I don't remember much when we were kids. He was the oldest child in the family. I know he was a Boy Scout. I heard he didn't like it but my Father was a Scout Master so he really had no choice. They went to Philmont Scout Ranch once. The newspaper came in the back yard and took their photo before they left for the trip. It seemed like a big deal. He was on the JHS swim team. He played Tuba in the JHS marching band. He used to practice his part at home and we teased him because it wasn't really a tune. It sounded more like a Moose farting. He didn't really like the Princeton haircuts that my parents gave him. He might have mowed the lawn once in a while. I think he was a paper boy.
He mostly chilled out in the Lazy-Boy chair and watched TV. He watched shows that I had no interest in at the time. Three Stooges, Science Fiction movies, Mission Impossible Car 54 where are you?, Hogan's Heroes and Daniel Boone. Matter of fact he had a Coon skin cap. I wanted to watch shows like Leave it to Beaver and Please don't eat the daisies. Back then there was no remote control. You had to get up to change the channel but if he was in the room we watched what he wanted. There was only one TV in the house.
His musical interests were varied and a little more mature than mine. His music pretty much drove me crazy. The one I remember most was Frank Zappa. He also listened to Country Joe and the Fish. I bet he liked whoever was at Woodstock. That was his era. He was a Hippie of sorts. Just a couple of years ago I was told, by one of his old friends, that my music drove him crazy too. I played Elton John real loud ...over and over and over.
He bought a car before he had a drivers license. It was an old classic Austin Healey. It was green. He kept it in the garage and worked on it. I always told him it looked like a frog. Because he had no license yet he would just drive it up and down the driveway. Back and forth. I thought it was funny that he could not leave the driveway.
My memory starts to get a little more clear when he moved into the basement. What a move was that! How cool. Your own space away from parents. There was a pool table down there. Posters on the walls, incense burning, ashtrays. It was teenage Heaven. I wanted to be down there. After all the basement rec room was used by all to entertain friends until he moved an old couch down there to sleep on. He really didn't like me down there. Most the time he would tolerate me for a half hour or so then get up off the couch and grab one of his nasty Frito smelling socks and shove it down my throat. I would leave. Didn't want to but that wasn't much fun. Once in a while I would go down to visit and some of his friends would be over. They were so stoned. I did not know what stoned was but they put me to work rolling a joint or two for them. They taught me how. How cool was that. It was 1970. I guess you had to be there.
Next thing I know he announced that he was moving to California. Wow. Really? California? I guess he worked at a gas station and he sent home a couple photos from there. I think he came back and moved into the basement again. Not sure. It is kinda faint.
He moved into an apartment next. My Mom owned the building on Michigan Ave. He let me visit once in a while. I heard recently that there was some really good parties there. I do remember going there with my Mom once because she suspected him smoking pot. She looked through his drawers. She found some. She went home and called the police to report that he had Marijuana. I do not know what ever happened with all that.
I might get some of the time line screwed up but I think he moved to Arizona next. He just up and left. Might have had something to do with the police report. Not sure. The story goes that he called up one of his old girlfriends and asked her to come be with him down there. Late 70's. She agreed. He had a vasectomy before she got there. Never to have children. They got married in 1977 at 7pm with 7 people in the wedding on the 7th day of the 7th month at the edge of the Grand Canyon. No one in the family was invited.
He got his own apartment building in the disbursement of my Grandmother's property so he came back to Jackson. My Grandmother had not passed away yet but had Alzheimers and was in a care home. My Mother was deciding who got what. I went there to visit him quite a few times.It was just a block up from where I lived. We usually played Trivial Pursuit. It was a popular game then. Just out on the market. He liked to play it because he was an avid reader and always won. He was the front desk clerk at the new Sheraton Inn in downtown Jackson. There was no caller ID then and a few times I would call him up and he would answer the phone like Richard Nixon or various other movie stars or politicians. While he was living there he called me up to pick my brain. He knew my husband was making money on the side doing various things. He wanted to ask me what I think he could do to make money. I had just read an article in the paper about a new class at JCC for clowns. I forgot to tell you that the best asset that he possessed was his sense of humor. He was pretty crazy and really funny. He latched right on to that idea and went to clown classes.
He created his own clown personality. It was Capt. Squint. He learned to juggle and make balloon animals. He started entertaining kids. I remember once he came down and did his thing for my son's birthday party. It was a big deal. He found his calling. He was pretty good at it.
Right when he was forming the face make up he invited me over to his apt. to see how he did it. I was sitting at his kitchen table so proud of him and what I had directed him into. He was almost done with the final look and a knock came at the back door. It was the lady next door. He had no phone so she came to bring him a message from family. My Mother had just passed away. The neighbor left and we sat back down and he asked me if I thought he should remove the clown make up before he went to be with her. Yes, I think that might be best.
I had three sons by now and even though he entertained kids for money he really did not like the sound of Hot Wheels in his driveway. He wanted me to keep them away. He liked quiet. So did his wife. He also refused to ever babysit until they turned 18.
Well, he hung out in that building that he was given until my Grandmother passed away. He put the building up for sale and sold it pretty quick. What he didn't know was that house still had a $12,000 bank loan on it. He never bothered to check. The estate was still making the payments. At the closing he was told that he could sell it but he had to pay the loan off first, off the top. He wanted out of town now, so he agreed. A few months later he hired a Jackson lawyer and took the rest of us to court for our share of his loss. We all got an apartment building for free with no loans and because it was all supposed to be dispersed equally, he figured we all owed him $3000. The three of us go to probate court and his lawyer explained it to us. I was thinking BULL SHIT. His lawyer took us out in the hall and explained that if we all argue there won't be anything left in the estate (cash wise) because the lawyers would get all of it. So, we all went back in and agreed to pay him. I had no clue how that was going to happen on my part. I was the only one that was trying to feed three kids. He kept hounding me for the $3000. I finally called him and said that isn't going to happen. I did however offer to make him a new clown costume. I suggested that he send me a drawing of what he wanted. He never sent it. I can't make shit up. So, I never paid him. The building he got was way nicer than mine anyway.
He has lived in Arizona since then. He came back once in the last 30 years. It was to attend his wife's parents 50th anniversary party down at St. Marys and then PJ's for the after party. We chatted some. He sat there for a couple of hours in PJ's making balloon animals and flowers. The entire 20ft table where everyone was, was covered with balloons. It was getting kinda full and I knew others in the room so I got up and took some balloon flowers to a couple gals that I knew across the room. When I got back he asked me if I really was a lesbian. He was thinking I might be.
He was staying up the street on that visit and in the morning, well Noon or so....I called up there and asked him if my sons could come up and say hi. They had not seen him in 10 or more years. He said, Not really. I said they really want to see you. He said his wife had a headache and did not want kids around. I said they are not little anymore. They are now 17-15 and 13. He still said no they were not interested in seeing them and they would be going back to Arizona in an hour or so and really needed to pack. That was the last I heard or seen of him. I really wasn't interested in communication at that point. I guess he wasn't either.
Fast forward to a few years ago, soon after I made a Facebook page. I got a message from a young man that asked me if I had a brother named ****. I said I did and he explained that he was his Son. I asked him to send me a photo and sure enough you can not deny that face. I no longer have the pleasure of a relationship with my own brother. It never really was great. I do miss his humor, his intelligence and his face. I have an even greater pleasure of getting to know his son that he won't acknowledge. It was such a joy to connect with him. He even visited me in person (from Texas) and introduced me to his sweet wife and their three lovely daughters. What makes Mike such a good Father is growing up knowing how it feels to not have one in his life. Love you Mike!!
Some things I will never understand and sometimes I feel ashamed that my last name is Jamieson.
