In the Memory of Paul Harvey - You'll Soon Know The Rest Of The Story

I felt this blog was the appropriate place to write this "I remember" piece, although I never thought I would have the need to tell it. Looking back, It's not something I am proud of, just so you know, I am having a hard time with this. I have had ever since the moment David called me a day or so after Christmas.  I won't say more about how that went. Suffice it to say, it's not a place I ever want any of us to be in.

I'm 70 years old slowly being killed by cancer...physically and mentally.  I don't need any lectures or any discussion of why things happened the way they did.  They just did and that's that... right or wrong... over 30 years ago.  I have never intentionally ever done anything to purposely hurt any of you, ever.  I'm obviously a flaw in the works. 

Unlike Paul Harvey, you'll read what I remember or recall about the beginning of the story.  A story and topic I never expected to have with Cooch/Carol/your mom, or any of my kids.

I seem to remember this all starting in early 1986, on a Sunday morning.  Seriously.  I was at St John's church in Dover, NH coffee hour social after the service.  Tina and Rebecca were not with me and I don't recall if David and Sara were with me or not.  They may have been since that was just after being reunited with them.  I'm thinking the lady I met at coffee hour, Diana F (not sure of her last name spelling), may have had a couple kids there too.  Nothing special, probably started chatting because we were both there with kids.  That was it ... I left (I meaning me and anyone that might have been with me).

Upon getting to the car, Diana came to the car, handing me a small piece of paper with her phone number on it and said "call me sometime". I don't recall the details other than that and that I did call her later that afternoon.  To spare us all from the details, this is not a "50 Shades of Black" story, more like "what else is under my dark cloud".  I don't remember how long of a time we were connected ... I think just a few months.  I recall very few details of any of that time ...

• I recall a picture of Diana and her kids at Waterside Lane once with her wearing a yellow rain jacket.  I think we gave her and the kids some clothes ... don't recall where they came from.
• I have no recollection of anything we did or anyplace we might have gone out to.
• I recall talking on the phone late at night a few times and driving to her apartment in Dover in the late hours of the night.
• I don't recall for how long we kept up this type connection or how it ended.  I seem to recall a conversation about someone she had previously dated or lived with, maybe in San Francisco.  There are no other details.

As quick as the connection began, it was over and we moved on to our separate ways, until Diana called a few months later and asked if we could meet. I remember few of the details of that meeting ...

• Diana was dressed in what appeared to be a maternity top and told me that she was pregnant and she thought it was a good possibility I was the father.
• She was with someone else (I think the person she may had previously gone out with or lived with).  No idea who, certainly not a name.  She intended on keeping the child and move on with her life and wanted to without me.
• She had papers she had had drawn up by an attorney that would give up any parental rights I may have had.  She said I would not hear from her again and there was nothing else we had to do.
• I signed and agreed to move on away from her.  

That was the last time I ever saw or talked to Diana.  I lived up to my agreement, which is what she requested and we were both able to move on, our own separate ways.  I never knew if I really was the father or not, nor did I know if she had a boy or girl.  That is until David called me about a week ago, It now appears apparently she had a boy and I was the biological father.  Of course, now I am being looked upon as the schmuck, asked about cheating, what other details there are, and what I was going to do.  Maybe I am a schmuck, but I NEVER wanted that to be the way it is, NEVER tried to do things that hurt anyone, and NEVER expected to have this conversation or to even document these facts, as I remember them.

Now I am lost and feel like I'm in a whirlpool.  I've obviously screwed up many things in my life, but I also tried to be a good person and to help others succeed. I'm not sure where to go now, and I don't wish to discuss options or opinions with anyone.  This is a situation that happened over 30 years ago or whenever it was and we were all fine up until a week ago, except for maybe what Christopher is thinking.  My agreement was with his mother, not him, and looking back, perhaps he is the one that has been hurt most, although, I never ever thought if it that way.  

I'm now just a guy literally trying to stay alive, to beat this cancer rat bastard within me, and to makeup for all my lifelong short comings that I seem to be reminded of more and more since my retirement.  More of a schmuck than I ever knew I was.  I thought things were better than they really were.  Sorry I let you all down.  I'm sorry I let this situation go the way it went, but I did what I was asked and at the moment, seemed like the right thing to do.  Maybe I'm the only one that feels that way, well, Diana appeared to think that way too at some point.

My medical condition has given me pause and caused me to look at things from Christopher's position.  I hope he had a good upbringing and understands although I walked away when I was asked, it was NEVER his fault and NEVER my intent to put him in a situation looking for his biological dad ... if he ever was or felt like something was missing.  I'm sorry.  I am also sorry to all of you.

I will ensure my medical records are available to him should he ever want them, and other things he may now want for now.  Please, let this be a close hold for all of you.  No more digging or answers are needed.  No more discussions.  That's all I have.

Always the Entrepreneur - Sub's at Sledgens

As the title implies and something you will read in this and many of the post that will follow, I was always thinking with an entrepreneurial mindset.  I always had my eyes and ears open for opportunities, like the one I developed when I was about 18 years old, Sub's at Sledgens.

Sledgens bar was a local dive sort of establishment on Route 5 in Elbridge, NY.  Dark and dingy, but it was a hang out for lots of the younger generation, several under 18, the then legal drinking age in New York.  I was 18, but I rarely if ever drank anything but soda.  Some of my buddies were known to tip a beer or two whenever they could get their hands on it.  The old couple that owned and ran the bar were pretty slow and as some would say, "blind as a bat"

When asked for ID's, many of the under 18 kids would show the old lady anything in their hand saying it was their ID.  I remember someone even opening a pack of matches showing her the cover as if it were their ID.  Occasionally, she could see enough to know they were trying to pull a fast one on her ... not me, I was 18, I won't name any names (after all, I wouldn't want to implicate Barry, Doug, Dave or Tom), but some of the culprits were in a "gang", some called the "U5".

a K-Mart sub, and it was pretty good eating

 Anyway, one of the complaints was that there was no food at Sledgens.  I'm guessing they had closed up kitchen operations years before.  Did you hear that Dan? There's a need for food!  Businessman Dan stepped up and convinced them that they should buy submarine sandwiches (that's what we called them in central New York - other places call them hero's, hoagie, poor boys, or even a torpedo) from me to resell to customers.  They agreed and we were in business.

this is how the subs came from K-Mart

But wait, I'm not going to make a bunch of subs every day, I really don't remember how many days a week I took them subs, but enough to make some money.  So where did they come from?  I bought them from K-Mart.  It got to the point, if I can recall correctly, I would call and pre-order what ever number I needed so they'd be ready when I got there.  Always fresh and not too bad tasting either.  I've read that K-Mart stopped selling subs and other deli kind of things sometime in the 70's.

I can't remember how long we remained in business together, at least long enough to make a few bucks, had some fun.

Here's a tie to the present day.  I ordered a Stanley PowerIt 1200 Jump Starter on eBay for $128 and change, with free shipping.  I bought it from a user with 0 history, but, since I used a credit card, I wasn't worried.  The weirdness started with I received a shipment from WalMart.com, for which no one here had ordered from them.  When the package arrived, it was the item I bought on eBay.  So, I go to WalMart.com search for the starter and low and behold, WalMart had it for $99 and change with free shipping.  The best I can figure, the seller sold me the starter for $128 minus the eBay fees, ordered the unit from WalMart.com and had it shipped to me... making about $20 plus bucks.  He was doing a "Sub at Sledgens" dance with me.  I like it (but not happy I paid for that experience and lesson.

- - -

Never, ever, forget, you matter!

What is My Favorite Product?

I'm writing this post here because it's a pretty safe bet, it will never be read by anyone but me.

I'll never forget meeting Becca Levie while at my first Scentsy Spring Sprint at the Omni Hotel in Philadelphia, I think in 2011.  I thought Becca was bigger than life itself in Scentsy...  next to Orville and Heidi, she is.

Yesterday, she made this post on Facebook....
#bathbomb Incentive.
I am going to share my favorite product. After you read it please share your thoughts.
People often ask me how I came to be a top ten earner in Scentsy even when I wasn't one of the early consultants.
First like Orville states it's not when you start it's what you do when you start.. and here's the thing everyday is a new start.
Second remember you can't help someone to the top of a mountain without getting there yourself.
In other words "Help enough people get what they want and you'll get what you want."- Zig Ziglar
And for some people that's just making their house smell better, or to be able to get free Scentsy.
For others it more and for many they don't realize at first how much more that is.
Ask yourself what's your favorite product.
I will tell you what mine is.
It's our, be your own boss home based business opportunity.
Almost everyone needs extra income, a tax write off, new friends, something to call their own, an exit strategy, a way to travel the world, a self improvement program or a chance to make all their dreams come true.
And Scentsy is the perfect opportunity to meet all those needs and wants because our whole catalog is full of product that meets every age and gender in at least one way.
Another thing I love is I know without a doubt anyone can be as successful as they want to be with Scentsy.
Scentsy is simple, it's duplicatable and a low investment with unlimited income potential.
I truly believe it's this burning passion, BELIEF AND CONVICTION that has helped me sponsor over 400 people.
This is why I am always asking you to read books, 
get on our Saturday Calls,
watch videos,
grab a hold of anything you can so you can build your belief and excitement to the point you will...
not give up
you will write your one minute story
you will practice your skills, 
you will implement a follow up system until they say yes or say no thank you, so you will learn to listen to people's needs so you can offer Scentsy as a solution.
so you will make a chicken list,
so you will make borrow bags,
so you will do Sit and Sniffs,
so you will attend Scentsy Family reunion
attend world tour
And sponsor, sponsor, sponsor!
Because wether you think you can Make It Happen OR you think you can't YOU'RE going to be right.
Change your mind, change your life.
Share with me how this touches your thoughts.

This is another opportunity to get your name entered to win a #bathbomb

I didn't post a comment, I want to taint her feed with a negative.  I sent her a private message in response and am copying here so I will have a place to find my comment easily....

Thank you for your post Becca - you are always inspirations, loving, giving, and all else that goes along with that.  I don't feel I can share my thoughts as a comment to your post because it feels nothing but negative and laden with excuses...  but my feeling are what they are and I have yet to be able to shake them.  I love Scentsy, Orville, Heidi and most all the people I have met within Scentsy....  I love the few customers I have, but overwhelmed with life and the most horrid feeling I have ever had.  I am well aware how good life has been to me, how successful I have been in some ways, but oh what a failure and loser in so many other ways.  I can't get beyond the suffering I have inside....  the emotional torment I am feeling....  I often put on the good face...  act positive and supporting on the outside, while completely lost and without love on the inside.  I read John Maxwell, Zig Ziglar, Tony Robbins, all the books, I have libraries....  I know what to do for business (or I think I do), but my gut is wrenched in self pity, hurt and loneliness. It has ripped the desire and energy from me....  I feel so sad and without the ability to move.  I have not spoken to the mother I dearly love who I feel was taken away from me since last January....  now so full of guilt because I used my own failure as an excuse.  My favorite product ....  being giving and helpful to others....  I once felt I was, now I think I failed.  How can I be a top earner ....  rid myself of the debt of life and feel worthwhile again.  Becca - pretending you are a close friend I have, understanding I am nothing more a figment of my own imagination .....  then poof, it will be over.  Love you and Terri regardless of my own shortcomings.

I so want to feel better.....

David - a friend of my Dads

For the most part, this post is mostly is just documenting a part of my Dad's history.  I found this envelope today containing a letter from David Phillips.  I think I met David once with my dad.  He was closer to my age, an airplane and WWII enthusiast.  I'm thinking he was in the Maryland area, but not positive.

Here are the letter and pictures I found:

The Old Ford Tractor

I don't remember when, early to mid 1960's I guess, I was too young to drive and I lived about 3 miles to Jordan or Memphis in the opposite direction.  It too a long time, but riding my bike to either town was the norm back then.  It was that or hitch hike and if you didn't get a ride, it was a long walk.

I don't know how it came about, but I remember suddenly having a gray and red Ford farm tractor to "drive" where I needed to go.  Back then, driving a tractor on the road in upstate New York was common place.  I recall my baseball glove and bat hanging from something... it was my first "vehicle".  My dad must have gotten it for me because it once got a flat tire while in Memphis near Barry Buck's parents house and one of my dad mechanics had to come to Memphis and "take care of it".  I can't remember his name, but it was the pissy one, he didn't ever care about having to help the bosses spoiled kid.  He was a jerk...  I'm sure karma got him.

A few weeks ago, driving in Massachusetts, I spotted the old Ford tractors twin sitting out in the middle of a farmers field.  I stopped, went back and grabbed a picture.

I sat there starring at it...  wanted to go jump on and take a ride, for old times sake.  I sent the picture to Barry's daughter (she's connected to the digital age, he's still out riding the tractor I guess).  Asked her to share the picture with him.  She later wrote: "My father had a wonderful chuckle and walked us down memory lane with that pic! He said to tell you "Good, times, my friend. Good times." He said that you drove the tractor around like a car".  She also referred to us as "hooligans" back then.

I did and we were.

The Memphis Mud Hens...

In the little hamlet of Memphis, NY, they had our version of of youth baseball.  I see to remember we normally had 4 teams... I have no clue how the teams were assigned, picked or any of that.  I recall we got colored tee shits and matching hats for uniforms.  I only remember 2 coaches ever....  All Hannam (always referred to as Mr. Hannam) and Adam Skorvinsky (always referred to as Ski).

I think there were many a Saturday's that with Ski or Mr Hannam played, coach, umpire and sometime pitcher for both teams playing.  We were major leagues and those coaches did it all for us.  As we got a little older, maybe into our teens, we (maybe me, I always was an entrepreneur) decided we should have a travel team.  I sold advertising to local businesses for 4 x 8 sheets of plywood with their company name on it so we could build a "home run" fence.  Quite a few were sold and somehow I finagled some snow fence from someone to complete the fence.  I know my dad and other dads had a big hand in getting the fence erected.  To the best of my knowledge, Ron Crouse was the only player to ever hit one "over the fence" and he did it twice in one game against a team from Jordan...  I was a runner on second base for both of those hits and recall them both going almost straight away center field, right over my head.  Funny how we remember things like that....  I wonder if that is how it really happened or if it is just how I remember it?

I hustled a deal with the old Elbridge Central School and obtained their old high school baseball uniforms after they merged with Jordan High School and worn the old Jordan colors.  Holy cow, we had real uniforms....  red pinstripes and we became the Memphis Mudhens.  I can't remember exactly how that came to be, I know it had something to do with what letters we could get to replace the "EC" on the uniforms. I seem to remember working a deal with Joe Charles, owner of Joe Charles Sports in Fairmount Fair Shopping Center for the lettering.  The guys wearing uniforms with just an "M" were the old Elbridge pinstripes.  The Memphis uniforms were the brand new uniforms we purchased once the adults knew we were serious about playing...  they came from Joe Charles Sports.

Got my dad to bring a small bulldozer to the field and we moved the backstop back about 10' from it's original position behind home plate...  we have a concession stand... we were living the dream many kids dream.  Pretty cool for little ole Memphis.

Obtained from Dennis Cooper, taken by Herbert Thomas, 1966: left to right: squatting: Mike McNeal, Joe Manion Jr., unidentified player3, Tommy O'Neil, Larry Crouse, Butch Burkart, unidentified player7.  Standing: Coach Al Hannam, Randy Muncy, Buddy Hannam, unidentified player standing4, Ray Slate, Pete Haske, unidentified player standing7, Dan Greeley, unidentified player standing9, Ron Crouse, Coach Joe Manion Sr., Rich Lewis, Rusty Mosher, Coach Adam "Ski" Skorvinsky, unidentified player standing15 — in the picture yet to be identified who is who: John Srewart

Something so small... that means so much

Today's post will be different... not about a specific event of the past, but about one huge void in my past. I remember the day I saw a post about a guy trying out for America's Got Talent.  There are several post of similar nature and most of us are in awe at the raw talent of so many people out there...  they're doing what they love and bring happiness, joy and goodness to this world that is otherwise in such turmoil.  This was different, this hit home.  Whether he heard it or not, he got the one thing I failed to achieve or receive, and it burned me to the core.

The guy, Marty Brown, just a good ole boy from Kentucky, came on stage to sing a song.  He didn't have previous knowledge that he was on his way there to sing, his wife manipulated (in a good way) to get him there because she thought that this is what he needed to be doing.

He sang a song that he said he sings to his wife...  an amazing song, the words are probably what every woman wants to hear from their man....

He sang the words most of us guys really want to sing, but don't have the talent to sing it. Most of us can only try to play the part so she knows. I've tried, and I failed miserably. Those that know me personally or know my situation, know I have failed multiple times... miserably with a broken heart each time. I have screwed up more than one can imagine. I have tried harder than anyone cares. The reasons don't seem to matter, the shattered me is alone and all that's left. You see, in the video above, Marty sings with passion... maybe not the best singer in the world, but that doesn't matter to me. I don't care that I have been told I can't sing, I can act with the same passion he had, even thought I can't sing. What matters is how he got there and the passion he had for what he loved... he just happened to find success. First in life, now through singing. I don't know the words to the song... but I know the words his wife spoke off stage after he sang. Immediately welled up and with an ache in the pit of my stomach, I had just heard the words yearned for for so many years. I felt as if my failed reality came to the surface as she said, "I'm so proud of him". I know they were not just words, I know he felt them, I just always wanted to be like Marty.