Head Banging

My biological father is an alcoholic. Well, I assume he is still an alcoholic. I haven't seen him since I was 17. He used to pick up my sister and me for weekend visitations on Saturday mornings. He would take us to the local Moose Lodge, where we would play, while he did whatever it was he did, until he had enough. Then he would take us to my grandmother's house for the remainder of the weekend.

No one else was ever at the Moose when we were there. He had a key, and we were the only ones present. At 6,7,8 years old, I thought it was pretty cool. He would open the coin box to that machine that lets you try to get stuffed animals with a crane, and we had free reign on the toys inside. We ate cheezies and drank pop, played pool and ran around like we owned the place. It wasn't until later in my life that I realized how inappropriate it really was.

One time, he must have had a pretty bad hangover. I remember sitting at the bar, eating a bag of snyder potato chips. He was on the other side, pouring us a fountain drink and all of a sudden, he bent over and slammed his head several times off of the counter. My father is not a small man, and he was at that time a strong man too. It scared me. I can still picture it like it happened yesterday. I could not in a million years understand why someone would slam his head so violently against the counter.

I can now.

No, I don't have a hangover. And no, I don't plan on slamming my head against anything intentionally, ever. But with these stupid headaches, I can honestly say that I completely understand why he did that. Thankfully I did not inherit his sense of logic, but I must admit that the thought of hitting my forehead with a hammer, albeit fleeting, has crossed my mind more than once recently.