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Monday, November 29, 2010

What an asshole!

announced on April 8, 2010

Take this however you want...

After I was unceremoniously thrown out of Marina Harbor, for doing my part and no one else doing their part, my cruel and unusual Dad was really gloating over my pain and suffering.   I could tell no one else really gave a shit.  Los Angeles is really filled with scumbags.

On a regular basis, while I was in Mesa, AZ I would tell people what was going on.   They wondered why my Dad didn't want to help me very much.   It was obviously difficult to explain why he was doing or not doing what he did.  The best way I could explain it was "God has hardened my Dad's heart again."  That was how I tried to wrap it up in one line.

Fast forward about a year and a half.  While I was in some serious trouble and my Dad was close to dying I returned to Southern California against my better judgment.   He was still my Dad and even though we would never reconcile all that went wrong it seemed we had to make some peace of some kind.   His way of approaching my predicament was all wrong but no one else was even close to helping.

I came to visit him after I was on the mend from MRSA and he was unable to continue chemotherapy.  We spoke briefly.  I asked him if we could switch cars.   I would park my Thunderbird in his space because it was drawing too much attention but not any help.  He was unable, obviously, to drive his car and since his registration was current I could do a better job of avoiding the cops.  He refused me.  Even on his deathbed, he refused to let me do something that might make it a bit easier for me.   It would have taken no effort on his part.   A simple gesture that would have gone a long way to making his transition into the afterworld better.  He chose incorrectly.

That is where he stood when he died.  Why did people think he was so great?  Try analyzing his behavior and you might come to this conclusion.   None of this was okay.  I got screwed, punished, for doing more than any of you deserved.

It's too late to apologize.

I am not inclined to lift my finger for any of you.

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