Ramblings Of A Man Named Joseph Carro

Posts tagged “Childhood Story

My Friend Mikey

Posted on December 5, 2018

Sometimes, I think back about friends I had who are no longer with me. This doesn’t have to have anything to do with death, mind you. Sometimes, as people, we just outgrow each other. You move, you go to different schools, you get married. Those kinds of things happen and are pretty inevitable in life. One of these friends I had who fits into this category was named Mike. We all knew him affectionately as Mikey. We met one summer when my mom moved us to Shawmut Street in Lewiston, Maine. We lived in a crappy apartment, infested with fleas and in a bad part of town at the time. We didn’t notice much of that as children, though, only remembering it when we…

Excelsior: My Tribute To Stan Lee

Posted on November 13, 2018

*Artwork by me.   I don’t have any photos with Stan Lee. I was never lucky enough to meet the man in real life – So, on top of that, I also don’t have any touching anecdotes about how I met him in an elevator once, or how I sat down next to him at a convention, or anything else I’ve been grateful to read about him on the day of his death. Stan Lee never encountered me once during the 95 years he roamed our Earth – he didn’t know I even existed. And yet the mark he left on me was indelible, and though he didn’t know I existed – he knew lots of people LIKE me. I was an archetype in…

The Barn

Posted on October 18, 2018

I remember the time when we lived in the big barn in the woods. We slept up in the hayloft with a small black and white television that constantly played old Abbot and Costello movies. We all went to the bathroom in a giant bucket when we needed to, and I remember the cold morning I urinated on a drowned lunar moth – its wings spread across the liquid human waste in a sad parody of flight. I felt sorry for it, even though I was simultaneously scared of its size. Many of my mornings there were spent in a dirty van that smelled of carved wood, of burned wood, of cigarettes and cigars and cheap beer. The metal floor was covered in sawdust.…

My First Girlfriend

Posted on August 13, 2018

The first time I saw Becky Dearborn, I was very intrigued by her. She wore a school uniform, which consisted of a long, muted-in-color tartan or plaid skirt, knee-high stockings, shiny black shoes, and a clean white blouse. She wore an accompanying tie which sometimes varied in color during later times I would see her. Her hair was close-cropped and done up in a bob style, and to top things off she wore a black choker around her neck. She reminded me of Natalie Portman as Mathilda in the movie Leon: The Professional. I’d been swimming at the local pool with my best friend Tom when his girlfriend Sarah showed up. Sarah was gorgeous – with long, curly blonde hair and what I thought…

The Comics

Posted on August 5, 2018

“Then how come Spider-Man has a black suit, but he’s also got a red and blue one? There’s gotta’ be two different guys. Why would he have two suits? That’s stupid.” One of my cousins, Jimmy, posed this question to me as my other two cousins, Eddie and Chris, flanked him on either side. They all looked irritated. I was only seven years old at the time and was visiting my cousin’s house with my mother. My cousins lived in a rural town here in Maine called Dixfield – on a farm with no running water. Every morning, we had to fetch cold water from the creek in plastic buckets and haul them back to the house before we fed the animals. My mother…

The Kittens.

Posted on March 23, 2018

I was ten years old, and we were living in a run-down apartment building on River Street in Lewiston, Maine. The place was crawling with roaches. It stunk of piss and old beer and cigarettes, but for the first time in my life – I had my own apartment. Technically, it belonged to my mom – but for some reason, we had a deal on the two apartments on the top floor and my brother Gary and I slept in one all by ourselves, while my mom had the other one with my sister Monika, and our youngest brother, Chad. It was an odd arrangement, and sometimes we took advantage of the privacy and brought back things we stole from convenience stores. We were…

The Babysitter

Posted on October 10, 2015

Back when I was younger, my siblings and I had a difficult time with our home lives. Our mother was often away with friends partying, or off somewhere else – so often that we always had a babysitter of some sort around. Some of the babysitters weren’t bad, or were our own relatives (like one of our uncles who babysat us sometimes) but some of them were downright sadistic or unconcerned with watching a handful of bratty kids. One of these babysitters, his name was Bill. He was a pretty nice guy, actually – when he was sober. I’m not quite sure how or where my mom met him, or why she decided he’d be a good man to watch her children. He was…