Top 20 Tuesday for July 12, 2011: The importance of trauma in child-rearing

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I’ve given my dad a pretty hard time the last few days, so let me take this opportunity to say . . . he’s pretty much been asking for it.  I’m going to sort of give it a rest today by including pretty much any family member that has caused my brother or I any permanent mental scars and put them together for my weekly Top 20 list.

As for my father in particular, if you followed yesterdays blog post, mom returned from her trip to Greensboro to take her friend to the airport . . . with a 16″ crack in the windshield from a thrown rock.  You get one guess how that went over with Pops.  I have only just now settled down below the level of blind rage at my father today, so I don’t think I could do another entry about him and be in the least bit funny at this time, so I’m gonna expand the horizon a little bit and try to let some funny back in. Read the rest . . .

Dysfunction is relative, and probably one of my relatives: Part II Engineering Stupid

  

Do the clicky thing here if you missed Part I yesterday . . .

I mentioned in yesterday’s post that my father is an electrical engineer.  This makes him very, very smart.  When it comes to electrical engineering.  He is retired from IBM and did all kinds of really important electrical engineering stuff while he was there.  He can make electronical stuff work as long as it is a power supply because that is what he built.  He made good money doing power supply electrical engineering electronical stuff.

It ends there. Read the rest . . .

Dysfunction is relative, and probably one of my relatives: Part I

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I spent some time with my father this afternoon.  I have not intentionally killed anyone since.  (Note the word “intentionally”)  Given that I carry the genetic code that he gave me 42 years ago, it is these times that I sit and think about my interaction with other people and hope, for all that is good and Holy, that I have improved on the code.  I’m hoping for the best with the whole “Nature vs Nurture” thing since I was born and raised in the good old US of A, because my father was born in Nuremberg, Germany (also spelled Nürnberg) in 1940.  If any of you history buffs out there are paying attention, you already figured out that this was probably not the ideal child rearing environment what with all those Nazi’s moving in and lowering the property value. Read the rest . . .