Wednesday, December 28, 2011 |

When a gift is a curse (and vice-versa)

Kinda like Kermit the frog (it ain’t easy being green), I find myself quite often identifying with his logic. It ain’t easy being a “Guy”. Many of you that I went to school with do not understand the pressure bestowed on me because of that last name.  Not to mention the endless jokes (I’m sure it didn’t help that I was a tom-boy all through school).

I had to hear from my parents:

“Your grandfather worked hard to build up the “Guy” name!”

“You need to care about what people think – always be aware of your actions to protect the “Guy” honor!”

And other shit like that.

Like being a “Guy” was royalty in Bay Shore. <pssht!>

Well, I’m a logical type’a “Gal” (and a truth seeker)… and what I’ve come to find out (remember, I drove a cab for 19 years IN BAY SHORE)… my Grandfather was a male whore. He was very handsome and attractive and entertained many women. The exact quote from one of my cab co-workers was: “Dick could walk into a bar and women would buy him drinks and he rarely went home alone”. He’s been divorced 4 times all ready and even now at 92, he still flirts with the deli clerk at the local grocery. I have an Aunt and Uncle that are (substantially) younger than me.  So, on the big picture of things – sounds like the “Guy’s” are pretty regular people to me.

I’d say my life turned out much better than some because even though Aboy and I have our share of issues, 1. We’re still married, 2. All 4 of our kids are pretty productive and intelligent, 3. We don’t depend on anyone but us or blame anyone but us – for our life.

Getting married and changing my last name was cool. Unfortunately being a “Guy” is engrained in my soul (and has been passed on to my children). Determination (stubbornness) is one the biggest “gifts” I’ve bestowed on my children – and just like luggage, you never really get rid of it. This same “gift”, produces an insatiable desire to WIN at everything.

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Being a “Cuffie” has its challenges as well. The entire Cuffie family is a “no-nonsense” group. In the tri-town area (Bay Shore, Brentwood, Central Islip), there are not too many people that don’t know at least one “Cuffie”.

I heard many stories about the “Cuffie’s” at the cab too. Jack #9 was a Brentwood guy and one of his friends was killed in a bar fight by one of Aboy’s uncles (using his bare hands).

One of Aboy’s Aunts had got mugged on Second Ave in Bay Shore – but, beat the guy up, dragged him to Hambone’s (my father-in-law) house - about 3 houses away - and then wanted her brothers (who were over there visiting) to continue the ass-whippin’ (even though the guy was near unconsciousness).

Even my loving, caring, sweet husband has put a guy in a coma (because the guy and his friend had tried to jump Aboy a couple days before). He caught the guy by himself, hit him with one punch… then ran to his grandmother’s house up the block and sat on the couch – trying to act like nothing happened.

That’s a pretty big reputation to uphold (or live down).

Being a “Cuffie”, it’s like they have a “gift” – called the 6th sense for bullshit. They can see right through it and take very little of it. Unfortunately, not all of the Cuffie’s have been given the “gift” to argue and violence is usually the answer to resolve bullshit.

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And then there were kids...

So just like you hope your kids have green eyes or straight teeth – through some form of osmosis, they inherit these “gifts”.

Yup, I have fighters that won’t quit.

I like to call them my “warriors” and they were raised by the Hambone mottos: “When one fight, yous all fight!” and “If someone hits you, hit them back. If you don’t fight back, I’m going to whip your ass when you get home” (so, that makes 2 ass-whippin’s in 1 day). 

I remember one time – when we lived in South Carolina… I worked nights, so I slept during the day. My kids were allowed to be outside (while I slept) as long as they stayed near the yard – or played in the street (we lived on a dead end) – under the premise I could see them and they could hear me when I called them.  A (teenage) boy came to the house to fight Wes (who was about 11 or 12 at the time). His friends had boosted him up to fight Wes (pick a reason, Wes was: handsome, bi-racial, well mannered, athletic, all the little girls loved him… I don’t know why kids want to fight).  I was sleeping and Rachel ran inside to tell me “Mommy! Wes is fighting in the front yard!” I went outside and caught the end of it – and Wes definitely walked the dog on that kid.  So, like any rational, compassionate “mom” would do – I lectured the kid… “Now you see, you had your little friends amp you up and come to my house to fight my son and he whipped your ass – and if he didn’t whip your ass – what he did to you, I’da did to him – so now go home and tell your mother – so she can get some too.”

No more problems from anyone in that neighborhood.

I didn’t raise bullies. I raised finishers. My kids didn’t just go around kickin’ ass randomly, but I can’t remember too many of the fights they were provoked into, that any of them lost. They didn’t get into trouble for fighting – they got into trouble if they didn’t fight back. In some cases, they were targeted. Being bi-racial (especially in the south) is hard because they are too dark to be white and not dark enough to be black. My kids had developed the 6th sense for bullshit.


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And then we have… the real world. After Littleton, Colorado – where the kids shot up the high school… a lot of schools took on the “no tolerance” policy.

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I remember when Ben and Wes were in high school - getting a call from Mr. Lemp (who was the Dean at the time)… “Mrs. Cuffie… I have both your sons in the office today… Wes was supposed to be in the cafeteria, but Ben was supposed to be in biology.” He went on to say that some kids were throwing snow around in the small (banana) cafeteria and a snowball hit Wes (according to Wes, he said “I better not get hit with any snow”). He flung his cookie (quite accurately) and hit the girl (that threw the snow) with the cookie.  The girl rushed Wes, but before she could get to Wes, Ben (who beats up girls – that think they can fight boys), snatched the girl in a choke hold and slammed her on the cafeteria table… that’s when security stepped in. Everyone involved got suspended. I didn't punish my sons because they followed the rules - "if someone hits you, hit them back" and "when one fights, yous all fight".  

I have sons and daughters. If a girl hits my son(s), they are fair game to at least get slammed. If you think you are strong enough to fight a boy… then you are willing enough to catch a beat down.  I don’t feel like I, as a parent of boys – should be teaching my sons not to hit girls (because I did teach them not to throw the first punch)… I think parents of girls should be teaching their daughters to keep their hands off boys. End of story.


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I know many of you are thinking “OMG!”… but, as far as we’ve come as a society and as rational as we should be – sometimes ignorance is educated best through violence. Like I’ve said – my kids were not allowed to throw the first punch – but they had better finish it, to lay all doubt to rest… “We don’t take no shit”.  The logic is very primitive – but raising my kids with that mentality – I can’t say I’ve feared for their safety (even when Ben was in Afghanistan), because I know they were given the defensive tools and awareness to protect themselves.

IMHO (cause I'm not a psychologist or anything), there would be less bullying if parents encouraged their kids to fight back – instead of internalizing their fears and self-imploding. Funny thing about Bullies… most of them can’t fight.
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