Monday, July 04, 2005

I'm raising Maynard G. Crebbs......

"WORK!!!"...... Yes, you're old if you remember. "Maynard" (akska son). akska = "also kinda sorta known as" lives with me. Maynard simply lives. Turned 20 yesterday. He eats, he drinks, he watches TV, and he wakes up and does the same thing over and over. Good Lord I hope he doesn't turn into Norman.

Virtually all my lady-friend plans are on hold until Maynard's brain ripens. Maynard has anger problems (good 99% of the time, hell that 1%). For some reason, he hates doors. There's not a single one in this house that hasn't been introduced to his knuckles. I don't comprehend that. I could see hating Jim Morrison, but not doors. Perhaps it has something to do with the old saying about doors and opportunities.

Maynard lived a wonderful life from age 0 to 13. He had doting relatives, a great mother, and a father who was nutso over him - to the tune of minimumly 2-3 hours one-on-one per night doing a multitude of things. Catch, soccer (basement if soggy out), setting up and knocking down plastic army guys over and over and over. Creative obstacle courses setup at nearby parks. Batting cages, thousands of fly balls/ground balls. Hoops. 4' goals, 6' goals, 8' goals, 10' goals. You name it, we did it. Maynard's pappy (akska - me) coached each and every crummy little league team he played on.

Maynard currently lives in rap "shock" world. Dress to shock, talk to shock. Hey little buddy, you wanna shock me? Get a job!

Maynard shares his father's love of sports. akska/me never really pushed - although I reread a prior paragraph, and it would seem that. akska/me taught PE, and one very minute reason I got out of the fold was I'd play "Duck duck goose" in the morning, kickball all afternoon, coach basketball in the late afternoon/early evening - only to come home to Maynard waiting on the step with our ball gloves and a well worn hardball. I love to play as much as the next guy - but it can be overdone.

I don't know what Maynard's ultimate outcome will be. Ye of little fortitude won't kick his little butt out of the house - and he really doesn't ask for money. He's like a banana that stays green forever. One day, will I wake up and have him be 26 and fully yellow? There is a good heart under there - and each and every time I'm ready to throw my hands up in despair something happens - something like the recent Father's Day card I received: "In your quiet way, you are an example, and you have inspired me many times. You have my respect and my thanks. Thanks for putting up with me Pops, Love Maynard." Shit. He still knows how to tug.

In the back of my mind, I think Maynard wants to follow in Bob Denver's shoes and his next "role" will be living/not working on a deserted island somewhere. Ok, enough on my 'little buddy' today. Stay tuned for another exciting adventure tomorrow. Not decided yet between the roof that leaks over my bed (and over the kitchen table).. the wonderful inground pool whose $4000 liner gave out 5 years ago, of the doublewide garage door whose spring snapped months after I installed the auto-opener. Yipee. Life, akska - Check engine light.

No comments: