RANTS FROM OBLIVION

Ever feel like a criminal?? Ever do something that you know is wrong but regardless of the consequences you continue to do it - and then continue to do so over the course of years.
Well I once was that criminal.
The nature of my crime took place in a small town near the southern New Jersey shore 21 years ago.

My crime? Read on.


As a child, my parents read stories to my sister and me almost every night. Wonderful stories full of intrigue, humor, dialects, adventure. And they'd also allow us to choose the Golden Books which beckoned to all of the children hanging from their mothers skirts. Yes, and there, on the lower rack in the market by the cash register while food shopping Thursday afternoon, I found my favorite:



"The Sailor Dog" by Margaret Wise Brown w/pictures by Garth Williams.(red and blue heart-shaped stickers by child)

The independent spirit of the sailing dog and his cozy cabin always inspired me, although not enough later to actually join the navy - to me, the total opposite of freedom. But that self-reliant feeling stayed with me and in time, I bought a little house which, much like Scupper's boat, needed serious attention, and to which I was more than delighted to use my toolbox in many the same ways as the dog did to create a haven of peace and security.
When my daughter was born and and became old enough for me to begin reading to her, Scuppers was a bedtime book I wanted to include and eventually re-discovered, lo and behold, one day at the library, and in an even larger incarnation than my original (big pics, large print). I wanted my daughter to grow up with a sense of empowerment (especially in the age of the new woman) so Scuppers became a very popular staple at bed time to also help develop a sense of adventure. And while I was at it, every night I'd whisper in her ear as she lay sleeping: "You're a big girl Nicky. You can do anything you want to do".
For you young parents out there: It Worked. Sorta...


Sometimes a man is capable of intuitively comprehending the essence of a person and a situation perceptively enough to decide that pre-emptive action is neccessary. This was the case when I felt the decline of my marriage begin to take on particularly vindictive directions. My child stood as the most important element of my life, and knowing the vulnerability which that position left me, I felt it mandatory to consult with a laywer to prevent the possibility of my child being taken out of state - a very real possibility at that time. Having secured, processed, and presented the proper court orders I felt, though not secure, at least, less vulnerable.

To my horror, I discovered that a "promised 2 week vacation" turned into the nightmare child abduction that I had try to divert. When someone so precious is ripped from your arms and heart, an almost overwhelming sadness commands the empty space created. It's not like losing a possession - it's having someone taken who is inherently as much a part of yourself as yourself, and then not knowing if in fact you'll ever see her again, and what ugliness she's possibly and probably being subjected to at the hands of someone sociopathic enough to steal a child. Inconsolable is hardly word enough to describe the daily, hourly ordeal.
When her mother called once, I was told I would only be allowed to speak with my 3 year old in exchange for money (extortion).Then after alerting the court of her failure to uphold it's stated order proved to be completely worthless, I comprehended in full, the viciousness of my reality. And there on the nightstand night after night, month after month, sat Scuppers, begging to be reconnected to the quiet, loving ritual of being opened and shared, savored and read, with his favorite little fan.

In the meantime, The Library was on the lookout for Scuppers. But there was one Dad in the county too broken hearted to return him - it was like giving the library a piece of his heart. And he just couldnt, and wasnt going to give him up. He and Scuppers were on the run.....
Five months later after she finally returned home, Scuppers and Nicky sailed the happy seas together many times again, but it was still too difficult to return Scuppers to the library(hence, the "crime"). Eventually, a white lie accompanying a $25 check for payment of the "lost" library book enabled Scuppers to become a part of Nicky's little library -
Book #1.

The number 1 which she taped to the edge of the binding is gently fading and the scotch tape yellowing with age now as it awaits another lucky child to open its covers to the lands and adventures and imagination within.

PS. For you young parents out there, remember to also whisper in your child's ear: "call up and talk to your Dad often as you go thru life"