|
Edited on Tue Feb-24-09 12:28 PM by Droopy
No, I have not posted in the wrong forum :) This is the 33rd story in this series that I've written for the lounge and I thought you guys might like it here, too. It is a story about mental health after all. Writing is good therapy for me, and I'm happy that I have DU here to post these stories on. I know not everyone here has a happy home right now. If that is the case, tell me about your ideal home. Where would it be and who would you live with?
I've lived in the Dayton, Ohio area since I was 4 years old. I'm 36 now. I actually only lived within the city of Dayton for a couple of years. The rest of the time I have lived in the south suburbs- Moraine, West Carrollton, Miamisburg, Centerville, and currently in Miami Township. I bet you didn't know Dayton had so many suburbs. And those are just the southern ones. And not even all of them! Yeah, buddy, we're a regular ol' bustling metropolis here.
Things haven't been looking good lately here at the homestead. Lot's of people out of work, including one of my brothers-in-law. A GM plant in Moraine shut down for good at the end of last year. They say that cost us 6000 jobs. DHL in Wilmington shut down costing another couple of thousand. The UPS hub at Dayton International Airport shut down. I think that also cost us a couple of thousand jobs. The trucking industry is suffering here, too, I guess like it is most places. There used to be an entire page in the Dayton Daily News Sunday classifieds devoted to trucking companies seeking drivers. In last Sunday's paper there were five ads and three of them were for bottom feeder companies that nobody with more than a couple of years experience wants to work for. Yeah, we could use some of that economic stimulatin'.
I've lost touch with most of my childhood friends, but I still know one guy from when I lived in Miamisburg. I lived there from when I was 13 until I was 24 and flew out of the nest. I'd still like to live in Miamisburg, but they started building McMansions there and the yuppies moved in making everything in sight more expensive. Miamisburg used to be a little hillbilly town. Back in the mid 70s, when my grandfolks lived there, many people were still without indoor plumbing. We lived with my grandparents for a little while after my dad got out of the service. I still remember the outhouse they used to have. It scared and repulsed me. I was afraid I was going to fall down in that thing.
Anyway, I was going to tell you about the guy I know from Miamisburg. I've known him since I was 15, so 21 years. He's a sad case. He's 35 and still lives at home. I don't know what's wrong with him. He won't work. I think it's more than laziness- he might not be quite right in the head. We went through a lot of drugs when we were younger. It fucked me up and I wouldn't be surprised if it did him, too. He just sits in his room all day smoking cigarettes and downloading on Limewire. Smokes and a computer seems to be all he wants in life. But it's always good to see him. We sit around and talk like old men about how the times have changed and old times. He always turns to the past and recalls all of the crazy, stupid shit that we did when we were younger. It reminds me of that Bruce Springsteen song "Glory Days." That's my friend in a nutshell. Except we were never on the baseball team in high school. We were too cool for that. We were metal heads, and, damn straight, we had some killer mullets. :)
I guess I've told you enough bad stuff. There's more, but I'll leave it for another story. My aim when I started writing this was to tell you how much I love it here. When I was riding down I-75 this morning on my way home from work and caught exit 47 for West Carrollton, I felt elated. The sun was just coming up and the sky was clear; the old familiar buildings and the Great Miami River easing it's way southward. This place feels like no other place on earth and I guess I really haven't paid enough attention to it lately. Or maybe I haven't paid enough attention to what I'm feeling. I wish I could work here and not leave the confines of this place unless I wanted to, not because I have to, like now. I've been trying to get a job here for a while now and get off the road. Mostly entry level stuff, but it still isn't happening.
There's a barber shop in downtown West Carrollton called Baron's. Nine dollars a hair cut. The guy that owns the place is really named Baron and he's about my age, I guess. That barber shop has been there for as long as I can remember and I forget what it was called before Baron bought it. When I look to Baron I see exactly who I want to be. Not necessarily a barber, but that guy is in there from 9-5, he enjoys what he does, he owns his own business, everybody knows who he is, and he never leaves this place unless he's going fishing or to a Reds game. That guy's got it made.
|