The Reinvention of Cake

Context

By

Berry Michel

So just to add some background context to where I am in life and the whole reason for this blog, I am at a point where I am unsure of the future. My second divorce just went final a few months ago and I am stationed in the foreign land of Korea. I moved here about seven months ago at the direction of my employer, the U.S. Army. I have nothing against Korea, but I was in a bit of blue funk when I got here. I will admit I was downright depressed. I was going through this major life event and didn’t know what the future holds. On top of that, my entire support network is back in the States.

I can’t say I have enjoyed living here as much as I could have. Aside for my love of Korean fried chicken, I haven’t found much here to improve my mood. I can now say that I am finally coming out of my downtrodden state. I am much more optimistic these days. Maybe because my one-year tour here is more than half over and I will be back in my beloved homeland soon.  

So how did I get here? Let’s start from the beginning. The very beginning. I grew up in a small town in southeast Virginia. My parents were complete opposites but somehow made it work. My mom was a devout Jehovah’s Witness and homemaker and my dad, what can I say, he was about as far as you can get from any religion, besides the worship of drugs, sex, and alcohol.

I don’t want to make excuses about how your childhood influences your decisions as an adult. So, let’s just say it had an impact. I must admit that I didn’t care much for my father growing up. He was a certified A-hole, but the man was a hustler. My dad dropped out of school in fourth grade and could not read or write his entire life but somehow, he managed to earn a decent living as a garbage truck driver for the county we lived in. He then supplemented his legitimate income with a few illicit side hustles that included illegal gambling and a host of other side gigs that enabled him to raise nine children, buy a house, several Cadillacs, and boats over the years. If I learned nothing else from this man, it was the value of hard work and to never ever let barriers to entry limit your goals.

The other side of my father consisted of vices that I learned to hate. There were affairs and drug use. Then you had the occasional episode of domestic violence and the complete absence of being a father figure besides providing monetary support. I vowed to myself at a young age to never be like my father when I grew up and had my own family. The punchline of this story is that as much I wanted to be unlike my old man, when I got married, I repeated some of the same behavior. Now looking back on it, sometimes you become what you hate. My best advice is recognizing the pattern and breaking it early. Of course, that is easier said than done. But just so you have the context for the rest of this story, I get it from my daddy.