Loading tweets...The Clocktower
This is one of the most beautiful little stories I’ve seen in a long time. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Monthly Archive: July 2009
Jul 29
Kids and Vegetables
Kids and Vegetables
My sister-in-law called to tell me that my nephew had learned the time honored dinner tradition of slipping food that he didn’t like into his pockets and lying with a straight face to say he had finished. I laughed.
I remember my tricks at the dinner table. I hated vegetables but liked mashed potatoes so I’d eat my potatoes fast and always ask for seconds. My mother would say, “You’ll never finish those”, but gave them to me anyway. When no one was looking I’d hollow out the potatoes, deposit my veggies inside, and smooth over the top. Then I’d smile at my Mom and Dad and say, “You were right, I can’t finish.” They would let me be excused and I’d take my dirty dishes to the kitchen.
I got away with it for years until my grandmother nailed me. She was hip to all the tricks I’d pull.
To this day I can’t stand canned peas. When I was a kid they would make me gag. If I had no potatoes I’d slip them in my pockets. I thought I was being cool one day as I slid them, little by little, into my pockets. When I was done I asked to be excused. My parents said yes and as I got down from my chair my Grandmother said, “Wait, come here.”
I thought I’d humor the old girl because she always wanted hugs, so I went over and stood by her chair. She reached down and patted down my pockets like she was a former member of the L.A. Police Department. I could feel the wet squish of canned peas soaking into my trousers.
“Now you can leave, “ she said. I walked away from the table as the rest of my family followed me with their eyes in confusion as to what had just happened.
I can’t wait to do that to one of my kids.
Jul 28
My Brother’s A Retard
My Brother’s A Retard
I always wonder when I hear about someone or some organization talk about curing some disease, or identifying the gene that causes some “defect” in the human race, if we as a society actually understand the long term effects of what we’re doing.
My brother is retarded. “Mentally handicapped” is the politically correct way to say it. “Mentally challenged”, whatever. When I was growing up the people that made fun of him just called him “retard” or “tard”. He’s ten years older than I am.
I can’t begin to tell you how much of what I am today is a direct result of growing up with him in my life. I could talk for hours about so many experiences I’ve had with him, many horrible but just as many good. The horrible experiences were always the result of outsiders inflicting their hate or just plain ignorance upon my brother and our family. The good experiences were always the result of pure and innocent joy and love that always sprang spontaneously from my brother’s heart and soul.
One example of how he molded me is my love for music. He loves music and has an encyclopedic knowledge of so many different styles and composers it would make your jaw drop in amazement. When I was little more than a toddler I sat in his room as he rocked out to everything from Beethoven to Led Zeppelin. And he told me what I was listening to. “Now Johnny, this is ‘The Beatles’” or “this is ‘Tchaikovsky’”. We spent hours just rocking back and forth to the music until it got in my blood. When I was in second grade I brought in “I Am the Walrus” by the Beatles for show and tell. The nuns thought I was very disturbed and the kids thought it was crap, all except one. His name was Steven Kindler and we both just rocked back and forth to the rhythm. I always wondered what happened to him. Anyway, my brother did that to me.
Another thing about my brother is his inability to stay sad for any prolonged period. Just like a child that gets a boo-boo and screams for a minute then is all giggles the next.
When my parents first discovered my brother’s handicap they were told by specialists not to speak their native language around him, only English because having more than one language in the house would confuse and frustrate him. So English became the official language of the house. My other brothers and sisters never learned Polish but the ”retard” picked it up listening to my parents discuss things in private. Now he’s bilingual and the rest of us are not!
My father is a very religious man and one day I asked him if it were in his power to cure my brother, would he?
“Of course, “ he said, “wouldn’t you?”
I said that I didn’t know. Being the way he is, is a sure-fire ticket to heaven in my book. If he were “normal” he’d be just like us. I was a kid at the time but I still don’t know to this day. I realized a long time ago that my brother’s purpose in this world is to bring out the humanity in people.
He and people like him are that line in the sand that you either cross or you don’t. They make us choose between good and bad, right and wrong. There is no in-between. I would just like to know if the great thinkers of this world realize what they’re doing?
Do they realize that while trying to fix the human race they might be destroying the humane race?
Jul 27
The Prince and the Fool
This is my first attempt at writing a fable.
The Prince and the Fool
By John Dadlez
Once there was a young prince who was jealous of his older brother because he was first in line to become king. So the young prince began to spread lies and gossip about his brother so that he would be disgraced and have to forfeit his right to the throne. But what the young prince hadn’t counted on was the effect his slanders would have on his kingdom for the people loved his older brother very much, and his father, who was deeply hurt and distraught by what he heard even though it wasn’t true. His father became very ill and was close to death as a result of the young prince’s jealous ambitions.
The young prince became afraid and went to his father and brother to confess his sin and beg for mercy. When he told them they were sorely disappointed but nevertheless forgave him anyway. But, try as he might to correct his folly, the rumors and lies concerning his brother just grew and grew.
Frustrated and sad he went to the court jester, the wisest man in the kingdom, for his guidance and help. Upon listening to his tale the jester told him to gather up the down pillows from the seat of his father’s throne and to follow him. He did as he was instructed and followed the fool through the castle and to its tallest tower. Once they climbed the steps and looked out over the length and breadth of the kingdom, the jester took the pillows, ripped them open and scattered the feathery contents upon the wind. They both watched as the down floated and drifted out over the planes like snow and eventually vanished from site.
“Now”, said the jester to the prince, “go gather it up and re-stuff these pillows.”
“What you ask is impossible,” said the prince. “I could work for months and years and still not gather back every one.”
“Such is the nature of gossip and lies,” said the fool. “Once uttered, they are impossible to take back.”
Jul 26
Cookie Dough
Cookie Dough
I was reading the Sunday paper and having my morning coffee when my four year old daughter came up to me with a very serious expression. She proceeded to tell me that we needed to make cookie dough and give it to our neighbors because some people don’t have cookie dough. I said, “So you think if we gave everyone more cookie dough then things would be OK?” She shook her head yes and walked away.
Maybe Obama should try it.