Lessons I’ve learned through the school of hard knocks. This is my catch-all, miscellaneous category if you will, where I address topics that don’t quite fit into the other categories.
Man date. Sometimes you are the giver and sometimes you are the receiver. But this is one date to avoid if at all possible. I’m not talking about one man going out with a male friend to see a movie and there are plenty of seats to leave an empty one between you, so no one thinks that “you’re together” as in you two are an item–if you know what I mean.
I’m talking about you buying two tickets to a concert for a singer or band that only your girlfriend, fiancée, or wife would want to see. And you bought the tickets because you wanted to make her happy, for at least one night. But for some unexplained reason, she no longer wants to go to the concert with you. It could be for any number of reasons. She has a headache, she just doesn’t want to go to the concert anymore, or she broke up with you. So now you have two concert tickets for which you paid good money! You can’t sell them at such short notice, so you call around and finally find a friend who is desperate enough to go to this concert with you because … well, just because.
No real man will admit he wants to go to a concert with you. So, you go to this concert with your friend because he once took you on a man date when his girlfriend dumped him and he had two tickets to Sting, but you feel guilty tonight because you’re only taking him to see Barry Manilow. You see the concert and make the best of an unpleasant situation. Unfortunately, you have assigned seating and you two must sit right next to each other.
You’re driving home and you realize that this wasn’t so bad after all. But then you wonder, should I take him straight home? Will he be offended if I do? Should I take him out for a drink and then take him home? Will I look desperate if I just drive him to a bar without asking him if he wants a drink? All I want to do is talk about my female problems. But he also has female problems, or he wouldn’t have gone to a Barry Manilow concert with you! Instead, you drive him straight home without saying a word. He doesn’t say anything either as he leaves the car. Both of you secretly hope that you’ll never have to go on a man date ever again!
I attended Divine Heart Seminary in Donaldson, Indiana, despite my protests. It all started when I was in the seventh grade at Holy Cross School. Two seminaries, Divine Heart Seminary and Divine Word Seminary, sent priests to talk to the boys about vocations. When I was thirteen, I thought I might be interested in becoming a priest. After all, I attended mass almost everyday. My father and all his brothers attended a seminary in Montezuma, New Mexico. My aunt was a nun, and two of my uncles were priests. But I had my doubts about the priesthood because I would have to take vows of obedience, poverty, and celibacy. Celibacy? Now wait a minute. The vow of celibacy was my main stumbling block. I knew that someday I would like to have children. Anyway, I gave both priests my name because I said I might be interested in the priesthood. Then, I forgot all about their visit.
In the eighth grade, Divine Heart Seminary called me to see if I wanted to visit their campus. They would come to my house to pick me up and drive me all the way to Donaldson, Indiana. How could I say no? Before I went to visit DHS, I truly wondered if I wanted to become a priest. I was an altar boy then and a very devout Catholic, but I did have my mischievous side. Overall, I considered myself a good person.
At the Divine Heart, I saw how the seminarians lived. I spent one weekend there and got a taste of seminary life. I slept in the dorm where I would sleep as a freshman and I got a tour of the campus with the “big brother” that I was assigned. I got to see how real seminarians lived! Well, I was disillusioned by the seminary life. I didn’t think that potential future priests should behave like these seminarians.
At Holy Cross, I was taught that just about everything was a sin: swearing, smoking, playing pool, etc. Well, I was shocked to hear the boys swearing when their were no priests or brothers present! And they were going to be priests? Then, my big brother showed me the smoking lounge. These boys were allowed to smoke? I thought smoking was a sin. But my biggest shock of all was that they had pools tables! Not one or two pool tables, but many pool tables. In fact, there were several rooms that were exclusively reserved for playing pool. At that moment, I decided that future priests should not behave like these seminarians. I absolutely knew that I would not attend this seminary because they lived sinful lives.
Later, when I had forgotten all about my visit to Divine Heart Seminary, Sister Cecilia, the principal, called me outside of the classroom to talk to me. I thought I was in trouble for something I did. She told me that DHS called and wanted to know if I was still interested in attending their seminary. I immediately told her, “No.” She said, “You’re just too shy to admit it.” We went back into the classroom, I sat down, and she addressed the class, “Well, boys and girls, you are all very fortunate! David has received a vocation. He will become a priest someday! Next year, David will be attending Divine Heart Seminary in Indiana.”
Well, that little announcement truly changed my life forever. I sure didn’t want to attend any seminary, let alone Divine Heart Seminary. Soon, my classmates started calling me Father David. In the neighborhood, the kids would see me coming and mutter under their breath, “Watch what you say. Here comes the priest.” The girl I really liked in the class lost all interest in me. The next morning when I served mass as an altar boy, Father Gilbert congratulated me on my vocation. I told him that I didn’t want to become a priest, but he didn’t believe me and said that I was just being modest.
I told my father about what had happened to me with the seminary. That’s when I learned he, too, had attended a seminary for many years. He was actually proud of the fact that I would also attend a seminary. When my mother found out about my “vocation,” she told me that she was so proud of me. No one would listen to me! I didn’t want to attend Divine Heart Seminary. I had narrowed down my choices for high school to Leo High School or De La Salle High School. Try as I might not to attend DHS, I was forced to attend DHS. Before I even started school there, I had already made up my mind that I would never become a priest. Yet everyone was so proud of me and the fact that I would attend Divine Heart Seminary!
I worked at Derby Foods, Inc., 3327 W. 47th Place, Chicago, IL 60632, for twelve years. I started working on the midnight shift two days before my eighteenth birthday, but Jessie who hired me told me to tell everyone I was eighteen so the factory wouldn’t get in trouble for violating federal child labor laws. The factory-made Peter Pan Peanut Butter and Derby Tamales. Occasionally, they put the generic “Giant” labels on the Peter Pan Peanut Butter jars that were shipped out east somewhere. Many people laughed when I told them I worked in a peanut butter factory. Now that I think back, it does sound kind of funny. Besides, how many people would admit to working in a peanut butter factory–I mean besides me. I worked there for twelve years in all, but not consecutively. I started on May 7, 1974, and worked continuously, not counting two layoffs, through May of 1978 when I went to Mexico on vacation for a month and didn’t come back to work on time from my vacation. I heard that I got fired, but I didn’t care. My mother was extremely upset because I had the dream job that she had always wanted. She couldn’t get it, so she did everything in her power for me to get it. When I returned from Mexico, I went to the unemployment office and filed a claim because I had heard that I was laid off again. Well, I started receiving unemployment insurance checks which led me to believe that I was laid off and not fired. I never actually talked directly to Jessie or anyone else from Derby Foods to find out what my actual job status was. On August 23, 1978, I enlisted into the United States Marine Corps, mainly because my unemployment benefits would soon end because I would be called back to work and I didn’t want to work at Derby Foods anymore. While I was in the Marines, my mother had talked to Jessie at Derby Foods about me getting my job back–the job I never even wanted in the first place! I soon received a letter from Derby Foods stating that I could have my job back when I was honorably discharged from the Marines. My mother called me up to congratulate me even before I received the letter, which I immediately threw away upon receiving it.
When I returned to Chicago in July of 1981 after being honorably discharged from the Marines, my mother wanted to know what I had done with the letter, so I could take it to Derby Foods and get my old job back. I told her that I couldn’t find it. I really didn’t want to work there anymore, but I didn’t want to go to college at that point in my life either. In September, my life savings from the Marine Corps had been spent in a mere two months. I didn’t have all that much money because I pretty much earned about minimum wage working for Uncle Sam. Well, I had found my own apartment near Marquette Park at 3006 W. 64th Street and I had to pay the rent somehow. My mother was upset that I wouldn’t live with her in her house, but she would go to my new apartment every day to clean, bring me used furniture, and unpack my things. I started working at Derby Foods again in September. As luck would have it, I didn’t lose any of my seniority or benefits while in the Marines because of federal laws. In fact, the fiscal year for the factory started on November 1, so I worked about three weeks and then I had to take a three-week vacation before the fiscal year ended or I would lose all that vacation time. I was kind of glad I went back to Derby Foods. Of course, before I took my vacation time, Jessie asked me if I was going to Mexico again. Everyone was worried that I wouldn’t return. I told them that I planned to stay home and read books for three whole weeks. This worried them even more because no one at Derby Foods ever read any books.
I met all kinds of people at Derby Foods, from different Chicago neighborhoods. When I first started working there, everyone treated me nicely because I was so young. They all told me to finish high school so I wouldn’t have to work there all my life like they did. It was very good advice, but I couldn’t work full-time and go to high school full-time. I told my mother that I wanted to graduate from high school, but I couldn’t study and go to work at the same time. I would get home at 7:30 a.m. from working the midnight shift and then I’d have to go to school. Most days I couldn’t stay awake in school. Eventually, I dropped out of school. But I did get my GED thanks to my first wife who was so embarrassed being married to a high school dropout. I’m glad she made me take the GED test or my life would have turned out so differently. Some of my co-workers at the factory told me they were disappointed that I didn’t graduate.
About 1982, I was laid off again for nine months. Everyone told me I should complain to Derby Foods because a certain Peter was still working and didn’t get laid off even though he had less seniority than me. Whoever made up the list of people to be laid off didn’t include my time in the Marines for my seniority, so it appeared that I had less time on the job than Peter. I actually didn’t mind being laid off for those nine months! I did a lot of reading and writing back then. My mother would call me up every day to tell me to call Derby Foods and tell them that I had more seniority than Peter. I told her that I liked being laid off. That I liked not working and getting paid for it. She just didn’t understand. I worked there until September of 1986 when the factory shifted its operations to Sylvester, Georgia, but didn’t take any employees with them. Like I would have moved to Georgia just to work for Derby Foods! Thus ended my illustrious career as a manual laborer at the peanut butter factory.
When I was little, I wasn’t sure how long I would live. I was a healthy boy, so I’m not sure why I always wondered about my longevity. Of course, being a Catholic, I was always reminded not to commit any mortal sins because if I died suddenly and unexpectedly, I would immediately go to hell.
And now that I think about it, I could die at any moment. I could some day walk out onto Halsted Street and get hit by a bus. I only say this because I was once almost hit by a bus on Halsted Street. In fact, it was just the other day. I was thinking about many things other than paying attention to crossing the street. I’m still not sure why I didn’t see the bus.
When my uncle Joseph “Pepe” Rodriguez died in Viet Nam, I was sure that I would never live to see twenty-one. I was sure I, too, would be drafted and die in Viet Nam. So I always considered all the years beyond twenty-one bonus years.
My mother died when she was fifty-one, and now that I’m fifty-one, eight months old, I have lived longer than her. I have always been an optimist and I realize I’m lucky to have lived to be this old. I actually like having gray hair, particularly because I have a full head of hair. I can still run six miles everyday, when I have time. I’m not rich, but I’m not starving either. Since I didn’t get drafted to go to Viet Nam, I’ve had all these bonus years that I haven’t always used very wisely. However, I realize that I’m lucky to be alive! The way I see it now, all the years that I live beyond fifty-one will be bonus “bonus years.”
There was a time when I wanted to live to be a hundred, mainly because 100 is a nice big round number. Now, I’d rather continue living the happy life that I now have without thinking about how much time I have left. I am ever the optimist!
I’m often amazed at what my sons can talk me into doing for them, but when I really think about it, I’m not really all that surprised. My father used to ask me for suggestions for things to do when he would pick up my brothers and me for visitation. I always suggested things that sounded wild and farfetched to my father, but for some reason he always took us wherever I suggested. I once suggested going camping even though I never thought my father would take us. But he did! And now, because of that, I take my sons wherever they want to go. In such instances, I realize once again that I’ve become my father.
Once my oldest son suggested that I take them to Skatopia for our summer vacation. Of course, I had never heard of Skatopia. Have you? Besides, it sounds like a made up name anyway. Well, I partly planted the idea of Skatopia in them when I bought them the Tony Hawk video game as a Christmas present. There’s a little film clip of Skatopia in the video game. They showed me the clip, but I said that didn’t mean Skatopia existed. I wanted to know where Skatopia was geographically, but they didn’t know.
Later, they told me they saw Skatopia on the cable TV show Viva La Bam starring none other than Bam Margera. My sons are really into skateboarding and they have all kinds of skateboards so I’ve taken them to several skateboard parks in Colorado, Arizona, and Illinois. However, they don’t actually skateboard once we get there. They are too intimidated by all the good skateboarders.
Anyway, they asked me again to take to Skatopia when school was over. I still didn’t believe such a place even existed, so I said to them, “Okay, find their website and then I’ll believe you!” I was sure they wouldn’t have a website. That’s the funny thing about me, though. I really don’t believe that anything exists unless it has a website. I was really surprised when my sons called me over to the computer and yelled in unison, “See! There’s a Skatopia!” Okay, where is it? It was in this little town named Rutland in the southeast corner of rural Ohio.
Well, when I go on vacation with my sons, I don’t just go to one place. I try to cram in as many sites and activities as possible. So the plan was that we would go to Cedar Point in Sandusky, Ohio, first. Cedar Point is famous for all of its roller coasters. I remember going there years before with my friend Jim Harmon.
For some strange reason, I can no longer ride on amusement park rides without getting nauseous. However, I can ride roller coasters all day long and not get sick. Perhaps because the roller coaster ride resembles my driving. Anyway, since we were in Ohio, I told them I wanted to go to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, even if they didn’t like idea. That visit was for me. After all, wasn’t I taking them to Skatopia? But once we got there and they saw all the musical exhibits, they loved the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And as long as we were in Cleveland we went to a Cleveland Indians baseball game who just happened to be in town for our visit. For some fortunate reason, whenever I’m on vacation I’m extremely lucky with timing. We also went to the children’s museum there before heading out to Skatopia in Rutland.
As I was driving south in Ohio, I saw signs for a the Football Hall of Fame in Canton. This was so fortunate! But, alas, my sons were too tired to go to another museum and soon fell asleep.
I’m not sure what I was expecting when I got to Rutland, but there were no signs for Skatopia. I stopped at a pizza parlor to ask if anyone knew where Skatopia was. Yes, they did! And they gave me directions, but it was already dark and I had to drive on a gravel road for miles before I got there. Just when I was finally beginning to believe that Skatopia actually existed, the road ended and there was nothing but trees in front of me. I thought for sure that we would all die victims to the hatchet murderer you always hear about in Chicago. Suddenly, I wished I was back home in Chicago where I know how to deal with muggers and drive-by shootings.
As I was driving around, I saw a man walking in the dark. He looked kind of dirty and he was drinking beer out of a bottle. He also had the remainder of the twelve-pack in a brown paper bag under his arm. I asked him if he knew where Skatopia was and he said that’s exactly where he was going. I don’t know what possessed me at that precise moment, but I told him we were going there, too, and I offered him a ride. I’m so used to doing these types of things when I’m by myself, but this was the first time I ever did anything like this with my sons. Needless to say, we all arrived safely at Skatopia.
Everyone there greeted us cheerfully even though it was already 11:00 p.m. They showed us around even though it was too dark to see very much. I really liked the skateboard museum they had. This museum consisted of skateboards from every era since their invention to the present day. They were hanging on the walls, from the ceiling, stacked up in the corner. There were skateboards everywhere! I even saw a skateboard like the one I had in the 1960s! Skatopia was a very appropriate name for this museum and the rest of the place. Whenever they traveled, they bought whatever skateboards they saw at yard sales and antique shops. I was truly impressed.
It was late and we were all tired, so they offered to let us stay on their land for the night. Unfortunately, we didn’t have tents and sleeping bags, so we went to a nearby motel. We returned the next day and spent most of the day there. They taught my sons some tricks on the skateboard. Yes, I actually saw my sons skateboarding! Even I tried skateboarding. But I kept falling down. Then I remembered why I stopped skateboarding as a kid.
I was amazed by how many people stopped by because their kids wanted to see Skatopia. We got to seethe half-pipe where Bam Margera filmed his show. They were so happy that we had visited them that they sold us the very same skateboard that Bam Margera used for the video for a mere $60. All in all, we all had fun and still recall that summer vacation fondly.
Chicago USA 