Tripod

Hello World!

I'm B. Falkon and I am making a webpage. It will get less lame as I spend more time on it.

Let me tell you something about myself and my nearest and dearest.

I am a member of a very dysfunctional family. Is there a functional family out there? I do not know them. Do you?

There are three of us in my family and we have one pet. My parents have been married for about thirty years and have not celebrated a single anniversary. They severely dislike each other but refuse to divorce.

My mother is the sane down-to-earth member of our little clan. She enjoys watching TV, stringing beads, and gardening. She cooks for the rest of us but gave up cleaning many years ago after she became overwhelmed with things to do and no one would help out. For many years she was incredibly nice and accommodating. Not surprisingly she was pushed around by her mother and husband for years until she finally snapped. Now she takes no crap from anyone and speaks her mind. I like her better this way.

My father is a health nut. That sounds like a good thing, right? Nope. He takes more pills than anyone I know. He has a whole supplement cabinet in the kitchen. It contains Zinc, magnesium, ginkgo boloba, digestive enzyme, digestive formulas I, II, and III, about forty other herbal and mineral supplements (all unregulated by the FDA of course), and a few good liquors. There are several such stashes of pills and organic foods around the house. Despite his best efforts my father's diet seems unbalanced. From what I have noticed he subsists mostly on carbohydrates, eggs, supplements, and colloidal silver. His complexion is a little gray, possibly as a result of the silver consumption.

He also firmly believes in the power of various alternative therapies. Once he tried to cure his mother-in-law of a skin growth with aloe vera. Aloe vera is good for burns but as my grandmother found out, it is not so good for tumors. The growth grew faster once she started rubbing the plant gel on it and eventually had to be surgically remover to prevent it from affecting the underlying bone. When I developed gal stones some years later my father suggested a diarrhea inducing alternative therapy. I opted for surgery.

You may wonder how our poor cocker spaniel lives in this unstable environment often erupting in strange arguments. Honestly, I think that he was born crazy. He was a gift from my mother's friend. It took us a year to house brake him. There were times when he would go outside, come back in the house and make a puddle in the middle of the living room. We got him some rubber toys. He ate them. At first we thought he was just tearing them but we never found any shreds. We stopped buying him toys so he ate out cloths, paper towels, toilet paper, shoes, and even a piece of a four by four. His medical history is interesting too but I will leave discussions of Cushing's disease and other anomalies to the experts, at least for the moment.

In all fairness, I have to admit that I am far from normal. I'm not sure if it is environmental or genetic. I was always the odd ball. Most children go through a phase when they are terrified of something. They run indoors after the sun goes down and leave the lights on all night to keep the monsters safely behind closet doors. I was afraid to go indoors at night. I was afraid of the nails that were left in the wall after someone moved a picture or hanging plant. My parents removed the nails. I was afraid of the holes. My parents patched the holes. I was afraid of the drywall compound. The phobia passed with time but it seamed that I was always going through some kind of ''phase''.

In elementary school I was the fat kid. My classmates picked on me. Unlike most picked-on children I did not become convinced that I was worthless and develop self-destructive tendencies. Instead I became convinced that my classmates were worthless and regularly hit and kicked them. My teachers thought that I was crazy. Interestingly it was not my sadistic behavior that was their main concern. They were concerned that I did not ''socialize enough''. Eventually I changed schools. I behaved myself. I did nothing to anyone. I did not get into a single fight. The teachers thought I was crazy anyway. Apparently I still did not socialize enough. I gave up and staged a schizophrenic episode claiming to see thing that were obviously not there. I got a week off from school.

By the time I got to college I was not violent anymore. I developed a passion for physics and geometry making me both a freak and a geek. I managed to get a masters degree but could not cut it at the PhD level. Seven years of college can wear a person out! I was not about to put up with seven more. That is fine because I would much rather be called master than doctor. This brings me to the present. I am currently looking for a geeky job and enjoying weekends free of homework. In this free time I am working on a book with the help of one of my friends. The word "Necrophilia" appears in the title - enough said. I was also finally convinced to see a psychiatrist be someone who worries about my sanity. The confirmed that I do not have schizophrenia. The only mental problems I have are a bad long term memory, dyslexia, and something called g.i.d. All are harmless disorders unless you drive a car with automatic transmission and confuse your left with your right. I drive a stick shift. Automatics are for wimps.

I am slowly creating a series of true short anecdotes from my life and posting them here for your amusement. Some are strange. Some are funny. Some are both.
Sewer Surprise
Vacation Humiliation
Orbs

Last Updated Sept. 4, 2006

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