Loon's jealousy of Sue

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Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby Willow03 » Wed Oct 04, 2017 3:56 am

I believe Loon's jealousy of Sue instigated this crime. She was jealous of the attention a hot single women was getting from the men. She then proceeded to play both sides of the fence with her and Marty. She was telling Sue"poor me, I'm abused." Sue coming from an abusive relationship could relate. She was telling Marty, "She said Ineed to leave you." Which made him hate her. She did want rid of him. If she could convince him to kill her, he would be gone and so would her competion. Bo was sadistic and was along for the ride, which made for a perfect storm. John and Dana as well as Tina were in the wrong place, wrong time.
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby dmac » Wed Oct 04, 2017 6:16 am

Sue was not perfect. How long will it take reality to fix that?
We treat her like shit because...
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby Willow03 » Wed Oct 04, 2017 6:23 am

A sick way they justified the crime and covered it up.
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby Willow03 » Fri Oct 06, 2017 11:52 pm

Dmac,

Of course Sue was not perfect, as no human being is. She did the best with what she had. I have read a lot of the contents on this site including her purse contents and the up keep of her home of FIVE kids. I have also read your post about what a POS mom she was...My question to you is why do you pass such judgment? Do you have five kids??? Your belittling nastiness won't phase me....I have tough skin... Honestly, not being facetious...you have indicated she was a shitty mum, at best, can you explain how? How many kids do you have?
Your name calling, if you must....totally shows your ignorance....
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby dmac » Sat Oct 07, 2017 6:04 am

    "Sue was not perfect. How long will it take reality to fix that?
    We treat her like shit because..."
To live in a dreamworld where 'Sue Did the Very Best She Could' is both ugly and patently false. Look at FACTS as to HOW/WHY FOUR INNOCENTS WERE SLAUGHTERED.

The victims need to be researched as meticulously as the killers. Others involved in the killings will be exposed- not by shit we've already done but showing these cunt cops hid it back then.

If that's not a takeaway, I'll have to kill a lot of blind people on the forum.

I know : Sue was abused by the hubby. Some kids were raped by James Sharp. Wow, Sue always chose to go back to him, multiple times, whenever offered Yet, at the time of the murders, she had the big car, the house, the Navy stipend and the CETA funds, plus food stamps and whatever else. Financially solvent? Far better than 26! (literally a joke, but financial envy is a definite YES! for motives in most murders)

Why the FUCK do you think Dee was helping Marty to get PTSD funds? WTF would Marty do a self-abuse check-in to the Loony Bin of Reno if it wasn't Dee's 'psych Ward Advice"

SUE'S social actions say she was selfish and willfully ignorant to the needs of her kids. Her pattern was indifference, which is extremely crippling. It's a cycle she's most often to repeat, while all the other 'kidults' are tasked to be perfect kids while fending for themselves.

As neighbors said, Sue was indifferent, distant, and the kids "out of control" Isn't that also Uncle Don's exact quote about Johnny in the Shaver report?!

So few documents ring true. Even the sex abuse documents from July 80 show PCSO didn't know WTF PCSO were doing and, most importantly, PCSO didn't give a single fuck about the safety of MANY kids from an obvious sexual predator. Well, it was years before Sheriff Shanks stepped aside for his YEARS OF RAPING CHILDREN.

I do remember PCSO called the victims bad names a couple times. Really bad, considering PCSO were belittling the victims while giving the perp blow jobs. WELL DONE, 1980 PCSO of SYLVESTER DOUG THOMAS AND CHILD RAPIST SHANKS AND CHILD KILLER-LOVERS DON STOY/ROD DECRONA. But Don't look at PCSO, as Sue is the ONLY Real piece of shit you'll see in this post:

What is stellar is the minutiae in this one document: 1980, not 81; a different case; a different world from mass murder, yet where the PCSO verdict is the SAME: Play Dead. The molestation of Tina by a neighbor in 1980, and our big takeaway is, BEFORE PCSO SNUFFED IT, Sue didn't give the slightest fuck in the first place.

SUE DIDN'T GIVE A FUCK about keeping Tina safe BEFORE OR AFTER the July 1980 hit.

In the last couple weeks of her life, Sue spent an exceptional amount of time abandoning her kids into the wee hours, off partying, knocking boots with her new bf. And he was such a win that when, a couple weeks after the murders, someone at another bar asked THAT SAME ASSHOLE, Dareyl, where Sue was, his soft-hearted reply was, "Don't you read the papers? She was murdered."

    "Sue was not perfect. How long will it take reality to fix that?
    We treat her like shit because..."

Despite your opinions, facts PROVE Sue was a shitty mom, and her actions led to all of those in 28 being deemed HIGH RISK by LE experts. Not the frauds, but true LE experts.

SUE WAS A SHIT MOM. Anyone countering that has a bad memory or is intentionally lying.

We on this forum ARE NOT treating Sue poorly. We have to look at what was going on to figure out what went down.

If you want to waste time defending Sue, well, you're getting no help from me. I respect her as a woman and person in a time similar to mine when she was fending for her kids, yet my fgamily did it a decade fucking before in Nam. My dad was gone for years actually fighting a war. A real fucking war, gone 67-72. Not Dee or Marty or Bo or those faggots. Well, Sue's hubby was one of those faggots: No war, a job he'd bored with, and fucking Sue isn't good so he goes down the chain to Sheila and Tina.

YOU FUCKING TELL ME. I know alot about the Sharp marriage even Sheila hasn't thought out. As with the killers, Sue's hubby, James, did all these truelly horrific war crimes within his family's four walls: No PTSD, James never saw one hour of combat. Like Marty, Dee, Bo, etc.

WHERE IS ALL THAT PTSD LIE BULLSHIT BEHAVIOR FROM? These MAGGOTS AND FAGGOTS are liars and cheats, and not once anything resembling a Man.

Sue fucked LOSERS.

Sue didn't due her best, she was a shit mom, and I don't need some stupid fuck telling me something was WRONG with the Vegas autofire pussy to know something was wrong with Marty, Bo, Loon, Dee, Tony... and Sue. Something was WRONG with Sue. Wake up and smell that coffee or piss off, because caffeine makes you pee more often.
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby dmac » Sat Oct 07, 2017 7:26 am

I love your nickname, as WILLOW is one of my most favorite songs, an earliest song discovery I made entirely on my own. I hold onto and cherish. Every time you've posted, I've thought of posting the song itself. That's how much I love the song.

It's probably not an easy song for most to hear, understand, or like. Nor is it by any artist you stand a chance of knowing. I've chosen to play a live version of 'Willow', too, right here.This live version gives the song presence, reality.

She and the band play quite restrained, delicately, not to break the volume barrier that is so important: quiet but JOAN IS PRIMARY.

I'll paste all the fantastic lyrics. They indicate strength and flexibility to me, as in the analogy of the tree bending rather than breaking. But this is a willow talking, not a fucking pine. A bit deeper than you perceived.



"Willow"

I may not be your best
You know good ones don't come by the score
You've got something missing
I'll help you look you can be sure
And if you want to be alone
Or someone to share a laugh
Whatever you want me to
All you gotta do is ask

Thunder
Don't go under the sheets
Lightning under a tree
In the rain and snow
I'll be your fire side
Come running to me
When things get out of hand
Running to me
When it's more than you can stand

I said I'm strong
Straight
Willing
To be a
Shelter
In a storm
Your willow
Oh willow
When the sun is out

A fight with your best girl
Prettiest thing you ever saw
You know I'll listen
Try to get a message to her
And if it's money you want
Or trouble halved
Whatever you want me to
All you gotta do is ask

I said I'm strong
Straight
Willing
To be a
Shelter
In a storm
Your willow
Oh willow
When the sun is out

Shelter in a storm
Your willow
Oh willow
When the sun is out

Her name is Joan Armatrading,
"Back off, man. I'm a scientist."
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby dmac » Sun Oct 08, 2017 8:31 am

Considering we have time-unfriendly perspective on Sue and Justin, it begs us to standardize or dismiss how we look at key figures based solely on their conduct through the decades.

Chiefly, it either applies to Rick and others or it doesn't. Not Greg, as he was five and we have no clue of what he saw or did that night, other than telling Crim he was awakened.

As an explanation:

Sue, we're not damning her. For all we know, she had mental/physical/sex abuse & PTSD from he childhood. We're not condemning her or calling her a killer, just telling the TRUTH by stating she was a PoS mom. Not just a struggling mom, but a PoS mom. Because that's the exact damned term deserved in this case, where she didn't give a fuck, and where she and two of her kids were slaughtered alongside a family friend because all of them were High Risk. Sue, Johnny, and most obviously TINA were ALL high risk due to Sue's behavior. Fucking her kids over by fucking Dareyl is NOT free sex or a double standard. It's not being a slut.

Front and center, it's being an absolute Piece of Shit parent who chooses her own WANTS over her kids' NEEDS.

Justin. he's targeted because he went from child victim of abuse to adult victim of abuse wanting to both protect Murdering Mommy and make moo-la from his DIRECT INVOLVEMENT IN THE MURDERS. Stockholm Syndrome? All I see is familial sociopathy.

Rick. We don't know why he's not talking. To our knowledge the closest he came was in the Walk-Thru vids, where he was squelched by Sheila. We can say PTSD, Sheila corked his mouth, guilt from being forced to participate or for not doing more to fight, his knowing what happened and simply not wanting LE (or us, for that matter) to destrou the life and sense of peace he finally found.

Sheila. Again, like Justin, I see silence due to payoffs she gets through media involvement and her 'book'. That's money and attention, whereas Justin wanted mainly money. For Sheila, attention has always been a key. She silences her brothers "to protect them"? Naw, I'm not biting. The Walk-Through vids tell a distinctly different story: SHUT UP RICK, only MY "truth" matters.

Yeah, lots of shit going on with Sheila, which is why I accidentally outed her as a longtime serial liar years ago, leading to her public fuckup of going against me and the confirmed truth. She continues to lie and belittle anyone who doesn't toe her line of lies.

Who else belongs in this list? Many Meeks, as Richard and Nina and Nina and others already publicly popped the pooch pubicly .
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby budrfligh » Sun Oct 08, 2017 12:10 pm

People in my true crime circles abhor vuctim bashing. I however look to how the victim became high risk or involuntarily culpable in their own murder. Usually this leads to understanding how they became a victim. Sue was fucked up, probably a product of childhood trauma and I know about chains of familial abuse. To say she did the best she could kinda offends me. I was severely abused as a kid but fiercely protected my own from the same all the while single, raising 3 kids, going to college and working. Probably a miracle but I refused to be a mere survivor of abuse so I transended. My kids were my life and here we see an absentee mom, kids who were running amok, being systematically abused by hr husband and if we are honest Richard was a bit old to be screwing Sheila. Generational abuse through ignorance or avoidance is still abuse. Did she deserve her demise absolutely not, but the kids deserved it even less. They were just kids.

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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby dmac » Sun Oct 08, 2017 8:26 pm

What tears me apart is I had to start ripping the victims' lives apart. I was a staunch, line-toeing jack-ass for a couple years, "Sue was Mom Of The Year material", "Sheila is Brilliant", yada yada. Not only was it a blindfolded walk down the plank to hell when I was trying to make my involvement relevant to TRUTH, but by outing all the skeletons in their closets, it has not offered REAL KEYS as to WHY.

In effect, we all hoped a closer look at Sue would give MOTIVE. Fuck no! Everyone begging for plausible motive is confused and angry because there is none. Which is marked in time by my earliest statements that anyone wanting one motive from multiple fucked up assholes is themselves blind or stupid: hoping to understand the multiple motives of multiple sociopaths is not work for the sane. John Douglas, of course, is a perfect error in that statement.

I've been bitching about the Loonibi for years. From Day One, I tried to make sense of the logistics within Plumas, Quincy, Keddie. Where every goddamned thing was in Keddie, in 28. The crime scene was supposed to unravel a story, and the only tale it tells nobody wants to hear: Multiple killers, multiple motives, the staging more frenzied than the killing.

People want one-sentence answers. Those are in short supply with this case. PERIOD. They wanted a clean crime scene where every angle and move is mapped out. I myself expected a simpler answer. But the crime scene screams MULTIPLE KILLERS WITH DIFFERING MOTIVES AND DISTINCTLY DIFFERENT IDEAS AS TO STAGING. Example: to this day, most of what Marty confessed to Crimely rings true: Go in, kill them, get the fuck out. None of this hanging around for hours to mutilate and stage. Yet the posing of Sue is the most accurate and complex, and was the unintended masterpiece of the entire staging... had Sue not been shifted and Tina not made a missing piece of the puzzle.

Sue was done mainly by one person. That's how and why her staging is also so fucking true to the fact there is little confusion, or the signs of schizo staging with Tina, Johnny, Dana: One person had the most aggression to her. One person did the majority of damage to Sue while alive. One person took a knife not found at the crime scenes and threatened a dying Sue with a long slice under her right breast, then plunged that knife horizontally between her ribs, thrusting it through her lung and into her spine. That was an EXECUTION.

Sue was then staged by the same person. The most complex staging in the entire scene, and also the most symbolic. One mind, one (albeit still confused) statement. The person that put her exposed groin in Dana's face is also the one involved from the start: the same asshole who cut the panties from her to shove as the FIRST LAYER of a very complex gag. The weirdest gag in all history, until you unravel the layers and meanings. It was a gag, of course, but it was all about sex and silence. Two female garments in the layers, one of them cut directly from her as a clear statement of intent she couldn't yet understand: The gag was meant to keep her screams a muffled blitz as the killers went about slaughtering and and staging the rest.

Sue was the last to die, forced to witness the tortured deaths of her loved ones. Sue was GAGGED by her main abuser and killer. Sue's staging was committed by that same person.

Sue's original staging, before Justin (and Rick?) moved and covered her, made her execution the only clear and relevant target at the crime scene. And I mean TARGET: J, D, even Tina were collateral damage. Sue was the target. Marty was the perp.

While admitting he was pissed Bo wanted to spend time fucking up the crime scene, Marty confessed to killing "the girls" and confessed his anger towards Sue. He only showed emotion when discussing Tina, indicating he regretted "having to do it" to "leave no witnesses".

Sure, plenty room to rip this assessment to pieces, but that's only if you ignore the core truths at play.

Back to the Main Topic: By ripping the personal lives of victims apart, we didn't find a road map to answers. It was a huge puzzle of tiny pieces that aren't made to fit together, just some bits do. We hoped to find "The Golden Answer", and were simply angry when the pursuit proved fruitless.

But we found many things that have explained multiple aspects of what 28 was like, how the family was simply not One. We have a far better idea of what was going on, which led to understanding some motives and actions, as well as identifying neighbors, 'friends' and others as criminally INVOLVED in this mass slaughter.

By looking at Sue's life and Sheila's lies, we've exposed many POIs. So anyone claiming we're on some victim bashing tour needs to bite me. And Budr, since she clearly gets it.
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby dmac » Sun Oct 08, 2017 11:45 pm

One more thing, Willow. I had an instant family, stepdad to kids I loved and raised as my own. AS MY OWN. I did everything for THEM, to make their lives better. I read to them, played with them, worked and bled JUST FOR THEM. I did all I could to make their childhoods great and make their familial relationships about love, understanding, acceptance, appreciation, and selflessness. I did all I could to see my parents' patterns as what to completely undo in my own behavior as a dad.

I not only did not drink in front of my kids, I stopped drinking altogether. I was still myself, very more myself as a kid, because my being a dad was the choice of being an adult who fought for his kids to have a great ride. And I was a kid at heart to make that meaningful.

Just yesterday I recounted to a friend about a crappy, rusted Radio Flyer I found at a thrift store and bought for my youngest son. It was July. Over the months, I took it apart, sanded it down, repainted it, reassembled it to as close to new as possible, and Santa gave a "new" Radio Flyer to him that xmas. Lemme tell you, other kids didn't have wagons under their trees that xmas. Like kids now, he wanted video games, rc cars, electronics. I knew he'd get why wagons are cool, and he did. He'd play with it with his friends, pushing/riding. Same old shit I did as a kid and as generations before had. He'd load that wagon up with everything possible when he was going to a sleepover. Want your kids to go outside and play? Fresh air, camaraderie? Give them a manually-operated outdoor toy that is also a tool they find endless ways to employ: RADIO FLYER!

He also got what he wanted most: an RC car. He cried with joy. He broke the antenna within hours, then tried to hide it by using Elmer's glue to reattach the broken metal. The glue gummed up the wiring of the remote, as it broke at the stem, and he cried like mad when I found out his lie. "why aren't you playing with your car?" All I did was tell him it couldn't work any more, and I would take the then-useless toy away from him for a spell simply because he'd lied to me. "It was a simple mistake, not really even your fault. But you immediately hid it and lied to me about it, when you should always feel free to talk things out with me." He cried some more, and it was a very Andy Griffith moment when, a couple weeks later, we went surprise-shopping for a new antenna, and he watched me repair the remote. I took the $8.98 plus tax for the new antenna out of his allowance, the installment plan.

Many stories involve him, but that's simply because he was the youngest and having the hardest time dealing with missing his dad, who'd promise shit and never follow through. We'd drive by the skating rink, and he'd have to say, "I have fifty dollars. My dad's taking me there for my birthday" It wasn't coming, and I knew how crushing it was, so I made the only cake I've EVER baked, and only for his party. Three layer, massive homemade choc I icing, candles on top. I'm a fantastic cook but baking is a different skill set!

I set it up so the entire family and about 5 or 6 friends could have a party. Balloons, the cake, food, skating, passes to play all the coin games. I did it for him under the ruse his dad made it happen yet couldn't make it (we'd invited him, he didn't come). His shitfuck dad was credited for me saving his worthless face. The only credit I got was from my eldest son and wife, who had to be made aware of the complex scheme for it to work. And, boy! Did it ever work! I had a blast watching him have a blast!

One time my youngest was late coming home from school. It was a routine he'd missed, and at dusk, when he finally came home, we'd already been searching, ready to call police. Instead of going apeshit, we barked a few obvious "Where Have You Been" lines and sent him to his room. Later, my wife and I talked to him alone, and I was the only one talking. I asked him how much he knows I love him. I asked him how much he thought I could worry about him when he didn't come home. I asked him how much pain it brought to wonder if he was simply safe. We were both crying long before I finished by hugging and forgiving him. Later, my wife cried, telling me how beautiful it was. Later still, she said I should be a teacher based on my love of kids and my love of communicating with them in simple but empowering ways.

I used to tell the kids made-up stories off the top of my head. It began by riffing off of Dr Seuss, turning the rhymes into off-color jokes only the older kids and mommy got. Kinda like Batman or Bullwinkle, the stories took on several depths with adult overtones. They'd listen and laugh from the other rooms. Seriously. As time went by, I'd buy a new book but spend more time making up my own stories. It'd be bedtime, and I'd ask what they wanted me to read. About a third of the time, it was improv. They'd beg me to make up a story based on a few points. "Queen" "Dragon" "lifeboat" "Carotid Artery injury by a physical therapist" Other times, I'd just play guitar for them. Beatles "Yellow Submarine", revamped as a slow, droning march, was a huge fave. They'd complain about how I redid a few riffs, and I'd revamp it.

I used to record their voices as, when I was a kid, we had many electronics brought back from Viet Nam and Germany BX. My mom would record us doing stuff on the fly or directly into the mic as "living letters", which she would send to my dad in Nam. Not ALL they did was bad, and so many good points may outweigh the bad, but being a good parent is loving unconditionally and supporting a child in their skills AND WEAKNESSES. You don't force a kid into the military, just as you don't force them to be a serial killer to reduce the national debt. The first behavior of forcing a kid into a future they don't want leads to their own living hell, which should be mutual.

Anyway, I recorded their voices. And did a buttload of video. One of my sons was having sleeping problems, and we sat next to him as he talked in his sleep. I was recording. And he was reacting to me, so I kinda broke in on his monologue. A couple years earlier, as a toddler, I was taking him to Goofy Golf and taught him about music on the radio. "Smoke On the Water" was on, and I told him the meaning of the lyrics, how it was written about a gig the band played opening for Zappa's Mothers of Invention. How the venue caught on fire and how they fled and how the place was right on the river, hence the title.

In the middle of his dreaming, I asked if he recalled a partial lyric. I recited a line. He remembered part of it, and I asked, "what happened next?" He finished the line.perfectly: "burned the place. To the ground." We immediately left, went back to our room, and laughed our guts out. It was MAGIC. I played the tape for all of us to hear a few months later, when we were all gathered on and around the bed to watch a dvd we'd all decided on. Yeah, way back then. Blockbuster / Hollywood Video rentals.

The audio tape, used in place of the pre-feature cartoon, was a big hit. My son was momentarily convinced it was a lie. But, as it played out, he realized it was truly him reciting, while asleep, a lyric I'd explained to him a couple years before. Instead of thinking he was the butt of a joke (often his reaction), he was laughing and proud. Rightfully so.

Damn, we loved that bed. We'd curl up to watch movies, only the eldest not in the bed. Disney's Sunday Night World of Color no longer existed on Living Color NBC, so we made our own. Whenever we could, Sundays were dedicated time from 5 on. We'd do dinner, then make and bag fresh popcorn, then curl up in the bed to watch family fare. One of the absolute best is 'Merlin' with Sam Neill.

I'd also often us the "30 Minute Rule" to put the youngest two on either side and read them a story right after school. Man, so many times we just nodded off together. First I saw one, then the other, than I just nodded off, too. A favorite book was Hughes' IRON MAN. Holy crap, we saw massive changes when the movie came out, but we also immediately loved the film version.

Hell, that bed! it was a torture device. About 200 years old, all springs and odd shapes. I got a bonus and $1000 in commissions one week, and had a new bed installed while my wife was at work. I Consumer Reported the topic to death to find the right mattress! Then I bought brand new bedding, and for Christmas bought a heated blanket with independent remotes on both sides. My ex may be a sociopath, but she knew good stuff when she saw it.

I am good stuff. Just short on confidence and long in poor choices.

My kids would come home from school and, when I was working from home, I'd have them eat a quick meal/snack I'd prepared. Sometimes it was a simple peanut butter and banana sandwich. Usually it was more intense, like toasted sandwiches with soup or small full meals. Voracious appetites, they had good breakfasts at home, lunches at school, always something when they got home from school. Then dinner, then a dessert about an hour later.

One morning, we were having a friend over for breakfast. She'd shown up early to walk to school with my daughter, so I insisted she eat breakfast with us. As I took off her coat (it was winter), I noted how old and dirty it was. I'd already bought a new coat for my daughter to give at xmas, but I was in a quandary. How could I give her friend that coat right then without anyone noticing? BREAKFAST! I used our dog as the ruse. I acted like I was giving our dog breakfast and water, and intentionally knocked the old coat off the peg and into dog dish. I said, "well, you're not wearing a wet coat to school!" Then came back after "searching" for the coat I'd bought for my daughter. "Wear this, I'll toss your coat into the wash today."

She asked about the coat a few days later, and I said, "aw, it got stained in the wash. Just keep the coat I loaned ya". Nobody saw the transaction. I got away scot-free. I didn't even buy my daughter a replacement xmas coat, because she never needed.

My kids came home from elementary and middle schools, eat, then the '30 Minutes' rule kicked in: take a nap, read, draw, look at pictures. No electronics, no talking. Just silence and "alone time". They loved it once they accepted the idea I'd picked up from my own terrible mom. She was a monster with some very good merits: She realized kids could be out of their minds, frenzied, when they got home from school. "Quiet Time" got them in a routine to think independently, for themselves, how they wanted to be.

Once, I caught my youngest reading to himself a book I'd bought and read to him. My wife and I traveled to Vegas and I invariably ended up finding kids books at cut-rate prices! I knew right off the book would be a hit with kids of all ages, and I have the video of him teaching himself to read that very book I bought for $1.99 in a Vegas mall

He knew the story by heart, by how I'd read it and made up voices for all the different characters. And the wonderful pictures! He'd read some, then forget stuff, then remember it by looking at the pictures and knowing all the voices I'd invented. Then he'd look back at the words he'd flubbed and see... Discovery of his own logic and confidence, by himself and for himself, but all he thought he was doing was reading a book he'd been read 50 times.

Just a couple years back I got a massive response for explaining to the author of that one book how incredible his craft is, and how it forever improved the course of my son's entire life. Just one small book? BULLSHIT!!

I hold good teachers to high esteem, HEROES. I hold anyone that builds bonds and bridges to knowledge and, most importantly, self esteem, to be not just parents but heroes.

No sports star. No Hwood star. No, a true hero is the one doing the Real Deal every day, and often on their dime! do what you feel, and the main influence on how/what you react to is your own parents. FACT.

A major hobby I have is researching materials meant for kids. Books, mainly, then TV came in. I saw the very first episode of Sesame Street as a kindergartner, when they told us to sit quietly as they wheeled in this huge metallic stand with a massive TV on top. They spent several minutes moving wires around, got the TV working, then played the Sesame Street pilot. I was floored right from the start. Puppets talking only to kids? SOLD! Wonderful writers, actors? SOLD! Grover? Ernie? Big Bird? countered by OSCAR? SCOLD!

Years later, I saw the Sesame Street pilot again, and I'd had no idea it was filmed. And in color. Oscar was baby-shit orange instead of green.

As an adult, I often read up and watch what passes as current KIDS MEDIA. It's never been lower standards, or more violent. Our kids are being mindwarped by almost every part of their environment. Dangerous? No. DEPLORABLE.

I take media very seriously, even if I blow more farts than facts here. Yet, even if I fuck up, I keep this site about facts and recognizing fault.

When I witnessed my son struggling to read, even aping behaviors to push himself forward, I knew it was the result of the 30 Minute Rule and, most importantly, his own desire to learn. I was so damned proud of him, anew, just for his lust to learn. I then spent more time reading with him. We'd read to each other, starting by swapping sentences then paragraphs. I'd read one, he'd read the next- with help.

I'd find screwball books I recalled from my childhood, Slobodnik's "The Space Ship and the Apple Tree". Stuff nobody seemed to know in my youth. As a kid, I liked titles and interesting drawings- the more idiosyncratic the better. OFF THE MAP stuff. But I also adored Beverly Cleary. Wow, she is the whole package. And the prize-winner about the girl that runs away from her school bus with her younger brother to live at NYC's Metro Museum of Modern History. "From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler". That is a perfect book for any kid, whereas "My Side of the Mountain" could make 75% shit their pants from homesickness.

Stunning stuff I remember from my own childhood, I shared it with all my kids. But when he went from a piss-poor reader (we were called to a parent-teacher where he was deemed disabled, and I said "Aw, fuck THAT! You don't know my kid. I know this school is understaffed and overrated, but you simply have no clue about my son's intelligence!" Man, my reply was obvious and clear, but not as angry as it sounds. I muttered "aw fuck that!" then got to normal speaking volume when saying she had no clue who my son was, inferring she never tried.

OK, I'll rewrite how the last paragraph was intended:

But when my youngest went from a piss-poor reader to clearly trying to learn on his own, I just revisited my history and employed new skills to make his interest in reading more emphatic. I wouldn't belittle him. As a child I had a lisp. Lemme think of what it was. They sent me to a special class to overcome the lisp. It was R. I pronounced them as "aw". So I sounded, at 4, what I hoped to reclaim at 16: Cockney! Anyway, the whole thing was so insulting and unnecessary. The ethic seemed to be "From Shame to Fame", but all they ever did to us 20-odd kids in that "class" was shame us, then give us a rubber toy from a cereal box when we started to pronounce things better. Man, it was brutal. I think a common person could go in, with no training, and get better results.

My son went from a Parent/Teacher conference re: his poor reading/comprehension to 'MOST IMPROVED' award-winner to monologist in a school play. He memorized a stretch of important dialogue! He and I went from Suess to Twain in two years. We'd trade off on reading complete chapters, and I forewarned him Twain was filled with old meanings and wordplay that challenged me when I first read Tom Sawyer. I'd start a difficult passage and ask if he had questions. He asked a couple things but figured out the Big Picture on his own. When he read on his own, he'd trip over pronunciation but never meaning. He was figuring out MAJOR shit I didn't know at his age. I was years :? ahead of my class throughout most of my schooling, yet he was properly comprehending core, difficult concepts from what Twain really meant years before I'd even read Tom Sawyer. Again, I was shining and warm with pride of my kids.

That son was always intelligent, but just wasn't given the attention needed for him to initially connect to modern schooling, and we were never informed at meetings we'd made. From "great kid, he loves dinosaurs" to "your son is mentally disabled, cannot read, ignores simple verbal commands" Of course, I'm exaggerating, but that's how it was when they laid this pile of bile on my lap.
This kid was born with a sense of discovery as his main code. Not like others, not like me. I was born smart but also always distant from the pack. I don't join, period.

Back to my son. I was scary-proud of his intelligence about his comprehending all the allusions and complex self-deprication in Tom Sawyer (Tom's eventual understanding of the massive trauma caused by racism, bigotry, intolerance- things Tom himself didn't fully understand until he had direct experience and real-time education.)

Tom Sawyer was no coward, a worthless punk who grows miles and centuries beyond the sheepish beliefs of his just-lost childhood. Twain makes manhood. adulthood, more about intelligent perception than brutality or sperm count.

One of my kids was fierce about football- real football, known to American cunts as soccer. I'd show him some tips, and he'd floor me by showing how little I knew. All he really wanted was to "play catch with dad", not have dad teach him how to kick. I'm so glad he taught me that so early, as when others dropped hints about doing things together, I realized it was most often an invitation to have One-on-One time or even Family Time. Not "Dad Talks" time but "Dad Shuts up and Plays and Listens to ME" time. Kids know how to drop hints, but parents are usually too busy to see the simple signals kids send. They use simple subterfuge, like, "Hey DAD! Wanna play ball?" True message: they want time with YOU.

When I was a kid, I made a pact with my brother and friends (we had a fort) that we would never forget what it was like to be a kid, and how much it hurt when a parent lied. Trust me, a half-promise is a lie, just as a clearly broken promise is a felonious deceit. It's a false trust, complicating the wound by a lack respect. It's poisonous. I may not remember the other kids' names but I know the ethical basis of the pact, and I did everything I could as a parent to enforce it.

I never let my kids down, even when I had to i did NOT break my childhood Rules of Respect.

Therefore, I didn't make false commitments. When I took them for shots, I promised them it might hurt a little but the fear was worse than the challenge, and I promised I'd be right there, holding their hand as tight as they needed. Again, my elder kids tramped up flights of stairs to be with me and the youngest, as he was the most afraid. They all got their shots, but his eyes were wet, and he didn't cry and never clamped on my hand other than to be together. We ran down those same steps, all praising the youngest for his bravery.

Lies give false expectations, even a false security. Truths are often a bitch to pull off to kids, but rarely leave the kids disillusioned, poisoned against parents or the shitty world in general. It's often harder to tell a truth to kids, as inventing a thin lie is sooooo damned easy. That's the lessen so few parents get.

Another story from my history as a GREAT DAD: We'd go camping. My wife despised the outdoors, cooking, yet went along most times. Often, the kids and I would go without her. I had all the gear ready to go in 20 minutes, other than buying fresh food for the coolers. The kids went right to the nuts and bolts of understanding TRUE camping, where you go in and take out everything. Not a real campground with toilets and cookie-cutter roads and tarmac slabs for the tv-decked RV. No, we went CAMPING . NAKED TRUE CAMPING.

The only mark one should leave is no mark. You go with everything you need and leave as little indication you were there as possible. Enjoy the outdoors but don't leave any signs of your human activity behind.

My kids loved camping, they immediately took to it, to how to learn to be self-sufficient, confident, where survival is handed off by elder to younger in silent gesture.

I'd found a cool campspot in the middle of nowhere, took the kids there often. They liked sleeping on their own, alone in the tent, so I'd sleep in the truck bed. They had all the gear, I'd taught them how to light and kill the dangerous stuff- white fuel and gas. I'd fall asleep to and wake up to their mindblowing banter. Kids say a lot of cool things when "alone in the wilderness" when nobody but the wind can hear.

One of the most important ways for a family to bond is to leave some alone to take care of themselves and fall asleep while bonding with each other. Kids say a lot of cool shit when falling asleep in a campout or sleepover. Alot of it is sharing their dreams of how life will turn out, what they hope to achieve. I've been on both sides, speaking my dreams and listening to the dreams of my kids. With respect to all.

This one camping spot has a small stream. The creek by Keddie is a fluctuating RIVER, not a stream or creek. Anyway, about a quarter mile upstream from our tiny spit was a waterfall. The kids never properly bathed, as their job was to get dirty while camping, and come out of the Sunday Night bathtub still smelling of a campfire. But the wife and I would take bio-soap and freak out under that waterfall. It was so damned cold, so ugly damned cold. When I say "freak out", I don't know a 15 year old dick able to stay rigid in those conditions. By "freaky" I mean we had fun dancing and playing and jumping around while eventually using soap to clean ourselves. Your imagination is, once again, limited by not understanding how cold that water really was.

We'd take a mile hike up a trail from camp to the reservoir. Boaters, all kinds of campgrounds and traffic. We'd meet people, the kids had friends to play with, but that night, back at the campfire with marshmallows on freshly-whittled sticks, the kids would talk about how cool it was to just be alone. Three kids, two tents, the eldest put in charge of keeping the tents upright and safe. He grew to enjoy that role, and when he once rebelled I asked him why his younger siblings could ever not need him.

He later told me that one experience taught him what family means. All adolescents reach the point where they resent their own parents,family, friends, even duties they know make things work for the very people they both love and resent. Adolescence is ugly, and being obvious about how poorly you dealt with it goes a long way to your own kid getting through safely. The rule is to be strong and stoic, but that's a lie. When you don't share your own childhood with your child, you create a divide.

My oldest took to me first, when I was just beginning to date his mom. I wasn't reluctant or distant, just kinda confused and uncertain, never having a relationship that was serious enough to take ALL of it as one. Hell, I never had a serious relationship in LA, and that was several years of fucking around with worthless jobs and very few nice people. LA was very isolating and ugly, which is why ultimately I left. Just a couple years later, I took on an Instant Family and prevailed as a better parent than I'd ever seen by example.

My eldest took to me when I was young enough to ride bikes in hilly territory. I got into dirt garb and he borrowed a friend's bike so I could go BMXing in the hills with him. Just so we could do it together. Just hills and jumps and racing, but it was so fun. After that, he noticed I was wearing a lot of camo stuff from a place I worked, and he liked it. I set him up with his own kit, and we went to a belt store at the mall just so we had the same belts. We then went to his mom's place of work, dressed identically, to see the reaction. We called ourselves Fearless Dinosaur Hunters, based on a recent article about talk of an unknown toothy reptilian artifact in a local riverbed. We were Dressed to Kill if we ever had the balls to look for it.

He'd bring up a prank he'd pulled, and a week later I'd show him a claymation I'd shot as a kid of Gumby jerking off. Or I told him of how I'd parked behind my high school every day right next to the Art Dept. I got called into the principal's office, and I mocked what they were trying to tell me. They noticed I had not filled out a form to pay for a cap/gown rental for grad ceremonies, and needed to know why. I said they didn't. Not only that, several others had followed suit and refused to pay for garb for a ceremony they chose not to attend. It's called a rebellion, look it up. With pressure, they insisted I explain, and I said the ceremony is a crock certificate proving you're willing to admit you sat through a 12-year babysitting/brainwashing program. Case dismissed, I walked out in the middle of yet another sermon.

From a vice principal who, on her first day at the school, confronted me over a poster of Marci from the PEANUTS comic strip holding Peppermint Patty's disconnected head by the hair with one hand, a bloody knife in the other, Patty's decapitated corpse laying beside in a pool of stab-wound induced blood. I gave it one single caption, Marci simply saying, "Oh! Sir!" She told me to take it down, and I said, "why?" "What does it mean?!" I said a confident liner and walked away: "It's called "black comedy". Look it up"

Just a few minutes prior, I'd shown a friend who was moving away the poster. He literally vomited from laughing. When he saw it. I'd just hung it in the commons and said, hey, follow me. We walked into the commons, I told him to turn around, then he saw it. It was a planned assault. One joke of Constitutional proportions, where I was using the First Amendment's freedom of language and imagery to depict what people now do daily via the misguided Second. Hell, I was on he Yearbook Team (letterman) who used Snoopy-skin rugs and Charlie Brown being executed via a bloody guillotine to say "Don't be late! Your class photos must be in by this date!" HUGE posters. Others were posting simplistic slogans, "class cheer" type bullshit, but I was doing mindscaping imagery to jolt them from submission. Today, I'd be jailed before I won millions in the First Ammendment-affirming lawsuit that invariably followed. Unlike others, I wouldn't take the silent payoff. It's incredible when people don't "settle out of court", so we see how much the derangement behind the case cost taxpayers.

That afternoon when I walked out over the fact I wasn't paying for a cap and gown- and only about a dozen had followed suit- they had my car towed. $35. I spent the rest of the year putting stick-on letters on their bumpers: "HONK IF YOU'RE A FLOOZEE" is a favorite. It's an inside joke that is BRILLIANT. I'd heard the principal of the school call my Newspaper teacher (she was a Spinach teacher from Guatemala) a "floozy". Holy fuck! Even in 1982, I knew that was criminal behavior. I despised her already, but I wanted the Principal OUT for his behavior. Anyway...

To my oldest kid, I'd rattle off a few stories of my own childhood supposed misdeeds, and my now-ex glanced over to say, "You just earned about a million points" and I'd say, "what? Why?" Then she'd explain I was outdoing her son's actions with my own. That he'd once just liked hanging out, riding bikes, going to the mall, but I'd just been shifted to his Daddy Figure.

She was right, and that alone taught me to think before I spoke. I needed to be The Example.

A lesson I've clearly since abandoned.

Another good camping example is that same son was losing a close friend who was moving away. I set this up: I had him come over and video a goodbye message, where he apologized for not saying goodbye in person. Plans had shifted, he was leaving early, so Id asked him to go on tape with a goodbye. He then hid in the laundry closet while we played the vid to my son- he came home about an hour later. Then I said, "Well, let's still go camping" and we loaded up both cars and left. We stopped for gas, my son came over from the other vehicle to ask if we wanted anything from the store. He was CLUELESS his best friend was hiding behind me in the truck.

We drove for a couple hours up to the lake, a place with many cookie-cutter campsites but, further up, a few rough spots where we could set up without any conveniences. We, of course, chose the latter: Go away from others, spend the time as a family.

It had rained, the road was slick, my truck was getting bogged down. We even took turns trying to drive it out before deciding on pushing. My eldest even tried driving, his best friend still hiding just behind him in that seat. Not enough manpower to shift the truck. Perfect timing: "Hey, anyone else around to give us a hand?!" My son's missing best friend tapped him on the shoulder. He was supposed to be moving a thousand miles away, but instead we spent the weekend together as one family.

They went out together a lot that weekend, diving off cliffs from the opposite side of the lake as I taught the younger kids how to climb onto a raft, push off into the sun, and get warm while lying atop an incredibly cold lake. That was a most wonderful family outing. My youngest was so proud of hopping off his raft and getting the campfire roaring again so the rest of us could be warm and dry within moments of leaving the lake. My daughter bloomed as an instant expert on anything at hand.

A couple years earlier, we were on another camping trip to the lake, and my daughter was acting up- as usual. I threatened spankings. I never followed through, as I simply don't believe in repeating poison from my own childhood, but it was a serious game we played. A "spanking" meant I'd ground her one way or another.

Anyway, we got there, spent a wonderful day just goofing off, and at dusk, right after camp was perfectly set up and the fire was raging, we went for a walk and I interviewed everyone on the video camera. One exchange was perfect: "And how many spankings did you earn on this trip?" "Oh, uh, four." "Do you deserve them?", "Oh, yeah". "How many do you think you'll get?" "None." She was right.

Willow, don't EVER try to harsh me by belittling my skills as a father. You are on the wrong river and way the fuck out of your depth.

Your off-soft-target insult is just "physician, heal thyself".
"Back off, man. I'm a scientist."
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby dmac » Mon Oct 09, 2017 3:00 am

The last time I really recall that Radio Flyer wagon is due to a very traumatic experience. My youngest son and a friend came home, I fed them, they said they were "going next door". Off they went with the wagon. They came back, screaming.

The friend had his face ripped apart, a wound from his left temple to just before the lip. It was a sagging wound, exposing much flesh, his jaw, and releasing much blood . No major arteries in the area affected, but a huge, gaping wound flushing blood.

My first instinct? I got the kids calmed down, told them it's not bad (it was and wasn't, I just knew subtle order was the way to go). I said, "hey, it's just a dog bite. You''re perfectly fine. It just looks bad". Man, that went miles of mules over mountains to calming them down. All the screaming and crying stopped, and I told my son to "just don't move, you're only job is to hold this right here". It was a clean towel atop my putting the gaping skin back together. I then checked with the kid, asked him if he was having any problems breathing. I said he'd taste blood, but no worries. I only wanted him to tell me of breathing problems.

I called my wife first, not 911 or police or fire. I said, "get an ambulance here NOW and get here first!" Granted, she worked for the govt right beside the police station, and had many phone lines, so I essentially put her in control of dispatch. I had to contact this kid's mom or dad IMMEDIATELY, as they not only needed to know but be in control of telling doctors what they had powers to do IMMEDIATELY.

Again, maybe I was fucking up, panicking, but my FIRST impulse was to stop the screaming, stop the panic, simplify the issue as superficial and a daily problem. SECOND, I had to contact many and contradict what I'd just told these kids. My wife worked for the govt and right next door to the police, and we had shortcut language. I called her first and said, "hey can you dispatch an ambulance and LE?" She was "What?" "Yeah, please do it now." She knew my voice, knew instinctively it was serious, and got rubber on the road while I attended to keeping these horrified kid from being further panicked.

His horrible wound was stitched up, two dogs were euthanized, and the owners of the dogs moved out of state amidst multiple lawsuits. The doc responsible for fixing his scar did remarkable work, as I never saw a hint. The beauty is the kid didn't let that one terrible experience turn him off of animals or dogs. Maybe not that breed, but...

The parents of the injured child? There was no noticeable change. Of course I got them on-site ASAP, but we were already conscious of each other due to our sons' mutual friendships. I went out of my way to know the parents of the kids my own children befriended. Teachers, too. It's foolish to ignore this 1950s staple of friendship and mutual understanding. It's not judging others, but knowing your kid's friends, It;s saying "HI!" to their parents, it's the most obvious way to build community. The balance is making the neighborhood where you look out for each other, and recognize when something doesn't fit. Someone is hurt, that cat is wandering. It's all La Familia.

The parents went apeshit expressing gratitude of my control of the scene, but also realized- through hours at the hospital- that the damage really was a superficial tear. I mean, they sued the owners for damages, but it was a most horrid looking superficial wound. Things between us were, like, even tighter. Sleepovers resumed. Not only that kid trusted us, but the parents did, too.

But that's really the last memory I have of the Radio Flyer.

I'll tell you another story of that kid if you're interested. Great guy!
"Back off, man. I'm a scientist."
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby budrfligh » Mon Oct 09, 2017 10:20 am

Dmac those stories about your kids are fantastic!! I loved reading every second.
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby bbragg » Mon Oct 09, 2017 7:06 pm

love hearing about your kids and your parenting
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby justice17 » Wed Oct 11, 2017 10:51 am

Dmac,

Of course Sue was not perfect, as no human being is. She did the best with what she had. I have read a lot of the contents on this site including her purse contents and the up keep of her home of FIVE kids. I have also read your post about what a POS mom she was...My question to you is why do you pass such judgment? Do you have five kids??? Your belittling nastiness won't phase me....I have tough skin... Honestly, not being facetious...you have indicated she was a shitty mum, at best, can you explain how? How many kids do you have?
Your name calling, if you must....totally shows your ignorance....
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Hi Willow,

I've been a member of this site for a couple of years now. At the beginning, I used to feel the same way you do.

Sue was NOT doing the best she could for herself or her kids. Whatever the reasons were,Sue failed as a parent In the worst of ways. :cry:

Keep reading and you will see for yourself.
Justice for all

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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby dmac » Thu Nov 02, 2017 1:30 am

Due to love of this song, WILLOW, by JOAN ARMATRADING, I give this recent version where her audience is shining. They sing along in the most natural way. The audience rhythm is incredible, they know the nuances. Kudos!

Outside of America, she's considered what she is: GENIUS!




Thank all you new Joan Armatrading fans for being mostly white Americans who never knew this wonderful music was just beyond your upper-angled noses.

I should remind all the song is about loss and rejection, not being the strong one. It's a weird anthem and a wonderful song, but don't take tonics by trust.
"Back off, man. I'm a scientist."
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Re: Loon's jealousy of Sue

Postby dmac » Thu Nov 02, 2017 4:26 pm

Did I ever tell you the Goofy Golf story? or Smoke on the Water?

Shit, I know I never told the latter. It's the same story.

One day when I was just barely dating his mom, I took my son to play Goofy Golf. On the way, the radio played "Smoke on the Water", and he said "turn it up!" He actually said 'turnip' He was about three. I turned it down a bit and told him what the song was about: Deep Purple were opening for Frank Zappa at this venue overlooking a lake, and a fire began, and everyone ran for their lives. I told him songs sometimes mean significant things, like Smoke on the Water was a disaster where many could have perished.

A couple years later, I was married to his mum and he was having nightmares and somnambulism episodes. We caught him crying out one night, and he was acting as if awake but was sleeptalking. I asked him, to see how deep he was, about the lyrics of "Smoke on the Water" He said, "They burned the place" "Really?!" "Yeah, they burned the place to the ground. They burned the mother down. To the ground."

And who said goofy golf isn't for adults?
Man have I got jokes lined up!
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