Birth day - Birth Mom

 On the eve of my birthday, I want to give thanks to the woman who carried me for 9 months of true hardship. 9 months that were physically, emotionally and psychologically straining and then she did one of the hardest things a woman will ever do; she gave her baby away.  She gave me away. 

She knew my life would be better with a different family and MAN OH MAN was she right (it's a long story, one that I have actually written a yet unpublished book). 

I don't have an earlier picture of myself than the one above.  The picture was taken the day my mom and dad brought me home at six months. 

Her life's testimony since is encouraging to many people, especially women.  Our story is one that encourages and has allowed me to speak to groups that minister to young women who are making tough decisions as they are carrying "unwanted" children.  My youngest son, Ethan, used our story in Uganda this past month as he ministered to pregnant teenage girls to encourage them.  

You see, as my all time favorite bumper sticker said: 'GOD DON'T MAKE JUNK!' with a picture of a little baby next to it. The picture above could have fit on that bumper sticker.

I am not, nor ever was a "mistake".  The circumstances surrounding my birth were in many ways horrible and tragic, but I WAS NO MISTAKE and neither are those unwed mother's babies!  I don't mean for my blog to be political or devisive in any way, but the most startling thing I found out the morning I met my birth mother was that she had tried to abort me, not once, but twice.  Her life circumstances were so desperate and hellish that she felt out of choices, so she desperately searched for a resolution that might help her preserve her life and those of her three children. 

I have never told the story about finding my birth mother without the person I am telling either crying and/or telling me to finish the book, you see, she isn't the same person she was when she carried me.  Ours is a story of hope, faith and grace. She has a faith in God that she is loved, forgiven and free of any guilt and I bear no ill feelings about the past. God had a plan for me then and he still does now. 
 

 She is my birth mother and the reason I can celebrate my birthdays in spite of her earlier tragic circumstances.  

My mom, the woman who raised me, used to tell me on my birthdays that there was a special woman out there who gave her one of her greatest gifts; me.  

My mom was thankful for her and so am I.   

Several days in a different part of the same country.

On a recent trip to small town TX (Wharton, population 9000ish near Houston), I noticed things you don't see back home in Colorado.  

The small things most people might not notice are those things I cultivate.  IF you are a writer, you know how that goes.  Here is a pictorial representation of things that speak of TX to me!  As weird as it sounds, one of my favorite things to do when I travel is to go to the local grocery store.  It is a place where the cultural and regional differences are displayed in a relatively small space and gives a tiny window into the things people in that area "take for granted" but seem a bit foreign to those outside! 

In TX the Mexican food is authentic and great, the BBQ is unmatched and great, the watermelons grow large and juicy and the cotton spreads out for miles in every direction.  The land is ironing board flat and the trees grow wildly. 

The accents are as thick as the humid air.  The people are very warm and friendly.  The frogs croak in a beautiful evening chorus and every so often a cooling breeze makes the evening charming.  

The buckle of the bible belt allows for free prayer (twice) at a graduation ceremony and NO ONE gets offended!  BIG POINTS FOR TX in this guy's opinion!

Humidity and heat out of this world in early June, cotton is high and that is why! Humidity and heat need one more ingredient to be awesome and that is OCEAN! 

I LOVE ZAPPS and have ordered them by
the case because they are not distributed in COLO.
In TX they are on the shelf.

     SO glad we don't need this in COLO!

 

Tortilla chips shaped like the LONE STAR STATE and a woman taking pictures of those chips...  Seems I'm not the only one who finds these local things interesting! ALL chips strips are shaped like Colorado!

Grits as common as any other regular hot cereal. One point for TX! Truth is they might be available at my local store... haven't checked lately.

 Monkey Brains????????????????????????????? Haven't had them, don't know what they are.

These coconut candies are good and so are the Mrs. Annie's Peanut Patches!

Fried Pork rinds in numerous kinds, great road trip grub, but it is negated by the lollipops that are layers of picante, salsa and other hot seasonings for nachos.  NOT how I want my suckers!

Weird candied fruit and cactus for your salad.  The tomatillo salsa at the restaurant we went to was OUTSTANDING!

Everything IS bigger in TX!  Check out that moth! 

Imagine hundreds, no thousands of those doing what miller moths do to your front porch light. 

My beautiful blond and our friends at the awesome local BBQ joint! One point for TX! TALLEY one for the friends and they are also from Colorado!

In the BBQ place, in a corner there is a turkey on a sewing machine base with a plastic fern and an American flag? Uh, WHAT?

My beauty playing an OLD pinball machine.

The merengue on these pies at the BBQ joint are as high as a Texas woman's hair.  

Strange greeter for a BBQ joint! The foods so good he's stuffed!

A guy wins the lottery and spends it to renovate the coolest motel in Wharton, TX. 

Some of the ladies trying the local CHICARONES (fried pork skin).

 An AWESOME young lady from up north gets her first shot at shooting a real life gun AND hits the target with most!

 So much fun!
 Old West style gun, kicks hard!

 That dude smoked the target!  Note our instructor, what a great guy to share his arsenal!

 My Clint Eastwood pose, gotta do it since we were shooting revolvers and saying... "Right now you're wondering did I shoot five bullets or six..."

 Michael poses for his Old West double barrel shot!

Spending time with good friends in TX makes it a great place to VISIT!  A howling coyote taking us to Colorado from TX and arriving in the evening with the cool air, humidity free Colorado!


Having friends for decades is the best part of the trip.  Michael, Donna, Stephanie, Heather and Smokey (you just go ahead and stay right there) WE love you and were so glad to be a part of your celebration as Stephanie graduated! 

Talley's it was awesome to get to know you better! So sorry Laurie has lost some of her senses, but you can overcome it!


Walter and Rae and Lira, always good to see you!  

GO ASK MOM IS COMING OUT AGAIN VERY SOON...

HALLOWEEN IS CLOSE, SO A SCARY STORY IS IN ORDER

Before I was a writer, I was a reader and the VERY BEST thing for me as a boy was MAD MAGAZINE. I was fortunate to have a mom who had one rule about room cleaning and that was "If your door is shut, I don't care how you keep it!" That meant Mom never ventured in to throw away my Hot Rod Cards or Mad Magazines, which are now stored safely in my basement. In 1974 I had the Mad Magazine (pictured here) which began quest. To see the movie it parodied. Being a Catholic boy, there was something very, very dangerous and delicious about pondering the evil potential within the story. I was SO scared of it, it was like a single lamp in the backyard that draws and destroys the moth who continually bangs against it. I HAD TO SEE IT! But Mom said "ABSOLUTELY NOT!" For you younger readers, please bear in mind that at this time our black and white television showed four channels and a test pattern of an Indian in a head dress. The point I was trying to make was that this was a much more innocent time, when there were NO slasher movies on tv, just the black and white Creature Features with The Werewolf, Dracula and The Attack of the Fifty Foot Woman. I have always loved scary stories and for some reason because October is the month of Halloween, I always watch scary movies during the month and read a book that is in the Horror genre.




So last night, after the lights were out in my house and everyone was in bed except me, I sneaked into my office and watched THE SCARIEST movie I have ever seen. It pulled me back to the year 1975, the year I was born. Ahem... okay, not exactly, but a year that would lodge itself in my memories because of ONE fateful night, and ONE fateful movie and ONE fateful error in judgment. It all came flooding back to me last night in such a real way that I literally know what it feels like to have the hair stand on end on the back of your neck.


First; the MORAL OF THE STORY - MOM IS ALWAYS RIGHT! The way to live a better, saner, fuller life - LISTEN TO MOM!

In 1975 I was a boy emerging into the decade of impending teenagedom. My parents were fairly, to be honest, really liberal and a bit lax in their parenting skills. Both were college professors and somehow the space they gave their students translated to the way they parented.

However, I must say it was an easier time. We ran in packs and no one messes with a pack of kids, especially in a then country neighborhood! No one was worried about a kid barely in his double digits staying out 'till two in the morning on a hot, summer night because everyone slept in their backyards (kids anyway)in the summer. There were a few rules of course: NO LAKE OR POND after dark (unless there were at least five of you together). No crossing the highway after dark! Stay off the railroad track after dark. SOMEHOW everything cool happened after dark and I wasn't supposed to have any of the fun.

I was sitting up in my tree house with a couple of my pals and down below us there were some teenagers (they didn't know we were up there.) They were smoking cigarettes and talking in loud whispers about how terrifying the movie they had seen the night before was. Blow by blow they talked about The Exorcist, which to that point I only knew about through the view of Mad Magazine. They talked about the scenes everyone who ever saw that movie has been unable to erase from their minds.

When the three teens jumped in their hot rod Mustang with a "Let's go see it again!" Me and my two buddies made a pact. We were going to go see it. We made a plan which would require us to break SO many rules. We knew our Moms would NEVER let us see the movie and that we would be grounded FOREVER if we walked down the highway at night, so we made an alternate plan, which would end up breaking even more rules.

The next night we would each tell our moms that we were sleeping in the other's backyard tent (FIRST BROKEN RULE, LYING). Then right before dark, since The Exorcist was the second feature and we didn't want to be spotted in daylight, we would head down the railroad track (SECOND BROKEN RULE, RAILROAD TRACK AND DARK)which would take us the threeish miles to the outdoor Drive-In Theater past a lake and a pond (THIRD BROKEN RULE, AFTER DARK BODY OF WATER) and then we would have to cross the highway (FOURTH BROKEN RULE, CROSSING THE HIGHWAY AT NIGHT) to sneak into the drive-in theater (FIFTH BROKEN RULE, STEALING BY NOT PAYING TO GET IN) Where we'd stand out in the middle of the gravel lot, next to the speakers and watch the forbidden movie (SIXTH BROKEN RULE, DIRECTLY IGNORING A SPECIFIC RULE MOM SET DOWN) We'd all been there before with our respective parents, but this time we were hoofin' it!

At the last minute one of my buddies chickened out and so it was only going to be the two of us. Me and a kid we called PeePot because of his propensity to wait too long to go to the bathroom and then frequently wet his pants (not exactly a guy you wanted spending the night in your tent). Both of us wanted desperately to beg off the dare, but neither wanted to lose face. So we stuffed our pockets with candy for the movie and headed out.

It took us forever to walk down that dark railroad track. The only time there was light to keep us from tripping on almost every railroad tie was the time the train came, sending us both hurdling down the incline, getting a bit scratched up from our overreaction. It seemed with every step it got darker as we ventured further out into the middle of nowhere.

Where was the moon? All I remember is with every passing half mile the terror began to grow to the point where neither of us spoke, because we couldn't. We both had FICM, fear-induced-cotton-mouth and we weren't even there yet. Just when I thought I would panic I realized we were where we needed to turn up a gravel road running directly into the old outdoor movie theater.

Even though not technically a highway, several cars came over hills catching us like 'deer in the headlights' and we would hear voices yelling at us to "GET OUT OF THE ROAD, STUPID!" and stuff like that. We began to jog and I swear I could hear something sloshing when Pee-Pot was running next to me. We both breathed a huge sigh of relief as we secreted our way across the highway and then slipped under the fence, finding our way to an empty spot where the speakers hung on the post. We stood far enough away from cars that no one should notice two kids standing at the DRIVE-in.

And then it happened, the credits rolled and suddenly we were in ancient Iraq at an archeological dig. "WHAT GIVES? THIS IS LIKE A NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MOVIE?" I complained loudly, but secretly a bit relieved that this wasn't going to be quite as terrifying as I had thought.

Soon enough young Regan's head was spinning like a top and floating around her room with the scariest face I had ever seen. She was using phrases I didn't understand and language that would earn me a bar of Lava in the kisser if I ever repeated any of them (mom wasn't too liberal about that one.) By the end of the movie I wasn't sure if Pee-Pot was the only one who would have that nickname from that night on. I WAS T E R R I F I E D! Pee-Pot's eyes were so wide I thought he would never blink again. I was sure the whole place was going to go up in smoke for showing such a movie.

I have never been that scared in my life and we had threeish miles of dark road ahead of me and by now it was well after midnight. We somehow hadn't counted on the threeish mile trek back in the now terrifying, "possessed" night darkness when we made the decision to go see the scariest movie ever made.


EVERY twig that snapped or coyote that howled convinced me with every step that I was becoming possessed like poor Regan. Pee-Pot completely lost the ability to speak and even though it was too dark to see his face, I was sure he was crying most of the way home.

I had never noticed how comforting the streetlight across the road from my house was at night, but seeing it as we crested the hill was like a beacon leading me home. Neither Pee-Pot nor I said a word, we both just knew there was NO sleeping in our tents that short night (by now it was around three in the morning).

I sneaked up the metal ladder that was below my window, against the house and pulled the screen off and squeezed my way in. I slipped down into my bed and pushed myself deep down under a cover in my bed, even though it was a hot summer night, I needed to be cocooned. Suddenly my bed felt like it was moving and I was sure I was about to begin floating.

I lay there wide awake, unable to close my eyes as they darted to and fro wondering when my dresser was going to scoot across the floor and pin me against the wall. I was totally terrified until the sun came up. It was the first night in my life I had stayed up ALL night. Though it was comforting to see the sun come up on the darkest night of my life, somehow I knew night would be sneaking up on me again too soon.

The worst part of my disobedience was that I couldn't tell anyone that I was so scared or why. I had to suffer night terrors for about a month before the raw, scary emotional response to seeing something I was WAY too young to see with not parental comfort began to subside.

I learned one of the most valuable lessons of my life that night about listening to people who know a bit more about things than I do. I also decided that for the meantime, the parodies of adult movies in Mad Magazine were more my style and didn't feel compelled to go see something that I couldn't handle. If Mom said "NO!", then that was an answer. I would listen to more.

I confessed to the activities of that dark and scary night when I was in high school when enough time had passed and we could all "laugh about it". Mom told me Pee Pot had ratted me out back then because he was so scared he had slept with his parents for about six months. When I asked her why she hadn't confronted me about it back then, she said something like, "Are you kidding me? You were the most compliant, helpful, obedient kid for the next month that I'd ever seen and I could see you were punishing yourself enough. I didn't have the heart to do more."

I said it before and I will say it again: The MORAL OF THE STORY - MOM IS ALWAYS RIGHT! The way to live a better, saner, fuller life - LISTEN TO MOM!

I had all but forgotten this horrific chapter in my early life until I once again watched The Exorcist all these years later and it all came back to me. I literally remember exactly how I felt the first time I dipped my toe into terrifying story telling. Though I am mature enough now to handle the terror and have a clear understand that it is simply a story of God winning, it is not like the cotton candy of my youth, which the last time I was at an amusement park made me wonder how I at one time in my life considered it one of my top five favorite foods. No, The Exorcist has remained horrifying and good storytelling to this day. I asked the question of my friends on facebook, What is the scariest movie you have ever seen and 40%+ named this movie.

Nothing since has come close, though the fear I felt at two in the morning not that long ago, after returning from seeing the Midnight Movie showing of The Ring with a buddy set me up a bit. Once I entered my dark, cold house and my phone started ringing that old fear gripped me hard until I looked out the window and saw my buddy gripping his cell phone and laughing hard at what must have been a white face with too-wide eyes. I haven't gotten him back for that one yet, but I will... BOOHAHAHAHA...

Now all these years later, I write stories and have been working on a scary one for years titled THE MAN IN THE WOODS, which I won't release until I am sure it holds the same terror for the reader that this movie held for me once.

But, generally, in my GP series, something from real life sparks my inspiration for my character's activities. This real life incident I have just told (in a too long for blog story, nod with me now) will surely show up in book 5 or 6 as something either Gabe and his friends do or something their older brothers do. Either way, it will have a similar backfire effect.

As a Catholic schoolboy I knew Thou Shalt Obey Your Mother and Father was one of the big TEN. Believe me after that experience I did a bit more obeying for a long, long time!

So, what is the scariest Movie you've ever seen?

What could be more gratifying to an author...

than to attend a Holiday Boutique event to meet, greet and sign books for little readers and be able to watch child after child literally plop down on the floor amidst busy shoppers to dive right in to the book they chose? I do this every year to remind me of just who it is I write for. This year's most popular titles have been the mix and match aliens and it's 1728 alien combination mix and match feature (next up Pooches All Mixed Up!) and for my older readers the new Gabe installment, The Gabriel Book of World Records is being VERY well received!

I am jazzed up by the responses and am busy at work at my next two to publish! Please watch my website www.justinmatott.com for announcements and add me as a friend on Facebook and Twitter!

THANK YOU TO YOU READERS!

Last night... magic...

I did a talk for a group of kids, teachers and parents at a school I have visited numerous times not far from my house. It was a pleasant evening as I mingled in the library and then was eagerly greeted by a young girl who clutched her copy of Ol' Lady Grizelda, which I had signed for her five years ago, when she "was a little kid, in 3rd grade" and now she was in middle school and "still really liked the book". She insisted I update her copy with another note and signature and then informed me my signature had changed (aka, gotten sloppy) and said, "See you in another five years." after we talked about the fact that she wanted to be a teacher. I envisioned another five years which meant I could see her again when she was student teaching in a classroom. WOW, time does keep ticking... I imagined her copy of Ol' Lady Grizelda going from a bedroom bookshelf to a classroom bookshelf and smiled. Maybe I would work on my penmanship, so my third signing of it would show improvement?

Soon we gathered in the music room where I told some stories, primarily stories upon which my books are based. As I explained the GP series and where the ideas came from I talked about how my main character Gabriel Peters (GP) begins in book one, Go Ask Mom, with some "strikes" against him, mostly physical, which draws attention and wrath from some school bullies and as a result Gabe is bullied and must find some solutions.

As I told the story I became quite aware of a young man sitting in a wheel chair listening intently to me talking about physical "shortcomings" that were causing Gabe some problems and wondered what he was thinking. He was holding a copy of Go Ask Mom so I knew he was very aware of the conflict in the book. He nodded in recognition as I told stories about Gabe's narcoleptic cat, his mean big brother who Gabe chased out of their shared bedroom one night with nothing more than a lot of imagination and a good, scary story and other adventures.

At the end of my talk it was question time and then it was time to go back to the library, to the book fair, to sign some books. My friend on wheels chimed in as did his mother, but more one on one as the others filed out to go back to the library. He, a really good-natured boy and a social ease recounted parts of the book he really liked. Mom and son both told me how reading Go Ask Mom together had brought them a lot of good times, where mom could recount her neighborhood adventures and how similar they were to Gabe's. My young friend told me how he had used the idea Gabe used to do something different to catch a bully of guard, using his words "like Gabe" to baffle. He simply said "sparkly wheels", because his wheelchair has a cool lighting gizmo, kind of like those tricked out cars that light the undercarriage at night and the bully didn't know how to react. He continued to just say that simple phrase whenever the bully would approach and it seemed to properly keep him off guard because soon it appeared as thought he bully wanted to befriend instead of be mean.

Later in the library, as they had me sign a copy of the sequel, The World According to Gabe, mom told me more stories about how they had connected to Gabe and she thanked me numerous times for writing the book. It seemed at that moment as if the reason for writing that book had been to help a young man in a wheelchair learn how to make the world work a little better and I felt a sense of pride nothing else could have brought. When my young friend wheeled up eagerly holding several toys (does every kid in the world think the book fair is a toy fair?) he was delighted to see mom had already had me sign the second book for him.

As he clutched the book close, he wheeled away, but over his shoulder he said, "I can't wait to see what happens next." I thought he was going to burst when I told him The Gabriel Book of World Records was coming out next week. I imagined mom and son cracking open his new prize at bedtime in just an hour or so and the "new" adventures of Gabe once again filling his bedroom.

As I drove home in the dark, with probably the last of summer evening warmth flowing over me, I was filled with a sense that I was really doing what I was put here to do: Writing stories, telling stories, living stories.

You never know when something you share with the rest of the world is going to make a difference. So, what story do you have that could be shared that would change someone in a small or big way?