Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Welcome to reality...

Ok, so to continue with the story of the bubble bursting and my perfect brothers breaking my heart....



That was back in 1969-1970. The truth is that the couple who rented the first floor of this house were also pot smokers, flower children of the time. They were pretty great people, mellowed by pot smoking I'm sure. But my brothers???



We were the imperfect Catholic family, raised in the church, seven boys (one died at 3 days old), two girls (one, of course, being me), a working mother, and an alcoholic dad. We were at church seven days a week because we cleaned the convent and school on Saturdays to help pay for all of us attending the parochial school. Attending Mass six days a week affected each of us in a different way, the common denominator being that none of us attend Mass any longer, at least not since Mom died.

However, we were trained in the traditional Catholic value system as taught in school and as disciplined rather than as demonstrated by the parents. Do what I say not what I do... okay.


Thus, protected by naivete I was dumb in the ways of drugs and believed everything I was told about their threatened ruination of everything bodily. There was a TV commercial popular in the day that shows an egg, "This is your brain" and then an egg frying, "This is your brain on drugs." What else could I believe, no way was I ever going to try the stuff!


Ok, so back to my brothers and their visit to Mom via my apartment, I mean, after all, these are my long trusted brothers! So, after calming down I just listened to them discuss their separate adventures in Vietnam. Wow, hard to believe that there really was a war going on halfway around the world, even if the media and the president kept saying that it really wasn't a war.


Well, we took Tim's car to Mom's house. We both had GTO convertibles, his was '67 automatic and mine was a '66 3-speed. Nice cars, and fun. So, in the car with Tim driving and Dan riding in the passenger car, I rode on the console. Although I didn't and wouldn't smoke pot, they passed a joint (or two?) back and forth blowing smoke at me nearly the whole ride to Mom's house. My word, after that EVERYthing was funny to me. I was so self-conscious but when Mom looked at me, then at Tim, and asked him if he fed me some funny pills, I nearly exploded. That much I remember.

So after that I wasn't QUITE so demeaning to "potheads" but I'll admit I was prejudice to some point. I still kept it out of "my world" even as I learned to accept it. I was always too paranoid and didn't partake with my brothers or our common friends. And I nearly cried when Danny's friend Randy told me I was "naturally stoned." How rude! But Danny explained it later that it was a compliment because I could be just as funny as them without being stoned. That made me feel better and less uptight. But I still wouldn't smoke it.

...to be continued....

Thursday, February 26, 2009

haha to that!

Okay, so I started this several years ago and look! I'm here again.

I think I meant for this to be my "history" or the book I was going to write mostly about my firstborn, his life and death, and how tremendous God works in our lives, yes, your life, too.

So, on that thought, let's start....

Chester Daniel Shetler (name not changed to protect the innocent) came into this world on Monday, February 17, 1972 at 2:49 am after a short, hard, induced labor.

I graduated high school in 1969 ("Booze, beer, sex and wine, we're the class of '69" and "yes, '69, followed by a population explosion" and other assorted ditties for the year). Two of my six living brothers were in Vietnam that year. I had no introduction to drugs of any sort other than my Dad's daily drinking (Coors and Jim Beam). Well, we lived near Golden in Colorado, so he HAD to support the local Coors brewery, I suppose.

However, the summer of following year I ran into a guy that I thought was always pretty likable in high school, even Senior Class President. I told him that I was impressed that he was always in such a good mood and always had a smile to give. Then he showed me the tracks on his arms and told me that's how he was always able to maintain that personality. I nearly cried.

That same summer I shared an apartment created in an old house near downtown Denver. My brother Danny wrote me that he was coming home and wanted to surprise the family. We arranged that he would come to my apartment and freshen up before going to Mom's. What a surprise when Timmy, also on leave, showed up at my door! So as Danny unpacks a China doll to give me, he first takes out a plastic bag hidden in the doll. Naive me is soon informed that both Timmy and Danny know all about and DO smoke pot. I cried. Oh, my world fell all apart. My big brothers smoked pot. How could they do that?!!

Well, that leads into another story so maybe I'll go off track in another blog.....

Monday, August 6, 2007

hello hello

Well, this is my first blog on my new blogger file.

What is to follow? Only time will tell.