markie d: : hair

Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Sasquatch and Big Foot Frivolity.

Saturday Sept 10th 1966 continues and continues and continues... and boy does it continue!

Everyone, I am so sorry! I've been extremely busy preparing for a new quarter of teaching and have been away from this blog for too long...so I beg your forgiveness. As a way of making amends I have posted some pictures that I'd like to share with you...

You may have heard of the legend of The Sasquatch.. the hairy "Big Foot" of North America. Actually all that really is... are just sightings of my brothers when they are in the back-woods fishing...

You can't blame my brothers for being upset by the hillbilly paparazzi snapping pictures when they are enjoying the solitude of the quiet fishing life.

Can you?

Give my brothers some privacy will you!

There! That is one mysterious anomaly of nature - answered.

Here is a picture of my mom combing my brother, Chewbacca's, hair!

A picture of all seven of us boys... this doesn't include... Mad Dog, Pinky or Kleghorn!
HaHa!

Okay, all joking and foolishness aside - I've included some real pictures of my family - "The Wolf Pack" you judge for yourself!

Hair! Flaxen, Waxen, Gleaming...Long Beautiful Hair!

Sasquatch with tuxedos... you don't see that every day!

Without the tuxedos!

What is the '60's-70's without a Volkswagon van?

RIGHT!?

I'm the tame one in the center, but I think you get the idea... We were a real hairy Rat Pack... true '60 and '70 hippies from the "Hippy" capital of the world... VENICE, CALIFORNIA USA!

My mom on top of a pyramid of a lot of hair.... OOOOOOOOOPS...

Pyramid..fall down and go boom! The Wolf Pack just playing around....

All right, I owe you a story. Why don't you take a minute to digest this, then in my very next post I will continue the epic saga of the longest day. This is when Gherhing the Great and I get back from begin tossed around in vomit of the trunk of Gustav's race-car - to Wolf Pack Central. This is where the hippies are planning a standard prank on the little old lady next door and as an alien UFO (Unidentified Flying Object) crash lands on the famous Lennon Sister's house across the street!

Until next time!

good bye

ha det

Hej då

au revoir

До свидания

adios

枝节，小事，附属事物。

Wiedersehen!

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Flaxing Waxing Shining Gleaming HAIR!

Stick around - because below is a treat....

The hardest part for me at this point is not coming up with a story to tell about my incredibly bizarre childhood and crazy family. Trust me it is not for lack of stories. No! The problem is deciding on what story to tell next.

So far you know that we were a little bit different...okay - so that was a lie! We were very different!

We were the only family on the planet to let all the monkeys out of the Zoo. While normal people went to the Holiday Inn where kids stayed for free - we, however, spewed out on the dirt on the shores of the sulfur smelling Salton Sea and covered ourselves in a salty-volcanic mud concoction where everyone stays for free...all 17 of us. And because of our practice of illegally smuggling bodies in a trailer, I was almost a causality of the "childhood abandonment campaign" if not for the high-speed, Highway Patrol chase that forced my family come back for me.

Trust me, between "The Hamper" "The Poop in the Fort" "The Electrocution in the Pool" "The Veloci-Rooster" "Miss Simpson and the Alligators" "Kurt and the Rapids of Death" Chewbacca and the Templates" "President Johnson and Snapping Turtles" all the broken bones and near death accidents, I have plenty of stories to keep you in stitches and to give you some things to think about.

The British Invasion was in full swing... as the Beatles arrived on our shores from across the pond... so for now I want to offer a fun tribute to hair as we went from creepy little kids with blonde hair to creepy hippies with lots and lots of blonde hair.

Stick around for the next installment, I think I'll have to share the unbelievable story of "The Hamper of DEATH" with you! It's bound to be one wild and unbelievable ride .

Until next time, jag alskar du

Tuesday, May 7, 2013

The Tender Reed! FRAGILE HANDLE WITH CARE

Well, needless to say that my hair grew back, as you can see - at least by sixth grade.... (you would have to see the last blog post to understand why I am talking about my hair growing back).

Wouldn't you agree that we're all pretty fragile to some degree. Every kid has dreams, goals, and aspirations - hopes for the future. I think we all need someone to believe in us. Today - FIND SOMEONE AND FAN THEIR DREAM. Greet them, hug them - tell them that you believe.

A TENDER REED

Today I walked among the majestic oaks.

Careless and consumed with me

Mindless trampling underfoot

Life struggling below the dense canopy.

A broken reed is what I found

Crushed and bruised upon the ground

Pressed on by life, do I pass by

Or invest the moment, lest it die.

I placed it in my caring hand

To find it was but rooted in shifting sand

Kneaded into dark rich earth

I prayed that new life would take birth

I watered and checked on my new friend

Whose attended soul hastened to mend

From the water and love I freely gave

Grew a majestic oak I helped saved.

While shaded by the large lush tree

A soft still whisper came to me

Little Children are like this once tender reed

And you are the soil to nurture the seed.

by Mark Dahlin

Friday, April 26, 2013

Electrocuting a NUN - NOT GOOD!

Before I tell you what gave Sister Godzilla the twitch in her left eye, I thought you might like to see the shirt I was wearing in this picture. To verify my earlier claims - it was a hand-me-down, it was SEE-THROUGH and it did only have two buttons (oh, I'm the one in the far right - if you couldn't tell).

Cute crew right? Well, looks could be deceiving. Take a look at the sinister glean in the eye of the third boy from the left (to protect his identity I'll just call him Gustav). Right as that picture was snapped a diabolical plan was hatched. Only... it would be tested out on me and my little sister first (who is second from the left - front).

"Oh yeah... let's experiment with electricity! Let's play with electricity in the most dangerous setting possible in the history of the world." (something like that probably went through my older brother's head when he threw the switch that summer for the first time).

ONLY Karin and me and my two poor innocent neighbors happened to be in the water (did I just say water?), we were in the water in the pool (did I mention the pool that had metal sides?) We were in the dough-boy pool in the water that now had electricity coursing through the metal sides.

There is a picture of the pool in its Glory Days (when we still used chlorine - you know before we started breeding mosquitoes in it and before the older boys added the alligator).

Anyway, they threw the switch and as soon as we touched the sides - all four of us got the shock of our lives and somehow lived to tell about it.

Now that they knew they could electrocute people without actual killing them, they decided to try it on a NUN.

When Gustav threw the switch that sent 110 volts of electricity through her entire body it blew that black and white helmet/thingy straight off her head like a rocket ship that made her hair stand up like Frankenstein’s bride.

Hair, you ask?

Yeah. Nuns have hair.

The second she grabbed the side of our pool to look at the mosquitoes we were breeding, he threw the switch and…

Kabam

…that’s when it happened! The habit, the hair, the shrieking. the ambulance and THE TWITCH.

Let's just say this, my year in Sister Godzilla's class didn't go well for either of us.

If you've ever been the victim of an awful sibling prank, tell me about it! COMMENT

I guess the next thing I'll have to do, is tell you about the ZOO!

No Other Family Like Ours - seriously

WHAT OTHER FAMILY IN THE WORLD let all of the monkeys out of the Zoo, been pranked by the sitting President of the United States in a rouge encounter, chased in cities, chased out of cities and chased down by the cops. Who in their right mind voluntarily electrocute themselves just for fun and dared to electrify the nuns around the corner—who neither volunteered nor had fun? WHAT OTHER FAMILY has had more broken bones, pulled more pranks, have had a plethora of runaway rattlesnakes and other large reptiles terrorize their neighborhood. WHAT OTHER FAMILY grew Mexican Tomato plants that never grew tomatoes and had leaky boats that refuse to float or Escaped death more times? Who had cars on blocks, trucks as trash barges and flowerbeds sprouting rusted bikes, mislaid sparkplugs and abandoned carburetors instead of flowers? Meet the DAHLINS

And to think we survived and came out normal—well, mostly.

The Truimph of Overcoming

I use the word dysfunction with deliberate intention and with great respect in serving the main point of this blog. In the wild ramblings of a kid I ruminate on the idea that my family was not just dysfunctional but was the “most dysfunctional family” on the planet—that’s the set up.

As I look to the other “normal” plain-wrap families next door and across the street that had tidy yards and flowerbeds believing that the grass is greener on the other side (well the grass was greener), it shouldn’t shock anyone to realize that there is dysfunction in all of us—often times masked by tidy lawns and clean exteriors. Along with joy, success and adventure, life is filled with disappointment, failure, pain, and betrayal from those who have let us down. This is what it means to be human. I admit that I faced some disappointment in trying to fit in and longed for acceptance as the youngest boy of our wolf pack, but in large part I can honestly say that I had more fun and more adventure, in what I would call a happy childhood—despite the numerous broken bones. Yet, I would be remiss if I did not brag a bit and say, “Yeah, but...Look at all the great stories.”

Though, I dig deep into the mind and explore the full range of emotions of this young kid who felt detached, wondered about his existence, about his place in the family and his connection to the universe—He came out okay.

The older Markie D loves his brothers and sisters and holds no grudges.

Markie D has found this elusive connection to the universe and is well adjusted—and yes, still a little bit crazy. He has been married for 34 years to an amazing artist, Kerry, and has four incredibly gifted and talented adult children.

Oh, BTW… He mows his lawn, parks a car in the garage and has flowers in the flowerbeds and desires boats that float and less adventure in every outing and more "plain-wrap."

May you find your connection to the universe that brings healing, wholeness, forgiveness and a sense of hope as you look to your future.

Not too long ago on a pale blue dot, third from the sun, people and events converged in the space/time continuum that would forever change the course of history. The setting is a huge Victorian home that slightly leaned on its crumbling foundation, groaning under the weight of unruly kids and hoards of junk. In the era of Ozzie and Harriet and Father’s Knows Best, I was born into a family dysfunction of epic proportions. This decrepit masterpiece in Venice would rival the Addams Family’s house, and the cast of characters would prove to be more incredible and wacky than The Munsters. The big problem was that I was the seventh born, the youngest boy and the runt of the litter.

To have 10 in a family in our catholic neighborhood was underachieving. To compete with the larger families, my mom gladly took in strays. The official-nonofficial count was more in the neighborhood of 14 ―mostly boys and all older than me.

All sibling rivalry and mischief flowed downhill and ended up on my platter, whether I had any say in the matter or not. For fun, we held on to the live wires that were left hanging out of a wall from a unfinished remodel. We were the only family I knew who voluntarily electrocuted themselves with 110 volt household current, and are the only family in the history of the world to single-handedly let all of the monkeys out of the LA zoo. We got chased out of cities; pursued by the Highway Patrol; and sought after by the entire Needles California Police force. Wherever we went, we made a spectacular splash which usually ended up on the front page of the local newspaper.

After being buried in pits, caged, hunted, left behind and electrocuted, I somehow managed to survive my childhood but felt numb, disconnected and alone although part of a big family. In college while searching for acceptance and connection, I experienced an event that would alter the course of my life. I graduated from Loyola Marymount University with a degree in Communications. I coached water polo and swimming at Saint Monica’s my High School Alma Mater and enjoyed major success in investment real estate. After a financial crisis, I committed myself to serving in ministry, working with Youth and Family, as an associate pastor of a large church in Southern California. I graduated with a Masters at the top of my class from Azusa Pacific Graduate School of Theology and was ordained a licensed Pastor.

I am married to an avid artist and have four children: three boys and a girl who takes after her mother’s creativity.

Currently, I am a senior Pastor of a church in Roseville, CA, and adjunct Professor of Biblical Studies at a Bible college, and live in Sacramento with my wife and daughter.

markie d:

'72 swim team