Thursday, July 22, 2004

A rose by any other name....

There have been some questions about the name Trashman. Did it come from a Sublime song? Did it come from The Stand (Which is one of my favorite books.)? The answers are no and no.

The name Trashman, simply sums up what I am. I grew up poor country folk, in a small Texas town. Never enough money, broken cars in the front yard, hell we even had broken cars in the backyard. My school clothes were fashionable two years before I got them. My mother had a 7th grade education and my father had a 3rd grade sort of education. The first video game I ever saw belonged to my rich cousin, it was called Pong. Sometimes we lived in a house, sometimes in a trailer. We grew our own vegetables and usually killed our own meat. My father fished with dynamite.

My father used to say that he and my mother were in the iron and steel business. "She does the ironing and I do the stealing." I can't count the number of times the sheriff came to the house to arrest my dad, or how many Saturday nights he came home bloodied from a bar fight.  My dad made a living three ways, welding, stealing cars, and playing pool. He supplemented his income by playing craps. Dear old dad drank more than he made, and he didn't have a problem raising his hand to woman or child. My mom used her job as a nurses aide to pay the bills.

I'm not bitter or angry about the way I grew up. I always figured it helped me become who I am today. I have been fairly successful at whatever I decide to do. I love my wife and my children. I have tried hard to pull myself out of the trailer park. I pay my bills. I'm finally staying out of jail. Sometimes I even vote. I like to think that I have bettered myself. However I do have some traits that I believe are genetic garbage.

I like black velvet Elvis paintings, pink flamingo in the front yard, tattoos, big haired women, girls with to much make-up especially blue eye shadow,  bleach blondes, walking down the street bare-foot, dark sheets for curtains (keeps all light out), lawn jockeys, rasslin (also known as wrestling by the educated types), The Simpler Life 2, bright red lipstick, and pretty much anything else in bad taste.

So I guess the name Trashman is my way of embracing my heritage.


Sara said...

Trashman---even though you say you came from 'trash', you've been to become more of the owner of the trash heap. Keep smiling.

Grace said...

Hahaha. Now that's some funny shit.

I think it's better to be proud of where you came from than ashamed of it. We're a sum of our experiences.

As for the cars, we only had one but I'm Canadian so there's no such thing as "trash" here be it trailer or otherwise. We just call it "don't play with those kids". kidding.

Queenie said...

This was all fanstastic. I enjoyed it.
I have some great things I have pulled out of the trash.
Then again, some were mistakes...


Katrina said...

One can only make the most of what they are given. The rest is up to the individual--to give life their all, to go with the flow, or to stay where they are. Good for you for making something of yourself!