Memoirs of a Life of Confusion

By Matt Lashley

Looking back at my life, I can sum it all up in a single word: confusion. The only thing that is clear to me is that I never understood what the hell was going on.

I decided for the sake of my children that I would write down the story of my life. But as I reflected on everything that has happened to me and everything I have done, there was a common thread connecting all the events that transpired. I was always confused. For this reason I decided to ignore a chronological story and simply organize some of the highlights of my experiences by various categories of confusion.

I have written about events that have confused me in childhood, family meals, school, religion, reality, language, parenting, hindsight, and as an adult.

Granted, some of the things that confused me as a child, I now understand - sort of. And there are a few things I might understand if I wanted to do some research, but this doesn't change the experience of bewilderment in situations that were seemingly normal to most other people.

Memoirs of a Life of Confusion is a light read that I hope will bring a smile to your face, and maybe brighten your day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Teela Books
• Release date: Sep 30, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393177791

Book preview

Confusion in Childhood

The Coyote Never Wins!

I used to watch the Road Runner cartoons on Saturday morning. Although I loved the cartoon, it was with great frustration that the Coyote never won. Nobody explained to me that the Coyote never won, not in the past nor ever in the future. I was under the impression that the Coyote would defeat the Road Runner occasionally. So I would tune in on Saturday in the hope that this was going to be the day the Road Runner would finally get what was coming to him. Of course, it never happened, and it was a constant source of confusion.

I suppose, if someone were to have explained to me what the cartoon was all about, I would have stopped watching it. I liked the Coyote. He was always coming up with new ideas. Part scientist, part engineer, the Coyote was someone to emulate. The Road Runner was just a smart ass. It took me years to become aware of the fact that there were a large number of people in the world that love a smart ass.  Not only that, but the Road Runner was a bird ... a stinking bird! I ate birds for dinner, such as turkey and chicken. A coyote was like a dog. I had a pet dog. I loved my dog. 

What Happened to Pogy?

When I was very little, no more than three years old, I had an imaginary playmate. I called him Pogy. My mother used to set out a second bowl of cereal in the morning, so Pogy could eat breakfast with me. I was an only child at that point in my life. I remember Pogy. I liked him. He was my best friend. I don't remember what happened to him. According to my mother, he went away after my sister was born. She told me because I had a sister, I no longer needed an imaginary playmate. But there is another possibility. My sister killed Pogy.

It's in Color!

When I was around four years old, my mother wanted me to watch this movie on television called The Wizard of Oz. She really hyped it up as if it was the best thing that ever was shown on television. In the scene where the house hit the ground and the tornado went away, my mother ran up to me and said: Pay attention! Are you looking?

Here it comes! Here it comes! she shouted.

Dorthy opens the door, and everything changes from black and white into color.

See? She asked. It was in black and white and, now it's in color! she said as she nudged me with her elbow.

I was confused. Why the change? How come it wasn't in color from the start?

I didn't mind black and white. In the next few years, all television would be in color, at least the new shows in the evening. But every show was black and white or color. Here was a movie that was both. It didn't make any sense to me. Apparently, it was a big deal for my mother.

It's funny looking back because my daughter when she was in her preschool years refused to watch any television show that was in black and white. My mother would have needed to explain to my daughter to be patient, it will be in color soon.

Look Out for the Yippies

It was the summer of 1968. I had finished the first grade and would be starting the second grade in just a few weeks. We were living on a Navy base, north of Chicago, in a city called Glenview. We lived near the railroad tracks. Naturally, because it was a military base, there was a large fence that separated the base from the railroad tracks. I distinctly remember my mother telling me that summer to stay away from the fence, or the Yippies would get me. I wasn't quite sure what they would do to me if they caught me nor was it clear what a Yippie was. I wasn't even sure what they looked like. 

One day, I was riding my bike in the corner of the base. A place we kids called The Dump. There was nothing but tall weeds, but there was also a worn trail from bikes being ridden towards the corner, and then turning right, which led to an open field area. Traveling this path was scary for a little kid. The vegetation was tall, and you could hear the sounds of insects, especially locusts. There was also the chance that a snake would appear on the trail. But I knew there was a hole in the corner of the chain linked fence, so I went looking for Yippies.

Sure enough, there was a man with a blue, long sleeve shirt with polka dots. Along with his faded blue jeans, he had large bushy black hair and a beard. He was half way through the hole in the fence and was looking around as if to figure out where he was. I knew it was a Yippie. He saw me, and I turned my bike around, peddling as