Sunday, January 19, 2014

Bridging the gap of years to the endoplebe...

I just saw a film.  I watched a movie.  It was a sad movie about little kids called Bridge To Terebithia.
I had heard of it, I even remember seeing the trailers for it seven years ago, sort of. 2007, I was living with a crazy junkie girlfriend at the time, she used to throw dishes at me, and lock herself in the bathroom.  I was driving tow trucks for a living.  I remember the trailers, but I never saw the movie until tonight.  It dredges up some unpleasant memories from childhood.  I want to figure out why.  I don't remember how old I was at the time, just that I was a little kid.  I got invited to someone's birthday party.  We were all eating cake and ice cream, and a whiffle ball landed in my plate of cake.  I looked up and there was a kid laughing at me, so I got up and went after him.  I smashed his face into a stone wall, hard enough that it made a kind of "Pock!" sound, and his nose and mouth were all bloody.  I figured that he threw the ball into my food on purpose, because he laughed at me.  I got in trouble.  I had to leave the party, and I wasn't allowed to go back to those people's house anymore.  I got my ass beat.  I don't know how bad I hurt him.  I don't even remember his name, who he was, if he was the birthday kid's family or just some kid from school, or what.  I don't even know if he threw the ball, or if he even had anything to do with it, or if it was an accident, what direction it came from, nothing.  He might have been just having fun, and all of a sudden some kid got up and smashed his face into a wall.  Pow!  Probably fucked up his whole day.  Shocked the shit out of the birthday kid's mother, I remember that much.  But he laughed at me!  How dare he laugh at me?  They all laughed at me in school and called me names, so I showed them.  I took toilet paper rolls and stuffed them into all the toilets and flushed them until they overflowed, then I flushed them some more, just to make sure the bathroom was good and flooded.  Then I pulled the fire alarm.  I also went thru parked cars, whatever ones had a door unlocked, and I pulled knobs off, stole change, pulled emergency brakes and watched them drift into other cars...  I guess maybe I was a bad kid.  Once there was a milk truck parked on a hill, they still had milk delivery to your house in the early 70s, and I guess the milkman was up at someone's house, but his truck was running in the street.  There was a whole string of little kids, and we all walked thru the milk truck, in the passenger door, and out the driver door.  I was the last kid in line, and I released the brake, and the truck started rolling backwards, as I jumped out the door.  It rolled all the way down the hill and into a tree, with the milkman chasing after it yelling.  We all ran away.  I never got in trouble for that one.  I must've been in second grade.  How old is that?  Seven?  Yeah.  Rumor had it that the milkman broke his leg, but I don't know.  I was a bad kid.  I can see it now.

So why did that movie make me remember that stuff?  I guess it was the two bully kids, and he finally turned around and hit one of them after the girl died.  I don't remember any kids that I knew dying, but I sort of remember some girl's cousin got killed by a drunk driver, run over walking home from school, I think, but I didn't know her.  I got picked on sometimes, but I found ways to get revenge.  I stole one kid's matchbox cars and crushed them with a brick.  Things of that nature.  I hit a kid in the back with an umbrella, stabbed him with it would be more accurate.  I pushed people into the barberry hedges. (that hurts, let me tell you)  I stomped thru the wet cement in front of someone's house one time, and I mean stomped and also jumped with both feet, boink-boink-boink!  I got busted for that one.  Got my ass beat.  Then I went and broke windows in that guy's garage, that'll show him for chasing me home.  Except he saw me break the windows, so I got busted for that too, and got my ass beat.  I got in my Dad's car when I was five, and put it in gear, and wrecked it into the garage wall.  He had left it running.  I got my ass beat with his belt for that one.  After awhile, anytime anything got broken, or stolen, or set on fire around the neighborhood, it got blamed on me, whether I had anything to do with it or not.  I was about 12, and I stole this little mini-torch from Radio Shack.  I guess it was for soldering or something, I don't know, but it melted aluminum pretty good.  There was an intercom box on the outside of a doctors' office building, it had buttons with each doctor's name and a doorbell button next to the name, and it had a speaker.  I used to stop and buzz all the buttons, just to piss people off.  Sometimes I would yell cuss words if they answered.  So I had this little torch, and I found out it could melt aluminum cans, so me and my buddy went to the doctors' intercom box and used the torch on it.  It caught on fire, with lots of smoke, and we ran like hell and got busted.  We also got busted for breaking windshields with a hammer, and some other vandalism.  I threw an axe-head thru the window of a city bus one time, but I didn't get caught that time. That would've been some time in juvie for sure.  I set the trash can on fire in school, I stole things out of stores, I stole things out of parked cars, and peoples garages, but I didn't get caught for any of that.  I used to light green plastic army men on fire and watch the plastic drip.  If you've ever done it, you'll remember the "vvvit-vvvit-vvvit" sound of the plastic drips.  I used to put matchbox cars on the gas stove and watch them burn, but my Mom didn't like when I did that, and I got my ass beat for it, so I had to steal road flares and do it outside.  I stole 12-guage shells and buried them in the dirt, then used road flares to fire the primers.  Not to blow stuff up, necessarily, just to make it go boom.  There was a building with a long hallway in it, I used to run thru there tossing firecrackers because they would echo.  One time I had a big capacitor from out of a stereo, and I hooked a long cord to it, and plugged it into the wall socket in that hallway.  I had a buddy with me, and we heard it make a big loud boom as we were running out the exit door.  Surprising we didn't get busted for that, it was loud as fuck, and it probably caused some damage.  I think we set a big ashtray on fire in that same hallway one time, one of those metal trashcan ashtrays, we put a strip of firecrackers in it.  I think we might've thrown them into big blue mailboxes too, and I know that's illegal, not to mention really bad, and just plain wrong, and you can get in a lot of trouble for it, but we didn't get caught.  Was I a bad kid?  I guess.  I had a lot of anger, probably because of my Dad always beating my ass, and other kids in school fucking with my peace of mind, so I lashed out at society.  When I was five, my hero was Dennis The Menace, I wanted to be just like him.  When I was in grade school, my heroes were Tom Sawyer & Huckleberry Finn.  No wonder I did shit.  Then I read a book about Crazy Horse when I was 11, and after that I wanted to fight the government.  I'm just getting in touch with my inner child here.  The endoplebe, that's the child within.  Mine is in need of some attention, he's pissed off at the world, he wants to fight everyone and everything at every turn, and I'm trying to find out why.  Why are you so pissed off, kid?  Who did this to you?  Poor kid is fucked up in the noggin, emotionally scarred from some traumatic event, but what?  I can't seem to remember...  Why?

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