Hello everyone, my name is John and this will be my first blog post. Let me warn you in advance however that I am not the smartest man to have walked the earth. I just tell stories mostly. Sometimes I just like to talk about my day and everything that went on. At the moment I am 18, unemployed and living with my parents. I know what you must be thinking, "Why would I read this guys blog? It sounds boring already." True. It might be boring and average but that is all I have ever really wanted in life. To be boring and average.
December 25th, 1998
December 25th, 1998
My life really began so to speak on December 25th 1998. Can't remember farther back than that anyways. that Christmas I recieved one of those plastic five foot high basketball hoops. I was so excited I could hardly stand it. I woke up that morning and remembered walking into my tiny living room in my two bedroom house. First thing I laid eyes on was that basketball hoop. Was quite hard to miss honestly, took up about half the room. As I wondered how santa claus did it, how he really came into my house when we had no chimney, how he really made all the toys for all the boys and girls, my parents came up behind me and gasped with enthusiasm.
"John! Do you see all the presents santa got for you this year?! You must have been a really good boy!"
And I was. I always was. Had to be living in my houe. You see, my father wasn't the meanest man ever but he sure knew how to scare you into doing whatever it was he asked. Which he did so quite often I might add. He grew up with a tough as nails father and a less than enthusiastic mother. Now don't get me wrong I loved my grandma (never knew my grandpa you see) but she was pretty strict on the few occasions I did visit her. She lived about 750 miles away in Arizona, so we didn't really visit much. I do remember she made the best pies in the world though.
Rambling on my first blog entry, this ought to turn out well.
Anywho, when I turned around to my parents to get the truth about this santa claus character I heard a noise in the backyard. Sounded like someone tossing around furniture. My dad quickly throws his robe on and walks outside with the bat he kept oh so close to his bed. As he walked out the door, he was hit in the side of the head by a would be burglar. (I mean honestly, who steals from little kids on christmas?) Trust me, it takes a lot more than a tap on the head to keep my dad down. That's for sure. Anyway, after getting hit in the head by what I later found out was a two by four, my father turns around and swings full force at the burglar. Did I mention my dad played baseball in highschool?
December 28th, 1998
Flash forward a couple of days. We're in the hospital near downtown Dallas, TX. Visiting who else but the would be burglar my dad whacked a couple of days ago. Whacked him so hard he put the man into a coma. Now my mother being who she is, we absolutely had to go visit this man. She stayed mad at my dad for weeks after that incident. Why? I never understood. He stopped a burglar from stealing my basketball hoop! That's all I cared about at the time.
Anyways, so we're in this huge hospital visiting a man who tried to steal from us on Christmas. I don't remember the time exactly but I do remember when we got there and asked for his room (We found his name out by reading the papers on the 27th. "WOULD BE BURGLAR STOPPED BY FATHER OF TWO!") there were two people standing over his bed which we later discovered were his wife and daughter. His wife was bawling her eyes out when we came into the room. See, we didn't know he was in a coma yet. We didn't find that out until we actually got into the hospital. When my dad clocked his we just thought he knocked him out. Techniqually he did, but the man slipped into a coma a few days later. Anyways, when his wife noticed my father she asked him who he was.
"Are you a friend of Brian's? Family? You'll have to excuse me if I don't recognize you... I'm pretty shaken by all this" she says to my father.
"Um.. Actually I'm the guy who did this to him. I wanted to come and apologize for what I did." my father tells her.
Suddenly the room got really quiet, even the sobbing stopped as she started at my father with her eyes as big as saucers. This is when I changed. When we all changed.
So yeah. That's the first "chapter" or "part" or whatever you want to call it of my blog/story. I just feel like I should explain to some people why I am the way I am. Who knows, I might find some old friends who could stumble upon this one day. But for now, I think I'll update it maybe once a day. Not like I have anything else to do.
So yeah if you like it, keep checking back for more of my interesting (although weird) life.