Ray Hobbs Novelist

Life in The Mile High City, ..The Rocky Mountain High.

"Parental Alienation is too common today and many men and women experience it with their biological children. It is a tough reality to accept but a necessary one to move on with one’s life. After you experience it yourself it is easy to recognize in the relationships of others and you know what they need to hear. It is going to be ugly for awhile before it gets better if it ever does. 99% either move on or go crazy. When you have an alienated child that has begun to abuse you, talk down to you like they are the parent and you are the child it is time to let go emotionally and deal with it intellectually. Not easy this is. Once this has been achieved though it is easier to see clearly where mistakes were made and outcomes can be found. Mental and financial relief is what most need and it’s not something that happens over night but it is possible within a short period of time with the right tools and guidance. TPP was not just another nonprofit organization that did nothing but hold weekly meetings to cry on each other’s shoulders. No, this was aggressive no holds barred out of court direct contact with both parents and playing hard ball when necessary, whatever it took. What I learned from my experiences was invaluable to those who were within the Family Court system or about to become permanently entangled in it." (Excerpt from The Repository)

Ray Hobbs Denver Colorado Novelist

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There was a better way. Planned Fatherhood. The Steps to Knowledge. Demartini Concourse of Wisdom. A.I. 3.0

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"The Criminal"

Life After Football

I’m trying to imagine what that drive back to Pflugerville Texas must have been like for the parents of this young stupid Man Child who just got released from jail in the small town of El Stupido Texas.

They had to get up in the middle of the night and drive one hundred and fifty miles after a hard day’s work striving to house and feed their other four children and one grandchild. In the darkness in a state of shock, driving blindly silently as they both realized that their child, their star, their wonder boy had just blown everything he worked for and they paid for over the last fifteen years. He blew it.

Well, maybe We should say He smoked it, .. He fired it up!

He got popped! Busted! With a joint.

And He lost His College scholarship before He could hit it righteously

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Imagine driving the bare Texas landscape, trying to stay in between the lines and counting miles one by one until you pull up in this dusty sleepy little town looking for a sign that says one word, .. Jail. Neither of you wanted to start any conversation about anything during the entire drive as you both were thinking the same thing; What are we going to do now? What is he going to do now? What will we tell everyone?

Walking into the small mobile home trailer that was the office for the trailer park in the rear that was in reality the Jail was an environmental shock for the two of you. Busy well known executives of a middle class community doing everything possible to help house the homeless, feed the hungry, rescue the abandoned and love starved children, this is the last place you ever expected to be claiming a child of your own.

Welcome to Detention. This is Texas.

Your status you enjoyed back home evaporated the moment you stepped out of your Black luxury SUV onto the dry dust the Sheriff called His Little Bit of Heaven. Deputy Reagan asked you sit down and wait for a few before you could say anything about who you were and why you were there. He did not skip a beat in his phone call as he turned his back and walked into the other room and closed the door.

As you waited for Deputy Reagan to return you asked each other questions like “Will He be released tonight”, “Will We have to post bond”, “Does this mean He’s off the team?” “Did they impound His car?” “Will this cost us a lot of money?” The answers are Yes, Yes, Yes and Yes.

Mom calls the kids to update the oldest and make sure the younger ones are taken care of, Step Dad wonders to himself “WTF have I got myself into?, What has this boy done?” There were signs along the way to college that indicated this may not be an easy journey and that close eyes would have to monitor his daily actions and progress, or lack of. Their son’s academic astuteness was not evident in high school as his GPA reflects and off field videos activities, comments, social media posts indicated a low level of maturity. It was all about football the first eighteen years of his life whatever it took from his family, his teachers and coaches. He was somehow pushed through year after year and now that had become self evident.

Sad stories like this one are a dime a dozen and there are more disasters in football than there are success stories. Strangely they all seem to take the same course, alcohol, drugs, unrealistic dreams of being a millionaire without a team and no idea how to survive after football, just dreams, getting high and drunk. Then the crimes start to line up one after one, first little petty stupid stuff like speeding tickets, then public intoxication followed by a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. And before you know it your boy, your High School Super Star is a criminal with a record.

The smell of stench hits you hard as Deputy Reagan comes through the door with a stack of papers and a pen, and without looking at either one of you says ‘If Y’all are here to pick up your boy fill out these papers and I’ll be back in a bit.” One look at all the papers and the you look at each other thinking the same thing “We’re going to need an attorney and this is going to be expensive.” Now you realize why there are stacks of attorney flyers and bail bondsmen cards all over the walls, on the desk in front of you, the pen has an attorney phone # on it, but you start filling out the paperwork anyway.

After another hour and a half Deputy Reagan returns and introduces himself but informs you his shift is over and the next deputy will be in soon. He walks out of the trailer. Not one sound for the next hour. The phone never rang nor was anyone else in the trailer. Around Sunrise a chubby little woman came in, said Hello, and went straight to the computer and asked if they were here for their son. Finally. Someone was talking to them and looking them in the eye as if they wanted to help in any way possible.

It had been a long night without any answers, no coffee or food, no sleep, nothing. Now the Sun was up and that Texas heat was reminding you that you were sitting in an aluminum oven, a mobile home trailer. The little lady got up and flipped on the air conditioning and it was barely 7am. It felt good.

To be continued.

“The Criminal”

Ray Hobbs, Journal Notes