Aloha everyone, a few weeks have passed since we wrote anything (brain cramps), but I thought it would be fun to get off the beaten path and write about something quite different, me. See back around 1958 there was this women messing around in the back of a car and the next thing you know here comes little Charles. Well I hate to say this, but the guy who fathered me wanted nothing to do with me and it was the 50s, a time where illegitimate children and the families that spawned and harbored them were shunned.
So I was sent off to catholic charities and stuck in a place for unwanted children called the Cradle House. Enter my grandfather and grandmother, my grandfather was a dear man and immigrant from Poland, full of pride. He worshiped the USA so much that after he came through Ellis Island he lied about his age so he could join the military and serve his new country in WWI. My grandmother was from the Ozarks and she never had a job and never drove a car, but could cook and I would have put her up against Rachael Ray any day of the week. A few months after going to the Cradle House they claimed me and I lived with them for a couple of years until some social worker decided I needed to go to a home that they selected for me. I will always let my grandparents serve as my guiding light, my grandfather, an honored American hero, and my grandmother, a person with values that were in the purest sense.
My friend Raff Ahlgren, FOX 6 Community Affairs Director says I should write some books; after all I have the uncanny ability to remember events and words spoken to me like it was just this morning. Unfortunately a life full of repression and abuse is not what I wish to spend my time remembering.
Here is the short list: 5 abusive foster homes (which include my natural mother). Having to sometimes wear girls shirts from the Salvation Army because the foster homes could not justify spending their state issues check on me. Placement with a colored family; which just so happened to live next to the Billy Graham Center during the Martin Luther King civil rights movement. Being thrown through a second story window by a drunk that was pissed that he had no more silver dollars to steal from me (my grandfather had gave me a handful for every birthday). Not having the ability to develop trust. Having my front teeth knocked out because I drank somebody’s soda while staying at their house. Setting myself on fire and spending my entire summer vacation in a burn unit with 2nd and 3rd degree burns on 60% of my body. I eventualy got tossed out on th estreet at 16 whereas I worked as a farmer, welder, machine operator, truck/car mechanic, service man, warehouse worker, computer tech, management, etc. 2 failed marriages in 15 years.
On the subject of child support, please tell me why I still have to pay thirty thousand dollars in compounded interested on back support that’s been fully paid for quite a while? Does it matter if one of my emancipated children lives with me while the leaches continue to let my blood?
I am now currently employed as a manager for a crappy software company and the proud owner of two unique businesses, Wave Shoppe Hawaiian Shirts and Film my Ride Picture Cars, I made them by myself. I am chairperson for some well know charitable events in San Diego and I funnel money to the needy and those that go without as deemed necessary.
Yes I know what your thinking, how on earth does this guy still function. Well some days I don’t, but I have managed to look past all this and I have even managed to develop some real friendships, ones that I sincerely believe are genuine in nature. My shirt shop is so cool because for once in my life I can do something that allows me the opportunity to truly express myself. Sure I could dwell in the darkness of my past but why? It’s an incredible feeling to make a happy looking Hawaiian shirt knowing that some other human being will be wearing it; they will be helping me disperse Aloha with good karma.
So the light at the end of the tunnel is quite bright and I am excited about the future. In just a few short years Wave Shoppe has quadrupled in size and revenues, and my collection of Hawaiian shirts is immense, not bad for a kid from Chicago. By the way I want to thank Janeth for the
inspiration to hang my own laundry in public view. If you are ever in a position to don one of my shirts, be assured that it contains some rich history and some moral threads.