The Day My Dad Saved a Bully's Life

Listening to Queen's "Radio Ga Ga" recently got me to remembering a long ago event that I thought I'd share. Every time I hear this song I think of this memory--which has nothing to do with the song besides the fact that it was from the time that "Radio Ga Ga" was a hit song. This fact also helps me to date the memory to approximately spring of 1984 (the song was released in January of 1984 and would have been in heavy rotation by spring). It's interesting how something like a song or a particular scent can bring back a memory from long ago...

I would have been a freshman in high school in the spring of 1984. My father and I didn't do a lot of things together as father and son. He and my mother were big fans of flea markets and yard sales. They used to set up regularly at flea markets as a hobby and a way to make some extra cash on the weekend. When they weren't at flea markets selling their stuff, they would visit the various flea markets in the area. This one particular Sunday my mom must have been feeling under the weather. Dad took me to a flea market that day while she stayed home. I enjoyed it, though I don't recall finding or purchasing anything too memorable. It's just fun going and seeing what kind of stuff people will put out for sale--searching for that little gem mixed in with all the stones. After more than 25 years it seems understandable that I don't recall much specific about the wares for sale that day. One thing I do recall was that this trip took place during the time that Michael Jackson's "Thriller" album was still a huge hit (and that was a long stretch of time indeed). There were various cheap Michael Jackson knockoff products for sale along with the usual assortment of used items from people's houses and stuff like that.

So what does all this have to do with "Radio Ga Ga" and my Dad saving a bully's life? Well, nothing--but that part is coming up. After our visit to the flea market Dad and I got back in the car and headed back home. We were coming up to the top of the hill that our street was on and nearly home. There on the side of the road was a prone body lying on the ground with a female standing over it. The seemingly-lifeless body belonged to a member of my class who had taken a life-track that led to him becoming a bully and general trouble-maker. I actually remember being friends with this individual when we were very little, before our lives started to diverge into very different directions. Dad stopped to ask if everything was okay. The girl responded that everything was fine, but obviously it wasn't. Dad drove me the rest of the way up to the end of the street and dropped me off at home, then went back down the street. I went inside with a feeling of unease, not knowing if this person I knew was even alive or not. I went inside, turned on the TV and tried to pretend that everything was normal. I'm pretty sure that I either saw the video for "Radio Ga Ga" or heard it on the radio at this time (and thus the reason the song and this event are eternally connected in my mind).

Dad came home much later to report that he brought the bully (against his girlfriend's wishes) to the hospital. I'm not sure if it was drugs or alcohol, but he had overdosed on something, and he had to have his stomach pumped. Apparently he was going to pull through and be "okay". He did indeed return to school--at least long enough to drop out and go onto whatever he's doing today. I've always wondered if he had any idea that my Dad may very well have saved his life that day. Probably not. It's a shame he couldn't have taken advantage of that second chance to straighten himself out or something (or who knows, maybe he eventually did). It all just goes to show how much different the lives of two people can be. We had grown up in the same town, but because of various personal circumstances and choices we had become very different people. While I was being taken to a flea market by my father he was out drinking or shooting up on a Sunday afternoon.

Mr. Bully, if by some incredible coincidence you ever happen to read this blog and recognize yourself, I'd like to make you aware of something. Do you remember waking up in a hospital after being unconscious and having your stomach pumped? Do you know how it is that you ended up at the hospital? I just wanted to let you know that my Dad took it upon himself to bring you there that day. I don't know for sure that he saved your life. Perhaps you could have just slept it off on the side of the road. Perhaps someone else would have come along and brought you to the hospital or called an ambulance (though this did happen on a dead end street which didn't get much traffic). Perhaps your female companion would have finally decided that the situation was serious and taken the initiative to do something herself. I really can't say--but I can say that my Dad did take action that day which may very well have saved your life. Dad died three months ago and I can't help but think that your life and everything you've done since that day in 1984 is in some small way a part of my father's legacy. While a lot of time has passed and I have no idea where you are today or what you are doing, I just thought you should know what happened that day so long ago while "Radio Ga Ga" was playing...

Movies, Memories and My Dad

My father passed away recently after a long battle with cancer. Naturally I've been thinking about him a lot since he died. I've always regretted that we didn't spend more time together and that we weren't as close as we could have been, but at the same time I feel very lucky to have had him in my life for my first forty-one years.

Movies are (and have always been) an important thing in my life. While I have many, many great memories of watching all kinds of movies throughout my life, my parents haven't been a part of very many of those memories. I wrote about some of the films my sister took me to as a kid in Movies My Sister Made Me Watch, but in general I didn't really see a lot of movies with my parents. I'd like to share the movie-related memories that I DO have which involved my Dad. I'll split these recollections up into three parts: stories Dad told me, moviegoing experiences with my parents, and making up for lost time later in life.

Dad's Movie Stories

I'll only tell two of these stories here: one that I remember hearing many times since I was a Monster Kid, and one that I only heard a couple weeks before Dad died.

When I was a teenager (I believe) Dad must have realized how much I enjoyed going out to the movies with my friends and that movies had a certain importance for me. I remember him telling me this story on a number of occasions, and I always enjoyed it. Basically he just told me about how he would go to the movies as a kid during the Great Depression--when getting a little entertainment on the big screen could be a nice diversion from the realities of life. He always told me about the fact that it only cost a five cents to get in. Of course, a nickel went a lot further back then, but it was still a lot cheaper than the ten dollar-plus price of movie tickets today. It turns out that that nickel provided my Dad with a whole afternoon of entertainment--not just the movie he went to see. Before the feature at these kiddie-matinees there would be a number of cartoons. The cartoons were followed by some newsreels about current events in the world. Then there would be the latest installment of whatever serial was being run at the time. Finally, the movie would run. I always thought it sounded like a great way to spend a day in a darkened theater with a bunch of other kids all around you.

While I heard this story many times over the years, Dad told me another one for the first time just a couple weeks before he died. My Mother knows how much I love the movie "Psycho" (1960) and told me a few times about how scary it was to see it when it was new. Dad just recently told me the story of how they went to see "Psycho" at the drive-in. I guess they couldn't get a babysitter and had to bring my sister along with them. They thought she was soundly asleep in the back of the car. At least they thought so right up until the famous shower scene--when my sister poked her head between them to see what was going on and scared the crap out of them both!

Going To The Movies With Mom And Dad

I mentioned that I didn't actually go out to the movies a lot with my parents. This isn't to say that we NEVER went out to see movies together. Maybe it is because of the fact that it didn't happen all that often, but I have very fond memories of the times that they did take me to the movies.

I remember them taking me to see Disney's "The Gnome-Mobile". This somewhat obscure movie was released in 1967 (two years before I was born). After doing a little research I found out that it was apparently re-released in 1976. That would make sense, as I would have been either six or seven when we saw it--a perfect age for that movie. I remember having a great time watching it with Mom and Dad. Last year I was finally able to see the movie again (for the first time since seeing it with my parents as a kid) when I got it from Netflix and watched it with my Little Monster. It was a pretty emotional experience for me--remembering watching it with my parents, now introducing it to my own daughter, and thinking about the fact that my father was currently in the midst of his battle with cancer.

Another "kid's" movie I recall watching with my parents was "The Muppet Movie" (1979). I'm pretty sure we saw this on a Sunday afternoon, as I'm almost positive that we went to see it after visiting a flea market--where I bought a cool plastic toy version of an M-16 rifle! This is a movie I remember enjoying when we saw it, but one which I haven't seen in a long time. I suppose that I should take it out and introduce the Little Monster to this one too.

I also remember that we went on a couple of important (to me) shopping trips when I was young (to buy my first bike and to buy my first tape recorder). These shopping trips generally also included dinner and a movie. I remember going to IHOP (International House of Pancakes) the night we went to Child World to buy my first bike. I don't recall exactly what the movie was that we saw that night, but it might have been one of the Clint Eastwood orangutan movies "Every Which Way But Loose" (1978) or "Any which Way You Can" (1980). I can't recall which it was, but now that I look at the release dates, it was most likely the first one as 1978 was more likely when I would have gotten my first bike than 1980.

I have clearer memories of the night I got my first tape recorder. That tape recorder was a very important thing to me in the days before we got our first VCR in 1985. My parents took me out to K-Mart to get the tape recorder in March of 1981, and we also saw the Lily Tomlin movie "The Incredible Shrinking Woman" (1981). this is one that's hard to find these days. I think I saw it on TV way back in the 1980s, but otherwise haven't seen it in many years. It'll always be a part of a special night for me though.

I also went to the drive-in quite a bit as a kid. Back in the 1970s the drive-ins were on the wane, but there were still a lot of them around. Even my little home town of Uxbridge, Massachusetts had a drive-in of its own--The Quaker Drive-In. In addition, there were a number of other drive-ins within a half-hour drive of home. While I tend to remember going to the drive-ins with my older sisters (and later with my friends when we start driving ourselves), I do remember an important drive-in experience with my parents. Though I don't recall what movie it was paired with, in the summer of 1978 my parents took me to see "Star Wars" at the Quaker Drive-In. Of course "Star Wars" was released in 1977. for years I always assumed that my memory of seeing it at the drive-in was from the summer of 1977. For my 40th birthday we had a backyard drive-in party where we showed "Star Wars". I went to the library to try to find the drive-in ad from when saw it at the drive-in. I searched through every week the drive-in was open in 1977 and couldn't find "Star Wars" anywhere. I KNEW that I had seen it at the drive-in though. Then I tried 1978 and found ads for it playing the drive-ins that year. Dad had a big, yellow U.S. Postal Service van (not one of those little ones you see driving around these days, but a huge one that was more like the size of a UPS truck. He had turned the cargo area of the van into a camper--complete with a fold-down bed, a table, a sink and a toilet. I remember lying down in the back of the van, watching the movie up on the screen and playing with some of my "Star Wars" action figures.

My last memory of seeing a movie with my parents as a "kid" was when they took me and one of my best friends to see "Star Wars" again in 1987, when it was re-released for its tenth anniversary (and while I was a senior in high school). At the time, my friends and I were already going to the movies on our own, but it was a nice day spent with my parents that didn't feel as awkward as one might expect for a couple teenagers.

The Final Chapter

In the past couple of years I was lucky enough to have had an opportunity to re-acquaint myself with the idea of going to the movies with my parents. National Amusements movie theaters have a series of bargain-priced shows called "Silver Screen Classics".

They show an old movie (usually a Public Domain title, so they don't have to pay for it) on the big screen. It's only a DVD projection, but it's still a great program. For only two dollars you get to see the movie and you also get a small bag of popcorn, a small drink and a cookie! This series is mainly geared towards retirees, seniors and elderly people--as evidenced by the Monday at 1:00PM time slot of the movies, as well as the fact that most of the movies are from the 1930s to the 1950s. My parents started attending these shows a few years ago, and because of some luck in my schedule, I was able to join them a number of times. After my Dad was diagnosed with cancer they weren't able to get to the Silver Screen movies as often, but I made a point of trying to get to as many of the ones they did go to as I could. It all made for a great time and a good chance for me to spend more quality time with my parents than I had in a long time. It was also fun to see a bunch of classic (or not-so-classic) old movies of all types (war, musicals, comedies, film noir...) on the big screen for the first time (at least the first time for me--my parents remembered seeing many of them when they were first released). I was even able to hear my Dad's story about going to the movies for a nickel when he was a kid again! The last time we all went to the series was at the end of last October (a Halloween show that featured "Bride of the Gorilla" (1951)). Dad was hospitalized soon after, and while he managed to live for another six quality months, he was never quite up to going back to the movies. Last Monday I finally got back to the Silver Screen Classics show to see "Father's Little Dividend" (1951) with my mother. It was tough going without my father, but it was nice to go back there to remember him. I'm hoping we'll get to a lot more in the future.

Mom and Dad at the Blackstone Valley 14 cinema for the "Silver Screen Classics" show

Dreaming of a Better Life (or Should I Say Death?)

I know that this will be a different kind of blog from Monster Dad, and I apologize for going a bit "off-topic", but it's something I just wanted to share. If you read it, thank you. If you don't, I understand...

Like everyone else, I've had many, many dreams over my lifetime. Happy dreams, nightmares and just plain-old strange dreams have filled my sleeping head over the past few decades. I detailed a couple of my Recurring Nightmares in an earlier blog. Generally my dreams tend to be a bit too "abstract" to make much real sense. I couldn't count the number of times that I've awakened from a strange dream and thought about telling my wife about it--only to not be able to remember the details. It seems that they make so little sense that they simply dissipate into thin air almost the moment I wake up. I've thought of starting a dream journal. A few things have kept me from doing that. When I wake up I can't seem to snap into an instantly alert state that would allow me to start writing about what just "happened". Because of this I can't write fast enough to get it down on paper before it leaves my mind. Plus (and most importantly) I'm just too lazy to actually start a project like a dream journal.

I've occasionally had a dream that stayed with me long enough to remember. These seem to tend to be the more "mundane" dreams that are easier for the unconcious and conscious minds to reconcile with each other: they follow some logical or semi-realistic line, they obey the rules of physics, they seem to be rooted in reality... Of course, these are the dreams that are the most boring and least worth writing down and digging into for hidden meanings or messages.

One thing I've rarely, if ever, had is a dream that seems to have a deep, meaningful and obvious reason behind it (at least not the ones I remember). That changed last night. We've all heard about dreams where lost loved ones come back and give us a message of love or peace that helps us deal with the pain and suffering of the loss. Kind of like the "light at the end of the tunnel" stories of people who have near-death experiences, it's sometimes hard to know how seriously to take such dreams. Unless you're the one experiencing it, it seems to sound like a nice story--but you kind of wonder how much it really happened and how much the person just imagined it or wanted to think it happened. I'm not saying I don't believe any of these stories, dreams, experiences or whatever they might be--just that it's hard to think that something so meaningful and "concrete" can come out of a semi-conscious or unconscious state. After forty-one years, I've finally had my first experience with what I consider a truly meaningful dream--or at least one that I've decided had a real meaning for me anyway.

As I've mentioned, my father has been battling cancer for quite a while. This has obviously been a very stressful time for him, my mother and my entire family. Over the past year-and-a-half he has had both good and bad periods. It all seemed to be leading up to something none of us wanted to think about, but which was inevitable. Yesterday, the inevitable suddenly became a lot closer. My father took a turn for the worse. Without getting into all the specific details, it became obvious that the end was near. I went down to my parents' house to be with my Dad and stay with my mother so she wouldn't be alone in that situation. I stayed overnight and we spent most of the night trying to sleep between having to give Dad medications every two hours and listening for changes in his breathing or condition while trying to keep him as comfortable as possible. Needless to say, neither my Mom or I got much sleep.

But, during one of the short sleep periods when I was drifting into and out of consciousness I had an experience that I can only consider a dream. It seemed so real that I initially thought it actually happened--until I realized that was impossible. In the "dream" my parents were both in the bed that they were actually sleeping on in reality. I was lying on the same couch nearby that I was lying on in reality. The sounds, dim lighting and even smells in the room were the same as they were before I fell asleep. The dream was incredibly simple. Because of this (and the realistic nature of it) I initially just accepted what had happened as being part of reality. So what happened? Very simply, my Dad sat up in bed, swung his legs over the side and stood up. He was fully dressed and looked healthy and happy. I believe that he slipped on a jacket and started walking across the room toward the door. I'm not sure if he acknowledged me as he passed by me on the couch, but I believe he was smiling. He walked out of the room and to the front door and then out of the house. That's it.

I woke up (though in my sleepiness it didn't feel like my conscious state really changed like it usually feels when I awaken from a dream) and slowly came to the realization that what had just happened didn't actually happen (because it couldn't have). I'm just assigning my own personal meaning to this dream and don't claim to be a qualified dream interpreter in any way, but it just seemed like it was my Dad's way of saying that it was time to go. It was very simple, and no words were used, but it just seemed to make perfect sense. With all my heart I hope that this is what the meaning was. Maybe, just maybe it will make things just a little bit easier when the time does come that I have to face the reality that my Dad has really "walked out of the house" for the last time. I hope so...

I Love You Dad!

Rest In Peace