Welcome to my blog. I have had a great time cranking out these entries, which basically amount to a sort of autobiography. I invite you to cruise my "Memoirs and Blather" below. Thanks for stopping by. Tons of music and other fluff at http://www.ricseaberg.com. Warm Regards, Ric Seaberg
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Dick For A Dowry
The truth is, when a man gets divorced, then, in most cases, it’s time to start over, collecting holiday decorations. The truth is, when a man gets divorced, the children go live with the mom, anyway, mine did, and so, when it’s time to decide who gets what, the holiday stuff, the Christmas ornaments, the tree stand, other display items, like the Santa Moose Puppet and all the stockings, they go where the kids go. When I was divorced, the first time, and my 2 daughters were in their teens, I tried to arrange to keep one of my daughters with me, but she was a great soccer player, and was determined to go to the high school in the school district where her mom lived, to play for her sister's alma mater, and for a coach she admired greatly. So off she went, and any Christmas items that I had retained eventually went too.
There are a few things that have remained with me over the years, and today, when Marie and I were going through the Christmas boxes, and selecting the things we would display this year, she grabbed an ornament, in the shape of a baker, that’s me, an ornament which had been given to me a long time ago by my daughter Amy. I was pleased to see, among the tons of special ornaments that Marie has collected over the years (she kept lots of ornaments in her divorce too), vacation ornaments, ornaments purchased especially with my step-son Blaine in mind, things that Marie and I have bought together since 1997, at least one paltry Christmas thing of mine. As she grabbed it, she said, “Oh here’s the baker”, and I said, “Is that actually mine?”, and she replied, comically,”Yeah, it was part of your dowry!” Standing there, looking at those boxes and boxes of stuff, and my one lone contribution, leftover from my checkered past, I told Marie, “Man, when we met, I didn’t have dick for a dowry.
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