A well worn path

I got to thinking of my childhood this morning. I was drinking my coffee and it took me back to when I was 13. Not sure why, but I got to thinking of Mike Smith. No really that was his name, Smith. This was a man who was a neighbor of ours when I first moved to Santa Ana. He was in no way blood to me. He just saw a very lost boy who needed a man to set him on the path.

He was a man of the late 70’s, terry cloth jacket for hanging out at the pool. Custom Van beautiful interior with a couch, captain chairs, deep pile shag carpet etc… He was so very with it. He was into country music, before it was first getting into the spot light because of Urban Cowboy. Several lady friends around the neighborhood which I did not find out about until much later, turns out he was a very active with them but he did not let me see that side of him. He protected me from that, and I figure would have kept protecting me from it.

Mike Smith had become my father, mentor, a guide, if you will, on becoming a man. This was very new to me as I never had a father figure until that time. Not that my dad was just not around, or that he had died. Nope, I was California second single parent adoption, my sister being the first. (At least that is what we were told back around 1970). So I never had a father to show me the ropes, how to do man things like fix stuff, how to stand up for yourself, how to fight… I missed all of this. Not blaming my mother, she did what she could, and worked damn hard at it too. But there are things I am still trying to figure out as a man.

Anyway, Mike filled in that roll willingly, at least for a while. He had been married once before and had a daughter name Stacy. Well Stacy’s mom remarried, and after a while, I think it was her, she got a job offer in Gig Harbor, Washington. Well Mike got a job; he was an engineer, working for a submarine builder. I clearly remember this because I thought it was an awesome job to get because you would always get to try out what you were designing. So off they went, I did see them a few times after that, as a matter of fact Mike came down just after my 16th Birthday and taught me how to drive on the freeways.

I saw him a few more time after that, but it was rough, I had become a huge ass, as well as a pain in the ass, and thinking I knew it all. It was a time when my father would have knocked my dick in the dirt. I don’t mean to be vulgar but really I needed that done to me. But, I don’t think it is fair to expect that from him, he was just a volunteer after all. Just a guy who saw a little boy who needed to be put on the path to manhood, and he did what he could.

I think I will have to find out what happened to him.