Cole Smithey E-mails

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This page is a list of emails exchanged by Chris and his half-brother Cole Smithey from March to July, 2007. Notice that Cole's side of the conversation starts well-versed and polite, but prolonged exposure to Chris makes him obscene and mean-spirited. Not shockingly, it seems Chris (and the thought of Barbara) brings out the worst in him.

Hey, Big Bro. :)

Mar 4, 2007

Remember your lil' bro.? It's me, Christian C. It's been a long while. I'm doing good. I graduated from PVCC with two Computer Aided Drafting & Design Degrees. And currently, I'm getting by with livin' with my folks and a monthly tugboat. Mama is doing okay; she's been retired for like over a year now; she feels happier not having to rush back-and-forth through traffic and all that hustle and bustle. But currently, she mostly sleeps on the couch during a bunch of the day, yet she does get up sometimes to go out with the family or do some work. We haven't seen much of our aunts either.

I have talked to mom, and I quote her when she said, "I do not regret giving life to Cole. We've had a bunch of good years up till the madness. And all things considered I still love Cole very much like any mother would for her son." She really does. :) And I have

<The rest is cut off>

Re: Hey, Big Bro. :)

Mar 6, 2007

It's very Christian of Barbara to not regret having given birth to me but I'm an atheist. I also have no regrets about emerging from her womb. Although, she is mistaken about the "bunch of good years" we supposedly had together. I grew up in an abusive household with Barbara and my former stepfather Jerry, where physical and mental punishments ran the gambit from bare-assed beatings to cold showers to bizarre scenarios acted out with glee by two deeply neurotic adults. The treatment I received in Richmond, Va was another matter altogether. To raise a child in such conditions is inexcusable. Even at a very young age, I knew that they would abandon me. They were both irresponsible and incompetent parents who exposed me to traumas that I would rather not remember.

As for Barbara professing her "love" for me, I have not seen any evidence of it in close to 20 years, and that's a very long time. Barbara's definition of love is a hackneyed sentimental term she uses to extract a response. Love is not something you say, it's something you do by staying in contact with a person, visiting, communicating, asking questions and answering them. You will remember that in the 16 years that I lived in California, Barbara only visited me one time. In the 11 years that I have lived in New York, she has never visited me.
In spite of the fact that it is always the parent's responsibility to guide their relationship with their children, on several occasions I have gone beyond the call of duty to visit her. But I will never make such an effort again.

The crux of my problem with Barbara comes from two sources. The first is Bob's bitter influence on her, which worked to separate our relationship just as Bob did with his own children with whom he has no association. In nearly 44 years of life, I have never met a meaner or more reprehensible Republican cur than Bob Chandler. I hope that you will e-mail me when he dies so that I can celebrate. Our mutual hatred has never been a secret, and it points out Barbara's proclivity to isolate herself via scurrilous mates.

The second and more compelling issue that permanently ruined my relationship with Barbara is the litany of lies she tells anyone who'll listen about the identity of my biological father and about her marriage history.

After lying to me about the identity of my father, Barbara refused to come clean and disclose the truth on the eve on my wedding. This might not sound much to you, but I assure you that I spent 15 years attempting to track down my real father with no help from the one person who could clear the air with a few words, your mother.

As it turns out, Barbara was never married to the man she swore was my real father (Jack Dale Smithey) and to whom she said she was married, but she was married to Ran Coleman Yeatts, a man who visited us when I was a child and who was always introduced as a "friend." I think the fact that Ran's middle name is "Coleman" tells you all you need to know about the true identity of my father. Realize here the double lie that Barbara told about who she had been married to. It's an example of pathological behavior.

Even in their handling of you when you were a child left alone everyday for years by an unfit baby sitter, Barbara and Bob proved themselves to be careless parents. Everyday of our lives, you and I both pay a price for our parents' selfishness. Bob and Barbara pay a bigger price. They are the lonely and tortured people that they imagined their enemies to be. That is a curse that I would not wish on my worst enemy, especially not my own family.

Yes, I have a great life living in New York City, seeing six movies a week and interviewing my heroes. I live with a wonderful women named Katherine, whose family treats me like one of their own. I play guitar in a Jazz combo every Wednesday night. I spend two weeks out of every year on the French Riviera at the Cannes Film Festival, and two weeks in California every Christmas with Katherine's family. I have everything that I have ever wanted except a mother's love.

The moral of the story here is that just because someone is a mother does not mean that they are automatically a good person or that they are capable of acting as a parent. When Barbara thinks of me every single day of her life, just as I think about her, she may not regret the many wasted days of opportunity she had to share a relationship with her first son. But she does regret the fact that the opportunity will never come again. The best she can hope for is to read every word that I write, in search of clues that will never come.

If you want a kick, Google my name and you'll see some of the many newspapers that run my stuff.

Go ahead and send your DVD to my address listed below. You and I may be related, but our mother only loves you.

Cole

Hey, Big Bro. :)

7/20/07

I hope you're doing well.

Anyhoo, I have a small favor to ask of you, I have previously submitted a video for Playstation's PaRappea [sic] the Rapper contest, and I am currently among the Top 10 Contestants. If I win the Grand Prize, I can take my Sweet Friend with me to the Penny Arcade Expo in Seattle, WA.

Please go to the (http://www.us.playstation.com/vote/parappatherapper/default.aspx ) Playstation Website's Voting Page, and Vote for me; I'm the Lucky 7th Video (the one with the Blue Guitar) Thank you, and I hope you all are still doing well. :)

Take care; Christian W. Chandler.

Re: Hey, Big Bro. :)

7/21/07

Before you ask any favors, you might want to consult your mother about the past 20 years of secrecy, neglect, avarice and coldness that have irreparably ruined her relationship with me.

Did Bob finally die?

Cole

Hey, Big Bro. :)

7/21/07

Joseph Cole Smithey, while I have an understanding of most of the events in momma's past, I am a man who does not judge one in regards of such unpleasentries.

Besides which, that is not the point; I have a chance to win a trip to Seattle, Washington, attend a big gaming event, possibly take a tour of Nintendo of America Inc, two PSPs with Parapper the Rapper [sic] games, and if I should win, I would take my sweet friend, Megan Schroeder. Although we are not yet on romantic conclusions, I still am fond of her and care about her very much.

I'm only requesting for a vote towards possible romance, towards a great gaming expierence I have not expierence before, and towards potental great footage on my next "CWC On TV" DVD that I will likely put together around my 50th or sooner.

On another topic, I have viewed your website numerous times, and I have enjoyed reading your well detailed reviews on the movies. I am looking forward to purchasing the DVDs for Grindhouse (Planet Terror/Death Proof), Aqua Teen Hunger Force:Movie Film For Theaters, possibly Spider-Man 3, and Transformers (I'm a total Autobot fan).

I hope you and your girlfriend are doing well and getting along, and I wish you two the best. And keep up the good work on your reviews. :)

Your Lil' Half bro; Christian W. Chandler

Re: Hey, Big Bro. :)

7/23/07

I'll make a deal with you. You find out the identity of my real father from Barbara and e-mail me the person's name, and I will vote for you in your effort to travel to Seattle.

Deal?

Cole

Cool.

7/23/07

Well, okay. I just checked with our mother, with total confidence, and upon random remembering, I thought for a moment "Ramblin'" Randy; boy was that a totally goofy misconception. Anyway, the name of your Biological father is Jack Dale Smithey.

Good luck finding anything about him on the web; he was (maybe is) a total drunk and loser. The only good things that came about in that marrage, said our mother, was the fancy wedding (it was a real sister-pleaser, and it pleased our grandmother as well; may she rest in peace), the love feeling that was there for a while, and

<The rest is cut off>

Re: Cool.

7/24/07

We have a problem. Jack Dale Smithey is not my biological father. Barbara lied to me in saying that she was married to Jack. However, I do have a copy of her marriage certificate to Ran Coleman Yeatts on June 16, 1961. It seems likely, since Ran's middle name is "Coleman" that this man is my biological father.

Check your information. I will only participate in our deal if I am convinced that the truth has been given.

Re: Cool.

7/24/07

I'd also like to add that Barbara never said anything about ever being married to Ran Coleman Yeatts. I would never have know about the marriage had I not made a special trip to Richmond to get copies of all her marriage certificates, which by the way did not include a certificate of marriage to Jerry Harmon - you figure that one out on your own.

Can you imagine having an essential part of your personal family history shrouded in mystery for 44 years because the one person who could clear the air insists on lying to you. After hiring a private detective to locate Jack Smithey in Sarasota, Florida and tracking him down, only to have Barbara hang up the phone in my face when I asked her about his revelations, I really don't give a fuck about her or about her fucking lies.

Just FYI. Cole

We have a problem.

7/24/07

We have a problem. Jack Dale Smithey is absolutely not my biological father.

Check your information. I will only participate in our deal if I am convinced that the truth has been given.

Barbara lied in even saying that she was ever married to Jack Dale Smithey. There is no marriage license to support her claim and no marriage photos.

However, I do have a copy of her marriage certificate to Ran Coleman Yeatts on June 16, 1961. It seems likely, since Ran's middle name is "Coleman," that this man is my biological father. However, Barbara never spoke of this marriage and Ran was a frequent visitor to our house when I was young as a "friend of the family." I would never have know about the marriage had I not made a special trip to Richmond to get copies of all her marriage certificates, which by the way did not include a certificate of marriage to Jerry Harmon - you figure that one out on your own.

Can you imagine having an essential part of your personal family history shrouded in mystery for 44 years because the one person who could clear the air insists on lying to you? After hiring a private detective to locate Jack Smithey in Sarasota, Florida and tracking him down, only to have Barbara hang up the phone in my face when I asked her about his revelations. Needless to say, I really don't give a fuck about Barbara or about her fucking lies.

Regarding "drunk losers." Bob and Barbara met at a bar that my good friend Chuck McGuigan worked at as a bartender, at the time. He witnessed first-hand Barbara and Bob acting out as a couple of drunken losers. It was an ugly episode that Chuck remembers vividly. We still talk about it to this day. Check that information out with your parents.

You have to remember kid, I've been around a lot longer than you, and I know a lot more about Bob and Barbara than even they know I know. Good luck.

Kindest regards, Cole Smithey 212-369-3937 www.ColeSmithey.com

Cole Smithey - Independent Voice Of Film Criticism Since 1997 Managing Editor Cole Smithey Entertainment Syndicate

Re: We have a problem

7/24/07

Have you started to wonder why it is that you have this "misconception" about who my father. I would submit that since Barbara was never married to Jack, and my name "Cole" matches up with the middle name of the man she never told you she was actually married to (I have proof right here in my hand) Ran Coleman Yeatts.

Your mother has spun a wicked web of lies, and she is the only one who can sort them out. As I told you, I don't give a fuck about her lies. I'm not so interested as to seek out and pay for an expensive DNA test to tell me what I already know -- that Jack Dale Smithey is not my father.

Let me know when that fuck Bob finally drops.

Kindest regards, Cole Smithey 212-369-3937 www.ColeSmithey.com

Cole Smithey - Independent Voice Of Film Criticism Since 1997 Managing Editor Cole Smithey Entertainment Syndicate National, International, Regional Print and Online Media Daily, Weekly, Monthly and Bi-Monthly Print Media

STAFF FILM EDITOR for London's montly "THE LOCAL MAG" Member of OFCS (Online Film Critics Society) since 2005

125 E 90th Street #3B New York NY 10128

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