The Last Boy Scout?? Introduction to Life- Part One

Who is the last Boy Scout? The answer: The Scout with the best PREPS! I was born in Stoughton, and raised in Massachusetts 1966 to 1979. Stoughton was a small town, approximately 16,000 people when I was born. Early on we lived in Plymouth Massachusetts, for a few years. During that time we had a few acres behind our house that stretched into the cranberry bogs owned by "Ocean Spray" and we would investigate the woods. Keep in mind I was about three or four years old at this time. My brother Mike, three years older than I, would take me exploring with him. During the summer, as a family, we would go down to Plymouth Plantation, and walk the path of the Pilgrims and visit the Mayflower in Plymouth Harbor. We never got lost, and we always had a knife (Rule 9, "Never go anywhere without a knife." -Gibbs). It was only a small Scout knife, but try getting on airlines today with the Scout knife. You'd probably get arrested. In fact, if a five-year-old had a Scout knife on airlines, the parents would be thrown in jail for life. The child would be on the no-fly list for the rest is life. I remember a few summers, between the ages of 5 and 11, we would go to Vermont and stay with our grandparents on my mothers side. They had about 29 acres on the side of a hill with the beautiful A-frame home, a garden, a Creek running through the property and a river a quarter mile away filled with fish. We would cut branches a make spears for fishing. By this time I graduated to a 6 inch straight blade knife. Try doing that today, you get arrested and thrown in jail. They would have called us "Domestic Terrorists" and the Wild Life Federation would sue us. I remember walking through the woods with my brother and my grandfather, and he would be carrying a 22 and 410 over/ under shotgun. We would walk for miles, if we were thirsty we drink from the creek. We would always return in time for lunch or dinner that my grandmother had prepared from scratch. Usually a main course, vegetable grown in their garden, homemade bread, and her famous apple pie. Generally, we would get the apples the first couple of days we arrived by the bushels full, from a farmer at the top of the mountain. This would allow for homemade desserts all summer long. My grand parents did not have a lot of money. They were very frugal. They raised for girls, on a carpenters salary during and after World War II. When we were with my grandfather, we would cut wood using an ax, split wood with the maul and wedge, carry the wood to piles, and gather up the branches. We would help in the garden. We would protect the river from erosion. We clean up the trails across his property. It seemed all we did was outside. In the evenings we would play board games. My grandfather was a Englishman, but I believe more Irish than English. He could make anything out of wood. And his finished work was perfection. He taught me the value of hard work, and pride in workmanship. Values that seem to be lost on today's society. We lost our house to foreclosure when I was 5 years old and moved in with my grandmother (Meme)on my father's side- she lived in Stoughton, Massachusetts. It was my grandma, my parents, and my brother, Mike and I. A small home with one bathroom, and about three quarters of an acre. Some of the tallest trees in town. We never failed to have a least one tree-house and all the time we lived there, which was about seven years. Our tree-houses had running water, and camping toilets, escape hatches, rope swings, and artillery – old tire tubes used as giant slings shots. We would not be overrun. The Civil Rights movement was in full swing. We were in the middle of the Vietnam war. I remember as a child watching the name of the dead scroll by, they called it "Body Count". I remember the green canopy of Vietnam jungles as the helicopters swooped overhead, it was exciting to see them fly through the air at such a high rate of speed. In 1985, I would enlist in the Army National Guard, and as a young military policeman, I would fly in the same helicopters as an M-60 machine-gunner hanging on the side of these "Hueys". (To Be Continued)

KickStarter Project will kick off January 2014

I have been helping less fortunate people most all my life. I have experienced homelessness more times than I can recall as a single individual, I have also suffered four times with my family. This was not a chosen direction but circumstantial, and out of our control. It was embarrassing and at times humiliating. Nothing hurts worse than being turned down for asking for help. "Sorry, we do not hand out money." "We can give you a food box, how many in your family?" The question screaming in my mind was always- "How can I cook it without electricity or gas to cook with?" I guess they were never homeless or forgot what it entails. That is the purpose of this Short Film called "Read The Book, Not Just The Cover" a first-person look at how those less fortunate are treated in America. More will be posted in this blog as we go on.