Blog Archives - TRUTH-LIES...with FD Thornton

Kept Their Eyes Open

12/31/2024

Looking out over the second day of sunny skies, the last of the warm temperatures will be blowing away tomorrow. With a strong wind blowing out of the southwest, I got the groceries and our medicine picked up before the New Year’s Eve celebration. I Thought I’d take a moment and sit outside while I still can over here at the old place. Hadn’t heard a word from the landlord about moving out. Still we got one more week before the “hard deadline” of January 6th comes and we’ll to be able to move.

Other than that my eyes are trying to adjust to the outside light. Being stuck in a house for ten years lite by single light bulbs hanging from the ceiling will do that to ya. Sitting here in a shirt I forgot I owned, it’s amazing what you find in a closet when you’re about to move. I mean my wife found a roasting pan we’d forgotten my late mother-in-law gave us we’d never used sitting in the box. That’s because we haven’t had a working stove for ten years. We are a pitiful bunch I suppose so close to homelessness for so long, I’d gotten kinda used to eating the scraps off children’s plates just so I’d have something to eat.

I know I often sound like that sad sack Wheeler Family from old “Night Court”. But often that’s how hard luck follows people. My Grand used to say, “You just have to laugh at the pain, just to keep from cryin’”. And she was right, I can’t tell you how many times a good belly laugh during a tragedy lifted the spirits of the whole room. Even now while I’m not feeling too sad about my situation. That’s because now I’m seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. My oldest daughter called me up earlier about a minor problem they were having at home. I simply told her to bring it over here and I’ll take care of it. You see that’s what friends and family do for each other, they take care of their own. Without trying to brag, that’s the example I tried to layout for my kids. And thankfully they kept their eyes open and learned the lesson.

Texas Flood - A Sunday Sermon

12/29/2024

KETK.com

Well that big storm from Texas all of the 24/7 news media has been trying to scare me about this past week, has came and went. Now there’s a steady light rain falling outside my window. Not to take anything away from the bad weather in Texas. But damn I wish the news would quit trying to scare me into watching, just so they can sell me a bigger tube of hemorrhoid cream. I just spoke to my father-in-law a few minutes ago, he seems to be doing well. I tried once again to send my wife back to him, but as he has told me for over 30 years, “No deposit, No return”.

Feeling a little funky in the center of my chest. I’m fairly sure it has nothing to do with my heart, but more to do with actual indigestion. I eat something greasy last night and I have been paying for it ever since. God knows why I’m telling you any of this, I’m pretty sure you’d rather hear about golden snowflakes or my latest trip to the Bahamas. But I’ve never been to the Bahamas and the closest I’ve come to a golden snowflake is peeing in some snow. As you may or may not can tell I’m bored as hell. It’s Sunday morning, it’s raining and dreary outside, and my refrigerator doesn’t work. And we still got another week to wait on the apartment to be finished.

I really hate dazzling you with my bleak rays of sunshine. But oftentimes life is just this way. Much like those people in Texas picking up their lives after a bad weather situation. I may not have feel the same way they felt about this storm, but I can empathize. Maybe if we all decided to feel that way about the children of Gaza, or the drug addicted in West Virginia, or the homeless living under the overpass. Then maybe we would shut our months about our shitty little problems that don’t really mean a damn thing. I know, you’re all getting ready to say “but”. But hey, I know my problems are just as petty. And this has been ”our” Sunday Sermon.

On the Other Side

12/28/2024

It’s another crappy December morning, the sunshine and icy cold temperatures of earlier this week, are now replaced with fog and misty rain. It’s been two days since Christmas, and it seems like the world hasn’t started back up again. But there’s no point in me waxing romantic about days gone past. When I was a kid color tv’s were a marvel of engineering along with answering machines and LED watches. Still I find myself being a little antsy waiting for the end of the year. Knowing that soon we will be moving on a new adventure in a new town.

The only sad thing about anticipating anything new is the inevitable disappointment I feel when the goal has been achieved. I remember in the early 2000’s when I finally completed my bachelor’s degree, and how I had overcome many mental health issues to achieve that goal. Still it felt as more of a letdown because I was no longer fighting. It’s a moment when I should have felt a lot of pride. But instead I felt so hollow like the whole journey just wasn’t worth the effort.

So I set for myself another goal, to work as a 10-99 contractor in the fledgling wireless industry. I also talked myself into continuing my education by pursuing an MBA. What I didn’t anticipate was having a series of nearly fatal heart issues, all for the pursuit of a dream that I was becoming more disillusioned with by the second. Still I received my MBA by the “skin of my teeth” and now I sit here with three college degrees all sitting in a box, a million miles away from everything I thought I wanted to do.

This year will be ten years since my first trip to the Pulmonary Care Unit, and the 26th anniversary since being diagnosed with a multitude of mental health issues. Not exactly crowning achievements, but achievements all the same. Today staring out into the foggy morning, I ask myself about this next move, “Is this really what I want to do?” But given this particular situation (moving) wasn’t something I choose but something that was forced upon me. I have little choice but to do it. But now I’m a little bit wiser and in a better state of mind. I’m choosing to take advantage of this opportunity and really better my situation. So remember to be grateful for dreams and the benefits they bring. Hold my head up with pride through each of your so-called disappointments. For you never know the blessing you’re going to receive. You may be able to see through the fog, but there’s always hope on the other side.

Never Bad

12/26/2024

After nearly a week of suffering from a cold I finally feel like I’m entering the final stretch of this adventure. I have a story I have been working on this whole week, but me and my favorite critic Google Gemini have been going back and to over what it is I’m trying to say. It’s funny how something can make perfect sense inside your head. But when ask a AI language program with obvious memory issues of past conversations to critique it, it sometimes turns into a total circle jerk.

I don’t mean for this to sound like a total criticism of AI programing. I mean as the AI is learning and growing from information it draws from the internet, it’s nice to know it hasn’t started sounding like your drunk uncle at Thanksgiving. Still it is helpful with dissecting what it is I’m trying to say. Often pulling out hidden meanings I didn’t know I was thinking. And while Gemini sometimes offers me suggestions and examples of what I should say. I was drilled in college so hard about avoiding plagiarism that I am very controlling about my creative process. Still a critical ear is never a bad thing… aggravating, maybe…but never bad.

I guess my point of this is programs and software are tools. And tools are meant to enhance the quality of your product. If you are totally against such progress than we might as well go back to cave painting walls and stretching words out on stone. While I sit in my solitude I am grateful to have a program that helps with my grammar and seeing things I didn’t realize I was saying. So yes, I understand there are many that abuse the process and have the program write or draw their so-called creation. The potential of these advances are limitless in allowing room for more creation and refinement.

Much Like Yesterday

12/19/2024

Much like yesterday today’s starting out a bit foggy. But since I didn’t take a nap yesterday, I woke up rested unlike my usual morning. Since we’ve been packing up stuff for our eventual move. The cats have been having a field day catching the field mice hidden in the nooks and crannies around the house. I got the car back from the shop yesterday afternoon. I was surprised by the reasonable amount my daughter was charged for the repair (might as well be honest). So now I’m waiting for the fog to clear so I can get our next few days’ supply of groceries (our fridge was damages during the hurricane).

If your looking for some great pearls of wisdom, I usually have to go outside for that, cause there’s nothing less exciting than being cramped up in a room packed full of boxes with no clear date as to when we can move. But that doesn’t mean I’m not feeling a lot more optimistic (yes, Jamm I said it). It seems that I am having to work on my patience. As I’ve said before, I’m a planner, I like things laid out in an orderly fashion. But unfortunately most of my life has been overtaken by last minute impulse, where most of my decisions turned out bad. So I’m trying to treat this whole affair as a life lesson. But as with most “life lessons” the message isn’t sitting particularly well with me. When dealing with childhood trauma the ghosts of that past are hard to shake. You have to develop a thick skin, and those calluses take decades to wear down.

So you develop resilience to roll over those pains. I suppose I should be grateful for the early medication they gave me so I could function in my early years of panic and anxiety. While it wiped away any trace of true emotion, it did give me the opportunity to function and explore other avenues of treatment and healing. It’s been about a decade since going cold turkey off that particular drug (a method I do not recommend). But since starting my current treatment and practicing mindfulness, which includes my very public confessions (which you are reading). I have been able to manage my mental illness. It seems the act of confession has given me a real opportunity to release that pain. Now I am not saying everyone go out in public and confess your “sins”. What I am saying is to find yourself a trusted friend or maybe group therapy to work out these buried emotions. Being around like-minded people can be the healing process you need to find your true self.

Real & True

12/18/2024

I got outside just in time to see the geese fly by this morning. Somewhere in the distance I smell the scent of burning pine. The skies trying to clear from this morning’s thick fog, as the mid-morning commuters move quickly by. After another rough night of tossing and turning, I couldn’t find a to put me back to sleep. But with the mornings mail came a package that me and my wife have been waiting for. It was a couple of simple little bracelets that support a sea turtle sanctuary in Northern Florida.

They are no works of art, just simple little beads with a single carved sea turtle in the center. But it seemed like a good cause besides I thought they could use my money more than McDonald’s or Burger King. The sea has always been my refuge even as a young man, in times of trouble I’d look towards the ocean and the beach. But through my vibrant years I was too wrapped up in rising a family and keeping myself functioning to get away. But now that life has slowed me down, it’s still a rarity to find my ocean for any longer a time then a few short days.

But that’s okay, the memories remain, as do the seashells my wife collects. I’m thinking about actually decorating the new place in an ocean theme. Made up of the ocean mementos we’ve picked up along the way. But for now I’m posted next to an empty clothesline with the bellowing sounds of diesel engines passing my way. Perfuming the sky with the overt smell of diesel that has overcome the burning smell of pine. This another bracelet with my children’s initials are reminders of what is real and is true.

Reciprocate

12/17/2024

Last night was a most uncomfortable night mostly because my heart has been palpitating through most of the weekend. And as usual it’s mainly because of stress and worrying about our upcoming move. Along with that the Kia has a head gasket leak that needs replacement. All of this plus the need for a U-Haul truck needs to be done with money I simply ain’t got. I know I shouldn’t let shit like this worry me, but damn it, it does. So at the moment I’m sitting outside, my heart beating like a jazz big band, while the rest of the world goes by nonchalantly about it’s business.

So in my usual way I internalize everything, then I check the oil in the car, and head into town. Before I left I texted my daughter with my death bed confessional. Meaning that I have a problem that I can’t solve, and I need some help. I mean isn’t it the parents that are supposed to be the strong ones helping their poor helpless children? But in my case the roles are reversed and it’s my children doing the rescuing. To be honest, I feels quite humiliating. I mean for nearly 40 years I was the problem solver, the go to guy. Now I find myself the one that is helpless, way before I’m supposed to be.

It reminds me of a horse a friend of mine had. Who for years he rode that horse in rodeos till the horse got too old ride. But instead of selling her off, he kept her comfortable in her final years out in a pasture next my home. Where he fed, brushed, and love her till he finally had to put her down. I don’t want to be that horse. But my daughter reminded me to stop worrying about everything and let the family take care of it. So now with the Kia in the shop and the U-Haul taken care of, I’m just sitting here in the yard watching the last load of clothes dry. Despite my best efforts to the contrary, I’m learning appreciate the love and respect of my adult children. Like many they could completely ignore me and their mother. But instead they reciprocate the values I tried to teach them.

Biting Through Your Bones

12/16/2024

I dressed for a little warmer weather this morning but I’m beginning to regret that decision. With the overcast skies and the wind, it’s a bit more nippy than I had anticipated. So I sent my son in to fetch my windbreaker after last night’s sports report. The Baptist are gathering for an early roll at Sunday school. What I remember of Sunday school cramp little rooms with an instructor half reading from a little book of indoctrinating material.

But I do remember one Sunday school teacher I want to say her name was Mrs. Collins. She always had little craft projects for us to do while she read the lesson. She had a son who I want to say was in his 20’s. He always kept to himself and the men of the church, he was the kinda guy you heard rumors about, but now I can see the poor guy was a closeted gay man. Never knew what happened to that family after my family's “enlightenment” to the “Pentecostal” pre-Evangelical movement.

Still I sit here and think of all those tortured souls and how they felt teetering between a belief in the Almighty and the guilt placed on them. It reminds me a little of these grey skies, where the potential of a peaceful day is overshadowed by the cold wind biting through your bones. I remember those days, days of uncertainty, days of wondering “Am I enough”?

Our two cats are gender neutral in that we had them fixed when they were kittens. They don’t follow the rules of “normal cats”. They have nothing in common with female cats since they can’t give birth. And male cats treat them aggressively since they did give off female hormones. Of course I may be wrong about all this, these are just my observations. Still to be considered different is never a good thing for our psyche. Many of us put up a brave front, but the pains are still there. Just something that comes into my mind while facing the cold.

Hanging in the Breeze

12/13/2024

Like a damn fool I’m sitting out here in the breezy 30° weather watching the sheets from my bed dry in the icy wind. My wife just got back from the Post Office asking my how I can stand it out here. So I told her I couldn’t but it’s just as cold inside, minus the wind. So I think I’m going to go back inside and climb under the covers. Under two blankets and a comforter I finish posting about my lasted story on my website.

I’m pretty proud of the work I’ve put in on my website “TRUTH-Lies…with FD Thornton” at “fdthornton.com”. I’ve been this running site going on for at least seven years now. It’s a labor of love that apparently offers very little to the general public. But to my two or three fans out there, it’s a hit. Recently Google Ads finally got me to run ads on the site. But looking at the site with them I’m reminded of why I hate sites with ads. It’s not that I’m trying to make money off the clickbait but would be nice to get the site to pay for itself.

Still I do it for the joy of telling a story. Because I figured out a long time ago that no one cares to hear or read a story anymore. They just assume scroll through social media at lighting speed. Even giving videos barely enough time to finish. So to a point, I feel like I’m keeping up a dying art, where the story doesn't have to be overly complicated. It’s just the enjoyment of a simple distraction that makes it real. It’s a reminder of days at Grandma’s kitchen table or around a campfire with friends having a beer letting the kids roast marshmallows.

By the end of the month we’ll be moving into a modern heated apartment building. With neighbors to the left and to the right, with a few on top. It’s the first time my wife and son have lived in an apartment, while it’s been 40 years since I have. While back then it was easy to make friends with my neighbors. Now and days even our good Baptist neighbors don’t come by. But like the old dinosaur that I am, I’ll keep typing away creating stories for no one in particular. Continuing to piss off the algorithms that want to control my life. Flapping in the breeze like the laundry.

Above My Raisin'

12/12/2024

I spent part of my morning working on a post I just put up on the website. It seems that my AI Overlord isn’t happy with my writing style and wants me to be more “clerical”. Well I hate to tell my “all knowing buddy”, but that just ain’t my style. You see I’m southern born and southern breed. I grew up in a polite nice/nasty little town of Savannah, GA where compliments were often interwoven with snarky little remarks. So forgive me if my native tongue doesn’t translate well to more “sensitive ears”, but it’s hard to live above my raisin’.

Across the way I can hear an air compressor running over in the logging yard. Next door the once respectable Baptist (I’m still holding a grudge) are putting out their smokes to head inside to church. Meanwhile I’m sitting with my back to the sun enjoying a light cool breeze with a few brushed on white clouds paint above a plain blue sky. It appears everybody was a little naughty Saturday night judging by the number of cars parked next door. All while lowly old me, listens to the choir of chirping birds in the woods across the street.

Growing up in a port city I guess I have a different perspective on how life works. Back home I was surrounded by all kinds of people both black and white, gay and straight, rich and poor. Back then we all just seemed to get or at least be cordial towards one another. In the mid-1980’s I briefly lived in Chicago, I remember how overwhelmed I was by the pace of that city. But while it seemed a little dangerous, most people there were still friendly and personable.

But as the church bell rings calling the people to worship. I’m reminded of how alienating one can be made to feel when you are not welcome. It’s a suspicion you feel in your gut given off by those that dominant. It’s a feeling I felt when I was bullied as a kid. It’s the feeling one gets when despite your best efforts, your still considered less than. You see, it’s not so much a desire to live above my raisin’, but to overcome the prejudice that’s trying to keep me down.