"The Hat" Pt. 4

....Continued from pt.3

Her sister brought in a newspaper, and we looked through the classifieds. Only one job looked very promising and all three of us went in to apply. It turned out to be the local Kirby dealer and we were hired on the spot. She went into training as a door knocker, and her sister and I went to be salespersons. I caught on very well, flew through training and was soon assigned to a team, going out and demonstrating to make sales. The first week alone I managed four sales, and made enough to move my girlfriend, her sister and myself into a motel room up the street from the office. I wore "The Hat" everyday to work.

Car problems and my girlfriend's mental condition forced us to quit and we had to move from the motel once again. This time we moved in with my girlfiend's loner hermit cousin. He did not like living with people and he and I did not get along well at all. New Years Day 2005 it all finally blew up. All the stress from the past year finally all came out at once when he tripped my fuse over something very small. I attacked him in his living room and beat him until the girls could pull me off. Needless to say he kicked me out, and my girlfriend decided to come with. The only thing I took was "The Hat".

The Salvation Army was full again, and did not expect a bed to be open until spring. No shelter in town was accepting new people. We had heard that the police station was allowing people to sleep in the lobby, but that too was misinformation. We were promptly chased back out on the street. We decided to head to the hospital, and check into the emergency room with made-up symptoms. The wait was long enough to allow us some rest in the waiting room, and after we were checked out we went back and napped in the waiting room until morning. Te next day I told her not to worry about me and to goback to awarm house where she was still welcome. After some pleading, she agreed and I headed out to local dumpster beind a restaurant. I found a few cardboard boxes and wooden crates with which to build a small makeshft shelter and settled in. I lived this way for 2 weeks digging in the dumpster for food, drinking from puddles, and smoking butts from ashtrays. My girlfriend visited on several occasions to ensure I was OK, and to let me know that there were still no leads on anywhere else to go.

She finally begged me to call my mom in Maryland and ask for help. I had called her before for advice, or when I had questions, but had never asked her for money or any financial support. I swallowed my pride and agreed. The plan was for me to preceed my girlfriend to MD, geta job, then send a bus ticket for her to come be with me. two ays latr I found myself on a Greyhound headed toward Maryland. Two days after arriving home I was informed via phone that my girlfriend was leaving for Oklahoma to be with another man. I was despondent, but relieved that I was in a safe warm house. I have been here in Maryland now since that January, with only a brief two month trip to Colorado to visit my sister.

I still have "The Hat". It hangs proudly beside my desk to remind me of everywhere we've been together through good times and bad, happiness and sorrow, pleasure and pain. It is faded now to a muddy brown color, the white parts are dark beige, the reds are almost pink. It has a tattered front edge of the bill. The velcro adjustment strap is curled in on itself. "The Hat" feels like it is made from a soft leather instead of the light denim type material it is made from.

It smells a little funny, yet the smells are those of my life and travels. A conglomeration of engine grease, mud, diesel fuel, cheap hooker and stripper perfume, sawdust, salt, sweat, and shampoo. It bears the marks of being run over, dropped, squashed, chewed, and beaten. It has been with me for seven years now, through a wife, three girlfriends, and 48 states. We've stood together on mountain peaks, and in the lowest valleys. We've climbed sheer cliffs together, and hiked miles of trails. We've hunted deer, and caught fish as a team. When I've had nothing else in this world, "The Hat" has always been there with me. If ever we've become seperated, we found a way back to each other. It's not just a hat. It's a symbol of my life.

When I do finally leave this world, I sincerely hope someone puts that old tattered hat on my head and reads these words I have written aloud.

"The Hat" Pt. 3

....Continued from pt. 2

Later that day I was informed that I was unable to stay at the same place as my girlfriend because of the fact that she was going to stay with her mom, who was still a guest of one of my girlfriend's ex-boyfriends. We called the local Salvation Army shelter and were iformed that there were no open beds. One of the things I had taken with me from the truck was my sleeping bag, and a blanket and pillow. I was taken to a state park nearby and as shown a park bench I could sleep on undisturbed. I took a book and my sleeping gear and settled in for the evening. A few hours later she showed back up with her sister, and they took me to an overpass only a mile from where my girlfriend was staying. This was actually an overpass that allowed the highway to cross a rather busy rail line, with trains coming at regular thirty-minute intervals. They left me with a pack of cigarettes an a tupperware dish full of bean soup. She came back an hour later to check on me, and spent nearly an hour with me before walking home. I was left alone now in a strange place with no home, and only a boxload of posessions to my name, which were being stored at the house my girlfriend was staying at. This included my cell phone. I sat there and pulled a smoke out of the pack, and reached in my pocket for a lighter, only to realize that my lighter was with her. I set out walking to the house where she was and upon arrival I knocked at the door. she came out with me and brought my lighter. She went back inside and emerged with her jacket and a pillow to come be with me under the overpass. We spent a long, nearly sleepless night on the embankment with occasional visits from curious wildlife. One opossum actually came down and nibbled on the beanie on the top of "The Hat" as I dozed.

The next day we spent in town looking for a place to stay. I still had about $150.00 and a rented camcorder that I could pawn. We got enough to get a small pay by the week motel room, and checked in for a week. We took turns wearing "The Hat" during the week. When our stay ended we were broke, and homeless once again. We called the Salvation Army and found a bed was open, so I checked in there with only the clothing on my back and "The Hat". She went back to stay with her mom. She had all my other clothes and was goingto wash them and brng them to me. Two days later I received a message at the front desk that I was to call her. I called from a pay phone figuring that my clothes were done, andI was i for a shock. She informed me that we were through and that she was going on the road with Rob. I was devastated. I spent the next month agonizing over the loss until I was invited to a local church. I had nothing formal to wear, but was told that all were accepted regardless of dress, or looks. I went that first Sunday and was hooked. I went two more weeks, and finally answered the alter call on the third. I stil had only several t-shirts and pairs of jeans to wear, and "The Hat". I was wearing "The Hat" when I got saved.

A couple of weeks later a guy drove into the parking lot looking for hired help. I accepted the offer and was put to work as a day laborer offloading materials for im at his various construction projects. We had several conversations and he learned that I had a carpentry certification and prior roofing experience. He immediately put me on as foreman in charge of his projects. I was t be paid on a per job basis. As I finished a job I was to be paid a percentage of his take. Unlike most foremen I wa actually responsible for doing the job whilst managing crews of day laborers. I worked for him approximately 2 weeks before the girlfriend decided she was ready o cme back to me. He put her to work under me as part of the ground clean-up crew on roofing projects. He also paid for a motel room for she and I so as to get me out of the Salvation Army. I still had not to this point received any pay from him. He would always seem to find a reason not to finish a job, but not before receiving the balance of his draw from the customer. I would then be blamed for not finishing the job.

After two weeks in the motel he informed us that he had leased a storefront on the main street of town which had a back room that she and I could stay in. He intended to turn it into a junk shop and stock it with yard sale leftovers that people would give away.She was to run the shop while I still managed his work crew. Upon moving in we were told that we could use nyting from the shop we wanted, and as long as we gave him 2 weeks notice before quitting, that we could take everything with us. If were were to leave without this notice we were to take othing, including that which we brought in ourselves. The room was dependant upon our employment. We had no privacy as he felt that he could come and go as he pleased in and out of our room.

One project he had won the bid on was a roofing job in Kansas City, Missouri. The day we were to start the job th entire crew showed up at the shop. The tools were nowbeing stored there, and were mine and my girlfriend's responsibility at night.We loaded the tools and the boss and 4 of us crew members set out for Kansas City about an hour south of St. Joseph. About halfway there the tailgate fell open. I was riding in the back of the truck with another guy. We reached to pul t back up, and "The Hat" blew off and back down the highway behind us. Just as it hit the pavement a semi ran over it and threw it back into the air. It was struck by two cars before I lost sight of it as it flew into the median. Taking note of the next mile marker, I hollered to the boss, and he just laughed and kept driving. He told me that we would get it on the way home that evening only if I could spot it as we drove past. On the drive home that evening I was desperately hoping for a glimpse of it laying in the area where I had seen it last. No such luck. For two weeks straight we drove that stretch of highway until one day I noticed that they were mowing the median. They were working south to north an were only five miles from where I had last seen "The Hat". I was growng desperate and craning my neck in that area everytime we passed. On what was to be the day that the mowers worked that area, I asked him if he could please allow me to walk the median to look for my hat. He allowed me, and I found it laying at the entrance to a culvert covered in thick grass, the bill buried in an inch of mud. It was dirty and had a heck of a black mark from the truck tire but it was "The Hat", and it was fnally back in my possession.

We soon grew tired of not being paid and always being at his beck and call, so we instigated a plan to leave late at night and go stay with friend outside of town. As his rules stated, we left everything behind. He was very upset and tracke us down, yet we refused to come back. It was November in northwest Missouri and was becoming cold. The friend we stayed with turned out to be a major pervert, and we felt uneasy living in his house. My girlfriend's sister lived outside in a small two-room 12 ft by 6 foot shed. We moved out with her. It was full of drafts and had large mouse-chewed holes in the walls. There was no plumbing, and only a coffee maker, microwave and small refrigerator all powered by an extension cord running to the main house.

There was one bed , and the sister used that. My girlfrend and I slept on the floor. The temperature at night was falling no the 20's and snow threatened often. My girlfriend and I kept warm by having sex regardless of whoever was there, and the three of u would huddle together closely sometimes sleeping that way. We were all a bit grouchy and had cabin fever after about three weeks. This is about when my girlfriend started showing the signs of her pschizoprenia. She sought a psychiatrist and it was cofirmed. She was given medicaton, but it only made her worse.

To be continued in Pt. 4....

"The Hat" Pt. 2

....Continued from Pt. 1

Several weeks later I was in Connecticut and was assigned a load to Columbia, South Carolina. There was a major hurricane due to enter that area at about the time I should have been arriving. I accepted the load and headed south and into the eye of the storm. I made it as far as Doswell, Virginia before being forced into a truck stop by winds high enough to flip even a heavily loaded truck ( I was carrying a very light load of vinyl siding). The truck stop, however, remained open for those brave enough to conquer the act of walking the 20 yards to the door for coffee. I was one such brave soul, and ventured out towards the door. A particularly strong gust that I would estimate to be seventy miles per hour blew "The Hat" off my head and across the parking lot some 50 yards away, and into a small stand of trees. I followed the path I had seen it take and braved the heavy winds and pounding rains, in a search and rescue mission like none other. I eventually found "The Hat" nestled in the crook of a small, double-trunk tree and placed it back on my head. I held it firmly in place as I marched headlong to the truckstop door to get a cup of coffee. I dried it under a hand dyer in the men's room before heading back out to the relative safety of my truck cab for the night.

I returned home to Tennessee a couple of weeks later for a few days off. The morning I was due to leave I got up early, fixed my coffee, and started packing for the next three weeks on the road. I inadvertantly grabbed the wrong hat before walking out the door. I drove all day reaching central Iowa before realizing my mistake. The next morning I called my wife and had her ship "The Hat" via overnight delivery to the Petro truckstop in Cheyenne, Wyoming where I knew I would spending the next night. I arrived in Cheyenne late that evening, and went to bed after driving all day. The next morning when I awoke I went inside to get my coffee and check on my shipment. It had arrived. I tore into the package right there at the counter. The cashier must have thought I was a total nutcase when she saw what was in the box that had me so excited. Once again I had "The Hat" back on my head and I felt complete.

This trip took me to several memorable locations including a stroll through the Las Vegas strip and a ride on one of the largest and fastest roller-coasters in the US in Primm, Nevada. I had the opportunity to rock climb in Arches National Park in Utah, and hike in the high country of Colorado. I stood on the four corners in the Southwest, and walked on the Salt Flats of Utah. While in Salt Lake City I made a stop on the shore of the Great Salt Lake. Standing beside the great, flat expanse of water, I bent to scoop a bit in my hand. "The Hat" fell off and right into the Great Salt Lake. When it finally dried it was white and salt-encrusted for a few hours until I could reach the next truck stop and rinse it out in the sink.

The truck I was driving, although beautiful dark purple and chrome on the outside, was beginning to age, and show signs of several years of hard running in the engine department. Several times it broke down on the side of the highway, usually in the most remote possible location, leaving me to do temporary repairs in order to get to the next shop. During these roadside repairs "The Hat" gained many grease stains. One one such repair I had to bleed the fuel system, and ended up soaking it in diesel fuel.

I went home for Easter in 2004 and celebrated it with my family, little did I know that it would be the last time we were ever together as a family. That Sunday my youngest son took "The Hat" from my head and all four kids took turns playing keep-away for over an hour. They even used it as a hiding place when having one of their Easter egg hunts. I left the following day for my next three-week stint over the road, and have not seen them since.

About midway through this trip I was given a load from St. Louis, Missouri to Portland, Oregon. I decided to stop in St. Joseph, Missouri, north of Kansas City for a much needed shower, and laundry stop. While doing my last load I was approached by another driver asking if I had space for a stowaway or two. He took me to meet this young couple who were headed for Oklahoma to try to start a life together. Normally I was willing to help folks like this, but I was headed the opposite direction. After looking around at the other drivers, and taking into account the number who were already stopped for the night, as well as the fact that the girl was only 17 years old and very pretty and could be vulnerable to some of the undesireables, I decided I would take them farther north to Omaha, Nebraska, where they had a better possibility of finding a ride. We arrived in Omaha around 9:30PM and all were hungry, so I took them in, gave each of them one of my free shower coupons and bought them both dinner. We stayed up and talked late into the night before falling asleep. They were unable to find a ride, and I didn't feel right just leaving them there, so I offered to let them ride with me until I got a run going through Oklahoma. He even offered to work as a lumper when I needed one so that they could provide for themselves. The next two days we were enroute to Portland, and I was headed down a new road that would change my life forever.

We arrived in Portland on Friday and the load was due to deliver on Monday. We stayed at the TA truckstop for the weekend. The girl's boyfriend went inside to use the bathroom and left she and I out in the truck. She confessed that she was developing a crush on me and I was beginning to feel the same. I was havng an uneasy time with my wife at that time due to he recent infidelities. I made a decision that weekend to move on with my life, and why not start with a pretty young lady who had just turned 18 two days ago? We dismissed the boyfriend from the truck, and he called a relative locally who took him in. Monday morning she and I woke to go deliver the load, and the truck wouldn't start. It turned outo be a major repair, which would take several days, so my boss sprung for a motel room. Little did he know it was a room for two. Until that point nobody but me had ever worn "The Hat", but she became the first when she put it on while we had sex for the first time.

A few weeks later, after calling and ending things with my wife, the new girlfriend and I decided to make a life together living on the road. We both enjoyed each other's company and the travelling. My friend Rob and I were still in touch via cell phone, and for a short time he even drove my boss' other truck beore moving on and leasing his own. I had been in touch with a long-lost sister whom I hadn't seen in over 25 years, and cooincidence had it to give us a run going through Sacramento, California. I was finally able to meet my sister. The load we were under was to take us back to Portland, Oregon, and my boss had requested a meeting with me. A few months before I had been stopped for speeding in Kansas and recieved a hefty fine. My wife had never paid tat ticket with the money I sent home, and consequently my license was now suspended. Upon meeting with my boss I was informed that he was selling the trucks he owned, and that I was to empty out my belongings and take the truck to the local Freightliner dealership. My girlfriend and I were offered a bus ticket to wherever we wanted to go, we both decided to head to her hometown, where we first met, St. Joseph, Missouri. We packed all of the stuff out of the truck throwing many things away. I kept my old hat. We boarded a Greyhound late that evening and took turns sleeping using "The Hat" to cover our faces from the lights. Three days later we disembarked in St.Joseph at 3:00 AM. We had to sleep on a bench outside the bus station until she was able to reach somene to come pick us up.

To be continued in pt. 3...

"The Hat" pt, 1

I'm sure everyone has had that one article of clothing, or that one object that has become a permanent part of their personality. Usually it's a meaningless item which acquires value only to the person who posesses it, yet the value it gains is immeasurable to it's owner.

I have one such item, an old faded red, white, black and silver hat which has seen its better days. I purchased "The Hat", as I affectionately call it, in April 2001. It is a Dale Earnhardt commemorative hat. When I bought the hat it was only one of many such #3 hats that I owned, and was destined for the shelf where I kept them all. This hat, however, held a special place for me from the start, as it was so recently after Dale's death that it was purchased. It soon became the hat that I wore everyday.

Around this same time I decided to attend truck driving school, and little did I know that this three week trip to Lexington, Kentucky would become one of many for me and "The Hat". I graduated with my CDL and started driving for a local expedited trucking company making several runs weekly to various locations east of the Mississippi. "The Hat" accompanied me on all of these trips. On one such trip to the BAX Global Air Freight terminal in Chicago, one of our normal destinations, I removed my hat due to feeling a bit overheated, and laid it on a desk next to the receiving dock. I inadvertantly left and headed back toward Memphis, sans hat. Several days later my boss called to let me know he had a run for me, and by chance it was going to the same freight terminal in Chicago. By this time I had written "The Hat" off as a loss. Upon arrival at my destination in Chicago I was approached by one of the dock employees who recognized me from my previous trip, and he was carrying my hat! Reunited!

After several months with this employer, I switched jobs, and went over-the-road team drivng with my best friend John, with whom I attended truck driving school. John and I had many trips together to many locations in 22 states, and "The Hat" was along for them all, and always close by my side. One night John and I arrived at a truck stop in North Carolina. It was early morning and there were very limited parking spaces available. The ones that were open were that way beause of the difficulty involved with backing into them. This is a common occurence at most truck stops every night. John wasn't the brightest tool in the shed, and I definitely did not trust him to get out and guide me into a tough spot. He also wasn't the greatest when it came to operating a Freightliner in reverse, but I figured that with my guidance he could manage. I hopped out, and as I was walking around to the front of the truck, I bent to pick up a piece of trash that had fallen from my jacket pocket. The bill of "The Hat" caught on the running board, and fell behind the front tire. I raised my hand for John to wait while I retrieved it, but before I could get to it, John backed the truck right over it. I waved at him to stop and the idiot pulled forward and right back over "The Hat". I finally got my squashed, misshapen hat out from under the truck and placed it back on my head. Upon climbing back into the truck, I promptly whacked John over the head with it.

John and I parted ways a few months later when the owner/operator we drove for sold off his trucks, and I immediately went back on the road with CRST in Cedar Rapids, IA. Of course "The Hat" came along for the ride. This time I team drove with Rob, the former friend, who eventually ran off with one of my girlfriends. Finally, "The Hat" was able to make it's debut west of the Mississippi. After several coast to coast hauls "The Hat" had been in 40 states.

One of the most memorable was a trip to Laredo, TX, when Rob and I had the opportunity to go south of the border into Mexico. We went to where pretty much every trucker goes, and that was to "boystown" as it is called. Its a seedy place on the outskirts of town, protected by a brick wall where within almost anything is legal. Boystown is best known for it's cheap prostitutes who range in price from $10USD to $80USD for the more expensive ones. This is also where the much-daunted "donkey show" takes place. When you arrive and enter into one of the many bars, you are usually greeted by a prostitute who leads you to a table, then sits with you while you order a drink. She makes small-talk and flirts in an attempt to get you to take her to a room and pay her. Well, the one that met me at the door took me to a table and ordered herself and me a drink. She sat on my lap, applied extra lipstick and then kissed "The Hat" leaving a huge lip mark right on the white part of the bill. I got completely wasted that night and after sleeping it off, I completely forgot about the lipstick. I wore it that way for another week until I got home, and my wife saw it. Let the argument begin. Yet another chapter in the saga of "The Hat".

Rob and I had the opportunity to spend two days in Los Angeles, California. We made the most of it by visiting Hollywood, and spending two days exploring Hollwood Blvd and the Sunset Strip. We visited neary every major spot and saw things that would last a lifetime. The first night Rob made a phone call to a friend of his from high school back in Detroit, whom he said he knew lived in Hollywood. His friend "Bobby" was home and we were invited to come visit. We drove the truck minus trailer into the Hollwood Hills following Rob's handwritten directions. We pulled up to a palatial, gated estate, pressed the intercom button, and the gate opened. As we walked to the front door, it opened and standing in the doorway was none other than Kid Rock himself. We spent a couple of hours sitting in Kid's living room and enjoyed a few cold ones. "The Hat" stayed with me the entire time.

After a year of driving for CRST I tired of team driving, and was offered higher pay to drive for Arrow Trucking in a solo capacity. Arrow Van Division (I refused to drive flatbeds) only ran east coast, so it gave "The Hat" a chance to visit the last couple of states in New England where it had never been. No major things happened to or with "The Hat" during this period. We just drove quite a bit establishing a close hat-head bond. Many nights I grew so tired from driving that I just climbed in the bunk and slept with "The Hat" on.

Another year later, and I was offered a position to drive solo coast-to-coast for an owner/operator out of Portland, Oregon. I jumped at the opportunity. The truck I was to drive had been abandoned by it's previous driver in Tampa/St. Petersburg, Florida, so "The "Hat" and I boarded yet another Greyhound, (almost all trucking companies rely on Greyhound for moving their employees around) this time bound for Florida. Upon arrival in Florida, although it was January, it was extremely balmy. I found the truck with no problem, as the gentleman from the detail shop picked me up at the bus station, but finding the trailer was yet another adventure. It seems the previous driver had dropped the trailer on the side of a residential street in St. Petersburg, and the police, believing it to be abandoned had towed and impounded it. I spent two days dealing with the St. Pete PD and my new boss trying to get all of the proper paperwork through all the proper channels. Needless to say I was sweating alot because of the heat, and it was beginning to show as a white ring around the base of "The Hat". This ring stayed for several weeks until I had to drop off my trailer in a horrible rainstorm in Louisiana one night.

To be continued in Pt. 2....

In The Beginning...

The beginning. There's a word which puts me into a quandry. What exactly constitutes my beginning? Was it the moment I was forcefully pushed into this world from the warm confines of my mother's womb? Or was it when I became cognizant of myself as a seperate entity from others? As you can see, I never really know where to begin.

I suppose I can tell you that I was born on a warm summer day in Fayetteville, NC to a young mother and disturbed Army father. Due to their bad choices in life I was adopted by my grandparents in MD. I grew up, however, practically fatherless as my father (grandfather) died when I was eight,and my mother (grandmother) never remarried. I'm sure, though, that you didn't stop by to find out all of that about me, but as the title says, this is my life. It's not pretty, but it is real.

I guess the true beginning was when I started to become aware of myself and my own personality, which was somewhere around thirteen or fourteen, around the start of high school. I met my first girlfriend the third day of 9th grade, which set into motion a complete downward spiral for the rest of my life up until the present moment. She was pretty, funny, and all that stuff, but because of her family's economic status, she was an outcast. I of course took the brunt of the persecution, as I was the one who saw through and got a glimpse of the person she was. This initial persecution lasted the rest of my high school years. She and I broke up shortly after homecoming in my sophomore year due largely to the fact that, as a product of my upbringing, I was not comfortable with sexual acivity. She went on to become pregnant before graduation. I however, flew solo until my senior year. Even then the only girls that went out with me were only doing so to get to know my friend Chris who was immensely popular with almost every clique. That is until about a month before promwhen my best friend Leon and I met two sisters whom we both fell deeply for. I took the younger sister to the prom, only after having to read Moby Dick and giving a detailed report to her father. Thank God for Cliff notes. Well needless to say, that was another doomed relationship, as I was already enlisted in the US Navy prior to the beginning of my senior year. She broke up with me on the way home after prom.

Fast forward a year and I found myself stationed in Millington, TN, attending school to be an Aviaton Electronics Tech. Our class was made up of mostly single sailors and marines living on base in the barracks. There were, however, two married men included. I befriended one of them and was eventually spending a lot of my spare time at his apartment off-base. He and his wife were from Kennewick, Washington, and she was stunningly attractive. Several other people from our class would hang out there on a regular basis. One of these was Bill whom if it wasn't for him, I would never have been married. We drank heavily at ths apartment and played very risque games as Truth or Dare, and Strip Poker. I guess it was around this ime I started to become aware of my own sexuality, and what turns me on. One such night Bill shows up with a pretty, young blonde girl named Jenny. One group of us including my classmate's wife, whom was an object of my affection at the time, retired to the bedroom to play truth or dare, whilst the rest played strip poker in the living room. Well I guess Jenny must've lost first because soeone came into the bedroom to tell us se was naked. Of course we went out to see the spectacle, and sure enough, there she was, bent over the couch and posing for all us guys. I spent that night in the bed with my classmate's wife, platonically of course. I was awakened the next morning when several people, including a crying Jenny came into the bedroom. They all climbed in the bed with Jenny right next to me. was still covered and she climbed under the covers as well. She was in her bra and panties. The news was that Bill, her fiancee, had ended up drunk and slept with another girl at the party. As we all talked, Jenny and I were kind of messing around. When someone finally noticed, everyone left the room except for Jenny and I. My first sexual experience.

Three months later Jenny and I were married. Many more parties went on at that house and it wasn't uncommon to have to step over couples in the various stages of having sex just to navigate the living room. At any given moment there was usually someone having sex in every room, sometimes several couples at once.

I was eventually booted out of the Navy for having alcohol on board the ship. Jenny and I settled in Tennessee with her parents and conceived four children. Tiring of working in various dead end jobs I decided college was the best path and eventually graduated with a 3.98 GPA in Electronics Engineering, receiving my Associates degree. After several years of working in that industry, I grew tired of the corporate politics and decided to go to truck driving school. I got my CDL in 2001 and headed ot on the road. I drove for 3 years. Jenny and I seperated due to her 12 years of infidelity with 25 different men, and she never paid a ticket I had recieved, so my license was soon suspended. That same week, my boss decided he wanted out of the truckng business and sold the truck from under me. I had since met and was co-residing on the road with a gorgeous 18 yr old girl whom I thought was everythingI ever wanted. The boss gave her and I a bus ticket to where she was from, St. Joseph, MO. Upon arrival I was shocked to find that she was in touch with my best friend Rob who was still a trucker. She left me in a strange town with no money nor home, and went to be with him on the road. I was relinquished to the coziest spot under the local highway overpass that I could find. Eventually a bed opened in the local Salvation Army helter and I took up residence. I got a job as a foreman on a roofing crew for a local entrepeneur. Miss 18 yr old broke up wth Rob and came back, so I figured I owed it to myself to take her back, since I had spent nearly to months agonizing over the loss. She turned out to be pscizophrenic and would become violent when she episodes with the voices. Again we broke up when I finally managed a way back to MD.

Finally, I was able to get back on my feet when I got back here and moved in with my mother. I fell back on all my self-taught web/graphic design experience, and started my own business. I met a nice girl onlie and thought maybe things were looking up. We went out twice and she turned out to have such low self-esteem, that she had labeled herself un-loveable and put up a wall that noone would be able to break through. No big loss there. So along comes Dawn. I met her online as well, and she was awesome. We eventually moved i together, and it seemed as if she was willing to do anything of herself to keep me happy. This soon chaged when she went off the deep end one day and held a knife to her own throat. I, being the caring person I am, didn't give up on her. She stayed in a mental ward for a week and was back out with good meds that kept her stable. When she ran out of meds, however, she wa a handful, and even went as far as holding me at knifpoint several times. This all came to a head recently when she pulled a knife on my mother and I and then attempted to slit her wrists. I am now living back with mom and seeking a way to make some money online. I have a close circle of friends on a community site where spend most of my time, and they are the greatest. I thank them all for being there and being so supportive.

You will eventually learn more about what makes me tick in my future posts. Happy reading!!

Just a few pics from my past....My senior pic, My prom pic taken during happier moments with my date, and of course the Navy boot camp pic.