To me it seems simple when you look at Israel and its less than hospitable neighbours, sure some of the reasons for all the hate get complicated and slightly grey.
However reading about the recent conflict reminds me of the time when I was much younger when my friends and I where poking a yellow jacket’s nest at the back of my parents house for fun.
The yellow jackets where just going about their business of collecting food and keeping the hive healthy, that is until we decided to hammer the area their nest was located and then run seeing who was the first to get stung. Someone always did, and we eventually grew up with a respect for any insect with a stinger especially wasps.
It doesn’t take much brain power to see the similarities between Israeli’s and bees, dunderheads poke their “nest”, and they take flight and repeatedly “sting” those with the sticks.
Just like bees Israeli’s would like to just go about their business, but their always seems to be one dumbass that needs to poke their nest, or swat at them.
Myself I hate standing beside someone that has to swat at a bee just because it’s flying around them, why? Well sure as shit they swat I get stung.
Just like the civilians that are dead on the Lebanese side of the border they happened to be standing to close to those that like to swat, its as simple as that, sad but simple.
Trouble is some people never seem to learn.
Monday, July 17, 2006
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Benchmark Moments
Its times like these – hot Sunday afternoons, when the girlfriend’s headed home, or my girls are not around or are soon headed home to their mothers that I go into neutral mode contemplate life, and thank my lucky stars for all the simple things life has taught me to enjoy and cherish.
I’m a lucky son of a bitch, my kids have never been a terrible burden, they have carried more weight on their shoulders then they had to, and even when I’ve told them to take it easy and relax they still look at some things in life with the seriousness of someone twice their age.
I’ve never had to hear one bad parent- teacher interview (although there has been one bump maybe two that I will try to address later). To be honest I’ve actually had teachers look at my ex wife and I with disbelieve that we are so blessed, I kid you not.
I’m not bragging I’m giving public thanks for my good fortune with my daughters.
They have bestowed a gentle responsibility upon me. I’ve been lucky as a father of daughters to experience a metamorphosis of beauty a steadfast adherence to a healthy innocence, and a rising grace in my daughters over these past 15 years.
It all started with a purple screaming baby we named Maggie , I must have held her it seemed for an eternity and I just cried tears of wonder and joy and looked into her eyes. I used to fetch her come feeding time and in the moonlight that little cute loving smile would melt my heart with its innocence and heavenly honesty, as I reached down into her crib to deliver her to her mother.
Then ten minutes later she would re-enact a scene from the exorcist and spew projectile vomit four feet across the room- thank god the eruption would start with a belch from hell. Before long at the sound I learned to be across the room out of range.
Maggie grew like a weed, and it soon became apparent her heart seemed to be made out of gold. Her hard work at school always was apparent, along with her love of girl chatter that matched her hair color. It wasn’t up until grade seven, that some real negativity had to be confronted and squashed. That day I must say was a soul shaking experience for me, as it was my daughters first taste of pure disappointment from her father in who she thought she was, and that she was stepping onto the wrong path in britches she wasn’t near ready for yet.
It was a meeting she apparently wanted with the teacher herself and initially just her mother, my instincts told me I should also attend and I did. Maggie seemed to think her teacher was rather hard on her, my thought on that was so….. It was probably deserved after all she was a student in Grade 7 and life is like that learn to live with it.
Anyways I was a good ditch digger, small town , things are conservative dad and kept my emotions in check until the teacher made the attempt to be politically correct and give my daughter the chance to state her ( that I determined by know) trivial and adolescent concerns.
I then became rather agitated as the righteousness of the situation evaporated into a scene from liberal prime time. I then had to tell my daughter in no uncertain terms that her teacher seemed like a nice guy to me and she was in class to learn, and if she continued with this attitude (at twelve) she would be uptown pregnant wasting her life with the other spoiled brats that thought they knew everything and had nothing to learn. After I was done dressing her down, the pivotal moment came, which I think decided the course of my daughter’s maturity, the ability to mature, and the ability to face her own morality. That moment was derived by my ex wife by fours words “your dads right Maggie”.
I shudder at the thought of having one of those less intelligent, hell with what’s right type of women, that would have sided with my daughter. Then it would be me surrendering to a chaos that I would only win against if I sunk to its level something I would never do, as life looms over those that fail to see things are arranged in ways for a reason so we learn and become valuable men and women, assets not liabilities.
I never got a hug from my daughter that afternoon as we parted and after as I took along walk at the local beach. Searching my soul I came to the conclusion as I most always have that I made the right decision “forcefully holding” my daughter face down over the abyss she was in danger of creating for herself, and my ex wife helped her have a good look that afternoon as well.
I then stopped at my mom and dads and wholeheartedly apologized for the hell I put them thru when I was a late teen; of course they lovingly said that’s alright.
I’ve always got off so easy.
I see that day as the start of my daughters surrender towards reason and an awareness of the harshness of life when we skip steps in our thinking and just become selfish.
Myself I learnt just how my parents must have felt, when I behaved the same.
One thing about families that are aware and honest, valuable lessons wait for all involved to learn from.
Today two years later I was privileged to sit down at a table at my daughter’s place of work (her first job) with my parents and my girlfriend and listen to her boss say very pleasant things about my daughter.
As my daughter waited on our table, I looked into those wonderful love filled eyes- the same eyes fourteen years ago that twinkled in the moonlight along with her smile from her crib, just for me and again I was reminded of all the beautiful things many fathers miss.
I’m a lucky son of a bitch, my kids have never been a terrible burden, they have carried more weight on their shoulders then they had to, and even when I’ve told them to take it easy and relax they still look at some things in life with the seriousness of someone twice their age.
I’ve never had to hear one bad parent- teacher interview (although there has been one bump maybe two that I will try to address later). To be honest I’ve actually had teachers look at my ex wife and I with disbelieve that we are so blessed, I kid you not.
I’m not bragging I’m giving public thanks for my good fortune with my daughters.
They have bestowed a gentle responsibility upon me. I’ve been lucky as a father of daughters to experience a metamorphosis of beauty a steadfast adherence to a healthy innocence, and a rising grace in my daughters over these past 15 years.
It all started with a purple screaming baby we named Maggie , I must have held her it seemed for an eternity and I just cried tears of wonder and joy and looked into her eyes. I used to fetch her come feeding time and in the moonlight that little cute loving smile would melt my heart with its innocence and heavenly honesty, as I reached down into her crib to deliver her to her mother.
Then ten minutes later she would re-enact a scene from the exorcist and spew projectile vomit four feet across the room- thank god the eruption would start with a belch from hell. Before long at the sound I learned to be across the room out of range.
Maggie grew like a weed, and it soon became apparent her heart seemed to be made out of gold. Her hard work at school always was apparent, along with her love of girl chatter that matched her hair color. It wasn’t up until grade seven, that some real negativity had to be confronted and squashed. That day I must say was a soul shaking experience for me, as it was my daughters first taste of pure disappointment from her father in who she thought she was, and that she was stepping onto the wrong path in britches she wasn’t near ready for yet.
It was a meeting she apparently wanted with the teacher herself and initially just her mother, my instincts told me I should also attend and I did. Maggie seemed to think her teacher was rather hard on her, my thought on that was so….. It was probably deserved after all she was a student in Grade 7 and life is like that learn to live with it.
Anyways I was a good ditch digger, small town , things are conservative dad and kept my emotions in check until the teacher made the attempt to be politically correct and give my daughter the chance to state her ( that I determined by know) trivial and adolescent concerns.
I then became rather agitated as the righteousness of the situation evaporated into a scene from liberal prime time. I then had to tell my daughter in no uncertain terms that her teacher seemed like a nice guy to me and she was in class to learn, and if she continued with this attitude (at twelve) she would be uptown pregnant wasting her life with the other spoiled brats that thought they knew everything and had nothing to learn. After I was done dressing her down, the pivotal moment came, which I think decided the course of my daughter’s maturity, the ability to mature, and the ability to face her own morality. That moment was derived by my ex wife by fours words “your dads right Maggie”.
I shudder at the thought of having one of those less intelligent, hell with what’s right type of women, that would have sided with my daughter. Then it would be me surrendering to a chaos that I would only win against if I sunk to its level something I would never do, as life looms over those that fail to see things are arranged in ways for a reason so we learn and become valuable men and women, assets not liabilities.
I never got a hug from my daughter that afternoon as we parted and after as I took along walk at the local beach. Searching my soul I came to the conclusion as I most always have that I made the right decision “forcefully holding” my daughter face down over the abyss she was in danger of creating for herself, and my ex wife helped her have a good look that afternoon as well.
I then stopped at my mom and dads and wholeheartedly apologized for the hell I put them thru when I was a late teen; of course they lovingly said that’s alright.
I’ve always got off so easy.
I see that day as the start of my daughters surrender towards reason and an awareness of the harshness of life when we skip steps in our thinking and just become selfish.
Myself I learnt just how my parents must have felt, when I behaved the same.
One thing about families that are aware and honest, valuable lessons wait for all involved to learn from.
Today two years later I was privileged to sit down at a table at my daughter’s place of work (her first job) with my parents and my girlfriend and listen to her boss say very pleasant things about my daughter.
As my daughter waited on our table, I looked into those wonderful love filled eyes- the same eyes fourteen years ago that twinkled in the moonlight along with her smile from her crib, just for me and again I was reminded of all the beautiful things many fathers miss.
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