08 July, 2009

WHOOSH —Scary Memories

I know this may seem way off my current subjects, but memories come to you in weird ways... at off times. I was at the gym listening to a podcast of a favorite show, ‘Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me!” while running and a guest was telling a story...not too unlike mine. Many years ago I joined the cub scouts, I think around 7 or 8 yrs old mainly to get away from my father. I am not really a "joiner," and have learned to like myself. I did not really like it the organization and especially the Christian based ideals masked to cover up the suburban nightmare that lay in wait, outside. They really preached hatred about who I am from birth. But I rarely saw anything in life that said I was ok by society standards, so I was swallowing my pride, once again. Not but about three months into it, the den mother quit to have a baby, or she fell off the wagon and my mom took it over. Now, it is bad enough being gay, but then your Mom is the den mother(I don’t know there was no fathers involved). I was outcast times two! I stuck with it for a year then quit. But in that time my Mom was a den mother, she got it into her head it would be a good field trip to take us to the downtown jail through the underground passageway from the courthouse. Finding some sadistic Guard or off duty policeman to show us around, and lock us each individually into a jail cell to scare us. I really can’t recall if he did show us an electric chair or not, because I have seen so many on TV, that it know seems like my memory. This, I later found out was because one cub was stealing, and it seemed like a good idea. It was at this time that I lost a prize possession, an antique copper Indian arm band, given to me by my best friend, Mark. He was America Indian and it was his grandfathers arm band who was dead. My Mom did not know at the time how sensitive and fragile I was, and it was for the good of our den. But I will never forget walking in a dark and steamy pipes passageway into hell. That jail was dark and dirty and spoke of unseen crimes. A journey that showed me yet another dark part of human existence and it worked for me. I have never been to jail!
jail photo courtesy of http://www.marlerblog.com

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