December 28, 2024
Hello,
It’s me, Rod! I usually go by “Eddie” but a sister gave me this nickname when I was younger, and it stuck. I finished an autobiography on Labor Day of 2023. I hoped to send physical hard cover copies to about 15 – 20 friends and family members by Christmas that year. As things turned out, my life became chaotic. I lived in hotels, AirBnb rooms, and I slept in my car on occasion. Work wasn’t steady, either, which complicated things. I did give a few physical copies away, but it wasn’t as much as I wanted. It remained a goal to complete the task this Christmas in 2024. I partially succeeded. Though my life remained topsy turvy, I learned to develop websites, and I learned to upload my work onto sites I owned. I distributed links to PDFs. It’s the best I could do, and I’m pretty happy.
Let’s keep in mind what the “jumble” autobiography turned out to be:
- Rod… an honest account of my life
- Vegas… social commentary
- Blunder… fictional autobiography
I had a rocky relationship with my dad in 2019. That’s when this project began. I wrote Blunder as fiction from the perspective of Braden Callypso, but the themes, emotions, and attitudes were all real enough. I wanted a better relationship with my dad, I gave him copies of Blunder as it was being written, and I hoped we could work through some issues.
Things didn’t get better. As a matter of fact, right before Thanksgiving of 2019, things got worse. They got so bad that I moved away to Seattle to start a new life. That’s when I decided to write a real, non-fiction autobiography because beating around the bush wasn’t cutting it. The result was Rod. Through it all, I became involved in conspiracy theory forums. My social commentary became the basis of Vegas. So this “jumble of stories” became a three-part book.
I finished writing on Labor Day of 2023. That was a self-imposed deadline. The only way I could remain on schedule to distribute my writing before Christmas was to cut myself off. I had a lot more to say, though. I still have my notes, and I immediately planned Rod II. That is what you are reading right now. I like to write books, and I like to give away physical copies… but I learned there are other, effective ways to tell a story. I learned to launch websites with relative ease, and I can give away my work electronically very, very easily. I can embed videos, music, and pictures. I can provide hyperlinks to other pages.
I’m writing right now in the sweet spot of the holiday season. Christmas passed a few days ago, and New Years is coming up. Rod II is underway. Rod I dealt with issues with my dad, and that side of the family. Rod II will deal with my mom’s side.
On my dad’s side, my grandfather Henry passed away in 1994. He was well-loved and had five children. We went to a wake at my aunt’s house. It felt cheerful, even though we lost someone dear to us. I remember my cousin Annette saying, “Now that grandpa is gone, does it mean we’re still going to stay together as a family?” It was something along those lines. She continued, “I mean because we got together because of him for Christmas and his birthday.”
I thought it was odd what she said. “Of course we’re going to stay together! Why would we not?” I didn’t say this aloud, but I was thinking it and it remained with me for thirty years.
My mom passed away in 2002. She was well-loved as well. I have three older sisters. The oldest two come from a different father than me and the youngest sister. In Rod I, I call them Marcia, Jan, and Cindy because I chose to disguise names. I always, always, always considered my two oldest sisters as full-blood sisters even though we had different dads. It was a complete family. On my dad’s side, Annette was right for inferring we might split apart. By 1998, it seemed there were significant fissures in the family structure. On my mom’s side, we lasted longer. I took off to live in Seattle in 2019. By Christmas of 2020, I had come back to Southern California. Things felt okay, but something was missing. The youngest of my sisters wasn’t around. She had a falling out with a few people. I stayed in touch with her, but I never saw all three of my sisters together again at the same place, same time. As time went on, I started feeling pushed out as well. Within twelve hours of distributing Jumble through email to a few family members on Labor Day weekend of 2023, I had a massive incident with the niece who I was living with in the High Desert. I spoke to the oldest sister on the phone, and I knew things would never be the same. I wasn’t angry with her, but I said ominous things, “If we never speak again, I want to let you know I loved you guys and it was real.” This is a summary of things, but I started to feel like I became the villain within the group. A week later, I packed up my things in my car, and I moved out.
There are times when we experience emotional pain. In spite of the pain, it feels like some people kick us when we’re down. “Either they don’t know, or they don’t care,” is what goes through our heads. Of course, like the Howard Jones song, sometimes no one is to blame. Sometimes it’s a circumstance. Sometimes, we have to realize things run a course, then they fade or expire. Everything in life has a shelf life.
I’m sad that I don’t see my dad’s side of the family anymore. I had cousins I liked to genuinely be around. As for my dad, I don’t miss him. It’s sad, but I don’t. When I’m in a mood to make excuses for him, I tell myself he had a defective, self-defeating personality. I wrote in Rod I about his history. My mother, my step-mom, me, and my youngest sister wound up feeling crazy after spending lengthy times around him. He had a pattern of controlling and manipulating. It wouldn’t happen over night, but in all cases, we would lose our friends and other contacts. He would forbid people to come around. He gaslighted, and I was never sure if he was doing it on purpose. There was a straw that broke the camel’s back, and when it happened, I took off to live in Seattle without telling him I was leaving.
My mom’s side of the family had a deteriorating phenomenon as well. I didn’t expect it. In a nutshell, I always, always, always felt like a guest of honor whenever I visited as a teen and young adult. The charm of childhood naturally wears off, and being a “regular guy” was fine with me as I reached my thirties and forties. Since I returned from Seattle, it got worse. I started to feel like persona non grata. Not by everyone, but by enough people. Some of them knew me since I was in diapers, and they used to treat me well. In recent years, I would show up to a party and they would avert eye contact and ignore me.
I have a lot to tell. Rod II is my most recent project. I talked to my two oldest sisters on Christmas day through text message. I gave them copies this site:
rod-autobiography.xyz
This site has significant personal news, and it has nostalgic pictures and music. Things felt flat. I don’t know if I should be surprised. I have a lot of notes for this project, and I know for sure I’ll get to certain talking points, but I otherwise don’t know how this Rod II project is going to wind up. Will I print it as a hard cover like I did the last one? I don’t know. What will my conclusion be? I don’t know. Will there be a fictional element at the end? I’m not sure.
If you’re a friend of family member and you’re reading this now, I’m trying to assure everyone that I’m not bitter. I’m not angry. I’ve been thinking about the five stages of grief (DABDA) these past couple of weeks:
- D… is for denial
- A… is for anger
- B… is for bargaining
- D… is for depression
- A… is for acceptance
Since Thanksgiving, I’ve had three different people blow up at me. All three happen to be female, by the way. It came as a shock in each moment that it happened, but not as much of a surprise as the weeks continued on. Something is changing in our world. It’s not just me growing older. Politics, for example, is tearing people apart. When I think back on the anger which was channeled in my direction, I think about grief others are feeling. I went through it. I was angry. I yelled at people. I went through bargaining after the anger was done, and I finally arrived at acceptance. Life will never be what it was. I didn’t want certain relationships to fall apart, but they did.
I’ve always been fascinated with the phenomenon of voids. I think younger people have a harder time with it, and they experience more anxiety. I’ve come to find, after experiencing this over and over, that voids are filled. Someone will come into your life. Ten years ago, when my relationship with my dad was crap, I met a girl online who helped me through tough times. I’m currently feeling some relationships fade, most likely permanently. I’m not sad, like I used to be. Depression is the fourth stage of DABDA. I’m okay with life. I sit here, I think of good times I had with loved-ones, and I feel warmth. We weren’t meant to stay with each other physically for all time.
“Should old acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should old acquaintance be forgot
In the days of auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We’ll drink a cup of kindness yet
For the sake of auld lang syne…”
Millions of people will get drunk and sing this together. On Tuesday, as midnight approaches, loved-ones will be gathered together, and they will be thinking of people not in the room with them. When I was a kid, I liked this song mostly because of the melody. It’s funny how we grow older and art changes its meaning to us. I think about old acquaintances. I think about other people. On Wednesday morning, millions will be hung over and they’ll start working on their New Years resolutions. They’ll watch college football. They’ll go about their lives.
I’m okay with things. I’ve reached a good level of acceptance. I have someone new, by the way. Just like a mysterious someone helped me through tough times, ten years ago, I have someone that’s helping me now. So if you’re someone I know, I wish you the best. Who knows? Maybe we go to a baseball game at some point in the future? Maybe we meet up at an Applebee’s. But if you’re a stranger, maybe you’re going through this as well. I’m helping to fill a void in your life, and if I didn’t believe you were out, I wouldn’t have written this to begin with. I’ll work on this Rod II project. Destination? Unknown.
— Eddie “Rod” Corona