Willis/Homer
The reason I started this blog to begin with was that I wanted to write a book. I felt like my writting was suffering because I never wrote and I wanted to document the stories of my life whilte their still fresh in my mind. That includes when I have a memory of my childhood that all of a sudden is clear. I had one of those moments yesterday and I have to document it here. As my life settles down expect more posts like this.
My father never called my by my first name until I graduated high school. He always called me either Willis/Willy or Homer. There was no reason to give me a nick name, my name is bizare enough. It's not like he would yell out "NJX70!" in a crowd and I wouldn't think he was talking to me. Also, this was from as early as I can remember, and seeing as I can remember my own birth, that means he was calling me by my nick names since 1980. There were no simpsons when he was calling me Homer. Willis/Willy... I have no idea why. I have no idea where those names came from either. I still want to answer anytime I hear either name because I was called Homer or Willy growing up more than I was called NJX70. I still remember being called NJX70 for the first time. It was on a fishing boat right before I graduated. I was done with school and had 3 days off before the actual ceremony. My dad took me out for blues off of Belmar, NJ. He called me NJX70 and I stopped and felt funny. It was then that I realized that I couldn't remeber ever hearing him say my name. I'm sure he did, but not in conversation. I don't know what he was thinking or why he did that, but there was an obvious switch from being called my "childhood" names and my "grownup" name that happened the day I was done with public school. All I want in life is to be the man my father is, and in a strange way, him not using my name until I was almost 19 years old and then doing a 180 and never calling me Willy or Homer again was special. I miss being called by my childhood nick names, but I wouldn't change any part of this story for the world.
OK, enough of that. Tonight I'm going down to Philadelphia. Let the speculation begin.
My father never called my by my first name until I graduated high school. He always called me either Willis/Willy or Homer. There was no reason to give me a nick name, my name is bizare enough. It's not like he would yell out "NJX70!" in a crowd and I wouldn't think he was talking to me. Also, this was from as early as I can remember, and seeing as I can remember my own birth, that means he was calling me by my nick names since 1980. There were no simpsons when he was calling me Homer. Willis/Willy... I have no idea why. I have no idea where those names came from either. I still want to answer anytime I hear either name because I was called Homer or Willy growing up more than I was called NJX70. I still remember being called NJX70 for the first time. It was on a fishing boat right before I graduated. I was done with school and had 3 days off before the actual ceremony. My dad took me out for blues off of Belmar, NJ. He called me NJX70 and I stopped and felt funny. It was then that I realized that I couldn't remeber ever hearing him say my name. I'm sure he did, but not in conversation. I don't know what he was thinking or why he did that, but there was an obvious switch from being called my "childhood" names and my "grownup" name that happened the day I was done with public school. All I want in life is to be the man my father is, and in a strange way, him not using my name until I was almost 19 years old and then doing a 180 and never calling me Willy or Homer again was special. I miss being called by my childhood nick names, but I wouldn't change any part of this story for the world.
OK, enough of that. Tonight I'm going down to Philadelphia. Let the speculation begin.
posted by NJX70 at 2:59 PM
2 Comments:
That was a joke. The first thing I really remeber was when I was coming up on 1 year old. I was talking and walking way ahead of scedule and I actually used to break out of my crib. I watched my mother put me in and how she raised the side and locked it from underneath. I would wake up, reach under the crib, undo the bar, the bar would slide down to the floor and I'd swing my leg over the top and slide down like a fireman. My mother couldn't figure out how I was getting out of my crib so she asked me to show her. I said, "Like this, mommy." and got out. The next day I had my very first real bed!
That story about you and the crib is so sweet. :)
Post a Comment
<< Home