Around 11 or 12 I stopped going to church. Finally some relief from the weekly perpetual boredom. Somehow I was able to stop going while Dad, Mom and my sisters went. I was given a choice finally. I chose not to go. And this is how I discovered Laurel and Hardy, the best comedy team of all time, in my opinion. So while the rest of the family was churching it I was watching Laurel and Hardy marathons on TV each Sunday morning. They were a scream and still are! They made me laugh. Their world of innocence and laughter took me right in. I could be a part of their world. Great stuff. Put me in a great mood. Then my Dad would come home from church and with a scowl on his face tell me I missed a good sermon or I missed this or I missed that. Every Sunday it seems I was reminded of what I was missing. Every Sunday it seems I thought he should stay home and watch Laurel and Hardy. Maybe he would be happier then. Maybe he would be happier with me then. I loved those Laurel and Hardy moments but did not like the time approaching for Dad to get home. Now I must at this point say my Dad was and is a good man, a very good man. But like the rest of us, not perfect. What I am writing about here is perceptions of a child based on long ago memories. They remain quite vivid though.
Always the introvert and without ceasing I was the antisocial person. As such I was attracted to others who were out of the mainstream of things. The freaks, the nerds, the intellectual snobs, the very obese person, the frighteningly skinny person, these were my friends. If another person was a loner I was attracted to them as a friend. As I too was a loner. And I did not have many friends. I still don't but that's another story. As a parenthetical thought I want to say here that my Dad and my relationship was probably saved as a result of his involvement in my life in Junior High when I became very good at table tennis. Won state and regional tournaments. He fully supported me in this and went to any lengths to make sure I made practice or tournaments or whatever. I quit hating him then. It was the first time I remember doing anything with him.
Anyway, on to high school where eventually girls entered the picture. Hubba hubba. The girl I lost my virginity to at the age of 15 also introduced me to cigarettes and pot. I had already tried drinking when I met her but did not care for it much(later on I would!). So I became a pothead. But I lived a double life. I dated both girls who smoked dope or did drugs and I dated the "straights". I tended to like the straights more. Funny. So I had freaky outcast friends and an interest in girls blooming. And I had a growing pot addiction during my junior year of high school. Met a girl named Cheryl and fell "in love". Dated her nearly two years with most of that time being a closet dope smoker. She didn't know or I didn't think so anyway. Because of her I started going back to church.
Her Dad was a deacon in the church. He was a nice guy albeit quiet type(which I greatly appreciated). I went to her church not only on Sunday mornings but Sunday and Wednesday evenings. Sometimes I went stoned to church with her. That was a real trip. I remember occasionally looking around at the people sitting in pews and wondering if I was enjoying myself more than anyone else there? All I needed would have been some Laurel and Hardy to accompany the high. But at any rate I found myself a church goer several times a week.
My parents were happy about it even though it was the Church Of Christ. Any church I went to was better than none in their book. I went only because of Cheryl in the beginning but found myself listening after awhile. I was fascinated by the fact that the church really seemed to study the Bible and do so in depth. Some of the conservative stuff I was not so sure about but something intrigued me. I found myself beginning to have an actual yearning for God for really the very first time in my life.
At this point I was in trouble with pot. No matter how much I wanted to I could not stop smoking it. I went through a few ounces a week which was not cheap back then. To support my expensive habit I decided to deal it. Make money and get my stash for free. What a deal! A deal it was until my parents caught me. Until they threw out hundreds of dollars worth of pot. Suddenly I had no pot, no money and was grounded. Stopped in my tracks my mind became clearer and I thought more and more about God. What a messed up life I had been living! How could I have become a dealer? What was I doing to my life? What was wrong with me? Maybe it was time to take a real look at God. Maybe God could help. Maybe. Enter God here.
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