Apr. 22, 2016

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Good evening friends,

Today, April 21st, is a sad day. The world, or fans of musician Prince, are mourning his sudden passing. Not on my top twenty list of favorite musical artist, but I still liked a few of his hits.  57 is too young to die, famous or not. F.Y.I. they used to call me Prince, back at the door plant where I worked some 30 years and fifty pounds ago!  Ha-ha!

I really have been struggling with my feelings the last two days, relating to my bio. I still, even as I type ponder whether to open the windows to my past/soul that reveal the most intimate chapters of those years of my life. And I know why. The fact is that I am not really proud of a lot of the things I did and who I did them to. It has taken a lot of reflection, self-examination, along with brutal honesty to come to terms with the reality that I was not a good person for many years. Not that I was a total prick! But that I fooled myself into believing that somehow my conduct and attitude were fine, as long as no one was getting hurt or complaining. But they were…. I just was not listening. Thus the selfish part of my life began. From the ashes of my shattered marriage rose not the magnificent phoenix, but a hawk. A predator and vulture who wreaked havoc on many a good souls. And that transformation, as I recall was forged mainly from the restoration of my crushed self-esteem, manhood and ego that I found myself in.

On the outside I was esteemed as a model single father. Yes, my kids did well and seemed not to lack anything on the surface. I provided them with a nice home, plenty of attention and all the physical and material necessities they required. People would often complement me and the job I was doing as a single dad. But inside, I was out to prove to my wife that she really blew it, by casting me off.

Now as you have read, my up bring, challenging and dysfunctional as it was, was not totally devoid of some morality. My mother, between slaps and spankings, still did her best to instill in us some discipline and basic Christian principles. We were still taught to some degree, right and wrong. Good and bad. Kindness and compassion. Not always by example, but at least preached to some degree. So for me, at 27, I knew right from wrong. Looking back now, I have no excuses for my choices. They were mine, and I can’t blame anyone for them. Not even my parents. We reap what we sow, myself included.

So one of the factors in my rebuilding process was my place of employment. I worked at the factory for 4 of the five years I was married. I worked in an all-male environment and all my friends and acquaintances were mostly men. By my last year of marriage I was only months into my new job at the store. The working environment couldn’t of have been more different. The store was full of beautiful young girls and women! Working and shopping constantly. I was so devoted to my wife, all the way to the end, that I didn’t even notice all the eye candy that surrounded me. Even as my marriage was being dismantled right before my eyes, I noticed even less the creatures in my universe.

But once the turmoil in my personal life settled and word got around, as it usually does in those places that I was available, then things started to change. Not around me, but inside of me. There I was now single and available to the world. Initially, I believed, coming from such a low self-esteem hole that my wife had left me in, that nobody would have any interest in me. Not then, not ever. I figured that Dora was my only chance at something good, and now with two kids in tow, that my prospects were even dimmer. At 27, I felt like I was finished. Who would want me I thought.

Then as the dark clouds began to disappear and my spirits started to rise, my eyes began to open to the world around me once again. This time with a whole new outlook. My meat cutter workmates were the biggest culprits. They began to play matchmakers and advise me in order to help me forget and move forward with my love life! “The best way to forget a %$#@*, is to replace it with a better one” the old guys used to tell me. “Life’s too short to sleep alone!” or “Get all the &@#%* you can get." I took every piece of advice. Although at that stage, I was still in love with my wife and still missed her dearly, I still found the new attention left me feeling good. The first young lady that made eye contact with me was a beautiful 19 year-old clerk I used to close the shop with every night. She was a Utah native, and was already planning a return back home in a few months when we began to date. She really fell hard for me, and my being a single parent was not a deterrent for her, but a plus! As far as she was concerned, it was what made me more attracted to her! I couldn’t believe it. Toni was the first one to boost my confidence up from the grave. Now I had at least one foot out.

Two months later in January or 89’ she moved back home. We talked about the possibility of me joining her in Utah, and tried keeping a long distance thing going, but eventually I broke it off. Not because of anything she did, simply because once we were separated by distance, the reality of my true feeling surfaced. I was not in love her. She was my first rebound relationship. And for that, I apologize. The only thing that should ever be rebounded are basketballs.

My sister matched me up with a co-worker, a single parent like me. A cute Mexican girl with a reserved, polite manner. But after a few dates we both found out we had nothing in common. Actually she told me she liked or preferred the quiet, gentle types. She did not appreciate my distorted sense of humor. I was not her cup of tea, and I knew it. But instead of feeling rejected, it empowered me more. My self-esteem was growing! But not in a good way. I figured she didn’t deserve me.

Weeks later, my eyes locked on the cute scanning coordinator with a nice butt, as I was taking out the trash. She smiled back and I found the courage to approach her. We chatted the next day and I asked her out on a date. We went to a movie and got along great. She was 22, I was 27. I quickly felt comfortable with her and we became an item. Lorraine was beautiful, funny and once again she found the single dad thing attractive. I let go of my hangs ups about having kids and started to view it as an asset. Not a good thing for me at that juncture.

Lorraine was the best thing for me at that time. She told me things that no else had ever uttered to me. She used to use words like “Hot”, “Gorgeous”, and “Handsome” when referring to me! That really made me uncomfortable and embarrassed at first. I would look in the mirror just to check and see what she was seeing! I asked her to join me for a trip to Mazatlán on the train to Mexico. A place that my wife and I never made it to together. She gladly agreed and we had a blast for six days. She and I still didn’t see eye to eye on many things and argued often. Some of it was due to cultural differences but I think as she often would tell me, I was still hooked on my wife and that we would never evolve as long as I hung on to those feeling. She was right. She said everybody I would meet would now be compared to Dora. She was a ghost that only I could put to rest. Eventually our differences became more than our similarities, and I ended the relationship in an ugly, dishonest fashion. I was now letting all that attention go to my head! Lorraine did me more good than harm in those months we were together, and I never thanked her for the love she showed me and my kids. We are still friends to this day.

I continued the next couple of years that in a series of physical relationships with way too many woman of all races and ages. I gobbled up all the attention I was getting and never fell in love with any of them. I was feeding my ego and my libido. Yet somehow I always came away feeling empty. Because inside, all I really wanted was what I once had. A wife that could fill Dora’s spot. It would prove to be a black hole, a bottomless pit that no woman could ever fill.

The tragic result was that I was exposing Anthony and Vanessa to my parade of women, constantly going in and out of our house. Not realizing or caring the effect it was having on them psychologically. Truly one of my greatest regrets in life. And as good kids often do, they kept quiet and played along.

In 1991 I was transferred to a new store closer to my house, and it was there that I met the next person who would impact my life and I hers. I will talk about her next time.

Thanks for your support, have a good night and a better tomorrow. 14 more days to launch!

Juanjohn

Apr. 19, 2016

At Home-1992

Apr. 19, 2016

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Hello to all!

I hope everyone is having a wonderful Tuesday.

Yesterday was a good day for Juanjohn and the ‘gigs’ tour! Here in town I had a short but sweet news story about this adventure. It was barley a minute long, but it reached many more people I than ever could have with just word of mouth or my Facebook page. I was hoping for some air time and we got it! There is a possibility of some national exposures just around the corner, so we’ll keep our toes crossed!

With the link they activated at ABC affiliate KGUN 9, I was able to post it on my FB page and it blew up! Also with the help of my FB friends and family who shared the link, my phone didn’t stop buzzing all evening! So thank you guys and ladies, and welcome to all you brand new followers.  

The countdown is now at 15 days until I depart. If you are new to my blog page, I am in the middle of my mini autobiographical walk through of times past. I suggest you go back and read some prior posts to catch up, if you like. To reiterate, I wanted to spend some days talking about me, my childhood and my adult life. Leading up to the point that brought me here with you today, days away from this unique journey that we’ll take together! My aim is to give all you good people a better insight as to what the ‘Johnny man’ is all about. What makes me tick, or explains my distorted humor! People either hate me, or love me! I just can’t find too many of the latter! Now back to my past.

By January of 89’ the smoke had cleared from the separation and divorce. My wife was well on her way to a new life and so were the three of us. It had been almost five months since she departed and had only seen the kids a couple times. I never kept her from seeing them, they just were not a priority for her at that point of her life. She didn’t exercise her custodial visits and never showed up even when she promised. Nothing in this world was more painful than watching two kids waiting to get pick up, watching for every car from the window that passed by, looking at the clock as the minutes past, only to be called and told that plans had changed. It was a kick in the stomach for me, seeing them agonize every time they got stood up. I know they wondered what they did to be so loved, then so rejected by the person they loved the most. I didn’t want to intervene too much with that arrangement, feeling that my ex was sowing seeds she would one day reap. But you can bet she got an earful from me every time she pulled those shenanigans! The papa bear in me roared.

Still they pressed on. Being the good kids they had always been. They hide they’re pain very well from most people, but I knew it was killing them inside. Especially since they’re mother lived but a few blocks away for most of this era. To their credit, they excelled in school and adjusted to their new found responsibilities. After a year at my mothers, we rented an apartment down the street. My mother was not to happy, feeling that I couldn’t handle work and being a ‘Mr. Mom’. She wanted to keep us there until they graduated. Typical Mexican momma! But I wanted us to have our own space and privacy.

Early on I taught them how to do their shores, how to use the washing machine and fold their clothes. How to help me prep dinner and how to clean the kitchen afterwards. They never complained or fidgeted about their lot in life. They learned all this all before the age of ten. My mother would tell me to bring our clothes so she could wash them, or to let her cook for us. She just wanted to make our life easier and to feel like she was helping. I would take the food at times, since mom was a hell of a cook! But I never allowed her to wash our clothes or clean our house. To this day I still do it myself!

Still we felt incomplete at times. And it manifested in different ways. Anthony was and is the more sensitive of the two. Vanessa was the harder nut to crack. I would see Anthony melancholy at times and would try to comfort him the best way I knew how. Which probably wasn’t too good. He kept busy with friends and cousins and loved playing sports like most normal kids. He kept his distance from his mom, even after she settled down and tried to make amends with them years later. He held back his true feelings from her, out of respect, but I knew it would take years for her to rebuild that trust again. He was older, and was more aware of the things that went down when she left. He harbored resentment for many years after. But eventually as he grew, he soften his attitude towards her.  He possesses a silent strength, even to this day. He is genuinely a good egg.

Vanessa on the other hand, seemed to build a wall around the fact that her mom was gone. She always seemed happy and didn’t seem to care about her one way or another. I knew it was just a front. It was her built in defense mechanism. She got along with everyone one and always kept busy with friends and sports. She really excelled in the class room and made it look easy.  I would often ask her how she was doing, feeling or thinking. I always got the same response: “Im okay dad, really.”

At 10 years old, her mother, who by then had become more regular with her court appointed visits started to plant seeds in her head. She told her that when she turned 12, she would be able to make her own choice about who she wanted to live with. She promised her the world if she would come and stay with her. I never worried for a minute. I knew my kids well. After a year of drilling that into her head, Vanessa responded her bluntly, the only way she knew how: “Mom, I love you, but I am never leaving my dad. So quit asking.” I felt vindicated. A lot of bad memories were erased from my heart after she came home from her visit and told me as much. I slept like a baby that night!

By 1991 I had completed my meat cutters apprenticeship at the store. My income doubled and we bought our first home with my sister’s co-signature! We were elated! No more apartments or living with relatives, we had a home all to ourselves. We felt so fortunate and blessed, we didn’t want to leave the house the first few days! Once again, we still thought of what could have been. But the pain was now easier to cope with. My sister’s words spoken to me in my sorrow years earlier would prove prophetic. We were a complete family, wife or not.

Now the kids were entering their teens and I my thirties. They seemed to have done well despite the loss of their mother.  How did I do in the aftermath of my failed marriage? Hang on!

Tomorrow is the Pink Floyd laser show, so I will resume on Thursday.

Thanks again to you good people who take the time from your busy lives to indulge my passion of writing, if only for a few minutes.

Good night!

Juanjohn

Apr. 18, 2016

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Hello everybody!

Today I had my 20 seconds of fame, thanks to KGUN 9! They ran a segment on my adventure at the five o’clock news. It was short and sweet, but it got the word out to a T.V. audience. And for that I am grateful to them. Friday I have a newspaper story with La Estrella Spanish paper, and Saturday a short segment with a Channel Azteca talk show. Im trying to get the word out to anybody that will listen!

I also want to thank you, my loyal followers for your support. By the time I roll out of this town on the fifth of May, you might have a change of opinion about me, with all this drama and dysfunction that I’ve been posting about my personal life!

There was so much that happened upon our return from Mexico that night. I couldn’t tell you in 10,000 words if I wanted to. So many details are better left in my now faded memory and are better left unsaid. The end of a marriage, as many of you know is ugly and painful. Ours did not die a slow death, although looking back now, there were plenty of warning signs I chose to ignore. To me it was an overnight collapse! Like a building scheduled for demolition, and my wife held the button. It took me a long time to even be able to talk about it without getting choked up. But now, 28 years later, Im totally good with discussing it. So I will try to put it in a nutshell!

Unbeknownst to me, my wife’s reason for not going on the trip was all a fabrication. She had no intention of leaving for two weeks, she though, was happy that I was! My mate, as I will refer to her now, was involved with someone else and used the time that I was away to plan her escape from the world in which she felt trapped. Not that uncommon, but she devised a plan to break away from me without coming clean about her affair. She told her family lies and half-truths to get them on her side in order to be able to move out of the house. The next six or seven weeks were the most crushing, gut wrenching times of my young life. I was completely devastated! I never saw it coming! Not that way.

There was a series of a back and forth, tug of war saga with my newly discovered nemesis Eddie, and eventually he won the battle for her affections. I was in ruins emotionally and physically. Unfortunately, the kids had a front row seat to the drama and we did not do enough to shield them from all the chaos surrounding them. That to most people, including her family and mine was the most horrible aspect of that event. That a woman would leave her husband, which was not out of the ordinary, even in 1988, but that she would abandon her children, is what shocked them the most. Especially my in-laws. It didn’t matter much to me, I never would have let her take them, and she knew that. The reality is that they were going to be in the way of her new life, and she never intended on taking them from my side.

I went from 155lbs to 130 in a month. I couldn’t sleep, eat or focus at work or with anything else around me. I was a zombie. I was consumed by her whereabouts and sociologically defeated by the feelings of being “out manned” by my younger counterpart. My self-esteem hit new lows I didn’t think existed. What hurt the most, was that Eddie was everything I wasn’t or that my mate always claim to hate in a man. At nineteen, he had a record, smoked, drank heavily, used drugs and fooled around. Yet she preferred him, not me. I couldn’t reconciled that in my mind or heart. I kept thinking that she would one day come to her senses and return back to the kids and me. I never felt such pain. Not even from my abusive father who would beat me and belittle me into submission, left me so crushed. I felt alone in the world.

Fortunately my loved ones came to my rescue. My mother and sisters all rallied around me and helped me with emotional and moral support, and the kids too. I though could not find the words to explain to my eight and six year old kids why their mother was gone. Not in a way that comforted their worried little souls, especially at bed time. After a few weeks of mopping around, my big sister called and shook my #&*^% up a bit. Always the logical one, she was very blunt with me and set me on a better path.

She told me to stop my crying, and to man up! That I didn’t really lose much at all, that my wife had done me a favor, and more importantly, I had gained full custody of my kids! She assured me that the pain would pass and that we were still a family. The fact that my mate chose to depart, did not diminish the family unit, but most likely enhanced it. She lifted my spirit up like no one else could at the time. She proved to be the father I so sorely lacked, especially for times like those. After that conversation, the sun and the sky looked brighter. I was on my way back to normality. Now that is what I least expected to ever be at the age of 26. A single father of two. I had to reinvent myself and be not just a better father but now also a mother to my children. For they too were hurting for their mom.

The first thing I had to rebuild was my self-esteem. That would prove to be a long term project. But as you will find out, I had a lot of help in that department.

I will end there tonight and resume tomorrow with part two.

Thanks for your ear,

Juanjohn

Apr. 17, 2016

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