Death and Night and Blood

‘Let Me Introduce You to the Family’ (continued):

Our parish priest tried to grope me when I was 13 years old, but I had been boxing and wrestling in CYO junior leagues since I was 11, and I was already 5’10", built and tough (if it wasn’t his ‘gaydar’ that turned him on about me in the first place, I was the only kid in my class with a defined six-pack). All I had to do was hit him once in the midsection with a left jab, and he crumbled, gasping, to the floor (and soon after, disappeared from the parish altogether, never to be heard from again). No one ever talked about him after that either, least of all me. I kept it a complete secret for years until I finally told a shrink.

I only go to church for the sake of my mother who really doesn’t ask a whole lot of me, but worries too much about the outcome for my eternal soul if I don’t go because of the deaths of both my uncle, her baby brother, and her only other child, my older brother (who died in the Army in Germany after an Autobahn accident almost five years ago). My brother’s birthday was just six weeks ago. He would have been 24.

He was a hard ass Army Ranger, a wrestler himself, who used to beat me up all the time when I was growing up (to make me stronger, I guess). I don’t know if he was straight or gay or bi or what. Our parents got him a cell phone because so many girls were always calling him all the time, and they/we got tired of taking his messages, but one of his high school teammates was sure disconsolate when he died. I remember, at the funeral home, my mom had to put her grief aside just to deal with his.

My dad’s real cool, a big-deal lawyer. He’s unflappable. He has a droll wit, but he’s really crack-up funny when he wants to be. You can joke around with him. He knows a lot about wine and has literally thousands of bottles, stored in the cellar of our house back home. He drinks single malt Scotch and smokes cigars, too. He also has great taste in cars. Right now he has a Maserati Cambiocorsa, which he lets me drive sometimes. Like I said, he’s cool.

I’ve already mentioned one uncle (my mother’s
baby brother). He was handsome, athletic, an actor and professional musician, but he was gay and died of AIDS in San Francisco in the late 1980s before I was born, so I never got to meet him. Evidently my mom doted on him when they were growing up. Everyone has always told me how much I remind them of him, and how my coming along when I did gave my mom a new lease on life.

I’ve also got another uncle, older, on my mother’s side, but we seldom see him. He retired at age 50, and he and his wife live on Captiva Island in Florida. My father also has an older brother whom we see all the time. He lives upstate, and he and his wife come down to the beach regularly. They used to stay with us. My parents built a loft-style, guest apartment over the garage for them to use, but in time they bought their own cottage in the more fashionable part of town where they have friends.

So my brother moved into the garage apartment and turned it into his teenage fuck pad. He put in a king size waterbed and custom built stereo, which because it’s about fifty feet from the house, he could play as loud as he wanted. It also has a sleek, Italian-made kitchenette and a smallish bathroom with a shower that my parents originally put in.

I live there now. It’s been my crib at the beach for the past three years. The first year after my brother died was hard, there’s no getting around that, and no one touched anything in the room for the longest time, but left it just as my brother had left it.

Eventually, though, I started to go there and began to play all the records, tapes and CDs that my brother had inherited from our uncle as well as his own stuff. I did it respectfully, especially when I played his favorite music, metal and punk rock, and if there is a spirit world (and I’ve got other reasons to think there is, by the way), I think maybe I placated his spirit.

One last thing I should tell you about me, before I have to close for today, is I’ve got ADHD/Dyslexia in a major (and majorly annoying) way. So, for just one example, the last time, I mentioned how my hip, kewl, krazy aunt (my dad’s youngest sister) is taking me to Ibiza, and I said she got us VIP tickets at €50 a pop to the twentieth anniversary party at a club I called ‘Infinity;’ well, that’s actually a club called ‘Space,’ but my fucking brain, as usual, processed the data wrong. (Space = Infinity. Makes sense, I guess, but who knows?)

My parents took me to see lots of specialists from about age 10 on because I also pulled my dick a lot, which disturbed my mother no end. I think that was actually due to my infantile libido making its presence known, but ADHD was the only thing the doctors seemed able to agree on. I’ve been seeing a psychiatrist, and taking Ritalin and Adderall for it, ever since.

My current fave writer, Edward St Aubyn, the author of my last two signatures, said something else that kind of applies to how I currently feel about doctors and medication. He said, and I’m paraphrasing, that until they perfect the brain transplant, the only good thing you can get from a doctor is morphine.

That’s it for today. I promise I’ll wrap up my ‘family matters’ next time. Speaking of ‘family,’ though, did anyone click the link I left in a ‘Comment’ to my last blog entry? It's a New York Times story about the death and life of Dash Snow. Check it if you haven’t already; it’s well written, but talk about a fucked-up family! It just goes to show, money can’t buy either happiness or mental health.

Let’s close today’s lesson with another selection from… the Stranglers, shall we? Catch you on the flip side, brothers and sisters.
Cheers!

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

When I saw that sparkle
In his eyes, young death is good!

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

And we decided, than to die
There was no greater love

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

Hey, little baby
Don't you lean down low
Your brain's exposed
And it's starting to show
Your rotten thoughts, ye-uck!

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

I was attracted to a night
Torchlight parade, and there I came

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

Home is a black leather jacket
Fitting sweetly to my brain

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

Hey, little baby
Don't you lean down low
Your brain's exposed
And it's starting to show
Your rotten thoughts, ye-uck!

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

I will force my body to be
My weapon and my statement, so

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

Hey, little baby
Don’t you lean down low
Your brain’s exposed
And it’s starting to show
Your rotten thoughts, ye-uck!

Death and night and blood
Death and night and blood

The Stranglers Death and Night and Blood (Yukio) Black and White (1978)

Comments

"Our parish priest tried to grope me when I was 13 years old, but I had been boxing and wrestling in CYO junior leagues since I was 11, and I was already 5’10", built and tough (if it wasn’t his ‘gaydar’ that turned him on about me in the first place, I was the only kid in my class with a defined sixpack). All I had to do was hit him once in the midsection with a left jab, and he crumbled, gasping, to the floor (and soon after, disappeared from the parish altogether, never to be heard from again). No one ever talked about him after that either, least of all me. I kept it a complete secret for years until I finally told a shrink."

Wow. You must've hit his prostate. :biggrin1:
 
wed 21st i think
mmmmmmmmm
what can i say
first off i APOLOGIZE profusely for not understanding a blog; and not reading this and all the other entrys a month ago
never noticed or knew it existed to be honest..ignorance i geuss
so i have been wondering Why? ...prep'
maybe its irrereprable? oh well i tried...
I will leave it at that ..for now
G
another perhaps final e will follow
 
.... and if there is a spirit world (and I’ve got other reasons to think there is, by the way), I think maybe I placated his spirit.

This is interesting. Very.
 

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