Jake’s watching the news again as we eat dinner. There is a story about Mike Tyson’s daughter dying accidentally. Jake turns and is incensed that Tyson would put his daughter on a treadmill. I hear the newscaster say that Tyson wasn’t in Phoenix at the time of the accident but had flown in after. So I say that Tyson wasn’t involved. Jake says "What?" So I explain that I just heard he wasn’t in Phoenix. Jake gets angry and says that yes he was, that it meant he wasn’t available for questions. I can see that he is really angry so I apologize and say "My mistake. I misunderstood the newscaster." He turns and grabs some papers off of the counter and thrusts them at me. "Here is something else you misunderstood." I take them and see that it is a print of the Q&A page about the Federal Reserve. It is from their own website.
A few days ago I was explaining to him what I had learned in the past year about the Federal Reserve; namely that it is not government owned but rather a private corporation owned by shareholders and the largest shareholders are those who own some of the largest banks in the world. People like the Morgans and the Rockefeller’s etc. I had tried to explain the system of printing money and lending it to the government at interest and how it was not constitutional. Now he is telling me I am wrong by way of this Q & A sheet. I start to read through it and he is yelling at me telling me it says ‘right there’ that it IS government owned and it IS audited and it IS legitimate. As I read through the three sheets I immediately can see that it is very craftily and carefully worded to give that impression but in actual fact, it does not state that the Federal Reserve is government owned. I try to explain this to Jake but he is in no mood to hear it. He is really angry and after a few more attempts to explain, I drop it. He tells me I am ignorant and stupid. Nancy is telling him to stop shouting and just forget it. He doesn’t pay her any heed. She gives up and goes to lie down. I get up and put my dishes in the sink and go sit outside on the back deck. I need some space between us so that he can cool down.
The back door is closed as the air conditioning is running so I can’t hear anything going on inside but after about 10 minutes I get up and go in. Nancy is no longer lying down. I can hear raised voices coming from the living area. I go to my room. They are having a full-blown argument and it’s not pretty. I can hear Nancy telling him that he is a miserable SOB and everyone hates him. He is furious and yelling and swearing at her. I am very upset to hear this and I feel it is my fault but I don’t dare go out there and say anything so I stay in my room and feel sick to my stomach. I can hear him saying stuff about me from time to time so that just cements the feeling that this is because of me.
As it progresses I decide that I have to leave. Not this minute like, but as in - go home. I can’t handle being responsible for Nancy getting more abuse from this guy than she normally has to put up with and, obviously, I haven’t got the skill set to handle him right. I deal with a lot of temperaments and attitudes on a film set, and in the position I hold it is crucial that I possess good people skills. I do very well and in over 52 productions I have only one director I won’t work with due to his impossible temperament. But I haven’t had to deal with outright abuse since a child. I didn't handle it well then, and I don’t now.
I start to organize my stuff. I can’t pack my bags as they are in a cabin downstairs and there is no way I am leaving my room while Jake is still awake tonight. But I get a head start with putting my toiletries in baggies, taking a few things off the wall that I had put up, and packing all my books into my backpack. The arguing escalates and there is lots of swearing and at one point I hear Jake hit Nancy. She hits him back. This is far too reminiscent of my childhood and it is scaring me.
Suddenly it all stops; Nancy goes to bed and Jake goes back to his TV. I don’t change into my PJ’s and I don’t go to the bathroom. I turn off the light and lie down on top of the covers. I am way too upset to sleep. I have $300 to my name and I have no idea if it will be enough to get me home. Last time I looked at flights home they were running about $280 plus $40 to check my bags. Also I have to get from here to Miami airport and I have no idea how I am going to find transportation or pay for it. I am frustrated with my financial situation. I don’t even have a credit card to book a flight so that means I will have to ask my son, Christopher, to do it and hope he will. He did it for my ticket here and I gave him the cash straight away, but I hate asking.
I lie there thinking about my situation and what I can do. Finally I hear the TV go off and Jake goes to bed. I must fall into a fitful sleep because I wake dying to go to the bathroom at about 11:30. I stand at my door and I can hear Jake snoring so I very carefully slide the door open. It doesn’t make a sound. Katie the dachshund doesn’t even hear it - every other night she does and comes running for me to pet her - and I slip across the corridor into the loo and slide that door carefully shut. I make it back to my room without disturbing anyone and lie back down on the bed. It is lightening outside again and I watch it for a bit before falling back to sleep. I awake hearing Jake up and going to the loo. I hold my breath as he goes back to bed. I don’t want him knowing I am not asleep. Later I wake having to go to the toilet again. Dang this old age, weak bladder crap. I stand at the door and listen again but there is no snoring. I slide the door open a crack and I hear Jake tossing and making some noise so I close the door back up and lie down, trying to ignore my aching bladder. That works for about half an hour then I can’t stand it any longer. I slide the door open, hear his heavy breathing, and go for it.
I wake hearing the TV go on. It’s about 6 am. I get up and start clearing out my closet. I open the door as I do it. I am going to have to face everyone sooner than later. Nancy comes in and asks me what I am doing. I tell her. She says she doesn’t want me to go. I tell her I don’t have a choice, I have to leave. I can’t be responsible for them fighting. She tells me it wasn’t my fault; it was hers because she went in and yelled at him for being an ass. That set him off. We talk for a bit, keeping our voices low. She asks me if I want to come to work with her now or if I want to stay here and what will I do if I stay. I tell her I will keep packing. She sighs a deep sigh. She really doesn’t want me to leave. Jake is in the truck waiting which means if I go with her, I am going to have to face him now. If I don’t go with her, he will be back in an hour and then I will have to face him alone. I decide to go with her. I grab my stuff, and swipe at my hair with a brush. I look horrible but that is the least of my worries at the moment.
I get into the back seat of the truck. Jake doesn’t say a word to me. Nancy starts it up and backs out. I take a big breath. "Jake?" He says, "What?" "Can you hear me ok?" "Yes, I can hear you fine." I take another deep breath, "I just want to apologize for last night, for letting things get out of hand. I should have just agreed to disagree and let it go at that." "Letting what get out of hand?" He asks and I don’t get it. "Our conversation. Last night. I am sorry that it caused you and Nancy to argue." "Last night had nothing to do with that. Do you want to know what it had to do with?" He asks. "Only if it has something to do with me. If not, then no." I say. "Of course it has to do with you." He replies. OK then. He then goes on to say that I am not doing what was expected of me at the Pet Resort, namely relieving Nancy in the afternoon so she can get away. Thing is, I have just started to get the hang of what all I need to know - it’s only been a week and yesterday was the first day I felt like I knew what I was doing. And then he goes on to say it isn’t my fault really, it’s all Nancy’s fault because she won’t let people help her. She would just rather do it all herself. He goes on a huge diatribe and basically gives Nancy crap again. I start to cry; I can’t handle that I have caused her more grief. No one knows I am crying as I don't make a sound. He then gets after me for being concerned about some friends at home who are going through a hard time right now. He thinks that is a waste of my time and energy as there isn't anything I can do about it, in his opinion. He also berates me for saying I would like to have taken the truck to Sharkey's last night to call Shonah on my computer (she is down about work stuff and I wanted to talk to her about it). I had, wrongly apparently, assumed that because I have been using the truck since day one it would be all right for me to just say I would like to take it to make this call. He is angry about my presumption and then informs me that I have been driving around without insurance coverage. This is news to me as I am used to the insurance going with the vehicle. Again he blames Nancy for not telling me this earlier.
We arrive at the shop and I get busy with filing and answering the phone. When I have a moment, I go online and find a couple of websites that explain the Federal Reserve better than I can. I find one that is a transcript of an interview with Ron Supinski of the Public Information Department that is very revealing. I print them out and set them aside.
Jake drops by a bit later and he seems to be in fine spirits. He has some pictures of the property barriers that the county installed that he needs to send to the state. He can’t figure out how to get them into one file and then how to email them so I help him out. As he is leaving, I say, “I went online and printed off some stuff about the Federal Reserve, if you’re interested.” “Yes, I am interested,” he turns back to me, “ I am always interested in learning. I am an uneducated man, I quit school when I was 15 and couldn’t wait to get out. So anything I know, I learn from reading.” He takes the papers and leaves. That went better than I expected. In fact, I am quite amazed by the turn around in his whole mood and say as much to Nancy later. ‘Well, that’s Jake for you,” she says, “he blows off steam about whatever is on his mind and then he’s the sweetest guy after.” I wouldn’t exactly call him sweet, but hey, anything is better than last night.
Also, while I was online, I saw the story about Mike Tyson’s daughter and he WAS out of state when the accident happened and he DID travel to Phoenix after the fact. I don’t think I will be mentioning this to Jake.
He calls me about two hours later. “Hey, that stuff you gave me. That is some scary shit.” He exclaims. “I know.” I reply. “I have already talked to some of my friends about it and they don’t care, they say ‘so? That’s the way it’s always been’. Incredible.” he says. No apology for yelling at me last night, for calling me stupid and ignorant. Whatever. At least he isn’t angry anymore.
I look online during lulls in the day to find prices for flights home. If I wait two weeks I can save about $100 on a ticket. So I decide, given the turn of attitude, I will hold out for the two weeks. I check on prices for flights to Tortola, as there is nothing I would love more than to spend some time in that paradise. I need some serenity at the moment. It’s not too bad to fly there, but flying back to Vancouver is too much, over $400 and I don’t have it. Even if I work for two weeks more, it would take every penny and that just isn’t going to work, I wouldn’t have any money for food and I would be going home completely broke. I’d give almost anything to be able to go to the BVI for a bit but it just isn’t going to happen.
I call Shonah on the phone to talk about her work issues and while we are talking I mention that I will come home in a couple of weeks. I tell her I looked into taking the Greyhound but it is a 5-day trip and only $60 cheaper than flying and, as much as it might be nice to see some of the eastern states and then all across Canada, I think it would be a long ordeal. She agrees. I tell her, though, that it would drop me in Kelowna, which would save me some money because then I wouldn’t have to pay to get there from Vancouver. She reminds me that she is coming down to Vancouver for ColdPlay and so I can go back with her. That sounds great to me so I write to my friend, Donna, asking her if the invitation to stay with them for a while is still open. She writes back right away and says “Funny thing. I was praying for you this morning and felt I should call you and encourage you to come home and stay with us.” Well then, that just confirms it. I am going home. But I would still love to stop in the BVI on the way. One day I WILL get back there. I am not sure how as it is so expensive, but I just have to. I almost wish I had never gone in the first place. I fell hard for those islands and I just want to get back. You can’t miss what you don’t know. But, it’s too late. I do know it and I miss it. A lot.
I go to my blog site and someone, who I don’t know, has written that I need to go home, make some serious money, and try again at the sailing dream but be better prepared. I laugh out loud. I don’t think so. I won’t ever answer a sailing ad again. What I might do, though, is sign up for some sailing lessons in Vancouver, once I am working again. If I make it as a screenwriter (and Ron the director seems to think I am going to hit it big with this story and the story of a destination wedding) then I will buy my own catamaran, live aboard in the BVI, write and do day-sail charters. Sounds like paradise to me.
I wanted to shake up my life and go sailing (or learn on the job, so-to-speak) so headed to Florida to crew on a catamaran. This is about how it went or, rather, didn't - and my life since. Hopefully it will lead to a catamaran on the clear aqua blue waters of the Caribbean Sea, watching the sunset, a coconut rum and coke in hand. You must START AT THE BEGINNING of the blog, April 2009, to get the whole story...
All photographs are mine and not to be copied without express permission from me (click on them to see the large version).
Some names have been changed to protect my butt.
Some names have been changed to protect my butt.
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