Monday, March 12, 2012

Meanwhile Back at the Ranch.




When I was 13, I got my first real gun. It was an old .22 rifle that my father and I always carried it with us fishing. We fished off a Jon-boat and would go up in the shallows of Lake Lavon fed by the East Fork of the Trinity river. We paddled along and up the river, throwing top water plugs under the over hanging trees and enticing some pretty decent large mouth bass into exploding all over them.
There were always snakes dangling off branches and squiggling through the water. We would stay long after dark and you needed something just in case.
One time we were way up the river when it starts the pours of rain.  We beat it back to the shore and threw every thing into the station wagon along with the boat. The boat just fit nice and snug inside.
A few weeks later a friend came by to see my rifle. I raised it to my eye and doing what everyone knows never to do, I sighted in on the TV and squeezed off the trigger. Twenty-two's have no kick, and even less report.  I didn't realize we hadn't unloaded the gun until I smelled the powder smoke.
I knew the television was history. Looking at it was a formality. The sound was still working, but there it sat. A picture tube with a nice clean gunshot right through the center.
 That aged me a few years. Waiting for my father to come home added a few more. He came in from work and sat down at the dinner table. Me being there when he got home let him know there was a problem.  I was never home during daylight hours. My face told him the rest.
He looked perplexed  before he scanned the room. He saw the TV. He looked back at me and  laughed like I didn't know a person could laugh. Especially someone with a gut shot television.
Move this story up to the seven months of living with the barbarian. We talked about this incident, and she told me she had called him on the phone and told him before he got home and to go easy on me.
Really?
Damned I could have sworn he saw it for the first time when he came in. Oh well, I guess you know what you are talking about.
Thinking back now, I remember. She had been gone all day as usual. She got home less than 30 minutes before him. He had an hour drive home from work. There were no cell phones then.
Once again.
The bitch was lying.
Stone cold and to my face.  Lying like a rug.
I was reading a fellow blogger's post about gas lighting and it made me think of this. How someone can tell you something you know is a lie and you would rather think yourself crazy than to think someone else is a liar.
"Four Laws of Firearm Safety
1) All firearms are loaded. - There are no exceptions. Don't pretend that this is true. Know that it is and handle all firearms accordingly. Do not believe it when someone says: "It isn't loaded."
2) Never let the muzzle of a firearm point at anything you are not willing to destroy. - If you would not want to see a bullet hole in it do not allow a firearm's muzzle to point at it.
3) Keep your finger off the trigger unless your sights are on the target. - Danger abounds if you keep your finger on the trigger when you are not about to shoot. Speed is not gained by prematurely placing your finger on the trigger as bringing a firearm to bear on a target takes more time than it takes to move your finger to the trigger.
4) Be sure of your target and what is behind it. - Never shoot at sounds or a target you cannot positively identify. Know what is in line with the target and what is behind it (bullets are designed to go through things). Be aware of your surroundings whether on a range, in the woods, or in a potentially lethal conflict."





19 comments:

Anonymous said...

wow, how could you say she was lying? She psychically knew she needed to call him about the t.v. and sacrificed two minutes out of her rendevous. Even though he worked outside and there was no way to call him. etc. etc. lol

Sis

Jonsi said...

"someone can tell you something you know is a lie and you would rather think yourself crazy than to think someone else is a liar."

Boy, I know the feeling...

"Nah...I'M the crazy one here. Not him. He wouldn't do that. I must have made it up in my head. Yeah. I made it up...

Then why do I still feel so shitty? Why do I still feel so deceived?" [Sad little shrug]

What I don't understand in this case, is what was the reason behind her lie? I'm usually pretty good at spotting the reason for it, but in this case, I can't. What did she get out of it?

q1605 said...

There is no reason I can think of. Just bored and wanted to act like she was my savior. Hell if I know. That was my point in an earlier post. She just lies. Because the sky is blue. She likes to buy clothes and return them. With out wearing them or taking off the tags. She will concoct elaborate stories and tell the clerk.
Why not give it to them with the receipt and just ask for your money back.
After her stroke she was going on to her Dr. about how she didn't know how she was going to get to her appointments. He pointed at me and said he'll bring you.
I don't keep guns any more. I got rid of them long ago.

Jonsi said...

Okay, I was thinking that: There may not have been any actual reason for the lie...at least not any sane reason. I think I was thinking about it too literally: Lies typically are about avoiding blame, escaping punishment, self-protection, etc. Sometimes they are just about hurting people - those are the ones that are really hard for me to wrap my mind around. Probably because I don't operate that way.

(Thus the "I'm the crazy one" rationale)

q1605 said...

Yeah. They just lie. Mean hurtful lies designed to wound people and destroy relationships.
Lies that make no sense. Other than N glorification.
Just lies.
The thing is that when I came to this realization, I couldn't believe anything at all about parts of my history I was counting on for her to fill in.
Nothing. You can't count on her to tell the truth about the color of the sky on any given day.

Anonymous said...

I think as she got older she wanted to be perceived as the family Hero. So in order to do that she had to rewrite all the stories and change everything. A revisionist, like Russia does or did when they had regime changes. She had this long story to me about how she went outside to rescue our dad when he was dying, and then I found out it was all made up. Maybe there is some sort of conscience developing, but in order to reconcile with that all the past has to be perceived differently in her brain. Crazy ... any way you toss it.

Sis

q1605 said...

Brain Salad Surgery!
For her to be perceived by me as any kind of hero she would HAVE to rewrite every MF'ing thing I know.
The frustrating thing is I never wanted a hero. I just wanted a mother. She never had to ask for forgiveness, forgiveness was automatic. But even that was not good enough for her.

Anonymous said...

"Brain Salad Surgery!"

Isn't that the truth!

"... But even that was not good enough for her."

I think she just can't give. To me loving is about giving. and the other things that she can't do, like forgiveness. And giving approval. Not possible.

Sis

upsi said...

The disordered mother seems to take such pleasure in rewriting events - one of the perks of vulnerability in children is this parental power to recast any tale to suit her mood that day. The ease with which the lies spew forth is hard for any reason-abiding person to grasp. It just seems so pointless to lie about these little things. But the little things are where they get away with so much, riding the wave of other people's disbelief that anyone would care to lie about details to suit themselves.

I love that your dad laughed, that must have been a relief. And I'll bet you never made that mistake again!

q1605 said...

No way baybee. I eventually sold all the guns I had and haven't been hunting in decades.

Lisa said...

She lied so she could take credit. Easy as that.

q1605 said...

But her default to lying is so hard wired she lies when it is obvious that two seconds of thought would expose her lie. This was about 1972. We lived in the country and had what was called party lines. That's where 4 or 5 people all shared one phone line. There was no cell phones, no nothing. Like my sister joked about. For her lie to be true her and my father would have had to be able to communicate telepathically. You think that stopped her for one second ? Hell no.
Just lie lie lie.
As Gomer Pyle would say.

vicariousrising said...

My mother lies for ridiculous things also. Most of the time, they seem to be recasting herself in a better light. Like she recently started telling people she went to a college that she did not attend or this new story about how a professor of hers plagiarized an assignment of hers (a tale which held little to no water). I always think: who cares? But apparently she has to invent all sorts of scenarios where she comes out rosy.

Bizarre doesn't begin to explain it. They are disordered, for sure.

q1605 said...

My mother always claimed to have an IQ of like 160. Off the friggan charts. I never gave it much thought one way or the other. But knowing her for what she is I have to consider the source and know she is lying her ass off.

Lisa said...

Yeah, I remember a little before I left, I was next to her and I sighed. And she didn't like me sighing so she told me to stop sighing, didn't I know that sighing is bad for you. Which...it's not. I was surprised that she would make up something so stupid right there like I'm some five year old who would eat it up. Really, my only thought was Really? You say that really expecting me to believe you? Really? That's just it? That's how it works?
If they don't like something, they'll make something up. If something good happened, they say they did it. Like saying it makes it real. Like that's all it takes.
Snort.
Oh God.

q1605 said...

I always thought my mother was straight up. A little eccentric but straight up. I hadn't lived with her since I was 15. Moved in with her at 51 to help her get on her feet after her stroke. In seven months of living with her I was to the point if she promised the sun would come up tomorrow, I would go clean the shelves at Wal-Mart and stock up on flash lights and batteries.

Lisa said...

And I always thought my mom was sane. Scary, but sane. Boy, was I wrong!

q1605 said...

No shit. It's hard to believe looking back now and seeing what we had convinced ourselves what was normal.

Charity said...

Lies, Lies, and more Lies.

That's what my momster does Best.