The 'National Lampoon's Vacation' Series And My Siblings.

My brother James made a comment earlier today concerning the link between the film National Lampoon's Vacation and my other brother Joshua. Essentially, he asserted that Clark Griswold and Joshua were symbolically linked.

A-ha! A light bulb went off in my head. There are four Vacation films and four Manning siblings. Perhaps we're all theoretically linked to one of the films. Let's analyze the four films and go from there, shall we?

National Lampoon's Vacation -- A well-meaning family man, Clark Griswold, wants to give his wife and kids the classic road-trip vacation they deserve. Come hell or high water, he overcomes every hurdle placed before him -- losing their money, getting lost in the desert, a dead body, etc. Even a closed theme park (Walley World), won't keep his family from completing their vacation. One BB Gun and a SWAT Team later, Clark delivers what he promised -- a vacation they would never forget. Vacation is all about having a no quit attitude. No matter what, Clark will deliver as promised. To sum the film up in one word... determination.

National Lampoon's European Vacation -- After winning an all-expense paid vacation to Europe on an absurd and degrading game show, the Griswold family proceeds to endure one dopey, goofy experience after another. In England, Clark continuously drives on the wrong side of the road and causes major problems, even getting himself stuck in a roundabout for hours. He also manages to knock over Stonehenge and incite a riot at a German folk dance festival. The whole film is driven by a foundation of silliness and folly, all at the expense of the Griswolds as stereotypical American tourists creating havoc for a wide swathe of unsuspecting Europeans. To sum the film up in one word... happiness.

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation -- With the holidays upon them, Clark Griswold desperately wants his family to have an old-fashioned, traditional Christmas. Yet, his ineptness continues to cause problems for everyone. The trouble begins with a frigid trek into a snowy forest for a Christmas tree, but somehow forgetting to bring an ax or saw to cut it down. Before long, Clark is hosting his entire extended family in his home, which he's painstakingly covered in thousands of holiday lights. After much trial and error, he finally gets the lights to work, which nearly sends the entire city of Chicago into a blackout. Things continue to spiral out of control, with the final nail in the proverbial coffin being the news that Clark's highly anticipated monetary Christmas bonus is nothing more than a membership in the "Jelly of the Month" club. Upon having his boss kidnapped and enduring another encounter with a SWAT Team, Clark finally realizes that he's had the Christmas vacation he set out to have. No matter how bad things seemed to get, there was always faith in a bright outcome. To sum the film up in one word... hope.

Vegas Vacation -- The oddball film in the series not linked to National Lampoon, this outing sees the Griswolds take a high-rolling trip to Las Vegas. What starts out as a family vacation quickly spins out of control. The four Griswolds soon parts ways, with no sense of family at all. Even worse, Clark manages to gamble away their entire savings, with nothing to show for it. Wife Ellen is seduced by Wayne Newton. Son Rusty becomes a card shark with a fake alias. Daughter Audrey rapidly falls into the seedy underbelly of the city by attempting to become an exotic dancer. Yet, Clark realizes the error of his ways. It was never about the vacation or the money; it was about keeping his family together and spending time with them. In a last-ditched effort to recover their money, Clark spends his remaining two dollars on a keno ticket. While waiting for the results, he meets a lonely old gambler. They become very sentimental and friendly, with Clark naively telling the old timer he was now part of the Griswold family. Unsurprisingly, Clark fails to win at keno and is heartbroken. Ironically, the old timer finally wins the keno jackpot, but passes away before being able to accept it. He gifts the winning ticket to Clark and his family with his dying breath. Vegas Vacation is all about atonement and cherishing our loved ones more than anything else. To sum the film up in one word... redemption.

When I think of determination, I think of my brother Joshua.
When I think of happiness, I think of my brother James.
When I think of hope, I think of my sister Julie.
When I think of redemption, I think of myself.

Somehow, the four original Vacation films presented a theme that links us all together. How that managed to happen, I'll never know. It's just one of those weird things that happens in life, without need for an explanation. Just go with it, you know? Now... let's get traveling down that Holiday Road!

Shall We Play A Game?

No sentient computers hell-bent on world destruction were harmed in the composition of this blog.

Today's article is really more of an open dialogue for the friends and family in my life. I have an idea to run by you. Perhaps you'll like it, perhaps you won't. Either way, your feedback is encouraged.

Every year, I try to host my family and friends for a barbecue feast. It's nothing too fancy, but it fills our bellies and provides the opportunity for some much needed comradery. I always look forward to the event. With the weather now warm and the Spring allergy season over, I believe the time is right. This year, though; I was thinking about doing something a little bit different. Let's not just have a family meal...

What if we had an all-day Monopoly tournament?

My siblings will remember our rousing games of Monopoly when we were young. I can recall just how often Josh seemed to win -- he has a knack for slinging real estate and making deals. Why not continue the tradition? The deluxe edition of Monopoly can accommodate up to ten players. Should we have more than ten people participating, teams could be drawn. There would be no actual money involved -- we would play for glory. Because Monopoly has the potential to go on for a long time, we can set a time limit. Should more then one player or team still be solvent upon reaching the time limit, play will stop. Those players/teams will tally up their total assets, with the champion having the highest value.

Best of all, a trophy will be awarded to the victor. You'll have a whole year of bragging rights.

So, what do you think? Good idea? Have a different game in mind? Bounce some ideas off of me.

National Siblings Day - What My Siblings Mean To Me.

Together for James' birthday - 2006

Being that today is National Siblings Day, I thought I'd take a moment to recognize my two younger brothers and younger sister. They represent so much love, joy and happiness in my life. Without them, my life would have drastically less meaning and I'd be a much different person. To better express how I feel about each of my siblings, I'll use a single word to illustrate what they mean to me.

Perseverance - My brother Joshua doesn't understand the concept of giving up. He's a fighter, through and through. When the chips are down and friends are hard to find, he'll be there to lend a hand. No task is too big for him to overcome. No matter the odds, he'll make sure the mission is complete. He's the type of guy you want heading up a team -- Optimus Prime in the flesh. I'd trust Joshua to lead me anywhere.

Integrity - When it comes to sticking by your principles and being honest across the board, James fits the bill exactly. He might not have the most popular perspective on things, but his opinions are usually the most fair and righteous. He's a raven in a flock of doves -- the one element no one expects to add a much needed counterpoint. I respect James for the man he has become -- dependable, compassionate and not afraid to say what he thinks.

Spirit - It's undeniable; my sister Julie is a firecracker with a zest for life. She isn't afraid to give you her opinion. She'll bend over backwards to help a friend in need and add a little spice while she's doing it. Julie is a rare individual who breaks away from the norm. Fun and flair are always in order. If you're in need of a vibrant, feisty young woman with a no-quit attitude, Julie is the perfect candidate.

The above photos were all taken in 1997. It's amazing how much these three wonderful kids have grown up since then. I'm such a lucky guy -- I got to see them develop and mature each and every step of the way. That's something no one will ever be able to take away from me... and I'm a better man for it.

Caged.

I am completely and utterly ashamed of myself.

Just a short while ago, I exploded with furious rage at my sister. The reason why I uncontrollably erupted is irrelevant. My actions were without merit. She, nor any other human being, deserves to be yelled at and berated in such a manner. My behavior is solely of my own choosing - no excuses.

I am a monster. I always have been. I find myself circling back to the beginning of this very blog. There's a caged beast of frenzied indignation just fuming inside of me - shaking the bars of its cell, grabbing at any who come near. Like a rampaging gorilla locked in a prison, it sits inside of me and waits in the darkness. Waits for the right moment to strike. Waits to destroy.

This guy gets me.

If ever there were a real life Bruce Banner / Hulk, it would be me.

For years, I shielded my younger siblings from the anger erupting from my father. No one deserved to deal with such horror, but at least I was best-equipped to handle the beast and absorb the blows. Now, as an adult, I spew forth that same atrocious bitterness, often times upon the very ones I love the most. What's wrong with me? Did I not see what such gross negligence could lead to? Just as an idiot whom keeps touching a hot stove, I now tread the very ground I so desperately tried to avoid all those years ago.

Am I doomed to become my father? No matter how much I struggle and squirm against the past, is there nothing I can do? Am I genetically predispositioned to morph into that which I came from? It's all just mind-boggling. And now... I'm left sitting here alone. I feel emotionally empty inside. Not angry or sad, just ashamed. The Hulk has returned to his cage and I'm left to clean up the mess he made.

I'm certain that I've done a better job of controlling my anger this past year. Yet, it seems that when the beast does manage to get out, the havoc is many times worse. This is a perfect execution of the quantity versus quality debate. Which is worse? More frequent outbursts of lesser severity? Or less frequent outbursts of greater severity? Either way, the balance remains unaltered. That anger is still inside of me. The underlying problem has not been fully corrected. I'm still on a course towards emotional oblivion.

I really need to right this ship before it's too late.

Julie... I'm sorry. You deserve better.

A short note on the departed.

Today is my mom's birthday. She would have been 53 years old. Satan didn't take her. An absent God didn't take her.

Lung Cancer took her. Years of abusing herself with cigarettes took her.

My emotions and thoughts about my mother are awkward to say the least. Out of respect for my mother on her birthday, I won't say anything negative or disheartening. What I will say is that she owed it to herself to progress forwards in life and not leave at such a young age. If not owed to herself, then at least to her other three children. I've come to accept what my life symbolized to her, so there's no love lost upon me. Rather, she should have been here to provide comfort and support to my siblings in their most important of developmental years. It's a shame.

Assuredly, my father has performed a grand theatrical display of emotions today in his dead wife's honor. Certainly, his latest girlfriend was submissively amused. I wish him the best of luck in his continued life of phantom monstrosity.

One day too late.

In my life, I have collected a vast assortment of 'What If' moments.

As I sit here writing this blog entry, I can't help but consider all the paths my life might have taken had certain events not happened how and when they did. I'll discuss a few.

What if I weren't born?

Well, my mom and dad certainly wouldn't have stayed together. In the time since my mother's passing, I've learned from others some important details as to my birth. Apparently, I was the anchor that kept my parents together. Though my mother was in an abusive relationship, the pregnancy made her stay. Great - so my spawning kept her in a bad marriage. And I wonder why my mother and I never really connected! Deep down, she probably despised my existence. Everything that was wrong in her world was manifest in me. When my mom was real bad off before her demise, I asked her if there was anything she needed to tell me; anything that she needed me to know before she was gone. She said nothing. There is one positive spin on my parents staying together... my younger siblings. Josh, James, Julie - you each hold a piece of my heart. You are my family, forever and always. Nothing will ever shake us. You are my rock and my everything.

What if I'd gone off to a proper college?

This one is a frickin' joke and upsets me to this day. I like to think I'm a smart guy. At the very least, I'm versatile, eager to learn and quick to pick up information. Some perspective: I had no desire to be my high school class valedictorian because it meant nothing to me (the soured-up socialite that took that honor can keep it). If I'd wanted the "honor", it would have been mine. To this day, I still laugh at our graduation ceremony. Literally, I fell asleep on stage with the other honor graduates out of sheer boredom. Upon graduating high school, I'd been accepted to not one, but three different colleges. Those institutions were Boston University, Emory and Washington University in St. Louis. Did I go to any of them? No. Why? Because I was too nice of a guy. I hung around Southside Virginia for the sake of an unnamed family member to assist in their entrance to community college. Yet, they ultimately never went to school because they copped out. And there I was - a guy that could have gone on to a finer institution... dealing with rudimentary hogwash at a two-bit rural community college. It still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. And to think - my folks didn't assist one bit with college. Not a book, not a class... nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Not even a "Kiss my ass, Jared". You know... taking some interest in my continuing education would have been appreciated.

What if I'd spoken up sooner?

I've never spoken about this information publicly, so please bear with me.

The year was 1999. I cared about a fellow classmate in high school very much; had for a few years. I'm not going to say I loved her because I was young and wouldn't have even known what love was. Not only was I young, but I'd never even had a date with a girl. That being said... I had feelings for someone quite special. We were friends and worked together on our school yearbook. We exchanged emails fairly often. Sometimes we'd eat lunch together. I was still a timid young man, though. Talking to a girl was scary, to say the least. As her senior prom rolled around (she was a year ahead of me), it took me forever to work up the nerve to ask her to go with me. And... I waited too long to ask. Some other schmuck had asked her already (yes, he was and forever will be a schmuck). But, she didn't get weirded out by my asking. Surprisingly, she responded positively to my asking. Even though she graduated, we stayed in touch. We'd call each other on the phone and talk. Finally, roughly two months after her graduation, I'd worked up enough courage to ask her out again. And... this time she said yes! I was thrilled beyond anything I'd ever known at that point in my life. She said that she'd already made plans for that evening, but that we'd definitely go out the next day. Boy... was I a happy guy.

Then, the next day came. She was gone.

Little did I know at the time that the plans she had for that fateful evening would lead to her own passing. I won't go into details out of respect for her. Many of you, my former classmates, will know the particulars of what happened. If you're curious, contact me directly for further info. Albeit, I was devastated. I didn't show my pain - I bottled that up too (just like everything else). There I was, facing my own fear and realizing a horrible truth - I waited just one day too long. What if I'd asked her out one day sooner? I could have saved her life. I could have taken her to a different place to be around better people. I could have done something... anything... and she'd still be on this planet.

I was one day too late. It was all my fault.

To this day, I still can't listen to Don Henley's The Boys of Summer without choking up. That song was playing on the radio when I learned she died. The girl in the song? That's her - brown skin shining in the sun indeed. Her face will never leave me. I can close my eyes and still see her. Sometimes, at night, thinking about all this and her keeps me awake. What am I saying - it's quite often in fact. Now obviously I can't speculate that we'd have worked out. Who knows where life would have taken us? But, had I of spoken up one day sooner, perhaps a beautiful young woman would still be with us. I'll always carry this burden, as I should.