Here we are, 20 years after my conception, and what a wild 20 years it has been. These 20 years have brought me happiness, sadness, joy, disgust, simplicity, complexity, wealth, poverty, confusion, clarity, calamity, normality, addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. Who I am today is the product of 20 years of triumph, and tragedy. This blog entry documents the highs and lows of this 20 year roller coaster I call life.
1-5 - the Lost Years
6-10 - When I Grow Up…
11-15 - Arrested Development
16-20 - Fall From Grace
Tom Weise (Satan, Lucifer, Hitler, Anti-Christ)
Wrigley (Dog), Daisy (Dog), Pickle (Cat), Fido (Cat), Bubbles (Cat)
Alex LaBore (My Best Friend)
Justin Davis (My Other Best Friend)
Trish Reifenstahl (My Bestest Friend)
Luke Mornini (My Best Bud)
Lori Wiles (Youth Leader since… 2000?)
Ben Halsch (Newish Youth Leader)
The Lost Years
I know there are some people out there who maintain a vivid memory of their childhood. People who can remember events that took place while they were a toddler. I on the other hand, remember very little about my first five years. I was an infant when I fell off the counter and impaled myself on a steak knife. I was 4 years old when I slid down a wet hill and had three toes chopped off by a lawn mower. I was a toddler when I developed a lisp that changed my name from ‘Jacob’ to ‘Sacob’. My favorite basketball player was Michael Sordan. My sister also happened to be ‘Michael Sordan’. (I still can’t explain why I thought she was Michael Jordan). I remember my vast collection of Thomas the Tank Enginememorabilia, and always wanting a new train set for my birthday, and Christmas.. And Easter… And all other holidays. All other memories of my childhood are sitting in a box labeled “Photos” in our garage. I really, really, really, really wish I had more to put here. But then again, that’s why I dubbed these years: The Lost Years
MVP of “the Lost Years”: Thomas the Tank Engine
Best Memory: Two words. Toy. Cars.
Worst Memory: Seeing HUNDREDS of stitches on the end of my foot.
When I Grow Up…
Ahhhhh elementary school. So much imagination, so much inspiration, so little knowledge. I was 6 when I started attending Prairie View Elementary. I was also 6 when I was diagnosed with ADHD. If you could take the time to imagine a kid so fascinated with the world, that he dropped what he was doing at any given moment, to go figure out where a noise was coming from, that kid you’re thinking of was me. My imagination was spewing out of every orophus of my body. I played football in the backyard with imaginary players, imaginary teams, and my imaginary girlfriend who came to every game. :). I would constantly decline doing homeworkto go build a castle with my Legos. I was 6 years old when I decided to gas up my dads riding mower - with the water hose. I was 7 years old when I thought it would be cool to help dad with the concrete. I successfully cemented the sand box. (I don’t remember my reasoning for the last two acts, but I bet they were priceless). On two separate occasions I can remember knocking over wine racks in Wal-Mart and Econo Foods… This was around the time when teachers started asking us what we wanted to be when we grew up, and as cliche as it sounds, I wanted to be an Astronaut. I dreamed of owning my own spacecar, and travelling to different planets in the multiverse. I was a spitting image of Neil Armstrong. And I’ll be damned if I’m not him when I grow up…
MVP of “When I Grow Up”: Dad
Best Memory: Golfing with dad
Worst Memory: The Paddle!
I was young, and I didn’t know what divorce meant. I couldn’t comprehend the term. I thought of it as a reason for multiple Christmases. Splitting time betweenWalford and Cedar Rapids was no easy task for an eleven year old. Which house gets my posters? Which house do I store my Spaghetti O’s? Which basement gets my arcade-style basketball hoop? Mommy had the money at the time, so naturally I stayed with her. I felt bad for daddy. I loved him very much, but my eleven year old self was drawn towards the green. Don’t get me wrong, I love mommy very much, but lets be real here, do I want goodwill clothes, or $200 Nike Boots? (I love you equal, mom and dad!!!)… What I haven’t talked about yet is my trouble in school. I thought learning was a blast, unfortunately, homework wasn’t. I rocked out on tests, and finished in the top 90% of kids in Iowa who took the ITBS tests. I was always on time for class, and I always asked the most intelligent questions. But homework… HOMEWORK destroyed me. My ADHD was getting the best of me, and my homework scores plummeted in inverse proportion to my fascination withthe world. I was in 8th grade when I started asking questions that kids my ageshouldn’t be asking. What is life? How are we living, breathing, conscious beings? If everything needs a creator, then who created God? YES, these are great questions, but they didn’t help me in the long run. My ADHD apprehended my ability to excel in school, therefore my Development was Arrested.
MVP of “Arrested Development”: Mom
Best Memory: Walford Baseball
Worst Memory: Prairie Baseball
Fall From Grace
Now, before I go on, I need to let you know that I will be leaving out some of the more “heavier” material in this section to protect the sanctity of our family… Middle School was a joke, I can’t believed I squeaked by with a 2.0 GPA. High School was no different. How do you think if felt hearing that some ‘at risk’ kid had a 2.0 GPA? How do you think it felt when you found out yours was 1.6? Is that a typo you ask? No, it’s not. I am saying for the first time, publicly, that my accumulative GPA in high school was 1.6. My IQ? 137. My Pass/Fail ratio was about 3:2. I failed 9 classes when I was a sophomore (Here’s the kicker, I failed 6 in the first semester). I accumulated 100+ demerits during my Junior and Senior years. I dropped out halfway through my Senior year. I had 19 credits going into the second semester. I had 8 classes worth a total of 4 credits that semester. I needed 24 credits to graduate. You do the math… MEANWHILE, somewhere in the Psychiatric Care Center at St. Lukes, a certain someone close to me was deemed ‘suicidal’ after a nervous breakdown. This certain someone was in debt. $80,000 to ballpark it. They were in danger of losing their house. A certain siblinghood joined together and moved in to this persons home and cleaned house. We worked 24/7, cleaning, throwing things away, trips to goodwill, many trips to the can shed (This person is one year sober as of this October :) ). We were then rewarded with a 30 day notice to evict the premises, signed, Tom Wiese. We had worked so damn hard, only to be rewarded with a swift kick in the ass. We packed our things, said our last goodbyes, put some holes in the walls to spite Tom Wiese, and seeked shelter. Thankfully we found an apartment in Cedar Rapids, that is, after being homeless for one night. Looking back at all we lost, we truly did fall from grace.
MVP of “Fall From Grace”: All My Friends
Best Memory: Summer of ‘09
Worst Memory: Getting hit by a tour bus
All is good these days. We are making a living in this 2 bedroom apartment. I find brief pauses in my life to update my blog in hopes that people actually read it. lol. It’s time for me to go to bed. And may my “40 Years In The Making” blog be much, much more tumultuous.
Jacob Bruce Moore