My introduction, through craft, "fabrication", corrosion and illusion

Hello Steemit,

I am "Team Scream". I have been "Team Scream" for nearly 20 years now. I am a "middle aged", married, father of 2 beautiful daughters, who are both independent and financially secure, through their own hard work and dedication. I am also a grandfather. My granddaughter calls me "Boppi". It was the first word she came up with, while spending time with us as she was learning how to speak.

My (one and only) wife and I have been married for 27 years now. We originally met in the 1980's at a Tears for Fears concert. I noticed her, because she is 5'11" tall, stunningly beautiful, with long blond hair, and piercing blue eyes. She has a wonderful smile, and is most likely, the only human being on the planet, that is capable of tolerating me for more than a few days at a time.

When we met, at that concert, in Los Angeles California, I had had just enough alcohol to make me courageous enough to approach this young lady, who was by all accounts, way above my pay grade, yet not too much (alcohol) to make a fool of myself. As fate would have it, this stunning beauty, of much higher pedigree than I, had a boyfriend at the time, and so whatever engagement I fantasized about, at that particular moment, was not to be. I was 23 and she was 18.

Fast forward to 1989 (5 years later).

During the apex of my "party from Thursday through Sunday" lifestyle, as fate would have it, I decided to head out to the local club with my "boys", as we normally did on any given Thursday night. I was no fewer than 3 sheets to the wind, when I saw "her". We probably all know who "her" is.... or shall I say, we have all had a "her" drop themselves, right smack dab in to the middle of our world, when we least expect it, when we are not (necessarily) looking for "her", and most certainly, not prepared for "her" when she decides to make her entrance.

At this point in my life, there may or may not have been some form of chemical influence, synonymous with the era, that had an "effect" on me, and what happened next, but from what I am told, and what my lovely wife of 27 years reminds me, and everyone who gets to know us, can be called nothing short of "divine intervention".

It goes a little something like this:

A beauty of unimaginable measure, towering over every other woman in the club by at least 2 inches, is standing at the bar. The 3 sheets to the wind guy (me), (potentially) aided by some form of chemical courage notices the "unicorn" standing there, in heels of some particular fashion, with a skirt that looked like it was painted on in a master stroke of art and natural wonder, as she looks at me and smiles. She would later describe this look and smile, as something she did out of courtesy, and not as if she had just seen the messiah. I, however, interpreted that gaze, as if this overwhelming creature had just invited me into her lair. ....It was on... At least in my mind.

At that very moment, I looked at my friend Damon, who was equally influenced by the alcohol, chemicals, the Amazon, or perhaps all 5, and said "bro.... im going to hook "Barbarella" or get knocked out... cover me", and as I listened to Damon's laughter fade as I got farther away from him, and closer to her, the chemicals kicked into to hyperdrive, and I was unstoppable. At least from my perspective.

"Barbarella" grew in my field of view, like the Tower of Babel must have, when the hipsters approached after some lengthy journey, across the deserts of wherever the hell Babel was back then..... Just roll with me here for this one.....because it gets better.

As I approached "her", you need to keep in mind that I had no idea who she was, I had no idea that this was the same girl from the Tears for Fears concert 5 years earlier, after all, we were both 5 years older now, and I did a LOT of "living" in that 5 years... All I knew is "Barbarella" was at least 6 feet tall, she had electric blue eyes that you could see from across the room, and her butt was amazing.... remember..... alcohol and (potentially) "chemicals" were in play here. Now, add that to the pulsating drum beat of some tune from the Straight Outta Compton album, which is what was happening back then, or perhaps it was "going Back to Cali" by whoever it was that made that tune, and the stage was set..... I was either going big, or I was going to get manhandled by whoever it was that escorted her to the club that night. Either way, it was going to be epic, and I was going to be at the center of it all. Come hell or high water.

Fast forward past all of the dramatic grand entrance crap, as if I potentially had it going on, to the part where I actually opened my mouth to speak for the first time to, or at, "Barbarella". I said hello, asked her what she was drinking, and offered to buy her another. She said "no thank you, but I will take one of your cigarettes", as she looked in my shirt pocket, at the pack of Marlboro Lights, and like the BAMF I thought I was back then, I said "deal, but only if you dance with me". She said "deal" and we actually shook hands, like I had just sold her a car. .... This is where it gets a little bit tricky, because my "actual" recollection of what happened next, differs slightly from "her" recollection, but we both agree that I took her hand, led her out to the sparsely populated dance floor, and we started to dance.

About 13 steps into whatever ridiculous dance we did back then, the 2nd stage of my alcohol/chemical rocket booster kicked in, and as I recall, I started to slur my words a bit. I remember a rush of fear coming over me, and like an explosion, every single ounce of courage I had leading up to that moment, completely freaking evaporated from my soul. It was as if I were stark naked, in sub zero weather, and I was the only person on the dance floor, and if I didn't act quick, I was going to be the laughing stock of the club, and by default, the entire town, so I did what anyone would do....I think. I immediately closed the distance and put my arms around her waist, drew her in tight and proceeded to slow dance with her.

By this time, the song had changed to Guns n Roses Welcome to the Jungle, or Motley Crue something or other, but either way, it was wholly inappropriate to be slow dancing to the song that the DJ was playing. Nonetheless, it was working, and it was loud enough that "Barbarella" could not see or hear me slur my speech, and the strobe lights were flashing with just enough intensity, that she couldn't see my eyeballs bobbing and weaving to the beat, or the lights, or the alcohol, or even the (potential) chemical reaction I was having. To this day, I am not convinced that it was the libations that were causing my "reaction" any more than it was the effect of me, snagging the hottest girl in the room, and convincing her to dance with me. It was probably a lot of both, or all 5....or.......

Anyhow, at some point before the dance was over, "Barbarella" decided to ask me what my name was, and when I told her, as I made some feeble attempt to look her in the eyes, she immediately put both hands on my shoulders, shoved me backwards and repeated my name, my last name (which I never told her), and with a completely stunned look on her face she said "I'm Wendy, and we met at Tears for Fears" !

Now I will admit, that I pretended like I remembered all of that, but at the time, I could not place the name, or the face, to the girl at the concert, 5 years earlier. I must have looked like a complete idiot as I said something to the effect of "oh crap! Wendy! Oh my god! Are you kidding me?" as my eyeballs were bouncing up and down at about 140 beats per minute. I can only imagine what that would have looked like, to anyone who was actually paying attention... Wendy was not. She was smiling, stunned, happy, confused and wanted the story of the last 5 years of my life, truncated, right there on the dance floor. I, however, was having none of that, and convinced her that I was overheating, and that we should go out on the balcony and smoke a cig..... Cigs were still a thing back then... I have not smoked a cigarette in 24 years now.

Anyway, somehow, I, your basic, average dude, managed to pull off a slow dance, to a fast song, with a smoking hot blonde, in the hottest club in town at the time, and EVERY friend I had in life back then was there to witness it. I became legend, on the spot. Wendy (Barbarella) and I, walked outside and smoked a few cigs, had a few more drinks, traded phone numbers, and had a date for dinner that Saturday night. To everyone else in the club, I was the local, average guy, who hit the freaking lottery.

Wendy and I had dinner that Saturday, and from that point forward, I don't think we have been apart for more than a couple of weeks at a time in 27 years. less than 3 months later we were living together, and 3 months later, she was pregnant. 2 or 3 months after that, we were in Vegas getting married, and the rest is history as they say.

Life has been an amazing journey with my wife. Together we have raised and home schooled our daughters, welcomed our now 4 year old granddaughter into the world, loved, disliked and made up with each other no fewer than a dozen times. I wouldn't trade my life with hers for any person on this planet. Not in a million years, because as I mentioned earlier in this introduction, I am wholly and completely convinced, that she is the ONLY woman on the face of the earth that can tolerate me. We only drink socially twice a year. Once at the Christmas party for my work and once at the wrap parties for the various shows I have done over the last nearly 3 decades together. Every now and again, when having dinner with family or friends, we will each have a drink, but our party days are LONG over. Wendy has never been "chemically" altered her entire life. She won't even take prescribed pain medication. She never has.

So, here I am. Just an average guy, with an amazing life, in an average town, in an average, upper/middle class neighborhood in Southern California. We can walk to the beach, make it to downtown LA in less than 30 minutes on an average day, and both of our kids live close by. We see them about once a week.

I am a little hesitant to post my real name right now, but I will warm up to this place eventually, and share more personal information as I learn to trust the place. I am actually a pretty private person, but I also realize that I have a lot to share, and learn, and that putting myself out there, is how it works.

My hobbies change a lot, but lately, I have been doing a lot of creative fabrication. Wendy and I have fallen in love with Steam Punk / Industrial Punk stuff. I have spent the last couple of months creating an Industrial Punk entertainment center that I plan on sharing with you. I have dozens and dozens of pictures of the entire process, and it is nearing completion as I write this.

Hopefully I get Steemit figured out and can learn from many of you, and share equally what I have learned in my 55 years on the planet. I am generally regarded as a happy guy with a good sense of humor. I hope I am able to convey that here, and experience some of the same from you.

P.S. The title of my post may be a little misleading at first as it is more a reference to my creative side. Hopefully it makes more sense as we go along.

Respectfully,

Scream.