Duncan – Saturday – Part 2

“There is a peacefulness in middle age. I love that we’ve both finally arrived there together.”

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Duncan is chill and he’s just happy to be in Philly. He swings by the salon and has resigned himself to the fact that I need to work a million hours at the salon to get our business going.

He knows that It’s down to me and Achilles to keep the business going. Instead of crying that we can’t spend the day stalking comic book stores and strip joints he comes to the gym and works out.

I love this.

My schedule is stuck and I have to do what I have to do for the business. It’s just the world I live in now and we all get it. (It won’t always be like this.)

In the old days Duncan would come up and we would spend a whole week living in the same house. I would drink, he’d smoke pot, we’d watch movies and listen to music.  We’d watch some crazy videos on TV and barbecue, but those days are long gone.

We’re so much older now. Duncan doesn’t crash on my couch anymore. My daughter Lorelei lives with me. Duncan stays at 5 star hotels now. He’s successful. We’re middle-aged. No more crazy times. We still enjoy laughing our asses off at our own jokes and finding things to get into in the city.

But it’s different now. There’s no AC/DC concert today. (Those guys are too old and banged up to play anymore!) Just us. I have to run my business. He’s on the phone with his team at Well Fargo.

But they can’t take our core from us. When he finishes working out in my gym on Walnut Street, we’re going to go drink at City Tap House and get the hookup from my man Zach.

As we get older I see that Duncan has become so much more patient and less impetuous from our younger years. He’s putting up with the fact that I have a different lifestyle now. A salon and fitness center needs attention beyond the 9 to 5 we were so accustomed to.

We do get some special guests that show up unexpectedly

There was this delicious slender Kuwaiti girl who started tanning here last season that suddenly shows up with her friends late in the day. We know these babies come from rich families because there is no other way they could be here in Philly right now.

“Hey do you remember me?”

Shahed?

“Well done! Is it Charles?”

“Well done!”

I have brought my friends with me!”

(They’re all smoking hot)

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I’m stupid happy to see Shahed again and her hot friend Baba and send them both to tan. There is another girl there named Malak that blows them both aways and is Kardashian Hot. Raven hair, milky skin, lips, tits, and body all amazing.

Duncan is a good-looking and fit man but clueless when it comes to the fairer sex, so I lead in with just some general questions.

I don’t want the non tanner to feel threatened or isolated from her friends.

We have a great conversation. I light it like always. She’s a finance major and Duncan is  CFA god, so she’s fascinated. If these guys could just turn their work gifts into picking up girls gifts they’d be fine but they can’t join the two, Sales and power is the same thing. They just don’t connect and can’t see that sales and dating are the same things.

I help him and I can see he;s actually doing well with this Persian cutie.

I love Duncan. My goal has always been same since the 90’s is. If he’s going to make the trip here, give him everything you can. I’ve always trued to do that every time.

I’ll never forget the moment when the girls were done tanning and they all just perched around Duncan like pretty birds and chatted with us. We discussed different restaurants.

They spoke of a really good restaurant in University City that served food that was similar from where they came from.

I joked that we had no idea where it was so they should take us there. surprisingly they seemed cool with that. (Only I could close that)

They are all gorgeous middle eastern babies and I loved the time we spent with them but in the salon. But like my own life, everything is fleeting.

We may never see them again. But surprisingly the Kardashian did inquire about personal training. So that could be a miracle in 2019.

All of these girls are super smart and will take all of their gifts back to Kuwait, But I do have a plan to take one of these girls out to gelato at Gran Caffee L’ Aliquila.

I know. I want to do it. I really want Shahad, but I’d settle on the tall one who keeps looking at me.

I don’t care.

I’ll figure it out like I always do.

The birds giggle away and bound down the steps. I plot my next move. I don’t share this with Duncan, but I’ll eventually tell him how I deflowered at least one of these sweet girls.

I wrap it up at the salon, and Duncan has stretched himself and worked his body out hard enough that he’s ready to be in the next Mission Impossible movie. I think Duncan has really enjoyed the presence of these fresh Kuwaiti babes.

Smart and beautiful. I know Duncan and I find them both intoxicating. But the presence of these girls is what it is and we must let go.

We lock the salon and make our way to City Tap House. My man Zack is behind the stick and I know my Manhattans are FREE.

We hit this big sports bar and Duncan follows my lead. We luck out and land a pair of seats at this enormous sports bar. Tons of tables and a bar that goes on forever

I spot Zack and he’s running. We are here on the day before the Superbowl . It’s a celabratory mess. But my boy Zack is running. I don’t even think he see’s me/my friend. Duncan is happy we got some seats.

Suddenly a Manhattan neat lands in front of me with a brandied cherry at her core. I want to take her so bad. Hot bartender Nicole grabs Duncan and they settle on a draft.

I’m so happy to be with my friend. He gets his beer and asks the server for a plate of carrots and celery. I don’t get it. A side of wings would have worked for me. But for the last 20 years, what ever my friend wants. Normally all he wants is my six-gun ribs, but I never make that anymore.

We hang at the bar. Zach is God. (And when I say God… I mean Free Bulliett Rye Manhattans with a brandied berry)

I chat with lovely Devon and she tells us that most events are ticketed so we’re fucked for the Superbowl. (But we’ll figure it out)

Our bar bill is zero.

We’re happy. But Duncan needs comfort food so we go to Marathon at 16th and Sansom.

He destroys a salad and helps me with an order of mac n cheese that is a $10 dish. Clearly my boy doesn’t eat enough.

My boy Brandon (Beverage Manager for all three locations) stops by the table and says hello. So that one Manhattan’s is free. I get my favorite barbeque chicken sandwich and we’re good. I tell them my Marathon Reward Card doesn’t work and they give me another one. (That one failed too, but we’ll figure it out) I don’t give a shit as long as my friend is happy… I’m happy.

My friend Francesca stops by the table. (See: Francesca – 2014 to Present – Monday Feels Like Friday) She and some other of her co-workers got laid off at her job, so I hooked her up with a job here at Marathon. She used to waitress down the shore in college so she’s already a seasoned pro here. I tell her we’re going back to the Hotel Palomar to hang at Square 1682 after dinner. She says if she gets cut early she’ll swing by for a drink.

Duncan and I have evolved in our friendship. We used to get plowed and hit South street. Now we go to better eateries and bars and sip fine liquor and eat better food. Just a couple of middle-aged men that don’t like a too much noise or drama.

From Tattooed Moms to the Ritz Carlton. Duncan points this out to me. I like it.

There is a peacefulness in middle age. I love that we’ve both finally arrived there together.

I don’t see Duncan for long periods of time but I fucking love this guy. I hope I know him until I die. He’s one of the best people I know.  Just a good man who I’m glad has chosen to keep me in his life.

Dinner is great and our waitress is a doll. We close with one more at Square 1682 at his hotel.

Tomorrow is the Superbowl and we have no plan. We have no tickets to anything, and I’m working until 4pm so we’re basically fucked.

I need to come up with a plan for me and my friend tomorrow. He’s come up here for his 50th birthday and the Eagles are in the Superbowl.

They’ve never won.

They’re playing against the 5 times winning New England Patriots. Apparently Tom Brady is the most hated man in sports since Derek Jeter.

I need to come up with something. I don’t want my friend to be disappointed tomorrow. Every bar in the city will be packed and insane. I don’t finish at the salon until 4pm.  Anybody that wants to watch the Super bowl should already have staked out there space at the bar somewhere.

Duncan has put up with me working through his birthday/Superbowl weekend already. I just feel like I’m failing him as a host and a friend. But I have to do what needs to be done and we’ll make it work just like we always do. But I still feel bad that I don’t have a plan for the Superbowl.

But there is something between us where when we’re pressed against a wall, we always prevail.

Tomorrow is Superbowl Sunday and we will make it work.

We always do and it’s glorious.

We’ve done it before and we’ll do it again. Just like we always do.

 

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Wildwood Daze – Winter of 1979 – Time With My Only Friend

“A selfish unforgiving decision had been made against my life.”

Jim and I remained friends. I would walk up to his house at 19th and Central Aves. every morning and we would walk to school together. We were close. I always felt a deep connection with Jim.

There was nothing open in Wildwood in 1979 after the season ended. I have no idea what the kids did here when not in school. I did notice a high level of drinking, drug use and teen pregnancy. So it was basically like living in an affluent rural area. An odd dichotomy.

School was going well for both of us. Me the fresh transplant from Philly, and him out of middle school and now in high school. Jim never felt younger to me. He always felt like a mature thoughtful, brooding equal.

We would just walk the streets at night of this resting resort town that felt like a ghost town to me for the first time. I had only known Wildwood as a full on circus every summer. This was its dark underbelly. A lonely empty place. We both did the best we could on this deserted island.

In the windy nights on the Cape we really got to know each other. We’d frequent the local haunts. There was a pizza place at 15th and New Jersey Aves. that was open all year round. We’d eat slices and drink sodas there. We’d go to the bowling alley. There was place called the Sundance around 26th and New Jersey Aves. Kids would gather there and eat and sip sodas. At least it was warm. Something to do.

We never bowled there, we’d just sit and talk and look at girls.  Sometimes we’d end up at the 7 Eleven downstairs and talk to some weird clerk there we named Scoodly because that was entertaining to a couple of teenage boys. He was a bit eccentric and we got a kick out of him. But it always felt good to get a frozen soft pretzel from the freezer and pop it into the microwave. A sweet reminder of my lost city of Philadelphia.

My greatest memories of hanging with Jim in the dead of winter back then in this godforsaken wasteland was at that very bowling alley. We’d sneak into the little lounge they had there. There was always a live band playing in there and it was fun to watch older guys and girls play. We were just so fascinated by live music and bands that were working and do it.

We’d slip in and check out the latest band playing top 40. The music was not what we were into but it at least felt like something we were interested in. Sometimes we’d last longer than other times. I was 17. Jim was 15. But he looked older. The drinking age in Jersey back then was 18. Unbelievable by today’s standards. But I looked so young with my baby face but Jim could pull it off. We’d get a few beers and watch the set and do our best to be cool and hang in, but there was always that point after about two beers we’d be suspect.

I’d get tossed first and then they’d ask Jim for ID and he couldn’t provide either so out we’d go.

But we’d always go back because we wanted to see live music, and there was NOTHING in Wildwood to do in the winter back then. It was a horrible place to live as a teenager. A selfish unforgiving decision had been made against my life.

One night we met this guitar player in one of the lounge acts that was playing in that place. He was older but so nice to us. We told him how we were musicians and picked his brain about music. It just felt good to talk to older guys that were doing what we wanted to do. But not exactly.

“Jim, I would rather kill myself than play top 40 in a fucking bowling alley for a living. I want to be a band that plays in big bars and then tours and them makes records.”

“Yea.”

“I just would never want to have to play all of that shit for a living.”

“You need to get a real guitar.”

“What? My shit’s real.”

“It’s a Sears Silvertone kid’s electric guitar, Chaz.”

“Yea but I learned on that. I like it. It has good action.”

“It’s a fucking toy guitar. If you really want to play rock, and you’re serious about this you should get a proper instrument.”

“Alright well. I guess. I could start to look at instruments.”

“I play a Strat. It’s a really good versatile instrument.”

“Yea… your Fender’s awesome. Brown and functional. I think I’d like something a little flashier.”

“Well that’s up to you. It’s your money, but your guitar is shit.”

Yea, I guess you’re right.”

Suddenly we are approached by the bar manager.

“You guys got some ID?”

Jim and I do a simultaneous bottoms up with our beers and run out of the bar laughing.

I’m happy I have a friend and at least I have the bonus of him being a sensitive and funny musician like myself. Musician. Who and I kidding? I’ve only been playing guitar of six months.

But I’m learning fast.

Maybe I need to look at getting a real guitar.

So I can get this dream going….

 

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Wildwood Daze – Autumn of 1979 – Shadows Fall

“Whatsoever I’ve feared has
Come to life.
Whatsoever I’ve fought off
Became my life.”

I was doing well in Frankford back in Philly. I had a life. I had a band and friends. All ripped from me. Don’t worry, I’ve forgiven all of the fuckers in my life in my forties, but I’m just documenting what happened. You live through it and try to rise above it.

After the summer of 1979, which was awesome, (Just like all of my summers. Thanks dad!) It was my first Fall/Winter away from Philly and living in a resort/retirement town which was Wildwood, New Jersey. That’s completely different from living in a city.

I’m isolated. I have anxiety and depression. The summer is over. I have no friends. I have no life. I have no band. All of the things I loved are gone.

Just like that.

My older sister Janice is facing her own challenges but she’s off at Franklin and Marshall college to go forward in her life. I’m stuck here now. My younger sisters are at Margaret Mace. They’re little kids. They’ll be fine. They’ll make a life and new friends. They’re little. Who cares. They’ll be fine.

But I’m a fucking senior in a High School in a shitty town that is only good for summer fun. I know one guy. A freshman who is a fourteen year old guitar player. I don’t know if this is even going to work. The guy looks older than me and I like him but aren’t we in two different places in our lives?

School was weird. I went from being the mighty burner in 11th grade chatting up chicks when I was in a band, and doing pretty well, to nothing.

I was well aware of my anxiety. I had been by the cold embrace of that demon since I was 6 years old. Knew him well. An insidious beast that controlled my every move. My own personal prison that I was always trying to escape from but to busy vomiting to let go of the bars of my own cell.

Wildwood in the summer is fantastic. That’s the only way I had ever known the town since 1970. Non stop fun. Sun, fun, beach, amusement rides on the boardwalk, summer friends and neighbors, kites, custard, movies, just an amazing life at the circus for two months.

Wildwood after Labor day was a desolate ghost town. My life was over. Janice…college. April and Gabrielle, kid school. Who cares. They haven’t formed any real relationships in life. They’ll be fine.

Me. Senior year in a school I know nothing about. Alone. Anxiety. Depression. Cold. Not the fun shore town I only knew during the summer months. This was desolate place. They would turn off the traffic lights and the place was an empty ghost town. To me this was a nightmarish prison I had been dropped off in because of someone elses little idea to escape Philly.

I think the only one that felt the fury of this burn was my mother. Because she was so connected in our old neighborhood with all of the ladies, I think she felt the isolation as well. But like my mother always did. She suffered in silence. She was so good at that. She had been through so much of my father’s wrath and nonsense, that she had become comfortable with being a prisoner of his OCD and anxiety and narcissism. She simply folded into the lifestyle.

I know I have crazy anxiety, but at that time I didn’t even know that anxiety and depression are best friends. I’m afraid and sad. I’m a victim of my weakness and fear and my depression is just my rage just turned inward because I don’t know what to do with it and I don’t want to get in trouble if I let my rage go.

I had a terrible temper when I was growing up, but because I was so beaten down by my father I just turned it inward because I was too scared to express my feelings.

He always said, ” Don’t be a victim.”

But that’s what he exactly shaped me into with his behavior toward me. I actually felt these word when he was screaming at me and hitting me.

Oh the irony!

One morning I came down to breakfast and I was just sad. I didn’t know anybody but Jim and I was just living in a ghost town going to a school where I didn’t know anybody at 17.

I didn’t even know I was depressed. I just felt disconnected and sad. I think that’s a normal reaction for a kid that once had a life and a band and friends in a city and got dropped off in a fucking ghost town because of somebody else’s idea.

My mom was fine, because she had already been broken years ago by this man.  But I was a teenage boy who was trying to find his way.

I was eating my cereal, and he just lit into me. Out of nowhere. I don’t know what ignited him. He loved to attack at meal time. My mother knew. He started in on me because I seemed unresponsive. I didn’t know I was depressed because what had happened to me, I thought I was just weak  just like always.

My father tore into me and told me to buck up and pull myself together.

I started to cry just like I always did when he was harsh with me. I looked over at my mother and her eyes were wet with tears. Hardened by years of dealing with his bullshit and affairs but she saw one of her own feeling his nonsense and wrath. I had gotten better and become a better person and my mother and I had become so much closer in the last few years.

But dad didn’t want a kink in his little plan. He couldn’t have any part of his plan fucked up. No. Everybody has to be compliant. I was sad and that is unacceptable because that would make him question his intentions of moving everybody to the shore and would work on his mind.

Super OCD and insecurity.

I was crying my eyes out into my cereal and he really let me have it. He didn’t like that I was sad about the whole move to Wildwood. That fucked with his whole plan. That can’t happen. That’s not supposed to happen according to his well thought out plan.

He can’t have a weak link. But my mom knew. She had already accepted him as the solid provider that was going to fuck his secretaries wherever he went because of his own insecurities. She knew it and accepted it and suffered in silence.

I remember many years later I had an opportuniy to fool around with a woman while I was in a relationship. I didn’t do it. He asked me why I didn’t take advantage of the available ass. I told him:

“Because that would be wrong, dad.”

He actually softened and said he was proud of me. I know in that moment he knew that he had raised a boy that wasn’t a fucking cheater like him. He actually looked surprised.

So that Autumn morning before school my father ripped me a new one because I wasnt on board with his bullshit dream of escaping the city and all of the bad loans they made at the Provident National Bank. That and his girlfriends. Eileen Lentz and the others.

He got up from the table and went off to work. I sat sobbing in my Cap’n Crunch with my mother.

“I’m sorry.   He got you.”

“It’s okay, Mom.”

I smiled and took a spoonful.

“It is what it is.”

The silence is deafening. I can’t keep these thoughts out. My father spent his entire life keeping it out. Never fixing. Just banishing them. Covering. Burying.

But I felt it all… and so did my mother.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

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Wildwood Daze – Summer of 1979 – Starting Over

I was working as a busboy at the Dolphin Restaurant for the second summer in a row. One season as a Pool boy at the El Morro Motel was enough. Greek owned restaurant. Solid food. Nice hard-working people. It was what it was. I was in love with one of the waitresses named Therese. (Pronounced: Terez so it’s even hotter.) She had killer legs and was one year older than me. She had a boyfriend that was in college so basically to me she was dating a grown man. I could never compete with John. Therese was always so nice to me. I would joke around with her sometimes. She was totally cool with my dark sense of humor because she knew I was a good guy that was in love with her. I’d make cracks like:

“Wow, sorry to hear about John in that boating accident.”

“What? He wasn’t in a boating accident!”

“Oh, right… that’s next week.”

—————————————————————————

Spending all summer in Wildwood was every kid’s dream. I was 16 going on 17 just like that Liza Von Trapp girl.

Two blocks from my house was an arcade called Botto’s. We fucking lived in there. The owner was a guy named Joe Botto, a retired Philly cop. He was a cool dude considering 90% of his customers were a bunch of kids. He liked us because we were nice respectful boys for the most part. It was a pretty simple setup. Walls lined with a juke box that played 45’s, (Google it youngsters) Pinball machines, and video games. (Galaxion, Pac Man, Space Invaders, etc.) In the middle of the room was a pool table. I spent many a happy hour in that wonderful place. Obviously no cell phones back then but there was a payphone outside. If I wasn’t home, at the beach, working, or up the boardwalk, the only other place you could find me was at Botto’s. I’d be hitting free games on a pinball machine called Flash. That was my favorite machine of all time.

Sometimes there’s be some little guys in there. Eleven and twelve-year olds. We were like their idols. But I knew guys that were twenty and twenty-one and they were my idols. It’s just a pecking order in young men. We gave the little guys nick names, Chicken Man, Snappy Organs, and Slim Gonads. Chicken Man is a name I came up with. It started one day on the beach. I’d be hanging at the beach with my friend Tony, and this little skinny blonde kid would run up from the ocean and tackle him. I have no idea in regard to the origin of this ritual.

Tony would jump up, grab him and tackle him in the sand. Toss him around and roll him in the sand. He called it, “Shake and Bake.” I don’t know if they still have Shake and Bake but back then there was a cooking product named that. You buy a bag of this premixed seasoning, throw some chicken parts in the bag, shake it and then bake the chicken in the oven sans bag. Very popular.

So when this kid would do this to Tony on a weekly basis, it became a thing. Soaking wet he would jump on Tony, I’d yell Chicken Man is here! Tony would tackle him back telling it was time for “Shake and Bake.” The kid would so covered in sand he looked like a skinny little chicken right out of the bag covered in seasoning. He was a nice kid and it was all good fun. Just boys doing horseplay. I don’t remember the kid’s real name, and apparently that nickname stuck with him his whole life. (In and endearing way) Because to this day I hear my family still refer to that guy as Chicken Man.

The other kid in this little crew was Snappy Organs. I don’t remember what his real name was either. But I do remember him being a bit hyper and known to be short-tempered at times. So he’s be snapping out about some nonsense so I just started calling him Snappy Organs. I have no idea where that came from, the organs part. Maybe something I saw on Monty Python.

The third kid, Slim Gonads. I think his name was Frankie Breslin for some reason. He didn’t have a nickname like his other two buddies and asked if I’d give him one. I just looked at him and said: Slim Gonads. Just like that. No idea. He was skinny and gonads is a funny word. He was like: “Cool! GO-Nads!” Like it was some sort of sporting cheer or a war cry. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that his nickname literally translated to: “Slender testicles.”

While we’re on the subject of kids, there was another kid that we used to see around. He was super pale so he looked way out-of-place in a summer resort town. He always wore a hat like his mom didn’t want her baby to burn. They must have also had money because he was the only kid that rode around on a Moped.

He cruises by one day, and my friend Tony is like, “There goes Don on his Moped. Look at those big lips. Hey! Steven Tyler! Ha ha ha! Slurp! (Oh, yea, that was Tony’s laugh: Ha ha ha ha…then he would slurp. It was fuckin’ weird)

Don just looks at him and keeps on rolling by.

“I wish I had a Moped.”

“No you don’t Tony. Mopeds are gay.” (Everything was gay back then)

“Why?”

“You either ride a motorcycle or drive a car. There’s no in between. Having a Moped is like dating a fat chick. Sure they’re both a lot of fun when you’re on them, but you don’t want you friends seeing you on them.”

“Point taken.”

————————————————————————

One day before work I’m blazing through a game of Flash at Botto’s. Snappy Organs comes in and stands next to the machine to watch me play.

“Didn’t you say you played guitar?”

“I did.”

“Do you want to start a band?”

“With you?”

“No. I know some guy from the neighborhood and he plays guitar too. I told him about you. He’s in some other band right now and they kind of suck. I think he wants to do something else.”

“Well you tell him to come here and meet me and we can chat.”

“Cool! I will.”

“Hey Snap. I racked up a few free games on here. I gotta go to work. They’re yours.”

“Really? Thanks!”

I head off to work thinking about that last transaction. I know Snappy will come through and set it up. These kids are super loyal to us. Let’s see who this guy is and what he’s all about. Who knows? Could be the next phase of my musical journey.

I walk into the restaurant through the back door. One of the cooks is standing out there smoking a fat joint. He offers but I pass. I wasn’t a huge fan of weed back then. That, and I have to work! I can’t be high busing tables! I’ll be giggling and thinking everyone’s staring at me!

I put on my little apron. I walk through the kitchen and out the swinging doors. It’s early. Before the dinner rush. The people plow in here. Eat and then head to the boardwalk. It all happens from 6 to 8pm and then it’s over.

Oh, there’s Therese. She smiles. God, I love her.

I know… I’ll write a song about her!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am &12pm EST.

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Wildwood Daze – Summer of 1979 – Moving the Family to North Wildwood

My father was fed up with living in Philadelphia and wanted to get out of the city and out of the Provident National Bank in center city. My family was focused on getting my sister Janice into Franklin Marshall because she was a good student.

I remember it was Janice that drove my mother and other two sisters to the shore that summer. With Janice out of high school and in college, Dad decided to move the whole family to the shore house. I liked living in Philly. I was in a band called Renegade then. (See: Renegade – My First Band) All my friends were there. I liked that I was going to be a senior at Frankford High next semester.

But all of that was ending for me. I would vanish from Frankford and end up taking my Senior year at Wildwood High School. I knew no one. Wildwood is a resort/retirement community. The place rocks hard from Memorial Day through Labor Day, but then it becomes a ghost town. At the time I knew what anxiety was. I had it since I was a small child. But I would really get to know what severe depression was very soon.

They didn’t give a shit about my life because I was always a poor student in school and was a nobody. So After 11th grade we moved to Wildwood NJ for good. I had to leave my band Renegade behind and all of my friends, and move to the shore.

My father had no coping skills so ripping his son from his peronal and social life meant nothing to him. Everybody had to be hunky dory and happy with his move. His dad died, (My grandfather) and left him enough cash to build up on the shore house and it was beautiful. (Biggest house on the block)

But after the summer at the shore, Janice went off to college. My dad was all teary eyed losing his love and I was left to take my senior year not knowing anyone in a town that was dead during the winter. It’s a resort town. There is NOTHING going on there in the winter. They turn the traffic lights off and roll up the fucking sidewalks. This is a perfect dark depressing environment to be dropped off in. Yea, that will work out great. But as long as Dad is out of Philly and has his family all set up down there, he’s all set.

I remember falling into a depression after the summer and my father ripping me a new one because I wasn’t on board with where I had been sent. God forbid anybody would put a chink into daddy’s plan. He always hailed himself as a planner. It was just his mad OCD and anxiety that made him so insecure that he had to control everything because he was never the favorite beloved son like his brother Jack. He was forced to man up his whole life. He worshiped his father like he was Superman and his dad never gave two shits about him. Brother Jackie was the smart one and Dad was just the elder that had to handle all of the shit his mother was to cowardice to do. He was the one that had to go to his father and tell him that they weren’t coming back from the shore because they were getting divorced. I have this guy completely mapped out. My sister Janice loves and worships him, but I know the real deal.

Fuck. I didn’t think I was going to go there.

(Update: This opinion of my dad as a diety has changed for Janice.)

 

 

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Dating and Relationship Advice – 7 Actions It’s Better to Avoid When Fighting With a Loved One

It’s so easy to hurt a person with a word or an action during a fight. The resentment can linger for much longer after the fight is over, ruining the relationship.

We chose 7 things you should never ever do while fighting with your loved ones.

7. Don’t include other family members in your fights.

7 Actions It’s Better to Avoid When Fighting With a Loved One

Your fight concerns only the 2 of you and no one else. By drawing your parents into the conflict you risk turning a regular fallout into a real family mess. Even if harmony returns to your relationship, the other members of the family will most likely remember everything and will use that against you or your partner when given a chance.

 

6. Avoid violence.

7 Actions It’s Better to Avoid When Fighting With a Loved One

While fighting, people tend to show the worst sides of their character. Some, trying to prove themselves right, resort to violence. Don’t allow yourself or your partner to use violence, no matter how angry you might be with each other. The physical pain caused by a loved one will kill all the feelings that once bound you.

 

5. Don’t mix it all up.

7 Actions It’s Better to Avoid When Fighting With a Loved One

If the main cause of the fight is a pile of unwashed dishes, then let it stay that way. Do not remind your partner of all their prior wrongdoings — this is a way to turn a minor domestic issue into a big ugly conflict. In addition, your partner may have a logical question: do I need to continue a relationship in which there are so many demands?

 

4. Never ever talk about a divorce.

7 Actions It’s Better to Avoid When Fighting With a Loved One

When you say “Let’s divorce” during a fight, this can become the biggest insult ever. These words may hurt the feelings of your partner really badly. And the more often you say them, the faster the divorce will actually occur. If you love each other, never talk about parting.

 

3. Never leave the house in the middle of a fight.

7 Actions It’s Better to Avoid When Fighting With a Loved One

Simply leaving the house during a fight will only show how uncomfortable you feel staying under the same roof as your partner. Slamming the doors, running into the darkness, leaving the conflict unresolved — this all will make your partner think twice about your level of maturity. It’s way better to wait until you both calm down, and then you can discuss everything as adults.

 

2. Do not go to bed separately.

7 Actions It’s Better to Avoid When Fighting With a Loved One

By going to sleep separately, you show that you are not ready to make up. The daily routine, such as going to bed together, will ease the atmosphere and quickly resolve the conflict. You may end up lying back to back at first, but in the morning you will wake up in each other’s arms without the tiniest hint of last night’s fight.

 

1. Never fight in public.

7 Actions It’s Better to Avoid When Fighting With a Loved One

If you allow yourself and your partner to fight in a public place then, most likely, you do not respect each other or the surrounding people. Do not take skeletons out of your closet in public. It’s way better to talk about your issues at home.

 

Was this helpful? I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments on this post!

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am and 12pm EST.

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Dating and Relationship Advice – 12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

Research shows that the first impression is formed within 7 seconds of meeting somebody. If you have a job interview, the manager can make a decision about hiring you in just 30 seconds. Avoiding the common mistakes that ruin this first impression could increase your chances of finding a job, a friend, a client, or a life partner.

I collected some common blunders that can make you appear rude, bored, selfish, and annoying in the eyes of a person you meet for the first time. Read this list through to the end to find out how to avoid errors and use your 7 seconds wisely.

1. Weak handshake

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

Limp handshakes can be a real killer of the first impression. Research shows that people with a weak handshake are judged as being shy, anxious, less open, and lacking any ability. Another common mistake people make is holding the other person’s hand for too long. If you want to succeed, give a firm handshake and follow the two-second-rule.

2. Wrong hand position

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

Mind the position of your hands while sitting. You can put your hands in your lap, but don’t put them in your pockets because it will suggest that you are hiding something. If you put your hands on the table, don’t squeeze your hands too tight or put your palms down, it could indicate that you want to control the interviewer.

Also, while placing hands on the table and loosely folding them is an appropriate and even preferrable position in the Western world, this gesture would be considered rude in Japan and India.

3. Chewing gum

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

If a person sees you for the first time and you are chewing gum, they might think you are sombebody that is immature, childish, and somewhat lower class. Chewing gum is a bad idea at a job interview. However, in less formal circumstances, people chewing gum are usually evaluated as more friendly and approachable.

4. Avoiding eye-contact

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

Eye-contact is a powerful tool for making a good first impression. Research shows that people maintaining eye contact while talking and listening are often judged as more confident and intelligent. People avoiding eye contact, on the other hand, are viewed as less sincere, less attractive, and more anxious.

5. Playing with your hair

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

While women have been shown to touch their hair up to 18 times a day, playing with hair can send the wrong signal to the person you’re sepaking with. While it’s often used as a flirting technique, it can also indicate anxiety, low self-esteem, stress, and discomfort. When playing with hair becomes repetitive and obsessive, it can even signal an impulse control disorder.

6. Wrong conversation topics

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

There are some taboo topics which won’t help you make a good first impression on anyone: health problems, money, religion, ex-bosses or ex-partners, politics, or personal life and problems. Try not to focus the conversation only on yourself and don’t forget to listen to the person you’re speaking with.

7. Invading personal space

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

Physical space is the distance you make between you and the person you’re speaking with. Researchers distinguish four levels of personal space. The distance between you and the person you’ve just met at a formal meeting should be about 4 to 12 feet. If you approach the other person too closely you may seem aggressive, while standing too far away shows you aren’t interested.

8. Making distracting noises

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

Any random sounds you make, like tapping your foot, tapping your fingers, or cracking your knuckles may be annoying and distracting to others. Tapping can indicate nervousness, irritation, or impatience, and can also suggest that you are lying or trying to irritate others. While cracking knuckles can help you relieve stress, it’s one of the top most annoying sounds, according to a survey conducted by The New York Times.

9. Frequently checking your watch or cellphone

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

The average person checks their phone 110 times a day! Yet, it’s very impolite to check your phone or watch during a conversation. It shows that you are not interested in the other person, that you are bored, and that you have better things to do. Research shows that even having your phone on the table next to you reduces a conversation’s quality and engagement.

10. Forgetting names

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

It is embarrassing if you forget a person’s name, especially if this person remembers yours. To avoid this, immediately repeat the name after the introduction like: “Hi, Anna! Nice meeting you.” Don’t use the excuse that you are terrible with names, if you are interested in the other person the name will stay in your head.

11. Being late

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

When you arrive late, you give the impression that you are unreliable, bad with planning, don’t value others’ time, and lack commitment. Try to manage your time in a way that you won’t be anxious about being late and won’t need to rush. Even when you arrive on time but had to run before that, you won’t be centered and focused enough.

12. Bad attire

12 Things That Destroy a First Impression Immediately

Statistics says that 55% of the first impression is based on your appearance. Some studies show that your appearance, height, weight, hair color, and amount of make up can influence the size of your paycheck. If you meet somebody for the first time try to be conservative and neutral in your choice of clothing, be polished, and don’t use heavy perfume.

Do you recognize yourself in any of those descriptions? Which of these points would ruin your opinion about a person with no hopes of improvement? Which points should be added to this list? Share your opinions and experiences in the comments.

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day at 8am & 12pm EST.

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