Cracked 5 … April 5th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog


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History As Remembered in the Mind of a Millennial

A. Abraham Lincoln won World War II and freed the slaves from the Eiffel Tower, where they were held hostage by Hitler and the Ku Klux Klan.


B. The Beatles came with the British Invasion, causing Benjamin Franklin to write the Declaration of Independence, which ushered in the Grammy Awards.


C. When the Viets attacked, Richard Nixon opened the Watergate to drown the Nams and save Woodstock.


D. The Pilgrims brought turkeys from their boat to feed the starving Indians at the Plymouth Rock Festival.


E. Two guys built an airplane and they did it so well that people called them the “Right Brothers.”

Plymouth Rock Festival

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Confessing … July 11th, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog



I confess so I can heal.

If I deny, I remain sick.

Her name was Sherry.

She lived ten miles from my home town. She liked me.

I knew this–the way an eighteen-year-old boy is aware that a girl is attracted to him because she’s awkward and nervous, while still persisting in hanging around.

I met her from Bible League. Bible League is a little hard to explain, but just envision Jeopardy! on scriptural steroids. I competed against her church and we struck up a conversation a time or two, and she made it clear that she was very interested in me by listening to my stories long after they possessed any intrigue.

I got my girlfriend pregnant my senior year in high school. Being good Ohio boys and girls, we decided to get married. She went off to Europe on a summer vacation and never wrote me.

This was not the plan. Of course, I was convinced she was carousing with every young French boy who knew where the back stairs were to the Eiffel Tower. I was upset.

I was moping around the house one day when my brother suggested I invite another girl on a date just to get my mind off of it. It seemed unfaithful, but when he offered his car and twenty dollars for the excursion, all my defenses broke down.

So I thought of Sherry. I was not in the mood to ask a girl out and get a no, and I was fully aware that she would say yes. She did. Matter of fact, it was an enthusiastic affirmative.

I got directions to her house–a long driveway leading back to a beat-up mobile home surrounded by trash and enough dogs for a junk yard.

We got in the car, went on the date, and she tried so hard to be perfect. Matter of fact, we ended up parking somewhere and necking for a while.

But it was romance by default and affection by revenge. I knew I was never going to be interested in Sherry.

She seemed oblivious to my indifference and shared her life story with me. She was poor, mistreated and even abused by her alcoholic father.

Damn. I should have cared.

I didn’t. I was smarting from my own little crisis.

About halfway through the date she made it clear that she wanted to see me again, and also sent out a signal that she was prepared to go further romantically on this date if I was interested.

I wasn’t interested, and fortunately, didn’t take advantage of her.

As I dropped her off, I kissed her goodnight, knowing that I would never see her again.

One week later I received a letter from her in the mail, sharing how much she had enjoyed our time and hoping that her vulnerability and living situation had not been a turnoff to me.

I didn’t respond.

Sherry deserved so much more than my selfish leaping into a fling. She was wounded and I accidentally dribbled some salt water into it.

I wasn’t vicious. I wasn’t unloving. But I was one of the worst possible additions to her life. In her mind’s eye I was a nice boy who took her out on a date and never called again, proving to her that she was just white trash.

I don’t know what became of Sherry, but I learned very clearly that night, that a temporary need or a piercing yearning does not give us permission to use another person to comfort our woes.

confessing trailer home

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Untotaled: Stepping 55 (June 15th, 1970) Preaching to the Choir… February 21, 2015

Jonathots Daily Blog




The Buckeye Teen Chorale.

It was a hand-selected group of singers from high schools across the state of Ohio who got together to perform for special events, and then culminated and confirmed their purpose with a three-week tour of Europe.

My girlfriend was one of the members.

After the prom things got really bad with her parents. Her father decided to spy on us and in so doing got quite an eye-full one night. So she was forbidden to see me and we had to plan clandestine rendezvous in order to fulfill our love and satisfy our lust.

So one weekend, when she was scheduled to be at the Ohio State Fairgrounds for rehearsals with the chorale, she and I made plans to skip out on the event and spend the weekend together goofing off and enjoying each other.

Of course, as I look back now, it sounds like the most ridiculous idea ever conceived–because we certainly would get caught and then things would be worse than they were before.

We were. And they were. Caught. And things worse than they were before.

Her parents were hoping that since there were only eight days left before the trip to Europe that they could control her environment and keep me out of the situation. But by night I crawled on my stomach through their horse pasture and she met me in the barn with the finesse and subtlety of a Shakespearean tragedy.

She promised she would write me every day from Europe, and in so doing, we would figure out what we were going to do next.

For the entire twenty-one days she was gone, I kept going to the post office to retrieve one of her notes, only to have my hopes dashed daily with no correspondence.

My mind went crazy. I figured she had met somebody on the trip–that she had found romance near the Eiffel Tower.

When she returned she went to her girlfriend’s house. I picked her up and we escaped to a nearby cemetery. She explained that she was scared she would be caught writing me, and that was why she failed to communicate.

It was in the midst of those tombstones that I proposed marriage to this woman who was carrying our child. And we made a covenant that on her birthday–August 25th–she would fly back to be with me.

For you see, her parents had decided to retire in Mexico while she attended The University of Arizona.

It was a great notion.

I tried to prepare for the five weeks before I would see her again. August 25th seemed a lifetime away.

And it seemed that my lifetime was contingent on August 25th.

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