I, Artist
Hello Dear reader,
I feel it might be time to let you see behind the curtain. I set myself up as some sorta expert demi-god of culture, the hapless victim of the cruelty of the world, the martyr of Art, the brutalized soul of a poet. You find humor in my adventures, or so I've been told. Now its time for a bit of background. I was born in the Magic City in the Spring of the year that Ozzie and Harriet's son Ricky actually sang a Fats Domino song on nationwide TV- which was in the next day's paper. We were just getting into outer space, and it was just after Sputnik. All this is true, The "Magic City" is Barberton Ohio, which is still known as the "Magic City" because it seemed to spring up as if by Magic. It was founded by O.C. Barber as a town for his employees to live and a place for him to place is factory {OC Barber was the "Match King" and if you ever used a Diamond strike anywhere match, you can thank Mr. Barber for the Privilege.} When I was there, Barberton was booming but beaten. The town was the eternal brown grey that is associated with small towns in the rust belt. The sidewalks were broken, the buildings were worn, but it was still small town America, where kids played in the streets, Men went to work, and women had kids and kept the house going. Our neighbors were 1st and 2nd generation Polish people and people that had been born and raised there or had come there for the work in the variety of industrial jobs that were available. Some from Pennsylvania, Some West Virginia, Some from further away. We lived on the West Side, sorta the Blue collar side of Barberton. It was where the Factories were and from my window I could see PPG's smokestack spewing out the remainders of its Soda Ash endeavors. The trains used to move this product to its various locals were constant and would lull me to sleep at night. The Winters were brutal, the summers were wonderful, School was stupid and there were hundreds of distractions for a boy my age. I was born in the Magic City. My parents raised me to be God fearing, honest, hardworking and taught me the difference between "want" and "need".
My Father who is still alive, was from Barberton. He was and is still is the smartest man I know. I take shots at my father because he is so set in his ways, however since my mom died he's loosened up a bit and His eyes light right up when discussing fishing, tools, politics's, or the history of the internal combustion engine and the vehicles that it propels. My father is very technically minded, he is also devout, honest to a fault and the man who taught me to be myself and to trained my mind to think in logic and absolutes, he taught me that one measures a man not by his color, his religion, his station in life, but by how he conducts himself and what he accomplishes. He's still stubborn, but I think I understand him. I can still recall how one makes electricity-you pass a conductor through a magnetic field...which is one of the first things my dad taught me.
My Mom was from Boston, 1st generation Italian born in this country. My Ma was a Taurus, and stubborn to a fault. My Mother was a force to be reckoned with, she was 4' 10 1/2" tall and often got teased about being short-but one quickly learned that Hand grenades aren't very big either. My mother could give you a look that spelled disaster for you, It warned that if you pushed her a bit harder you would regret it. and this was not an idle threat. My mother is another one I take shots at. While at Art school If I made anything for anybody and she saw it she'd admire it and look at me and say "OK, where's mine?" and she wasn't kidding. My Mom was one of those people who believed in communication. She could talk to anybody. And usually did. My Mom had a laugh that was contagious and she could polka on roller skates. She wasn't really creative but enjoyed the attempt. My mother made spaghetti sauce that I try to reproduce but could burn water if you let her...but always ready to try a new recipe-sometimes with disastrous results....There' the chicken and dumplings incident. My Mom had taken her mother-in-law's advice and attempted to make chicken and dumplings. It was fast, easy, and nutritious. Not to mention cheap to make. My mother ended up with chicken and dumpling. Singular. It was the size of a human brain and looked like it swimming in the creamed chicken goo. But we ate it.
Sunday's in my house was the kids up watching cartoons, at 9 my father would come down and turn the TV off, meaning it was time for him to read the paper and us to get ready for church. We went to 12:00 mass at the catholic church across the street from us. We we went every Sunday. At 10 years old I became an alter boy...it was one way of getting out of the house. We would eat dinner when we got home and listened to a show called "Polka Varieties." My folks just loved to polka.
I was sent to parochial school for the first 5 years of my schooling...that was a complete disaster. My little sister also went and thrived there. My sister is 2 years younger then myself, excelled in school and eventually went on to an Ivy League College where she also excelled. My sister is a bit shy when around strangers but firms up and is soon running the conversation. She's married and living in London with her husband and two boys. These two are my father's pride and joy...He loves those boys more then Life itself. Since my mom died he has remarried to a lovely woman that I don't know too well but She takes good care of my father and really that's all I could ever ask from her. They live half the year at her house in Barberton, and the other half in Arizona at his house.
I was born in the Magic City. My schooling was all up hill. I learned early what religious intolerance is from the Nuns who taught me. I learned that the Church doesn't deal with Chaos real well, and it doesn't like questions that it can't answer. Which I had many of. I learned that society despises the different, the noticeable and meek. I was all of these. I learned that the world was cruel. I learned that people were slightly evolved monkey's with car keys and also that God created Adam from dust and eve from one of his ribs. I learned that whenever you are in a group the lowest common denominator always rules. There was nothing wrong with my brain. In fact I probably understood what was being taught to me better then most. I just refused to do the work. I felt that until somebody started answering my questions about things that had nothing to do with grammar, addition and subtraction, or what the difference between latitude and longitude was, I wasn't going to do anything they wanted me to do. Most of my questions pertained to those mysteries of Catholicism that you are just supposed to accept. If Noah was supposed to take every animal of the world one of male and female, then why didn't we have any dinosaurs around? IF God always was, always will be and is perfect in every way, why did he choose that time to create the universe? and why us? was he lonely? that might suggest an imperfection. And if God created Eve From one of Adam's ribs shouldn't there be one more on one side of his body and if this is true why do men and women have the same amount of ribs? And sometimes it was just about stuff-Why does South America jut out and in in the exact opposite fashion as Africa? It looks like they broke apart. Why do all the black people live in one part of Town? Why if all men are created equal did we have slaves?
I soon got the reputation of being a troublemaker.
I was born in the Magic City. We moved from Barberton when I was 13. I go back now and again. I notice that the biggest hill in the world that was just outside my front door, wasn't that big, I notice that the streets are still broken, that the houses still look old and worn and that the only thing that's different are the lack of trees, and the small stores and business that were in every neighbor hood have been converted to cheap apartments or are boarded up.
I'll tell you more some other time. Right now I'm thinking about some supper and a nice hot shower....Good luck and farewell.
I feel it might be time to let you see behind the curtain. I set myself up as some sorta expert demi-god of culture, the hapless victim of the cruelty of the world, the martyr of Art, the brutalized soul of a poet. You find humor in my adventures, or so I've been told. Now its time for a bit of background. I was born in the Magic City in the Spring of the year that Ozzie and Harriet's son Ricky actually sang a Fats Domino song on nationwide TV- which was in the next day's paper. We were just getting into outer space, and it was just after Sputnik. All this is true, The "Magic City" is Barberton Ohio, which is still known as the "Magic City" because it seemed to spring up as if by Magic. It was founded by O.C. Barber as a town for his employees to live and a place for him to place is factory {OC Barber was the "Match King" and if you ever used a Diamond strike anywhere match, you can thank Mr. Barber for the Privilege.} When I was there, Barberton was booming but beaten. The town was the eternal brown grey that is associated with small towns in the rust belt. The sidewalks were broken, the buildings were worn, but it was still small town America, where kids played in the streets, Men went to work, and women had kids and kept the house going. Our neighbors were 1st and 2nd generation Polish people and people that had been born and raised there or had come there for the work in the variety of industrial jobs that were available. Some from Pennsylvania, Some West Virginia, Some from further away. We lived on the West Side, sorta the Blue collar side of Barberton. It was where the Factories were and from my window I could see PPG's smokestack spewing out the remainders of its Soda Ash endeavors. The trains used to move this product to its various locals were constant and would lull me to sleep at night. The Winters were brutal, the summers were wonderful, School was stupid and there were hundreds of distractions for a boy my age. I was born in the Magic City. My parents raised me to be God fearing, honest, hardworking and taught me the difference between "want" and "need".
My Father who is still alive, was from Barberton. He was and is still is the smartest man I know. I take shots at my father because he is so set in his ways, however since my mom died he's loosened up a bit and His eyes light right up when discussing fishing, tools, politics's, or the history of the internal combustion engine and the vehicles that it propels. My father is very technically minded, he is also devout, honest to a fault and the man who taught me to be myself and to trained my mind to think in logic and absolutes, he taught me that one measures a man not by his color, his religion, his station in life, but by how he conducts himself and what he accomplishes. He's still stubborn, but I think I understand him. I can still recall how one makes electricity-you pass a conductor through a magnetic field...which is one of the first things my dad taught me.
My Mom was from Boston, 1st generation Italian born in this country. My Ma was a Taurus, and stubborn to a fault. My Mother was a force to be reckoned with, she was 4' 10 1/2" tall and often got teased about being short-but one quickly learned that Hand grenades aren't very big either. My mother could give you a look that spelled disaster for you, It warned that if you pushed her a bit harder you would regret it. and this was not an idle threat. My mother is another one I take shots at. While at Art school If I made anything for anybody and she saw it she'd admire it and look at me and say "OK, where's mine?" and she wasn't kidding. My Mom was one of those people who believed in communication. She could talk to anybody. And usually did. My Mom had a laugh that was contagious and she could polka on roller skates. She wasn't really creative but enjoyed the attempt. My mother made spaghetti sauce that I try to reproduce but could burn water if you let her...but always ready to try a new recipe-sometimes with disastrous results....There' the chicken and dumplings incident. My Mom had taken her mother-in-law's advice and attempted to make chicken and dumplings. It was fast, easy, and nutritious. Not to mention cheap to make. My mother ended up with chicken and dumpling. Singular. It was the size of a human brain and looked like it swimming in the creamed chicken goo. But we ate it.
Sunday's in my house was the kids up watching cartoons, at 9 my father would come down and turn the TV off, meaning it was time for him to read the paper and us to get ready for church. We went to 12:00 mass at the catholic church across the street from us. We we went every Sunday. At 10 years old I became an alter boy...it was one way of getting out of the house. We would eat dinner when we got home and listened to a show called "Polka Varieties." My folks just loved to polka.
I was sent to parochial school for the first 5 years of my schooling...that was a complete disaster. My little sister also went and thrived there. My sister is 2 years younger then myself, excelled in school and eventually went on to an Ivy League College where she also excelled. My sister is a bit shy when around strangers but firms up and is soon running the conversation. She's married and living in London with her husband and two boys. These two are my father's pride and joy...He loves those boys more then Life itself. Since my mom died he has remarried to a lovely woman that I don't know too well but She takes good care of my father and really that's all I could ever ask from her. They live half the year at her house in Barberton, and the other half in Arizona at his house.
I was born in the Magic City. My schooling was all up hill. I learned early what religious intolerance is from the Nuns who taught me. I learned that the Church doesn't deal with Chaos real well, and it doesn't like questions that it can't answer. Which I had many of. I learned that society despises the different, the noticeable and meek. I was all of these. I learned that the world was cruel. I learned that people were slightly evolved monkey's with car keys and also that God created Adam from dust and eve from one of his ribs. I learned that whenever you are in a group the lowest common denominator always rules. There was nothing wrong with my brain. In fact I probably understood what was being taught to me better then most. I just refused to do the work. I felt that until somebody started answering my questions about things that had nothing to do with grammar, addition and subtraction, or what the difference between latitude and longitude was, I wasn't going to do anything they wanted me to do. Most of my questions pertained to those mysteries of Catholicism that you are just supposed to accept. If Noah was supposed to take every animal of the world one of male and female, then why didn't we have any dinosaurs around? IF God always was, always will be and is perfect in every way, why did he choose that time to create the universe? and why us? was he lonely? that might suggest an imperfection. And if God created Eve From one of Adam's ribs shouldn't there be one more on one side of his body and if this is true why do men and women have the same amount of ribs? And sometimes it was just about stuff-Why does South America jut out and in in the exact opposite fashion as Africa? It looks like they broke apart. Why do all the black people live in one part of Town? Why if all men are created equal did we have slaves?
I soon got the reputation of being a troublemaker.
I was born in the Magic City. We moved from Barberton when I was 13. I go back now and again. I notice that the biggest hill in the world that was just outside my front door, wasn't that big, I notice that the streets are still broken, that the houses still look old and worn and that the only thing that's different are the lack of trees, and the small stores and business that were in every neighbor hood have been converted to cheap apartments or are boarded up.
I'll tell you more some other time. Right now I'm thinking about some supper and a nice hot shower....Good luck and farewell.
posted by ak at 3:20 PM
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