March 29, 2007
There was a time when I thought I knew everything, or at least as much as my dad, heck, maybe more. But in all fairness, I am talking everyday things, gosh he was an engineer, and a really good one at that. Way out of my league!
Think about it, at age 18 we know everything, nothing our parents tell us means diddly. At age 25 we think we're light years ahead of them, out of college, smarter than a whip, we can take on any task. By the time we're 35 something is happening, because our parenting skills are telling us that maybe our mother's were right after all, heck, look how good we all turned out. Now we're 45 and things are looking bleak in the smart race, guess who is catching up. By 50 it's all over, all sorts of things start happening most of which we don't need to go into here, but as difficult it may be to admit, our parents are smarter than we are. There is hope, soon our children will start to realize just how smart we are. And that brings me to the purpose of this post.
You can say a lot about my father but lets not forget how smart he was. He knew a bargain when he saw one. When he bought us kids that mail truck at a post office auction, he knew what he was doing. He even made it a family affair and had all us out in the drive way taping and painting that thing to look like an American flag. Red/White/Blue with stars. Again, he had a purpose.
We were just happy to have our own transportation, plus it was way cooler to drive that mail truck than our mothers station wagon. We were able to put our artistic talent to work on the inside with the best posters we could find, a record player, and a wicker couch. Cruising through McDonald's was an experience and we had a blast. As obvious as this mail truck was we were able to get away with some shenanigans. Except that night when a concerned citizen reported a suspicious looking mail truck to the township police, who knew right away who it belonged to. Soon enough there was dad knocking on the side window asking in all too familiar voice, "what the hell are you doing in there?" Those teenage years were great weren't they?
The longer I reminisced over this photo, the clearer it became, remember I said Dad was smart, there was a method to his madness, and he found a great way to achieve it. That old jeep provided Dad with a level of security he envisioned for us, yet it allowed us the freedom of expression. Just one of the great lessons he taught us.
I made a reference to dad in the previous post, his guidance and his wisdom is always present and he is an inspiration to us all. There isn't a day that I don't ask myself what would dad do.
This struggle of good against evil is an example of where his presence is felt and needed, he is always near by yet I miss him a lot.
Keep looking out for us, lord knows we need it!
March 26, 2007
This whole ordeal has been strange from the begining and now has gotten stranger. Back in January the facilitator's meeting was cut short because someone had other plans. While the rest of us were prepared to spend what ever amount of time necessary to insure that if the cottage was going to be sold, it would be sold for a fair value and not stolen, someone had other plans. Then when we decided that the time line was vague and needed to be firmed up he had a hissy fit and forced us back into court. Of course the judge took three weeks to do what should have been done in a few minutes, not that we're complaining, and said back to the facilatator.
A second go around and we were prepared to bargin hard. If the cottage is to be sold, it will be on our schedule and not his. But wait, where was he, his attorney Saul was there, his attorney son was there, but not him. I had a feeling he would be a no show, he pulled the same stunt the month before in court. I knew that spineless piece of crap wouldn't show up. He was pissed that I was there for the first facilatator's meeting, I mean he was not a happy camper. He never looked at me, never looked at mother, nor did is attorney Saul. If I didnt know any better I would say he was intimidated. And that's a good thing because it means we are doing it the right way. And a little help from above can't hurt, thanks dad!
For four hours we went back and forth finally we had an agreement. During the proof reading of the draft we find out that those two ambulance chasers had to call their client who it seems was lounging in Florida, and sell him on what they had just agreed to. In the words of a frustrated facilatator, "he didnt like the time line" I think my first words were fuck him, and with that we walked out. Now here is the strange part, he wants this whole mess to be done and sold by June 1, 2007. The agreement we reached was for the appraisals to be done and a minumum bid price determined by June 1. The month of July would be for anyone from Lakeside or friends of Lakeside to look it over. If by the end of July there were no bidders then it would be listed by a realestate agent.
Now lets see why he wants this whole mess tied up and and gone by June 1, shall we. Could it be that his sister has the first session this summer, mid June to mid July? Oh come on, that was too easy. Could he be thinking that in the court of public opinion he is afraid that everyone will hate him? Pssst, hot off the press, most alread do! It's looking like it should be a great summer! I smell a big party with lots of out of state former Lakesiders there. Stay tuned.......
March 4, 2007
Who would have guessed that a painted red door surrounded by a gracefully old dark green cottage might have been the cause of this mess. What started as an artistic endeavour, to be viewed and enjoyed by many, was interpreted by another as an assault. An assault on his perceived position of superiority. Unwilling to share any longer what was once given to 3, he now wants for himself.
This journal is my way of dealing with the anger, the frustration and yes, the realization that though this fine old cottage might never change, the people who make this a great place to come and relax will be changed. Changed forever, and that's not what grandma and grandpa had in mind.
Your reading this because I have had a change of heart, it was never intended to be viewed by anyone, this was to be my therapy, my way of dealing with what one brother is doing to his sister. It's not fair and it's not right.
What ever happened to talking face to face anymore? Has the Internet and e mails taken away the need for that? Wouldn't you think that something as important as dissolving a joint partnership be discussed face to face? It makes sense I guess if your a decent compassionate person, and if your not, then I guess sending an e mail is the chicken shit way to go. Nice job asshole, show everyone just how compassionate you are towards your sister and your late sisters children. I bet your kids are proud of you, and your friends are impressed with your savoy way of dealing with this. And while your at it pat yourself on the back for a job well done. What you don't see is how despicable you are viewed as, how people are laughing behind your back, and you'll see soon enough.
Let the journey begin!