Dear Mom...

Since you died on July 31, 2003 my life has changed a lot.
I lost forever that day the sense that someone (you) always had my back. That now makes me unsure of my choices in life, lest I screw something up.
No longer boldly going into unknown frontiers suits me now, just as attacking each one I encountered suited my younger self. Now I must admit my hard charging choices before your death were not great either but at least I advanced unafraid of consequences. Despite my best efforts to produce a grandchild you could love, none of my three wives turned out to be breeders. Despite my professional efforts from 1963 through 2004, I filed bankruptcy.
So in summary, your only child loves you and misses you more than ever. Please forgive me for falling short.

Life is sweet, until it is not.

The Day After...

Yesterday marked the fiftieth anniversary of meeting my high school sweetheart and first wife.

July 24,1966 was also a Sunday and I decided to attend the rock n roll dance at Rockland Lake Quarry outside Toledo with my pals from our own rock n roll band called The Mystic Eyes. We would begin our senior year in high school that September and we all worshiped The Beatles.

I first saw her long legs in gold short shorts before I looked into her eyes and lost my way for the next eleven years. Making wise guy comments about the band that was playing made her smile at first, then when she laughed out loud, I felt a rush of confidence and exhilaration unknown to me before that moment.

We went out every night the rest of the summer of 1966, then eloped in late December 1967.

Each of us graduated college, then divorced in 1977.

Life is sweet, until it is not.

More July

I feel better now.

My mental health issues manifested overtly and triggered my paranoia and hostility.

Can't say why. 

Just like always,this too passes.

Life is sweet until it is not.

One more week of July to go.

July happens...

More July is happening.
My family life, such as it is, disintegrated yesterday.
My modern family has included Jerry, who turned 30 yesterday, his mother Myerl, brother Peter, sister Denise, nephews Damian and Evan and his dog Phineas.
It all started when Myerl began my day by telling me that she and Denise the night before had attended a 30th birthday party for Jerry in a downtown LA high rise.
My reaction was predictable for someone with my unique set of neuroses: anger, depression, isolation, hostility, self-destruction.
Childish response I know, but an entirely involuntary, instinctive one without alternative after 66 years of this lifetime offering up one act of disrespect and betrayal after the next.

I now am back in my natural state as a lone wolf.

Wooooo!!!

Bye bye Mom...

July is back.
I hate July.
My Mom died in July.
On the 31st, in 2003.

Bye,bye Mom...

6-1-16

6-1-1-6 is the way numerologists refer to today.

Kinda cool if you ask me.

What is your favorite number?

Mine is my birthday, 13.

May 31...welcome Summer2016!

Order breeds contentment and yet my default has always been disorder.
At certain times in my life, circumstances have led me to a life without clutter. Rarely lasts long, and it is always driven by some other person, most usually a wife going through the sad steps of understanding that my cheerful cooperation with the latest Neatness Rules ought not be confused with my ability or indeed, intention, to reform my pack rat ways. OCD is a thing now but I have seen it first hand since the 1950s in members of my own family. My Dad always checked our stove many times before he ever left the house.
My own neuroses have existed and grown or tempered themselves since I was a young boy. Today I no longer fight them and my life runs much smoother.
Withe the preceding as preamble to this blog entry, I hereby say welcome to Summer2016!

Surf's up!

Hang ten!