Whoa! Didja get the numbers off that truck?!?
February 19, 2005 - 9:57 p.m.
Subtext
Since this is a venue of contact for a rare few, I must say this: � Please listen hearJeremy's visit
Last time I saw Jeremy, he was ten years old.� Jeremy is an intensly brilliant person. I could see it, even through the "hyperactive disorder" he "suffered from."� Jeremy's mother is in many ways a beautiful person; but a terrible mother for Jeremy.� What I saw in Jeremy was intense concentration and an astute ability to multitask, in this way making the most of his "affliction."Jeremy also inherited a paternal gift of hot temper.� I could also see that intertwined in reactions with his mother.� Jeremy rarely did well under the stern gaze of his anal retentive mom.� She did things by the absolute book, including feedings when he was but a few days old.
Jeremy was gifted with twin sisters when he was about two.� That took the heat off quite a bit.� He was still pretty much on the hook with mom, and I think he used it to his advantage more than once to turn the attention to him and away from his twin sisters.� Mom still kept the clamps pretty tightly bound to Jeremy.
Jeremy discovered music.� He got a guitar and started playing it.� His first love was always video games: they were puzzles challenging enough for his intelligence.� No "attention deficit disorder" in this regard, his focus was so intense a genade could explode nearby, he would be focused on catching the mushroom.
The guitar really captured his creative spirit.� He practiced long hours, losing track of time in the process.� He got really good at it.
The conflicts continued.� He was involved with a church youth group, they played music too, it gave him someone to practice against.� He thrived in this group, they were going to Nicaragua on a mission.� He was set to go, he was working on his letters of committment to his sponsors one May afternoon when another conflict between him and his parents commenced.� It was yet another episode of button pushing, each knew the respective weaknesses of each other: Jeremy, Mom and Dad.
It culminated in the kitchen.� Mom loved the Country Look, so there were always baskets of this and that lying about.� They were in the kitchen in a shouting match; Jeremy and his mom.� He lost his temper and lobbed a basket full of nail clippers and manicure scissors in her general direction.� This was nothing new, Jeremy had often a shoe of other object flung in his direction whilst scurrying up the stairs after a skirmish.
The basket flew, emptying its contents onto mom.� She suffered a minor puncture wound and a major impact on pride and family order.� He was taller than her, a lanky lean product of exact precision feeding schedules while very young.� But he'd thrown something at her and she was outraged.� Dad appeared at about this time on the tail end of the conflict.� He had an itchy dialing finger and he used it in dialing 911.� My son is assaulting his mother.� Send a sqad.
What dad didn't know at that moment is that when you start the process of "processing your kids" they enter a system over which you won't have control.� Especially when you live in a town of about 20K population with the human embodiment of Chief Wiggum enforcing the local law.� Add to the mix a warm May afternoon with not a lot to do.� He was calmly sitting on the couch when the squads (three) descended on the crime scene, bracelets at the ready.� They cuffed him first off, and hauled him upstairs to shake down his room.� The perp they had this day was not the drug addled teenager they'd seen in their training films.� He was a normal kid.
They loaded him in the back sans shoes.� He had shorts and undershirt on.� They hauled him to the county lockup, where he spent 26 hours in a fully concrete room where the lights were on all the time.� Despite his seventeen years he was tossed in with the drunks and the addicts and petty thieves.� They kept their distance; what could be going on in the mind of a skinny kid with a scruffy beard?� He must be crazy.
He copped to "disturbing the peace" and owed a $75.00 fine.� He was also not allowed to be around his mom for a year, he took up residence at his grandmother's place.� He finished high school and is back to living in mom and dad's house, but not for long.� He's moving to his aunt's basement.� She's much "cooler."
The Jeremy I saw last night still has the essence of what I knew ten years ago, it's been tempered with maturity.��It's been three years since that event.� I was impressed with what I saw in him, he seems to have grown into his own skin.� The confidence of years has turned him into a balanced kid.� I think he'll be just fine.
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