Learning to Cry by Christopher C. Payne

Author:Christopher C. Payne [Payne, Christopher C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-06-26T10:14:14+00:00

A daughter’s smile can sometimes entice

It is filled with love, sugar and spice

She flips her hair and gives you a wink

A father’s heart will melt, then sink

What is real, what is a lie

Innocence falls, you have to ask why

When she lies down, then dims the light

No matter with whom, the ceiling is white

Small towns = safety, sex and drugs

Father

Growing up in a small town has advantages and disadvantages. Damn, this thought actually mirrors my overall way of thinking. I continuously talk about everything being both good and bad. There can be a positive and a negative aspect to anything, really. In business, it is called opportunity costs. You might even find two different approaches are both positive, but one has a greater payoff than another. Therefore, one would actually end up costing you revenue or profit. As I have found throughout my life you can only accomplish so much in the span of a single day.

When I was growing up I lived in a house for a couple of years with my dad and his second wife. We had a lagoon in the back yard between us and our neighbors. A lagoon is nothing more than a sewage facility, and our entire block used this one. My friend and I decided to make a fort on the bank of one side. We fished out some hammers and some nails from our garage, found some old wood, and before you knew it we had a 3-foot-tall structure that had three walls. You had to crawl inside but you could sit up. You just didn’t have much room to roam around once you got there. We worked on it all weekend. When Monday came we went to school, and as soon as the bus transported us home, we dropped our bags and ran down the hill to jump in.

I was lucky enough to be the first one off the bus. It was still warm outside, and the sun had not yet set. Since it was fall, the day did not last long with the shortened daylight savings time, so we didn’t have long to play. I crawled inside where we had stuffed some sleeping bags, comics and a few GI Joe actions figures. Within less than 20 seconds I was face-to-face with a huge black snake about the size of a full grown whale. That is how I remember it, anyway. I jumped up, hit my head, and backed out as fast as I could. I was in a full sprint, running up the little hill yelling, “Snake, snake, snake!” I never went back into that fort again.

One time, when I was growing up, I was at my cousin’s house, and my uncle was out in the backyard shooting guns. He had a 45 but was spending most of his time firing shotguns. I had never shot a weapon at that point, and he let me hold his mammoth-sized pistol, asking me if I wanted to pull the trigger. I grinned from ear-to-ear, happily accepting the invitation and within seconds was holding a loaded weapon.

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