NO, I AIN'T NUTS

Whew. Finally out of the house, not much money in my pocket, was able to get some clothes and a few personal items. With the help of mu girlfriend and my friend Ron, I will make the best of what I have and get on with my life. I was working at a small quick printer, not much money coming in, so I started a pop and candy concession at the print shop, on the honor system. This was doing quite well, I was able to bring in about $50 to $75 a week. One morning I was walking out the front door of my friend Ron's house with 2 cases of pop in my arms, when I saw 2 police men at my car. They ask me my name, and after confirmation, they said you have to come along with us. I ask what this all about, they said you are being taken to a psychiatric ward for observation. When I got to the nut house, they ask me if I told my dad that I was depressed. I said yeah, after all my mom just died and my dad was making false allegations about stealing things. They told me that my dad filed a report with them alleging that I was suicidal and that I was on drugs. I of course denied the charges, but they told me that when a complaint is filed by a "loved" one, all subjects must be taken in for observation. For a week I stayed at the nut house, at the end of it all there was a hearing to determine if I was a hazard to my self or someone else. They determined that although I seamed troubled, I was no hazard. Boy, I thought to myself, I wished that I had a chance to put my dad in a place like this, they would have a field day figuring him out. Back to getting my life on track. My job was doing well, so I decided to go back to my old print shop teacher, to tell him how I was doing. I hardly said 2 words to him, when he started asking some very odd questions. "Are you doing well with your cocaine addition,are you off heroin yet?" I said what are you talking about? Mr Mo replied, well your dad was in here a few weeks ago, and he was quite upset, I think he might have been crying. He told me all about your stealing from him to pay for your drug habits, all I want is for you to get better. I tried to tell Mr. Mo about the situation, but he did not want to hear about it, he only said well, your dad said that you would deny your drug habit, and that denial is the first symptom of addiction. I said denial is also the first symptom of someone that has been slandered. That is how I left, the teacher that started my carrier in printing. I called my grandmother, and got about the same response. She also told my dad that she didn't believe him. He responded, who would know better, a farther who watched his every emotion from when he was a baby or his grandmother who only saw her grandson part of the time. I guess that statement and the fake crying convinced her. I tried to tell her bout how he abused her daughter, but she said stop making that stuff up, just to get back at your father. I saw a pattern of slander, so I called "dad" Volstoncroft up to see if my (biological) dad got to him. He said, my dad did call him, but he really didn't believe him. He also said that if I were to petition the Mason's for member ship that I would be black balled because even though he believed in me the other Masons that my dad called feel where there is smoke there is fire, and they would not take a chance on my membership. I also called my ex-girlfriend Lorna, she said my dad call her and her mother, but they told my dad that he was crazy and that if I had any emotional problems, they were caused by him. I did not want to hear if my dad called my old assistant scout master, it would have been too hard to hear him talk about how bad my alleged dug abuse was. About a month went by, when I got a summons to appear before a magistrate, to face charges of assault and battery. I got to the hearing early, my lawyer did not show up yet. I had a chance to talk to the "impartial" magistrate. I ask, what would happen if I just pled guilty, would I just pay a fine, be assigned probation? He said,"If you plead guilty, I will throw you in jail for the maxim sentence, your dad told me about how you stole from him to pay for your drug habit, right after your mother died. I throw punks like you in jail every day, with a smile on my face." Yep I can see I am going to get a fair hearing from him. My lawyer was a no show, and we had to reschedule the hearing. Upon telling my lawyer about the conversation with a magistrate, he said we will take this to the county court, where your dad will not be able to get to the judge, since they only assign the judge on the day of the hearing. At the county court house, my lawyer got a plea bargain, charges reduce to simple assault, 6 months probation plus a fine and court costs. I took it, even though I was not guilty. I found out later, why my dad gave me all these problems, ya see I only had so much time to contest my mom's will. As long as I was kept busy, time was expiring, the second reason was to keep in fear of what he might do next if I caused him any problems contesting the will. My dad never knew how to play chess, but he sure knew how to play people and the system.

The Gorilla Football Player

I only have this story on blog, to show some of the stupid decisions we make when we are young. The year was 1987, and I had moved out of my dad house for about 6 months. There were about 5 of us guys sitting around Ron's house. Our recently married friend, nick named Kirmet, because his last name was similar to the famous frog, pulled up and he ran out of his car, yelling something like you guys got to help me. So we ask what was wrong. He said his new wife was already cheating on him, with this guy who was a semi-pro 260lb football player, who played center. He said that he was going out, but had only pretended. He came back and went to the basement of the apartment building he was living in, and had a wire tap on his phone. He said the guy was coming over in about an hour and he wanted us to beat him up. Well, not one of us was over 200lbs, so the guys were getting some weapons. Ron had a lead pipe, someone picked up a baseball bat, chains, razor knives and brass knuckles were grabbed. Ron ask me if I was going, but a little voice in my head said NO. It was the same voice that told me to put my seat belt on when I flipped my car. They all got some sort of masks, and their weapons and took off, leaving me alone in the house. I started thinking that they will all be back telling their stories about how they beat this guy up, and then ask me why didn't I help. After pondering this for about 15min, I went against my better judgment, and drove to the stake out point. They knew this guy would have to park in the parking lot which had only one entrance, so the circled the lot and would pounce on him from all directions. The car pulls into the lot. He gets out and starts to walk toward the apartment, when the signal was given, and we all sprang from the woods surrounding the lot. I did not have a weapon or a mask, so I took my shirt off and covered my face and head only leaving a narrow slit for my eyes. Well, it turned out nobody wanted to make the first contact, and this guy saw he was out numbered and did a little foot ball move and ran toward the apartments yelling call the police. Somebody yelled, trash his car. His car was like a ratty 1970's nova or something, it already looked like trash. But we smashed his wind shield and 1 headlight, and all of us ran over the hill into deep woods before the cops showed up. As we, the 6 masked men with weapons were running down the hill we could hear footsteps behind us. and this guy yelling I am going to kill you mother fuckers. The hill got very steep and we all started to fall. As I started to get up, I saw this gorilla football player straddling my friend Ron. He was punching him into the dirt, and I says to myself, I got to help Ron. I got behind the guy and put a triangular choke hold (thanks my Judo training) and to make it worse I put my foot into his back, and choked as hard as I could. My friend Ron scurried out from under. The next thing I saw was Ron lifting his lead pipe in the air, I pulled my head back as far as I could, because I didn't want blood or brains hitting my face. The next thing I knew everything went black for a second, and I saw Ron raising the bloody lead pipe to strike again. It was me that he hit, and I was not going to wait for a second strike, so I let go of the gorilla, and rolled over the hill. My shirt on my head was all bloody, so I threw it in a trash can, and visited my ex-girlfriend who also lived in the complex with her brother. Her brother answered the door and said how did you get fucked up, then the police started to arrive. I said let me in and get cleaned up so I could get out. I did not tell him much, but he gave me a shirt, I got cleaned up and left. I drove back to Ron's house, I was the first there, and again I was alone. I started thinking, did they get picked up by the police, are they coming to pick me up now? Why did I go? I knew I should have listened to that voice. About 45min later the 5 other guys came in, and they looked a mess. I said what happened did that guy put up that much of a fight. They said no, but while this guy laid on the ground, they were all pounding on him. There was not enough room left on this guy to hit, so they actually were inadvertently hit each other. The football player was taken to the hospital, needless to say his football and adultery carrier was over. I ask Ron why did you hit me? He said, you weren't supposed to be there, and I didn't know who you were, your face and head were covered. I said the only thing you should have known is that I was the guy helping you from getting beaten, why would you hit the guy helping you? He said, I guess I just got carried away in the excitement. Now for years I felt a little guilty, about the beating this guy, but 2 things came to mind, when you fuck with another mans wife, things like this do happen, and sometimes worse. And 2 why would you run into the woods after 6 mask men with weapons just tried to jump you? After all the only damage done was a cracked windshield and bad light, that should have been enough of warning. I guess like everyone there, we were in out 20's and the testosterone took over.
    Life at Ron's was like the movie Animal House. I was the only one that had a steady job, everyone else was in some sort of construction business. There were 3 to 4 bachelors living there at any one time, just about everyone had some sort of hard luck story. When times were good, for construction, everyone had money for booze and beer parties. The neighbors, called the cops on the house several times due to the noise. My friend Ron got back at them by throwing even bigger parties with beer kegs and partiers on the porch roofs, he also invited the son of the neighbors, so they would stop calling the cops. At one of the parties some guy egged Ron into playing Russian roulette. Ron said, so you want to see me play Russian roulette, sure so he picked up his revolver, loaded 1 shot then put it to his head, pulled the trigger...click. Then Ron said your turn, pointed the gun at the other guy and pulled the trigger, click again. Needless to say the guy did not stick around for round 2. Since I had some income, I carpeted and repainted my room, installed a ceiling fan, and refinished the fire place. I tried to get cable, but because the other people in the house did not pay their cable bills, the cable co. would not hook it up to my room. I called the cable co from my work place and they said if I could provide a rent receipt from Ron, that they would hook up the cable. So I called Ron on the phone, and he was acting very strange, he did not say much, long pauses, not answering my questions. I ask him is this a bad time to talk, he said yep and hung up the phone. I came home to find shot gun blasts in the floor in the ceiling, bullet holes in the walls, blood spots on the dining room table, on the walls, floor. I ask what in the hell happened? He said you know how we all place money in the drawer to pay for food, soap, cleaning supplies etc., well someone has been stealing it. I wrote all the serial numbers down, and we found the guy with the some of the bills in his wallet. We chased him around the house, shooting at him but I just wanted to scare him so I deliberately missed. I said what about the blood. He said well scaring him didn't seem to be a good enough deterrent, made him write a confession for stealing, then made him place his hands on the table, then we whacked his hands with a hammer. I didn't know the guy, he was one of the guys that worked with Ron on construction. Ron said when I called he had a 45 pointed at this guys head, while he was writing out the confession. Ron had a reputation for doing dirty deeds. I never saw him do anything, but he would have gobs of money in the middle of winter, he said it was from doing "night work" He told me he did freelance collections for the mob. He told me that the mob ask him to do "the big one", but he always refused, because he said if he did, then the mob would own him. I never ask about his "night work", but I tried to get him to stop. Ron would say, I never did anything to anybody that was innocent. These guys knew who they were borrowing money from, and they knew what would happen if the did not pay it back. I got into a few fights, trying to help friends out, but for the most part I stayed out of trouble. The other bachelor, would have a parties in his room until 5 am. I had to work the next day, so I waited until he was trying to sleep off the booze. I put all my stereo speakers toward his room and at 7 AM I blasted him with John Phillip Suesa march music, that would be the last thing you would want to hear when you have a hang over. This same guy came in the house another time at 3 AM and started making all kinds of noise down stairs. Ron came out of his room, and told him to keep it down or get out of the house. This guy was drunk, and said you just think you're so tough, why don't you come down and make me. Ron wearing only a towel, some how produced his 45 and shot 2 shots in the floor. The drunk guy was out of the house in a flash, he didn't come back for several days to give Ron a chance to cool down. For me the only trouble I got into was with girls. I had very little respect for females at the time, maybe from my upbringing. I was going steady with Mary, the girl that has stuck by my side through thick and thin, but I still cheated on her. My dad once told me not to burn my Bridgets behind me, so I had Bridget come over a few times, I also met up with a stripper while I was there, she was 12 years older than me, but she knew how to take care of a man. As chaotic as it sounds, everyone living at Ron's, had a set of common values. Never abuse or harass the innocent, never get involved in family feuds, never do something that will bring the law to the house, and if you do something wrong be prepared to do the time. Never lie to Ron. After 2 years at Ron's house, the police raids, the parties, I thought it was time I moved out. I rented a duplex and Mary moved in with me. Since my life was back on track, I thought that maybe I could patch things up with my dad. I talked with my dad at his house. He seamed to be back to "normal" but after a few times of going out with him, he said, I can't keep seeing you until you go to drug rehab. He took me to a support meeting where there were all kinds of people on all kinds of drugs. I found my self being hugged by heroin users, saying don't worry man we will be here to support you, while you kick the habit. Afterward I told my dad, I am not going back there, I am not on drugs, and never had been. We got into an argument, and I stopped talking to him again. Mary and me moved again into a rented house. About a month after moving in, I ran into an old friend. My friend told me that he was talking to my dad. He said my dad told him he had cancer, and he said I think he was crying. My friend said I don't know what your differences are with your dad, but if he has cancer, you should try to patch things up before he dies. So I called my dad, and guess what, no cancer. We talked for a while, and started seeing each other on the weekends. In 1991 I bought a small printing press and put it into my basement. This was the start of my business. One day my dad brought down some of my old military models, he also brought down some of my old comic books and even some family pictures, then he said by the way social security, sent me a letter, if you sign it I can get more money from them. So I signed it. The police called my house one day, they said that they were at my dads house and that if I didn't come over and vouch for him that he would be hauled off to a psychiatric ward. They said that my dad was talking to this guy and during the conversation my dad said he wanted to be with his wife. The guy said where is your wife, to which my dad replied why she is dead. This guy called the police for a suicide threat. When the got to the house, they found that my dad has not thrown anything away for years. Stuff like banana peels, egg shells, used cleanex, his house was filled with garbage from floor to ceiling, bugs crawling around every where. I had to promise the police that I would help my dad clean up the house, otherwise they were going to take him to the nut house. I made the mistake of vouching for my dad. This might have been the only time that he could have got help. It seemed at the time that if I let him go to the nut house, that I would be seeking vengeance on him. We were staring to patch up our relationship, or so I thought. My dad then started to borrow money from me, but would not pay me back. When I pressed him for the money, his answer was I guess you need the money more than me. I stopped "lending" him money and thing went down hill from there. He would say things like, I know why you won't admit to stealing from me, because I heard quote from a guy that said if you admit to doing something then you are weak, and I know your not weak, do you know who said that? I said no, who would say something like that. He said Ted Bundy, and Ted Bundy wasn't weak and neither are you. I hung up the phone. At the same time Mary had settled into domestic life. After knowing her for now about 9 years she went from 5'1" 115 lbs to 5'1" 167 lbs. I didn't want to see her naked, I didn't want to go to bed with her, so I broke up with her. Outside of Mary getting as big as a house, I started to like her sister, Sue. Sue and I had gotten fairly close, but it was all plutonic. Mary was a quitter when it came to problems, but Sue would do something about it. Sue read several motivational books on her own, like the magic of believing, how to win friends and influence people, etc. These were books that I had read, but Mary wanted no parts of them. Mary read the torrid romance novels with a half naked men (Fabio) on the front covers. When we went out I always tried to get Sue to go with us. It got to a point where Sue was able to finish my sentences. The trouble with Sue is that she always attracted nice guys, but were slackers with No ambition, and wanted to stay at home. I even wrote a very torrid love letter to Sue, but I did not have the balls to give it to her. Mary found the letter, and I somewhat talked myself out of it, but it further helped in getting Mary out of the house. My landlord who did not raise the rent the whole time that I was there, died in 1996. He loved Nascar, so his wife bought him a big screen TV for his birthday. One day he was watching Nascar on the big screen and had a heart attack and died in the middle of the race. Well now his wife owns the house that I am living in, and she says, I am putting the house up for sale, if you want it buy it, otherwise move out. I found another place across town, just 3 doors down from my former land lord. I used the extra money that I made from my business for the down payment. I worked days at my regular job and nights for myself.
Ron's dark side came out and was directed toward me and my house at a party. Ron had gotten very drunk at a little get together at my new rented house. He was so drunk he could not find the front door when he wanted to leave. Ron kept going to the door on the balcony, which we all tried to get him turned around, less he fall over the edge. On the third attempt to go out the balcony door our friend Keith (6'1" 260 lbs) grabs him to turn him around. In a split second blood was on my walls, for Ron sliced Keith's hand with his razor knife. Now everyone backed away from Ron and he was just standing there in the middle of the room clenching the knife with blood dripping off of it. As the host I knew I had to do something, so I ran and got my hammer, came up behind Ron and hit him as hard as I could in the funny bone, so he would drop the knife. It didn't work, so I hit him again and again, then I started hitting him in the back. All Ron did was start to laugh, in the most evil sound possible, he slowly started to turn around. The big guy Keith grabbed the hammer off of me, so I ran into the kitchen and grabbed the biggest butcher knife possible. When Keith saw me coming around the corner with the knife, he some how dis-armed Ron. I still kept coming, because I knew Ron had more weapons. Keith managed to get brass knuckles, a sap. a buck knife, a 45 and a 38 off of Ron. Then Ron really went crazy, and started trashing my house. Just about then the police arrived, and everyone , froze and went quiet. The police looked at Keith and said, tough guy huh, well you're going to spend the night in jail, and I know you ain't going to like it. That is when everyone in the room pointed at Ron and said he was the guy that started it. Ron snapped out of whatever trance he was in and said, why officer I didn't do a thing. The police broke up the party, and everyone went home. I didn't talk to Ron for 5 days, but when I did talk to him I ask him what happened. Ron said he had no recollection of what happened, it was like he blacked out. I ask him if he has ever had black outs before. He said that since he was 5 years old, he has had the blackouts, and the green man takes over. What green man, I ask. He said when he gets into trouble or a fight where he is out numbered this green man shows up in his head. The green man always takes over and then I snap out of it safe and sound. Ron said that some times he has to try to restrain the green man because, at times this voice is saying, KILL THE MOTHER FUCKER, KILL KILL. Ron told me the green man looks like a gorilla with huge human like muscles and large fangs, and of course all green. From this point on, I did not want to be around Ron when he is drinking.