What was your first mature thought?

Mine happened when I was about six or seven. We'd moved to the suburbs a few years earlier, and my parents were entertaining some friends. At one point the men were talking among themselves, while the women did the same.

I wandered over to where the men were, and I heard my father saying, almost boastfully, "Well, I let my wife think I never wanted to move here, but I really do like it." When he saw me eavesdropping, he shooed me away.

My thought was, so, he lies sometimes. Why would he do that? While I didn't figure it all out just yet, I did realize that there was more to adult behavior than what appears on the surface.

I'll have to bookmark this and come back to it, Letty, whilst I consider what my very first mature thought was.

'so THIS is what it's like fresh outta the womb, eh?"

I'll let you know when I have one!
(bookmarking)

Hey, d'art, onyx, drom.

d'art, I can identify with that. Not a pleasant realization to discover that one's parents actually do "wrong" things.

Hey, drom. Crank up your sax and meditate whilst playing. That's what Holmes did.

Oops, onyx. Fresh out of the womb? Believe me that my thoughts don't go back that far...lol.

I've decided to get out some of my diaries in the middle of cranking up my sax, Letty! I can't get them all though: some are up in the attic, and I'm not going up there when it's this dark. I've found this at eleven:

'It seems as if people are either moral or rich'

and this at twelve:

'To some people people must be like knots, an (sic) whether you suceed (s) in life or not depends on how well you pull them. Wish it wasn't so.'

But, tomorrow, I'll try to decipher the handwriting on the other diaries..

i was a gifted fetus ;-)

What the hell are you doing holding me upside down? Heads are going to roll if you slap my ass again!

My first 'mature' thought came to me in a dream, and when I awoke, my pyjamas were all wet.

I know that you posted in jest, onyx, but there is a study that shows babies in utero learn from their singing mothers as well as those mothers who read to their full tummies.

Drom, your lovable and creative diary entries. Take someone in the garret with you, and let them shine the light.

And there's William of Orange waving wildly and protesting, regardless of the whacks on his backside. My, my. To think they called his a bloodless revolution.

There was also a family on my street who was black with a kid called Baby Doll. That little gal could play the PIANO...and all on the black keys, too. I can hear that child singing and grooving away right to this day:

We are our heavenly father's children.
And we know that he loves us one and all.
Tho there are times that we don't get answers
To our prayers and ca-ah--ah--all.
He gives to us a new creation,
(can't remember the rest)

The point that I was making before truth broke in as Frost observes,
is when I went to her house to play, I always thought that her father was talkin' to me when he called his wife sugar. It was at that point, that I realized that men had those epithets for others besides children.

I remember going home and asking my dad why he didn't call Mama sugar, and being a little put out when he laughed.

Cav, I swear, will you get your mind off your libido and concentrate on your liver? lol. As one Brit said, That ain't nocturnal--that's spontaneous combustion, and doesn't require thought

Letty, I know. When I was pregnant w/ my oldest (now 5) I would read to her constantly. I was 1/2 way though a WTP (winnie the pooh) anthology and I realized everyone in the stories was lying about stuff (telling little 'tales' about what they'd done). I stopped reading that book to my belly. I did not want her to learn to lie...lol

Ah, onyx. and I'm certain that sweet dumpling has NEVER told a lie to this day.

Incidentally, I left out the fact that I thought Baby Doll was that child's real name. duh. Now I have no idea what her name really was..sheeeeeze. I wasn't thinking in a sophisticated way.

at 5 1/2 I claimed that "nobody was going to beat me up"

In other words is was survival of the fittest (don't get in my way, don't look at me crossed eyed, don't cross me, don't call me names) and I fought for the following about 11 years. Hell had no fury like that of a young soon to find football husker.

husker, Might makes right if you're trying to get a football scholarship.

I was a little skinny thing when I was young, so I learned to run. Later, I found out that talking your way out of stuff, was easier than trying to pound it into another's head. By this time, I was using my noggin' like a real ambassador of good will.

A friend of my sisters was always getting beat up when he was a kid. His mother sat him down and told him to run like hell when he saw the bullies approaching. He did, and got so good at it, that he began to pick fights, cause he knew that he could cause trouble, then let his legs get him out of harm's way and back to home base. This happened one to many times, so the next time he created chaos and ran for it, his mother slammed the door and locked it. That was his dark journey into maturity.

I just want to know why Letty was up in that tree in the first place. Picking apples? Retrieving a kite? Ahhhhhh, a thought has just crossed my mind.

Letty was window peeping! But who was she attempting to see? I'm going to wager that it was that fat little kid with the baseball cap. The guy with all the freckles and the ever-present slingshot hanging out of his pocket.

But what would Letty see in that guy. Why would she be so intent at catching a brief glimpse of his flabby white flesh as he headed for the shower?

I'm telling you, there's high intrigue on this thread.

I'm gonna hang around and see how this whole thing plays out.

Wished I could say I was living in a place and under circumstances were it was different - it was more sheer will and being tenacious on the Might side until I got to the 2nd school, close to home people wanted to bully me so, so I became the bully out of survival and lack of guidance. Sounds bad to tell about it now, but I can look back and remember like it was yesterday. About the only thing I'm proud about now is I'm a hell of a nice guy now and work hard in the community to not let others get into those kind of trappings.

oh and one more thing - Please don't push the wrong buttons, or light the short fuse, make sure the warning lite battery does not go out

Ah, husker, the gentle giant. Not to worry, my friend. The only buttons that I push are those on this pc, and I don't think that you'll find them too feral.

Gus, That tree was just a climbing tree, and I had apples of my own. Lemme think. Was there a red headed kid with freckles in that once beautiful Victorian house? If there were, he would have been dressed in little Lord Fauntleroy attire, and I liked kids in men's clothes.

Today, though, I might like ogling a farmer at the farmer's market. Watcha offering? Beef stake tomatoes? Does go good with them brown beans and cornbread, don't it?