Friday, March 14, 2008

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Have you known someone that will never be written about in a history book, but made a profound difference in your life, or the lives of others?  A nobody that was a real somebody?  This is the place to tell their story.  Your submission will be reviewed and appear within a day or two.
 

Paul
He was the youngest of seven children.  His mother, who immigrated from Germany to America with her family as a child around 1900, was as flexible as an iron pipe.  His father, gregarious, bright and artistically talented, knew some modest business success as a young man, but never lived up to the potential most people felt he possessed.  At minimum, the capacity to remain sober for longer than a few weeks at a time.

Like his mother and sisters, Paul was compulsively methodical.  Like his father and two brothers, Paul was likable, artistically talented and a lifelong alcoholic.

His first marriage produced two children and ended in divorce.  His second marriage produced one child and lasted for the remainder of his life.

The second marriage was a poor man's version of Maggie and Jiggs.  Paul's wife Maribelle spent money beyond their means and Paul grumbled.  Never too loudly.  Maribelle's spending was a favorite reason for drinking. 

The problem with Maribelle was that she earned as much, some years more, than Paul did in his small business.  For 35 years she toiled on a factory assembly line.  And she had no vices he could point to; she didn't smoke, drink, crave clothing or jewels.

Paul, on the other hand spent 60-70 hours a week at his shop, half in conversation with visiting friends.  It was a rare day that didn't bring two or three Regulars.  Most were in sales and had flexible schedules, with time to kill between appointments.  They stopped in to use the restroom, chew the fat, have a drink.  Some kept bottles there, others paid into a kitty, others brought a six pack.  They didn't stay long, but 3-4 hours of Paul's day were taken up with entertaining his guests.  Paul didn't see it as a waste of time.  The regulars sent work his way sometimes.  Paul never made a connection between the stack of unanswered quotations on his desk and the parade of visitors.

As the years passed, Paul's service declined and so did the number of customers.  When technology changes threatened his industry, he didn't have the money to adapt.  In Paul's mind it was Maribelle's fault, for making him go on cruises and buy new living room furniture. 

Maribelle believed that Paul was killing himself, working all those hours.  She didn't notice that he came home drunk every night.  Maintaining the appearance of living the American dream was vitally important to Maribelle, consuming most of her thoughts.  Like how to come up with the money to go with their friends to Hawaii.  Paul said they couldn't afford it, but Paul always said that.  The man was an impossible pessimist.

One of their children put himself through trade school, became alcoholic, got sober, became a successful business person.  Another inherited his father's artistic skills and alcohol addiction.  A third has been in college for 3 decades.

Paul died several years ago.  One of his children remembers him as strong and dependable.  Another as weak and cowardly.  All four remember him with affection and each has memories of special times.  Maribelle is proud that they visited all 50 states.

No great deeds or accomplishments, not good or bad, just an imperfect human, like most of us.