Hey Creason...get a hard-on and I'll ring ya'!

 Hey Creason...get a hard-on and I'll ring ya'!


No warning since this really is not about a sexual situation





     This goes back to South Gate lore and my depression generation father's idea of making men out of his sons. My poor brother who bore the brunt of most of my domineering Dad's over the top insistance that we be tough and strong was the victim. BC did not have much faith in book-learning despite Stephen's exceptional brain and drive to succeed. Since there was one gay man in the family that BC had to help out he feared his boys might be too weak to kick the hard, cold world's ass. He frequently forced us to do things we hated because it would toughen us up or teach us the value of a dollar. I was much wimpier and less brave than my big brother but observed some of his suffering with forboding. Stephen was forced before me to go sell  programs at the Coliseum where you would be guaranteed to get beat up sometimes by poor black kids who really needed the money. He developed strategies that I was actually afraid to try, thus getting my little white butt kicked a few times more when resistance might have worked in my favor. Anyway, both of us were late bloomers physically and in sports we could use coordination and skill to overcome a lack of size but out in the adult world things did not work like that. So, it was Summer time and the young teen brother was forced to take a job on a construction crew with no one to protect him or oversee his role in this operation. His fellow crew members were uneducated manual laborers with the muscles of full-grown men and the manners of beasts. Stephen tried to keep up but his scrawny un-developed body was no match for these meatheads who tormented the kid and made him the butt of their coarse jokes. At one point that were installing large metal O rings on a building and one of the clever gentlemen held one up and shouted to Stephen "Hey Creason...get a hard-on and I'll ring you!" Big brother came home and repeated the phrase which I told to Greg years later and he was utterly delighted. Sometimes out of nowhere he might shout the words in a gruff construction workers voice to get a laugh. Back in that Summer of suffering for Stephen he got the 4th of July off from the job, came home and slept for 24 hours straight due to his complete exhaustion. There was no sympathy from the old man who probably never lifted shovel in his entire life. All part of growing up in the Gate.



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