Saturday, March 21, 2009
Well Water...Prologue
"It takes a soap opera, to be in a soap opera…" Melody Thomas Scott co-host of Soap Net’s Soap Talk during an interview with Chrishell Stause of ABC's All My Children.
Our story begins on October 8, 1971. Well, it begins much farther back than that, but for our purposes we'll begin with the birth your humble narrator. I don't remember too much about my birth, in fact I don't remember anything at all. But I've heard stories. I was a child born of the minor "baby boom" that occurred close to the end of the Viet Nam war. It wasn't much of a boom, but since I was the by product of a "welcome home Tom party" I'm going to call it that. My father, Tom (obviously), was stationed in Viet Nam in the last years of 1960 and the first years of 1970. My brother, Neal, was born two years earlier than me, and my father was unable to be there. My mother, Judy, went into labor and my grandfather had to drive her to the hospital for the delivery. Dad was so saddened about missing the birth of his first son, that he definitely made up for it with his second and most favored.
Dad was finishing up his time with the Army at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. They lived in a little apartment on base which meant that Dad was close to work and the monthly rent was a little easier to make than off base housing. Mom was about eight and a half months pregnant with moi and was tooling around the base every day, taking care of little Neal and doing what Army wives do. One morning, bright and early, my mother went into labor. Not the kind of labor that you knew you had to get to the hospital very soon, but the kind of labor that wasn't going to what for anything. The kind of labor that screamed, “ready or not, hear I come!” Apparently, I was so intent on getting out into the world, I decided that the living room floor of my parents' apartment would be the best place for me to make my first appearance.
So there we were, birds chirping. My mother screaming in pain. Big brother Neal yelling out "Morning! Morning!" from behind the wooden child gate in the hallway. And me pushing my way through. Since there was no time to spare, we all decided that Dad would be the best person out of all of us to supervise this event. We did exam his qualifications before hand and were quite impressed with his resume. You see, Dad was a medic in the Army. You know, the guy that follows along behind the platoon and helps the wounded while that battle rages about 50 yards ahead. And while Dad was not really into the "engaging the enemy" part of being a soldier, he was shot at plenty of times while working. So benefit number one of Dad overseeing my debut, was the fact that he could work under pressure.
Another interesting experience that Dad had while stationed in Nam was when a sailor came into the medical tent after a bar fight. He was on the receiving end of a bottle to the face and Dad spent the better part of the night sewing this poor soul up with over 100 stitches. So benefit number two was that Dad could work in an environment conducive of a medical procedure.
Lastly, he was still in the army and therefore accustomed to following orders without hesitation. A good attribute to have when your “superior officer” is lying on the floor in the latter stages of childbirth.
These three qualifications, and the fact that Mom was somewhat indisposed to think clearly and Neal was too busy stomping and whining for attention, made pop the best choice. So seeing as how he completely missed the birth of his first child, we all feel that he was completely satisfied with the experience of the birth of his second child. There's nothing quite like hands on experience, is there?
Aside from the actual setting of the delivery, and the fact that Pop tied the umbilical cord with a shoe lace, it was a fairly straightforward birth. And thus, your humble narrator is born into this world.
Stay tuned...
Our story begins on October 8, 1971. Well, it begins much farther back than that, but for our purposes we'll begin with the birth your humble narrator. I don't remember too much about my birth, in fact I don't remember anything at all. But I've heard stories. I was a child born of the minor "baby boom" that occurred close to the end of the Viet Nam war. It wasn't much of a boom, but since I was the by product of a "welcome home Tom party" I'm going to call it that. My father, Tom (obviously), was stationed in Viet Nam in the last years of 1960 and the first years of 1970. My brother, Neal, was born two years earlier than me, and my father was unable to be there. My mother, Judy, went into labor and my grandfather had to drive her to the hospital for the delivery. Dad was so saddened about missing the birth of his first son, that he definitely made up for it with his second and most favored.
Dad was finishing up his time with the Army at Fort Campbell, Kentucky. They lived in a little apartment on base which meant that Dad was close to work and the monthly rent was a little easier to make than off base housing. Mom was about eight and a half months pregnant with moi and was tooling around the base every day, taking care of little Neal and doing what Army wives do. One morning, bright and early, my mother went into labor. Not the kind of labor that you knew you had to get to the hospital very soon, but the kind of labor that wasn't going to what for anything. The kind of labor that screamed, “ready or not, hear I come!” Apparently, I was so intent on getting out into the world, I decided that the living room floor of my parents' apartment would be the best place for me to make my first appearance.
So there we were, birds chirping. My mother screaming in pain. Big brother Neal yelling out "Morning! Morning!" from behind the wooden child gate in the hallway. And me pushing my way through. Since there was no time to spare, we all decided that Dad would be the best person out of all of us to supervise this event. We did exam his qualifications before hand and were quite impressed with his resume. You see, Dad was a medic in the Army. You know, the guy that follows along behind the platoon and helps the wounded while that battle rages about 50 yards ahead. And while Dad was not really into the "engaging the enemy" part of being a soldier, he was shot at plenty of times while working. So benefit number one of Dad overseeing my debut, was the fact that he could work under pressure.
Another interesting experience that Dad had while stationed in Nam was when a sailor came into the medical tent after a bar fight. He was on the receiving end of a bottle to the face and Dad spent the better part of the night sewing this poor soul up with over 100 stitches. So benefit number two was that Dad could work in an environment conducive of a medical procedure.
Lastly, he was still in the army and therefore accustomed to following orders without hesitation. A good attribute to have when your “superior officer” is lying on the floor in the latter stages of childbirth.
These three qualifications, and the fact that Mom was somewhat indisposed to think clearly and Neal was too busy stomping and whining for attention, made pop the best choice. So seeing as how he completely missed the birth of his first child, we all feel that he was completely satisfied with the experience of the birth of his second child. There's nothing quite like hands on experience, is there?
Aside from the actual setting of the delivery, and the fact that Pop tied the umbilical cord with a shoe lace, it was a fairly straightforward birth. And thus, your humble narrator is born into this world.
Stay tuned...
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