Baby Mountain Flower Bear - Jew Boy: How I Overcame Beatings, Porn, Drugs, Alcohol, Suicide & High School to Retire From the: A Memoir of Survival

This is exceptionally well-written, brutal and honest, and not at all self-pitying. As someone who has known you for a very long time, I realize you hid your demons far better than I believed. You are absolutely right about your recurring theme none of us are alone.

A U.S. Navy Master Chief Petty Officer

The writing is raw very raw. I empathized with your pains and fears and tastes for dear sweet smoothness to escape the shitholes and shitheads. I marvel at how either of us survived, didnt shoot anyone in the face, and became marginally successful in our careers.

A U.S. Navy Master Chief Petty Officer

I know Im being selfish, but I wanted more. You grabbed my attention and brought me along for the ride. You presented a phenomenal, gut-wrenching, honest look into the success youve become. I am convinced your story needs to be shared. I am convinced it will help others.

RW, retired police officer & detective

I never met my father. I have no blood relation to my last name.

My moms first husband was her piano teacher, and nearly twice her age. Im certain he took advantage of her, or at least the situation. My mom was fourteen and he was in his mid-twenties.

He often passed her around like a party favor, enjoyed watching his friends fuck her, using her like a sex doll. This is how I entered the world. I think Im probably the son of the best man at their wedding.

My mom had it made growing up in ways I and my sister and brothers did not. Her parents were moderately financially successful when she grew up with her brother and sister in the woods of an East Coast state in the 1960s. She fell in love with her first husband right around the escalation of the Vietnam War.

She married him, the piano teacher, shortly after high school, at seventeen. No one in my mothers family liked him. He was fashionably anti-establishment and despised my grandparents for driving cars and living for The Man.

He and my mother decided to join a commune just outside the Canadian border. This is where I was born in 1972. I was conceived by Mountain Bear and Flower Bear. Those were seriously the hippie names they chose. So, theres the solved mystery of my unusual pen name.

I dont remember living in the commune. I was an infant. I know my mother was afraid of all the LSD and other drugs possibly entering my system, and her husband was treating her like crapat one point in time he even fucked her sister. So, my mom and I left. What she tried to protect me from became my favorite chemical when I reached the age of fourteen. I loved acid. More on this later.

My mom left me with her parents after she left the commune. She started college, and slowly started working toward a nursing degree. My grandparents were awesome. I think I lived with them from the time I was less than a year old until I was about three. Im almost fifty now, and I still have vivid memories of living there.

My grandmother had nine brothers and sisters. The house she grew up in was next door to the one-room schoolhouse she attended from kindergarten to twelfth grade, back around 1920. My grandmother grew up in the back woods and knew everything about that. She showed me how to pick wild mint, make walnut ice cream from scratch, make bread, make pretty much anything. She was energetic, funny, creative, and religious. She and my grandfather both were. She sang songs about Jesus a lot. They were really great people.