Dad Was Loud


My dad was loud. Anytime he was angry, frustrated, or upset he was louder than normal. At home watching the news-he was mad at the reporter, mad at the politician, mad at whoever was making whatever decision that didn't agree with his stance on how it should be handled (whatever 'it' was).

When he was driving down the road he yelled at others-even if he was in the wrong-it was all their fault. He would come home and yell about the people at work and how they had made him mad. If you rode with him in the car anywhere or 'helped' him while he worked on one of his projects-he would be talking VERY loudly about how wrong mom was and how no good she was. Sometimes it was Bob he was mad at or the education system, or just the general societal laws that we are all required to live by.

As I grew older and became more aware through reading and associations at school and through the general public education I realized that he was very, very wrong. I could see and understand his thought processes-but that did NOT mean I agreed with him. I had learned early on not to argue but to smile, nod, and say accepting phrases. In short he was mad at the world.

Silly man-you catch more flies with honey; get your own way more frequently when you use kindness to grease the wheels of life.

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