Alcoholism remains a horrible disease that causes broken families and broken lives in every culture. Secrets are kept by every family, but alcohol is the worst drug because it is the most socially acceptable drug.

The house was filled with the debris of life, smelling of cigarettes and whisky and a dog. I played violin in an orchestra and played baseball every chance I got. Reading was the escape that kept my life important. Drunken nights of mother were the norm and I knew to keep my head down even in daylight.

Mom would drag me out of bed by my hair and proceed to slap me around and beat me to a pulp while telling me I was worthless and why I would never amount to anything. A 1/5 of Whiskey per night was the norm.

One night, the rage finally tipped my hand and I knocked my mother out cold and went to bed. Fear of consequences was the last thing on his mind.

The next morning, I got up and went out to see if my mother was still out cold in the living room, or if she was dead. Damn! She was not there and must have got up and gone to bed. She got up later that morning, didn’t say anything all day, and never hit me again. If I had known it was going to work I would have hit her when I was much younger. I would become somebody no matter what!

My last classes start next week and I will soon see what I want to do now or next or…whatever. I have been told I am a talented writer by several people so far. I used to be a gifted violinist when young and gave it all up for stupid, youthful ideas. The first time I thought I would like to be a writer was upon reading A Movable Feast by Ernest Hemingway at age 24. Ernie wrote a memoir about his days in Paris after the Great War aka World War I. I have read and re-read this book several times and I am just starting it again. I just read the memoir Glass Castles and I would like to write more than memoir allows. It seems that only a memoir is coming out of me at this time, but after the harangue of classes I will then take a good look at writing as a profession.

No one seems to think my ability to do family trees/genealogy should be rewarded so I will no longer expect that someday I will be paid for this kind of work. I was once a gifted musician and now I’m better than that at research and research jobs.

I am kind of scared at the idea of being a pro writer, but that is all I have left after all of my I wants and I needs are exhausted. I am looking forward to having my Certificate in Writing in my hot little hand.

I am now into my second writing class, Fiction Writing: Craft, and I have a few problems. I really like the teacher, Scott Driscoll, he is one of the best teachers I have ever had, but I don’t really want to take this class because it doesn’t seem very important to me. At least, that is what I am thinking today. I am going to finish my courses and get that Certificate in Writing, but I am in an active search for a Masters program to do next. Medieval History or Counseling seem to be both important enough to me. I really love Medieval history and could read about it every day. Counseling seem important for several reasons quality of life for all being the most important.

My wife and I are now both retired and I don’t seem to have anything important to do: keep the fire going, let the dogs out, let the dogs in, read my assigned texts, try and write some although it does not seem to be required in this course.

So I will write on my blog and seek salvation through activity or busy work. I think it is next to impossible to write without the muse handy so that’s enough for today.