So, it is 10:09pm and I am in my Allentown office on a Saturday night. It has been a full day, so writing at this computer is actually relaxing me at this moment. Let's begin....
My family has always been "crazy", in MY eyes. My Dad is a Pastor, so that makes me a PK (pastor's kid, and it has been said we are ALWAYS the worst ones). He stressed discipline and education; to the point he would, actually, stop our summer vacations midway and have us do homework from HIS old elementary/high school textbooks. I guess he figured that since we were at home alot, we had time to study (and clean).
We, actually, had to learn multiplication tables up to the 15's where everyone else was taught 1-12; and like a drill instructor, it was very common, in our household, to be asked, literally, at ANY moment, to recite any of the "time tables" in sequence. For example, early in the morning at breakfast, "Fonzo, say your 6 time tables"; at dinner, "Fonzo, say your 11 time tables"; in the car heading to the grocery store, "Fonzo, what's 13 times 10?" During that time, it was torturous, because my brothers, sisters, and I NEVER knew when he would come at us with that request. My Mom had the knack for punishing us, when we misbehaved, by making us write book reports and essays. You may say, "Was that it?" but you don't know how often I got into trouble. I wrote enough to publish volumes.
My Dad was a strict taskmaster. He didn't "play" at all. Well, he did, but sometimes I think the stress of having so many children at a young age got to him. He loves to tell the story of being 21 years old and landing in Pittsburgh, PA with one child in his arms (me), another on the way, and having only $5.00 in his pocket. I always used this story as an inspiration in life. Last Christmas, when he came for a visit, he, actually, told me he wished he had done as I have and waited, traveled, and experienced more of life before starting a family.
My Pops DID believe in corporal punishment. The term that used to strike fear in the hearts of my siblings and I was, "Go get the belt." He followed, the comedian, Bill Cosby's ideal," I brought you into this world and I'll take you out. Plus, I can make another one just like you." BUT he took it one step further, and stated he would rather "whoop" us now and KNOW when we had had enough, rather than us be in someone's jail and get beat by strangers who WOULDN'T stop. (Many people see the term "whoopin'" and "beating" and think "child abuse". I can, honestly, say this: If not for many of those "whoopin's" I, more than likely, would be, currently, incarcerated, apart of the penal system, or dead.) I have NEVER been in prison, did drugs, been drunk, or had any legitimate or illegitimate babies. Yeah, men like me DO exist but they say I am a dying breed. Go figure....
Dad constantly used the mantra: "For every action there is a consequence"; and during my times of corporate punishment "sessions", I used to hate when he asked, "Why are you getting punished now?" So, I would have to explain to him what I did wrong and why I did it. The "WHY" explanation was always the hardest and he would seem to get irritated if I used the term, "I don't know." Yet, it, also, gave me a chance to plead my case and try to get out of the "beating". Believe it or not, I plead my case once, and, surprisingly, won. Pops asked me to give him a reason why I think I shouldn't be given a "whoopin'" at this time and I said because, "Today I was better than I was yesterday." A funny look came over his face and he said,"Okay" and I was allowed to go on my merry way. I used to have dreams of being an attorney after that. (Well, actually, the President of the United States, because I told my Dad, that was what I was aspiring to be. Too bad Obama beat me to it.)
It is amazing to me when I think about how much mischief I got into as a child and through my teens. My Dad always tells me I NEVER got into trouble for WHAT I did, but because I lied about it. It got to the point that I would lie about simple things: "Fonzo, did you take a bath?"; "Fonzo, did you put on deodorant?"; "Fonzo, did you take out the garbage?" My parents would, actually, "sniff" me before I went to school or went to bed at night to see if they smelled soap and many times they didn't. (Unsure why I HATED taking baths/showers. I would run a nice hot tub of H2O and just sit on the toilet and read a magazine/book. Talk about being scared of water. Well, that was until I discovered girls.) My Dad now laughs about the lies and tells everyone that it would be different if I was a GOOD liar or a DECENT liar, but I always got caught because I was not "slick" at all. He tells me my eyes would get big and I'd start twitching. He claims I would look like Denzel Washington when he was captured and brought in from the rain in the 1980's movie, A Soldier's Story. It's like the song lyric, "It's written all over your face. You don't have to say a word." So, my career as a thief, con man, or any type of lawbreaker would have probably been short lived.
Today, I think about those quirky things my family had me do and smile. Alot of those tedious essays, reports, and math problem recitals excercised my brain power which help me during my business transactions today; and those "sessions" got my attention and made me think about the consequences/repercussions I would and could face in the REAL world for my decisions. It may not have been fun "back in the day", but I am thankful for those lessons now.
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