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Publié par | Archway Publishing |
Date de parution | 30 septembre 2022 |
Nombre de lectures | 0 |
EAN13 | 9781665729574 |
Langue | English |
Poids de l'ouvrage | 2 Mo |
Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.
Extrait
OH NO! NOT ANOTHER BRAT!
DONALD L. MILLER
Copyright © 2022 Donald L. Miller.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Archway Publishing
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.archwaypublishing.com
844-669-3957
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
ISBN: 978-1-6657-2958-1 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-2956-7 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6657-2957-4 (e)
Library of Congress Control Number: 2022916528
Archway Publishing rev. date: 09/29/2022
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1 Trailer Trash
Chapter 2 Jerome
Chapter 3 Gompers Park
Chapter 4 My First School
Chapter 5 New School
Chapter 6 My One and Only Birthday
Chapter 7 Our Dentist
Chapter 8 Going to Dental School
Chapter 9 Hundred-Year-Old Woman
Chapter 10 The Day I Died
Chapter 11 Bottle Collecting
Chapter 12 Falling in Piss River
Chapter 13 Spear Fishermen
Chapter 14 I’m a Flunkie
Chapter 15 Daddy, Daddy
Chapter 16 What’s Wrong with Nana?
Chapter 17 Nana on Our Roof
Chapter 18 My Worst Crime
Chapter 19 The Devil Won
Chapter 20 Laugh Your Troubles Away
Chapter 21 Finders Keepers
Chapter 22 Whealan Pool
Chapter 23 The Great Fossil Search
Chapter 24 Free Baseball
Chapter 25 Milton
Chapter 26 Mrs. Tanski—Last Hope
Chapter 27 God Punished Me
Chapter 28 Dad Whipped My Ass Good
Chapter 29 I Killed Raymie
Chapter 30 My Zoo
Chapter 31 Taxman Lurks in Our Neighborhood
Chapter 32 I Meant Curly
Chapter 33 I Really Liked Grandma Miller
Chapter 34 Schramm’s Toy Shop
Chapter 35 The Little Pisser
Chapter 36 Pace
Chapter 37 Swinging with the Byrds
Chapter 38 The Move
Chapter 39 A Bully Attack
Chapter 40 A Train Ride to Wherever
Chapter 41 BB Gun Fight
Chapter 42 Let’s Run Away
Chapter 43 Onward
Chapter 44 Sleepless in Kankakee
Chapter 45 Cops and More Cops
Chapter 46 Where to Next?
Chapter 47 Looking for Tommy
Chapter 48 Bowling, Anyone? Our Treat
Chapter 49 Who’s Been in My Room?
Chapter 50 Pigeon Poop Loft
Chapter 51 Strangers Kidnapping Us?
Chapter 52 Never Drink and Drive
Chapter 53 In the Great State of Florida
Chapter 54 Girls
Chapter 55 Vero Beach—Bust or Boom
Chapter 56 Grandma Had a Dark Side
Chapter 57 The Lucky Old Son
Chapter 58 Anne
Chapter 59 Approached by a Pedophile
Chapter 60 Visiting Edith
Chapter 61 No One Home?
Chapter 62 A Special Announcement
Chapter 63 The Grand Announcement
Chapter 64 Was I That Damn Stupid?
Chapter 65 Which Way Do I Go?
Chapter 66 The Great Wrestler
Chapter 67 To the Moon, Ruth
Chapter 68 In the Navy Now
Chapter 69 Hawaii
Chapter 70 GED or Bust
Chapter 71 Cecil Ford, My Mentor
Chapter 72 I Need a Volunteer
Chapter 73 The Locals Are Loco
Chapter 74 Sissy Loved Cherry Pies
Chapter 75 Caught
Chapter 76 Safe Refuge
Chapter 77 Mom Is Home
Chapter 78 Welcome Home. Put on a Skirt
Chapter 79 Dad’s Black Hatred
Chapter 80 The Murphy Home
Chapter 81 I’m What?
Chapter 82 Jubilation with a Capital “J”
Chapter 83 The Hearing
Chapter 84 Not Pregnant
Chapter 85 Party Time
Chapter 86 A Surprise Visit
Chapter 87 A Visit to My Old Flame
Chapter 88 A Leave to Remember
Chapter 89 Our Wedding Day Is a-Coming
Chapter 90 Mom’s Vacation
Chapter 91 Help!
Chapter 92 She Really Likes Me
Chapter 93 Unreal
Chapter 94 Rotten Eggs, Anyone?
Chapter 95 Annie, Get Your Gun
Chapter 96 What Red Car?
Chapter 97 Belated Wedding Reception
Chapter 98 A Surprise Guest
Chapter 99 Wes-Pac or Not
Chapter 100 Six-Month Cruise
Chapter 101 Can I Bum a Ride?
Chapter 102 Out of the Navy
Chapter 103 Hi-Ho, It’s Off to Work I Go
Chapter 104 A Sunday Night Drive
Chapter 105 Subassembly Boss
Chapter 106 Hot Dogs
Chapter 107 Got Caught with My Hot Dog Out
Chapter 108 My Last Day
Chapter 109 On My Own Now
Chapter 110 Gomer the Rat
Chapter 111 A Talk with Dad
Chapter 112 Fed Up
Chapter 113 Route 66, Do or Die
Chapter 114 Picking Up Hippies
Chapter 115 Alone Again
Chapter 116 VWs Need Oil Too
Chapter 117 On the Road Again
Chapter 118 Junk Breaks Down
Chapter 119 Through the Desert We Walked
Chapter 120 Finally, a Ride
Chapter 121 Mission Impossible
Chapter 122 A Miracle on Hollywood and Vine
Chapter 123 Off to Work I Go, Hi-Ho
Chapter 124 The New Guy
Chapter 125 Monday Morning
Chapter 126 Going Home
Chapter 127 I Need a Psychiatrist
Chapter 128 The End for Dad
Chapter 129 Dad’s Favorite Stomping Grounds
Chapter 130 Mom Commits Herself
Epilogue
Hospice
PROLOGUE
My editor asked how I could have been such a lonely boy, having seven siblings. In my eighty years I’d never thought about it—until she asked. Our tyrant father never took any interest in us kids, and our mother was always taking care of the little ones. We were a bunch of birds fighting for the proverbial worm of attention from our mother. It seemed she only cared about us when we were young, and I don’t remember her ever saying the words “I love you.” Could this be why we kids had no interest in or affection for each other? It felt as though we were all on separate islands.
I was so terribly shy throughout my childhood. There were times when I’d walk into a roomful of people and feel as if all eyes were looking at me. My head would tense up; my face would get red; and my eyes would water. Possibly a few tears would slide down my red cheeks.
I eventually overcame my shyness, and some might say I’m quite the opposite now, always striking up conversations with complete strangers. Come to think of it, that’s how my mother was.
I’ve done some outlandish and attention-getting things throughout the years, such as making unique floats for the local parades and running in seven marathons, starting at age forty-eight (in 1991, I ran the Chicago Marathon, which was held close to Halloween, wearing a devil mask the entire race). Then there was the wheelbarrow race where I pushed a barrow at Rockford Speedway with a fellow employee’s wife hanging on for dear life. Didn’t know I would have to do it twice since I’d qualified for the finals.
It seems I always needed to be doing something to keep myself busy. I’d made a stained glass window, painted pictures on old barn wood shingles, drew portraits and paintings, wrote poems, practiced yoga poses, played horseshoes, jogged, and visited old abandoned houses to find antiques and old beer cans.
Once, I woke up early and decided to jog all the way to work, which was seventeen miles away. I was never, ever late for work, and on that day, true to form, I arrived as the bell rang. I was a little sweaty and smelly, but I made it.
In 1993 I made a Stamp Man costume for the Fourth of July parade from thousands of postage stamps I had acquired through the years. It was more of a collage. Each stamp fitted like a puzzle piece with none of them overlapping each other. It was a challenge. I then glued them onto of roll of wallpaper as I worked nights, in addition to my full-time job, at my wife’s twenty-four-hour answering service. When finished, I secured the ensemble on a blue plastic tarp. It became my twenty-foot-long cape. I also made a tall dunce hat covered with stamps. It was a hot Fourth of July, and I was dressed in black, about ten feet tall with the aid of homemade stilts, wearing shorts covered with stamps. My kids and grandkids walked behind me holding up the cape (hoping not to be recognized by anyone). My car was in front as I walked, a large Elvis Presley stamp towel on its hood. Inside, my wife was driving. With the help of a tape recorder and loudspeaker in car, the song “Stamp Man” rang out. It was an edited version from the Batman original. About halfway along the mile course, as we were going up a hill, one of my stilt straps broke and I took a big tumble, making a belly flop on the blacktop street. My famil