Monday, March 17, 2014

The beginning

You dogs what to know why I'm so screwed up?

My first memory of life I was 5 years old, my mom took me to a convent for day care, I was kicking and screaming, "I don't want to go."  10 minutes ago I was racing hot wheel cars down an orange track making car sounds, now I'm being taken by the hand through a small hallway of horror.

I hear a kid screaming in terror, as we turn the corner a tiny black girl,  no older then me was on the lap of a num, her skirt was pulled down and was being spanked, spanked hard by a gigantic fat nun, she was enjoying it, a demented grin, biting her toung saliva driping. 

I have never seen a black person up that point in my life and thought what the hell did they do to that poor kid. Shes been tard and they're going to feather her just like in the bugs bunny cartoon. Fear and terror griped me to the point were I stopped breathing for who knows how long. The nun holding my hand was just smiling oblivous to the horror I was witnessing of this poor kid, right there and then I knew I was going to make a run for it first chance I had.

I'm lead into a room with about 20 other kids, all of them stone faced scared. I check my pocket for my Batman Hot Wheel Car, Nothing bad can happen to me so long as it's with me. For the next 1/2 hour I studied the room and didn’t see any doors other than the door we came in.

Between freedom and here, a mamouth monster. The door opens and the monster comes into the room, no little girl with her, they've killed her and put her in the garbage I concluded, I got to get out of here.

The killer starts talking to the other kids, pointing and shaking her finger as to warn the other little people, no way I'm making eye contact. It's a question and answer session, I'm not paying attention, only thing I'm thinking about is my escape.

"Smokey, what do you like to do" she said. I just stared at my brand new running shoes, PF Flyers, the commercials on TV showed that you can fly with them,  making sure my laces were tight cause me and the batman car are about to hit the runway. "Smokey are you ok, what do you like to do, tell the class, your mommy says you play guitar," the monster said. I said nothing, I can feel tears start to run down my face.

 "Smokey can you play a guitar" the evil bitch put me on the spot. "Yesth I can" I confidently said in a whisper. "What song do you like play Smokey" she said. I said "Michael wode the boat ashore." "Speak up Smokey the class can't hear you" said spankzilla starting to squize my soulder hard.

I felt the world closing in on me, terrified I stand up and shout as I make a run for it. "Michael wode the boat asshole" I'm past the door, bolting down the hall I feel my PF Flyers start to gain altitude, at about one mile per hour I hit V1, my little legs pumping at full steam, only way you could see them is if someone was filming in slow motion. I'm out side heading for the four fence. I leap up but my right toe gets stuck in the fence with my hand on the top bar, I wriggle it free. One more leg up and I'm out of this nightmare.

Damn it, there is giant hand wrapped around my entire waist. I turn my head...It's the monster. She has a Jack Nicholson crazy face grin. She gripped the back of my shirt and carried me back into the class, I was suspend horizontal, for a moment I thought I was superman flying, all I needed was a cape and this nun would be history. I'm by the chair where she beat and murdered that girl, I'm next, I mentally prepare for death but she keeps walking.

I'm placed back in my chair. She makes an announcement to the class that I went out to find my guitar but my mother already left, so we will give Smokey a guitar and he will play for us. The class starts cheering......

I had one god damn lesson my entire life, oh no everyone will laugh at me. They hand me a guitar. At this point I'm thinking I have a wepon and I was going to use it if any of the phycos came near me. I start to play and scream out the song. "Micheal wode the boat ashore hallelujah" Random notes on the guitar but crowd goes wild, clapping, dancing and singing along. The nuns screwing up there faces at awful sounds coming from the old guitar which was missing a few strings.

Right there and then I knew being good at something didn't matter much, looking like you are good is all that mattered.

The journey begins.....


  1. Powerful post Smoke, I too have awful memories of sunday school.

  2. Did your dad pass? Garthos blog, you mentioned an inheritance, other posts talked about your father in a home. Just wondering. Sounds like you had a messed up childhood.

    1. Nope he's still alive and kicking, brain is gone.. He smiles a lot.

      I sold his place in 2009 put it in play in the markets. Cha Ching.

      Had great child hood.

      Booze and random drug extermination is taking its toll in midlife...


  3. From reading your posts on garth's blog for the past several month to finally here. The writing is geneous save for some spelling mistakes but who cares. Youre like the wise old man who i get life advice from.



  6. Well done piece! I really enjoyed that.
    thanks, Bill


  8. Nice one mr Smoke, seems like there is only learning when there is pain. I guess we can be grateful for those who hurt us. ?.