control/very-responsible of his alcohol consumption, which was a great blessing because I helped drive that man to drink. The consumption could have fueled much worse beatings, but they never did. Usually, every beating I got was well deserved. I did allot of things simply to piss him off because I could not improve upon the situation I was in living under his home/rules. Dad was a much larger framed man, Vietnam Vet, college wrestler, and he always worked out several times a week. When I got older, I would have to be extremely pissed off with him to physically challenge him because I knew I would loose painfully. There are times when it is worth it despite the loss.
Maybe some of you guys remember my previous posts of burning off his eyebrows, laughing at him getting burned accidently other times, or embarrassing him in front of his uppity co-workers. I have no qualms about the belt because I was an asshole kid sometimes-most often without being disrespectful, merely creative.
For a long time I thought my stepdad was a real prick telling me over and over that at 14 he was going to kick me out of the house at 21
at 15 "I'm kicking you out at age 20." "Okay."
at 16 , 19
at 17, 18 -Then I argued with him, had some attitude, but only to the point of defending myself. "I told him no you're not, (18 would have been at the early onset of my last year in highschool) -I said " I am going to graduate and then I am out of here, you won't have to kick me out because I'll be gone." Two days after graduating, I was on a long greyhound ride to college, with grandparents & relatives shuttling me around some.
Preventative planning: The family had come up with a plan for me because my biological father was trouble, and I had allot of that in me. I was well behaved, but I instigated some ****-storms.
The plan was that every summer as a kid (age 9-18+) I got to get away from home and go work for my grandfather on his small cattle ranch (gov financed vets after WW2- $75 a month for the land until the 70's)
I dug fence post six feet deep in caliche clay, (Caliche is a hardened deposit of sand or clay cemented by calcium carbonate in arid regions, usually roots do not penetrate it)
for his cattle fence posts. Hard work. I had to cut mesquite trees with an axe & I cleared out cactus with giant axe-reaper. We worked the cattle as well. The work netted me money, more privileges, freedom, and different rules & boundaries. It helped with the transition to leave home & earn a living. My grandfather and I got along well because I knew that he loved me. It was easy to listen to him preach advise all day long, all week long, all summer long, because I knew that he cared.
My parents had another great idea, they made me save 3/4's of every dollar I ever earned to use when I left home. It went towards a few semesters of flunking college.
I did not want to go to college, but my family all worked their way thru college when blue-collar labor could pay for school and every single adult insisted that I do the same thing- I wasn't mature enough for that independence yet and I knew it.
Mom gave me some money when I left home but it dwindled down to zero at such a quick rate that most of you guys might approve.
On my own money got tight & times were tough, I never called to family for help even though I could because they always preached to me as a kid about earning your way and being proud enough to do it.
The hardest thing about striking out on my own was trusting people like I was still in Nebraska when I was a few hours from the southern most border. I got ripped off allot and there wasn't any consequences for criminals almost every time. Ripped off when near-broke is a hard thing to handle over and over again.
At my lowest point before I joined the Navy I paid all my bills and had $7 to eat with for four weeks. I traded baby-sitting for a cooked meal, ramen was 15 cents, a loaf of bread was 59 cents, and a log of peel-the-plastic baloney was only a few bucks.
Everything after the first few years was easy after that, except the first year on board the submarine, which I was prepared for.
Funny note, I made such a small income when I started out that the Navy audited my taxes for years prior to service for my clearance, not the IRS, the Navy.
