School daze

A smarmy e-mailer took me to task for daring to mention the other day that both my old sidekick and I toiled away under less than ideal conditions in a developmental sense. And he used the following paragraph, penned by me, as proof that I was “whining again.”

I’ll not use his full name here, but at one time Mike and I were inseparable. And even though we had radically different skin colors, we were much the same in that we both lived in a public housing project, we had no father figures, our families were hamstrung by very limited financial resources and we were both being nudged in the right direction by our relentlessly watchful mothers. More accurately, we were being pushed and shoved in the right direction by those moms of ours.

Short and sweet, here’s my response to that e-mail: Facts is facts. And stating facts should never be misconstrued as whining. Thing is, about the only thing that gets me to whining aloud is NFL officiating. Oh, and the helmet-first late hits the scumbag Philthydumpia Eagles are known for administering to a pile as the whistle is being blown.

Oddly enough, while Mike and I were operating out of that public housing project, that was probably the most stability I enjoyed throughout my years as a juvenile. I had the same address for almost six years. I attended the same school for five years. And I also went 5-plus years without getting beat within an inch of my life by a father figure.

Sure, we were poor back when being on public assistance meant you were provided with a far more threadbare existence than are the lifetime welfare recipients of today, but you have to look at the bright side, I guess.

Anyway, I provide the following list not as proof of poverty or anything. Rather, I’ll publish it here to show how debilitating and disruptive marital disharmony can be on a child.

This list was compiled some years ago by my sister and I as a way of demonstrating to our much younger brother just how chaotic our shared childhood was. Oh, and how it drove the sales of U-Haul for years on end. It was our way of saying to him, “You think you had it bad?”

This is a list of addresses we resided at and the school’s I attended starting from when my mom’s ill-fated and beyond combative second marriage began in very late 1962.

1962...225 Golden Hill Street…Bridgeport, CT.

1963...686 Capital Avenue…Bridgeport, CT.

1963...264 Howe Avenue…Shelton, CT…Kindergarten at Ferry School.

1963-64...27 Hill Street…Shelton, CT…Finished Kindergarten at Unknown School.

1964-65...Oxford Road…Oxford, CT…1st Grade at Oxford School.***

1965-66...638 N. Washington St…Wilkes-Barre…2nd Grade at St. John’s.

1966...124 Direnzo Heights…Derby, CT…Finished 2nd Grade at Bradley School.

1966-1968...Direnzo Heights…Derby, CT…3rd and half of 4th grade.***

1968...25 George Avenue…Derby, CT…part of 4th grade.

1968...638 N. Washington St….Wilkes-Barre…finished 4th grade at St John’s.

1968...Pulaski Highway…Derby, CT…Start 5th grade at Derby elementary.

1968...Caroline Street…Derby, CT…Part of 5th grade at Unknown School.

1968...638 N. Washington St….Wilkes-Barre…Finish 5th grade at Courtright School.

1968...6 Alcott St…Ansonia, CT….Summer.

1968-69...9 Clark St….Ansonia, CT….6th grade at Lincoln School.***

1969-70...9 Clark St….Ansonia, CT…Part of 7th grade at Lincoln School.

1970...638 N. Washington St…Wilkes-Barre…Part of 7th grade at St. John’s.

1970...24 Hubbell Ave…Ansonia, CT….Finish 7th grade at Lincoln School.

1970-71...24 Hubbell Avenue…Ansonia, CT….Start 8th grade at Lincoln School.

1971...396 N. Washington St…Wilkes-Barre…Finish 8th grade at Coughlin High.

1972-1976...200 Coal St…Wilkes-Barre…9th through 12th grade at Coughlin High.

The triple asterisks (***) denote that I had spent an entire school year at the same school. And excluding the Coughlin years, that happened only three times. And if you noticed, I spent a few school years split between three separate schools. And they wonder why I don’t have a gaggle of long-time friends.

Anyway, this list demonstrates what nonstop marital problems and what the subsequent separations and repatriations can reduce a kid’s life to…being the shell-shocked equivalent of a military brat.

That’s why the poorer years spent in public housing, what I like to call the Oatmeal, Hot Dog and generic Kool-Aid days, were the closest thing we ever had that resembled stability and normalcy.

And it probably speaks a lot as to why I’ve been married to the same girl for 30 years, and why we’ve only had three addresses throughout our marriage. Needless to say, good father or bad father, I did not do to my three kids what was done to me. Good or bad, what I gave them was some sense of normalcy, and an expectation of what they could and should expect in the future.

As I said, facts is facts. And stating facts sure isn’t whining. But if nothing else, this could give you an insight into what your kid’s future might hold if you’re too lazy and too stupid to make your marriage work.

Spoken like a true marriage counselor, ain’t it?

For what it's worth, there it is.

Later