Here is another installment of my memoir posts. It kind of involves a pack of Drag Queens, Little Debbies, and a Pomeranian named Teddy Bear. You’ll see…
Like Billions Before, I Arrived
Right off the bat, I say on social media from time to time that being raised by a pack of Drag Queens made me what I am today. Today, I am going to confess something; All *this* can’t be blamed on drag queens.
No, I wasn’t raised at the end of a rainbow filled with glitter, riding a unicorn in my rhinestone covered baby jumper, lycra, pancake makeup, and baby-sized false eyelashes. I did not take my first steps in toddler-sized three-inch heels. It is true that my default language is “Snark, ” but my upbringing did not consist of an environment filled with foam rubber hips, fake talons (nails), rubber
I wish I could say that I was raised by a pack of Drag Queens because that would have been a very interesting upbringing that may garner a movie deal. But no, I was raised by a single temperamental Gemini of a Mom who drove an amazing vibrant yellow Chevy Charger and fed us coke and Little Debbies for breakfast.
Well, come to think of it, that, in some ways, is very similar.
The Early Days Were Foreboding; Except for Teddy Bear
The first memory I have, and it might have been a dream when I was a kid, was being a baby in the new baby ward of the hospital. It was night-time, and I remember hearing some other baby gurgling in their sleep. Then with my blurry half-open baby eyes, I looked up at the ceiling and thought, “I have a feeling this is going to get fucked up real quick.”
See, snarky English is a language I come by naturally.
At the time of this editing, I am fifty years old. Almost every year my mother reminds me that she was in labor with me for 36 hours. My big fat fabulous baby head got lodged in her hip! They had to do a c-section to get me out. It seems I have always been a pain her side.
Also, when I was a six-month-old baby I had a leg infection that was out of control, and if they didn’t get it under control, I could have lost my leg. They had to do surgery, and I still have the huge scar on my ass to prove it. They went in that way for some reason (karma? for the whole hip
Mom told me the night they brought me home, our black Pomeranian named Teddy Bear set up guard over me. He would set up a protective posture under my crib. My Guardian Angel Squad includes a Pomeranian named Teddy Bear. That fluffy puppy knew that in that household I would probably need all the help I could get.
Overview Of Those Early Days
I don’t remember a whole lot of my early days except a bio-Dad who was never there and when he was he was either screaming our nonsensical (high.) I also remember a very frustrated and over-worked mother trying to do three jobs to keep a roof over our heads. In my early pictures, I was a happy kid with big smiles and happy eyes. My favorite is of my brother and me when I was about five and he was about two and a half. We had matching jumpers with a little joker patch sewn on the front.
We were two little boys that liked destroying things. I should clarify, we liked doing the things that ended up destroying things; playing volleyball in the house, spinning yo-yo’s around my head until one went crashing through a crystal candy dish, riding big-wheels through thorn bushes… that kind of stuff. In the next post, I will share a story along these lines that ended up having a profound impact on my worldview.
Then the photos stop. It’s like the happy kids went away to wherever happy kids go to disappear. Granted, this was before you could grab and take instant photos with your phone. However, I think the photos stopped because life tried to ruin our family and created some not so happy kids. Life can be a bitch to adults but especially to the kids who don’t understand or given an opportunity to try to understand…
Stay tuned for more from Chapter 1! I will update the top navigation menu to have these memoir post categories prominently displayed. If you know me or of my history and have a suggestion on a topic to include in all this, let me know! If I hadn’t written about it, I will definitely consider making it a part of these memoir posts. Again, thanks for reading!