It’s been a while since I could sit down and put the next chapter into words and do it justice. I think that’s because it represents one of the big turning points of my life. In fact, I’m going to bring this part of my “Life Blog” to an end as soon as this part is done. I’ll call it Book One. Not that things changed radically all at once, but I definitely went in another direction after Jan and I met.
Date One
I was pretty damn nervous as I wheeled my Nerdmobile Ford Maverick (no heater included) into the Video City parking lot that Friday night. I hadn’t been on anything like a real date in many months and my self- confidence was at a low ebb. Did I still have the flashing red light on my head? Only time would tell.
I picked up Jan and we headed out to the comedy club. I picked that as a safe place since I knew she at least had a sense of humor. On the way to the club we exchanged the usual small talk. She asked me about my kids and I told her about PJ and Jessica. She got a strange look on her face but I didn’t ask about that. Then she told me about a funny thing that had happened at the store. One of her co-workers had a cat that had had kittens. She couldn’t keep the litter at her home so she brought hem to the store to give them away. Her sales pitch consisted of handing the customer their movie then reaching into the box behind the counter, saying “OK, here’s your tape and here’s your kitten!” It worked, and she was able to give them all away in a day. They were strange cats, too. Each one had six toes.
We got to the club and saw that the star that night was Chicago Steve. I had heard him riffing with a local DJ on a San Francisco rock station so I knew he was funny. We settled in, got our drinks and chuckled at the warmup acts. Then Chicago Steve came onstage. He got us going with a snappy routine, getting lots of laughs. Then he told us about a true funny story that had happened to him at his local video store: “I went up to the counter to get my movie, right? So the girl behind the counter hands me my tape and says: ‘Here’s your movie and here’s your kitten!’ How weird is that? Here’s the kicker: the cat had six toes!” I looked at Jan, “Tell me you know this guy. You set this up, right?” “No”, she said, “I’ve never seen this guy before.”
Later on Steve was riffing away and pointed at Jan and me. “Hey, you two together?” We looked at each other. “What’s the matter, not sure yet?” No, not yet.
After the show Jan told me why she had looked a little startled when I mentioned my kids’ names. Seems that years before she had decided that if she had a boy and a girl she would name them Peter and Jessica. Guess that put those two names out of the running. Besides, who said we were ever going to get married?
I got her home and we sat out front talking for a bit. Then came the “Well, OK, goodnight”, “Goodnight”, etc. I turned to give her a kiss on the cheek and she turned to kiss me not on the cheek and wham! I stuck my nose in her eye. Smooth operator, that’s me. A quick peck and she was gone. Date number one over.
Next day I figured the best thing to do would be to send flowers to her at work with a nice note. I’m sure her coworkers were suitably impressed. This was a real change from the all-consuming passion that marked the beginning of my previous relationship. Much quieter, but it felt warm and non life-threatening.
Yeah, I’m a Hero
Jan had moved out to California from the Midwest with a group of friends. An interesting lot, including one fellow who decided he was going to run the show. There was Jan, her best friend Carrie, another girl and the two guys, including Mister All That. Jan and I went on another date at a local burger joint and I had a chance to meet them all, including Carrie's brother Andy. I got the sense that the group did what MAT wanted to do. There were "rules" around the house about who got to get high and when, a routine for watching TV and a certain watchfulness on group behavior. I represented a change from that norm, and MAT was not happy with my presence. I liked to comment on movies, be spontaneous; you know, be human.
One day I called Jan and got a busy signal. Then I called again. And again. After about 90 minutes of this I said "Screw it" and drove over there. "Somebody" at the house had left the phone off the hook and I knew who that was. I spent a lot of time over there and made my contempt for him and the groupies obvious. Carrie and Jan were pretty happy that things were starting to change, and finally the stalemate broke. MAT, along with the other girl and guy, decided to move out, citing all sorts of terrible transgressions and personal hurts. Damn shame.
I was living with the meth freak and now we could all solve our problems by jettisoning the people who were dragging us down. I told the girls:"And the windows will be thrown open, the sun will shine upon our faces and the birds will sing. This is the beginning of a new day."
Odds & Ends
Living in the house on Hillsborough Avenue in Concord, CA was a time of healing, transition, and downright weirdness at times. For our first Christmas together I got Jan a set of earrings. I put them in a nice little box then put that box in a giant TV box filled with paper and weighted down with a tool box full of rocks.
So many other memories, best done in montage: The night Haley's Comet came and we all floated through the neighborhood, nearly suffocated in our house and watched the sun come up over Mount Diablo. The day the ceiling fell in while my ex was there picking up the kids. My very brief rapprochement with Lani. Buying my kickass Toyota 4x4. Continuing my hop from lab to lab. An epic Halloween party where I seared my nostrils on some truly bad speed. Going back to Virginia for the SMA reunion. I decided to ask Jan to marry me on that trip. A very nice wedding indeed. A garden of delights, literally! Home improvement projects, kids, pets, Little League, soccer, judo, schools, teachers, coaches.........the mind boggles. Where did the time go?
Oh yeah, and the time we rescued Mervyn. You remember, the cat that my evil roomie was abusing. I went to Sacramento to visit relatives and while I was there Jan stole him from the witch girl and we raised him as our own. He lived to nearly 13 years old, pretty good when you consider the treatment he had received.
I felt stronger every day, and Jan and I had a relationship that was growing the way a good one should. We had started as friends and took it one day at a time. Boring? We are still together to this day, partners in Life.
"And in the End
The Love you Take
Is Equal to the Love You Make"
End of Book One
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Chapter Forty-Five: One More Small Bump
"Welcome to your life
There's no turning back
Even while we sleep
We will find you Acting on your best behaviour
Turn your back on mother nature
Everybody wants to rule the world..."
The Long and Winding Road
As I cruised ever so slowly up California Highway 101 from Ventura, towing the U-Haul trailer behind with my poor little Maverick, I had time to think. Every mile under my wheels brought me closer and closer to Lani and the kids. I was excited about getting back to more contact with PJ and Jessi but feeling a knot in the pit of my stomach over being so close to Lani again. She was my Kryptonite, I was powerless against her. I had such a burning desire for her that being summarily dismissed as I was had not stilled my beating heart. And it came down to physical proximity. I could talk to her well enough on the phone but face to face I started turning into a puddle of goo.
Didn't matter. Man's gotta do what he's gotta do.
The New Grind
I had rented an apartment in Walnut Creek for cheap and I moved right in. The reasons for the cheapness were two: 1) A home nearby had recently burned to the ground and had caught the roof above my place on fire as well. The firefighters got it out quickly but the place smelled like mildew and burnt wood. Yum. And 2) In a year the whole place was going to be torn down to put up an office complex.
The one hazard the property manager didn't tell me about was the squirrels. Damn things had found their way into the attic through the burned spot and had set up housekeeping. Memories of the dancing rats of SMA ran through my head when night after night the furry bastards would run across my ceiling, apparently bent on driving me insane. One early morning I had had enough and stood on a chair screaming at the fuckers, pounding on the ceiling. "Aaaaagghhh! Get the hell out of here, motherfuckers!" BAM BAM BAM CRUNCH! The "crunch" was my fist going through to the attic. While it was pretty unsightly, the squirrels were gone for good.
The guys next door were not much help either. I worked the night shift, so I had to try sleeping during the day. It was hard enough without the drunken frat boys waking up at the crack of noon and partying til dinner. What did they do for a living? I didn't think the "fist through the wall" maneuver would work as well with them. Grin N bear it.
The lab job was...another lab job. No more, no less. The work flow was identical to the place in Hawaii, the machines carbon copies of so many others. The people were tolerable, but it takes a certain kind of person to work the graveyard in a production job. If you were willing to hang out after work and watch the sun come up over breakfast/dinner, trying to have some kind of social life with a very limited group of people the job was great. I wanted to split my time between that world and the daytime one to be with the kids. Sleep? I'll do that when I'm dead. Believe me, I heard that a lot from my co-workers.
The layout of the place was kind of funky. Where the Hawaii lab had been spread out over a large single floor, this one was split between four floors of an old office building in downtown Oakland. The elevator was right out of 1929, with a folding gate and no door. One had to reach up and manually disengage the kill switch, then press the floor button. The elevator would take off and only stop when the switch was released. With practice I was able to step on, rise, and step off without hesitating or closing the gate. That was the most interesting part of the job. The rest was the same boring crap that I tried to look interested in.
One evening I was slogging through another shift when Mike the Manager called me up to the exec offices on the fourth floor. When I entered the office I saw Grady the general manager there with him. Uh-oh. This was getting all deja vu-y on me. Right on schedule I had worn out my welcome. This time it only took a few months for them to get tired of my act. And it was such a good act! Another exit interview, another severance check, another slow ride home. But you know, this time I didn't feel panicked at all. I was relieved. They had seen something I was denying: This crap was not for me, not at this time. It was time to simplify, pare down. No more management jobs. I was happiest as a worker bee and that's what I would go for next.
Keep On Smilin'
Dad always said that to me. Now it was time to start living it. Next day I got the paper and scanned it for photo jobs in my area. I came upon one in Walnut Creek and decided to go for it. I called the manager and we had a brief phone interview. He told me to grab a resume and come on down. So I hopped on my bike and hit the road. As I spun along the Iron Horse Regional Trail
I smiled at the thought of going back to good old lab work, nobody to answer for but myself. The early Spring weather had me feeling alright, maybe just a bit too good. As I whipped between a couple of poles set in the trail to keep cars off, my hand nicked one and went flying out behind me. I felt a jab of pain and I pulled over to check it out. Oh my. Middle fingers aren't supposed to jut out at a 30 degree angle at the center, are they? No. Guess the interview will have to wait. I pedaled slowly home and drove myself to the emergency room, where i got a quick tug to match the bones back up and a splint with a cast. Now for the interview.
While I was waiting for the doctors to set me up I was thinking about all the ways I could still do a lab job with a cast on my wrist. By the time I got to the interview I had it all figured, and I impressed the manager with the stuff I could do. He was curious about why I wasn't looking for a managerial job myself, worried that I might jump at one and leave him high and dry. I told him not to worry. I was done with that gig for a good long time. A little Ed's Recent Adventures with Three-Part Harmony and he was convinced. Welcome back to the hive, little worker bee.
"Its my own design
Its my own remorse
Help me to decide
Help me make the most
Of freedom and of pleasure
Nothing ever lasts forever
Everybody wants to rule the world"
New Digs
I also needed to get out of the stinking, squirrel-infested apartment. I saw an ad for a room rental that would knock $100 off my rent payment so I took it. The young girl, Chris, who rented the place had a spare room and I was a sublet, less than legal.
What a setup. She was 19 and, I found out later, a meth head. We never got close. In fact, she told her friends that I was a loner type who didn't like talking to people, so none of them ever had a word to say to me. She had two cats, one a female tabby and the other a friendly, tuxedo-clad fellow named Mervyn. I loved that cat, though it was maddening when he raided the trash can, knocking it over and scattering stuff like a raccoon. Chris insisted he should never go outside, and he worked tirelessly to defy her. Whenever he made it out she would drag him back in and scrub the bejesus out of him in the bathtub, slapping him and shouting the whole time. It was a crime. One she would not get away with.
So my new day to day became simpler. Wake up, nice breakfast, bike to a job I loved, bike home, rent a movie. Weekends I would spend time with the kids. They stayed with me for overnights and we spent a lot of time at parks and the mall. Malls are a divorced Dad haven. Lots of cool stuff to look at and a center court for play in any weather. I couldn't afford much more but that wasn't the point. I felt a great sadness every Sunday night when I would have to drive them back to Lani's folks' place and drop them off. It was hardest on PJ, who would cry and hold tightly to my leg or try to block the door. I found myself sitting in my car with tears in my eyes, trying to drive away without running into anything.
A Fortuitous Meeting
My only real entertainment besides long bike rides was watching videotapes. My buddy Jim had introduced me to his friend Rick, who managed a video store. Rick had been with us the night I left Lani and he and I had bonded over the many lines of coke and cans of brew consumed that night. We also had a great barter agreement: I would develop and print film for him and he provided me with a never-ending video rental account. I would stop in once or twice a week and pick up three movies: a new release, a classic and a porno. Once I had them all memorized I would get a refill and start all over again.
One day I was returning my tapes and a cute girl was working the counter. I had seen her there before from time to time. Her name was Jan and she was the company's relief manager, on duty at various locations when the regular manager had a day off. She took a look at the movies I was returning and gave me a grin. "Airplane, huh? You have to have a pretty weird sense of humor to like a movie like that."
"Is there something wrong with having a weird sense of humor?"
"No, no. I like weird people."
OK, time for the Mr. Suave act, voice included..."Really? So, what are you doing on Friday night?"
"Nothing, really."
"Ah."
Then I took my new videos and went home.
I was about halfway through dinner when the thought suddenly hit me: "Nothing, really." So...she...was saying...that she...would like to....go out with...me? Man, I had taken this laid-back approach way too seriously! What the hell was I thinking?
Next day I was off, so I waited until the place opened at noon and pedaled on down there to follow up. God only knows what she had been thinking. "Is he gay or something? No, I see he rents all hetero porn so that's not it. Is he slow?"
Yes, I was slow. On the uptake. But now I was oh so confident and ready to jump back into the pool. I glided on up to the store and walked in like Alexi Grewal. And she wasn't there.
"Check the Concord store, dude", said the slacker at the counter. Back on the road.
I enjoyed the sight of myself whizzing past the store windows at the Concord store and strode forth, my longish hair blown out behind like a freak flag. There stood Jan, admiring my form in those tight cycling shorts.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"So, were you serious about being free on Friday night?"
"Yeah. Were you serious about asking me out?"
"Yeah."
"OK"
"Well then, um, I guess I'll see you at around 7 on Friday. OK?"
"OK"
"OK. Ah, see you."
"Bye."
This is the stuff of great literature. But hey, I had a date for the first time in too long and it was looking good for Mister Ed.
Chapter 46: Some Endings, New Beginnings, Three Dates and a Wedding
There's no turning back
Even while we sleep
We will find you Acting on your best behaviour
Turn your back on mother nature
Everybody wants to rule the world..."
The Long and Winding Road
As I cruised ever so slowly up California Highway 101 from Ventura, towing the U-Haul trailer behind with my poor little Maverick, I had time to think. Every mile under my wheels brought me closer and closer to Lani and the kids. I was excited about getting back to more contact with PJ and Jessi but feeling a knot in the pit of my stomach over being so close to Lani again. She was my Kryptonite, I was powerless against her. I had such a burning desire for her that being summarily dismissed as I was had not stilled my beating heart. And it came down to physical proximity. I could talk to her well enough on the phone but face to face I started turning into a puddle of goo.
Didn't matter. Man's gotta do what he's gotta do.
The New Grind
I had rented an apartment in Walnut Creek for cheap and I moved right in. The reasons for the cheapness were two: 1) A home nearby had recently burned to the ground and had caught the roof above my place on fire as well. The firefighters got it out quickly but the place smelled like mildew and burnt wood. Yum. And 2) In a year the whole place was going to be torn down to put up an office complex.
The one hazard the property manager didn't tell me about was the squirrels. Damn things had found their way into the attic through the burned spot and had set up housekeeping. Memories of the dancing rats of SMA ran through my head when night after night the furry bastards would run across my ceiling, apparently bent on driving me insane. One early morning I had had enough and stood on a chair screaming at the fuckers, pounding on the ceiling. "Aaaaagghhh! Get the hell out of here, motherfuckers!" BAM BAM BAM CRUNCH! The "crunch" was my fist going through to the attic. While it was pretty unsightly, the squirrels were gone for good.
The guys next door were not much help either. I worked the night shift, so I had to try sleeping during the day. It was hard enough without the drunken frat boys waking up at the crack of noon and partying til dinner. What did they do for a living? I didn't think the "fist through the wall" maneuver would work as well with them. Grin N bear it.
The lab job was...another lab job. No more, no less. The work flow was identical to the place in Hawaii, the machines carbon copies of so many others. The people were tolerable, but it takes a certain kind of person to work the graveyard in a production job. If you were willing to hang out after work and watch the sun come up over breakfast/dinner, trying to have some kind of social life with a very limited group of people the job was great. I wanted to split my time between that world and the daytime one to be with the kids. Sleep? I'll do that when I'm dead. Believe me, I heard that a lot from my co-workers.
The layout of the place was kind of funky. Where the Hawaii lab had been spread out over a large single floor, this one was split between four floors of an old office building in downtown Oakland. The elevator was right out of 1929, with a folding gate and no door. One had to reach up and manually disengage the kill switch, then press the floor button. The elevator would take off and only stop when the switch was released. With practice I was able to step on, rise, and step off without hesitating or closing the gate. That was the most interesting part of the job. The rest was the same boring crap that I tried to look interested in.
One evening I was slogging through another shift when Mike the Manager called me up to the exec offices on the fourth floor. When I entered the office I saw Grady the general manager there with him. Uh-oh. This was getting all deja vu-y on me. Right on schedule I had worn out my welcome. This time it only took a few months for them to get tired of my act. And it was such a good act! Another exit interview, another severance check, another slow ride home. But you know, this time I didn't feel panicked at all. I was relieved. They had seen something I was denying: This crap was not for me, not at this time. It was time to simplify, pare down. No more management jobs. I was happiest as a worker bee and that's what I would go for next.
Keep On Smilin'
Dad always said that to me. Now it was time to start living it. Next day I got the paper and scanned it for photo jobs in my area. I came upon one in Walnut Creek and decided to go for it. I called the manager and we had a brief phone interview. He told me to grab a resume and come on down. So I hopped on my bike and hit the road. As I spun along the Iron Horse Regional Trail
I smiled at the thought of going back to good old lab work, nobody to answer for but myself. The early Spring weather had me feeling alright, maybe just a bit too good. As I whipped between a couple of poles set in the trail to keep cars off, my hand nicked one and went flying out behind me. I felt a jab of pain and I pulled over to check it out. Oh my. Middle fingers aren't supposed to jut out at a 30 degree angle at the center, are they? No. Guess the interview will have to wait. I pedaled slowly home and drove myself to the emergency room, where i got a quick tug to match the bones back up and a splint with a cast. Now for the interview.
While I was waiting for the doctors to set me up I was thinking about all the ways I could still do a lab job with a cast on my wrist. By the time I got to the interview I had it all figured, and I impressed the manager with the stuff I could do. He was curious about why I wasn't looking for a managerial job myself, worried that I might jump at one and leave him high and dry. I told him not to worry. I was done with that gig for a good long time. A little Ed's Recent Adventures with Three-Part Harmony and he was convinced. Welcome back to the hive, little worker bee.
"Its my own design
Its my own remorse
Help me to decide
Help me make the most
Of freedom and of pleasure
Nothing ever lasts forever
Everybody wants to rule the world"
New Digs
I also needed to get out of the stinking, squirrel-infested apartment. I saw an ad for a room rental that would knock $100 off my rent payment so I took it. The young girl, Chris, who rented the place had a spare room and I was a sublet, less than legal.
What a setup. She was 19 and, I found out later, a meth head. We never got close. In fact, she told her friends that I was a loner type who didn't like talking to people, so none of them ever had a word to say to me. She had two cats, one a female tabby and the other a friendly, tuxedo-clad fellow named Mervyn. I loved that cat, though it was maddening when he raided the trash can, knocking it over and scattering stuff like a raccoon. Chris insisted he should never go outside, and he worked tirelessly to defy her. Whenever he made it out she would drag him back in and scrub the bejesus out of him in the bathtub, slapping him and shouting the whole time. It was a crime. One she would not get away with.
So my new day to day became simpler. Wake up, nice breakfast, bike to a job I loved, bike home, rent a movie. Weekends I would spend time with the kids. They stayed with me for overnights and we spent a lot of time at parks and the mall. Malls are a divorced Dad haven. Lots of cool stuff to look at and a center court for play in any weather. I couldn't afford much more but that wasn't the point. I felt a great sadness every Sunday night when I would have to drive them back to Lani's folks' place and drop them off. It was hardest on PJ, who would cry and hold tightly to my leg or try to block the door. I found myself sitting in my car with tears in my eyes, trying to drive away without running into anything.
A Fortuitous Meeting
My only real entertainment besides long bike rides was watching videotapes. My buddy Jim had introduced me to his friend Rick, who managed a video store. Rick had been with us the night I left Lani and he and I had bonded over the many lines of coke and cans of brew consumed that night. We also had a great barter agreement: I would develop and print film for him and he provided me with a never-ending video rental account. I would stop in once or twice a week and pick up three movies: a new release, a classic and a porno. Once I had them all memorized I would get a refill and start all over again.
One day I was returning my tapes and a cute girl was working the counter. I had seen her there before from time to time. Her name was Jan and she was the company's relief manager, on duty at various locations when the regular manager had a day off. She took a look at the movies I was returning and gave me a grin. "Airplane, huh? You have to have a pretty weird sense of humor to like a movie like that."
"Is there something wrong with having a weird sense of humor?"
"No, no. I like weird people."
OK, time for the Mr. Suave act, voice included..."Really? So, what are you doing on Friday night?"
"Nothing, really."
"Ah."
Then I took my new videos and went home.
I was about halfway through dinner when the thought suddenly hit me: "Nothing, really." So...she...was saying...that she...would like to....go out with...me? Man, I had taken this laid-back approach way too seriously! What the hell was I thinking?
Next day I was off, so I waited until the place opened at noon and pedaled on down there to follow up. God only knows what she had been thinking. "Is he gay or something? No, I see he rents all hetero porn so that's not it. Is he slow?"
Yes, I was slow. On the uptake. But now I was oh so confident and ready to jump back into the pool. I glided on up to the store and walked in like Alexi Grewal. And she wasn't there.
"Check the Concord store, dude", said the slacker at the counter. Back on the road.
I enjoyed the sight of myself whizzing past the store windows at the Concord store and strode forth, my longish hair blown out behind like a freak flag. There stood Jan, admiring my form in those tight cycling shorts.
"Hi."
"Hi."
"So, were you serious about being free on Friday night?"
"Yeah. Were you serious about asking me out?"
"Yeah."
"OK"
"Well then, um, I guess I'll see you at around 7 on Friday. OK?"
"OK"
"OK. Ah, see you."
"Bye."
This is the stuff of great literature. But hey, I had a date for the first time in too long and it was looking good for Mister Ed.
Chapter 46: Some Endings, New Beginnings, Three Dates and a Wedding
Friday, August 14, 2009
Chapter Forty-Four: The Human Trampoline
"Keep on rollin'...keep on rollin'...oooooooooooooo"
Roll with the Changes
With renewed energy I decided I'd spent enough time watching TV, reading dime-store sci-fi and whacking off and now it was time to get out into the world again. Where to start? To be truthful, the dating scene had been a complete disaster. I remembered thinking while I was still married that I "wish I knew then what I know now". I had this idea that I was so much more sophisticated and confident around women. Getting one (or more) to come home with me would be easy. Right. I dated more than a dozen women over the course of six months or so...once each. No matter how smooth I thought I was or laid back or whatever, the night would end quickly. One young lass slammed the door in my face so quickly I almost kissed the doorknob. There was that damn red light on my head again.
So much for that. Instead I bent my energies toward diversifying my interests. I saw an ad in the paper for an internship at a local cable TV station. They wanted people to learn camera work for sporting events and meetings. Perfect. I attended the orientation class and got signed up for the program. I joined Big Brothers as a way to get back in touch with some day-to-day fathering experience. I rode my bike competitively. I resolved to make myself healthy again and show Lani and the kids that I would not give up trying to be a better person.
And then Life came along and set up those stupid orange cones you so hate to see out on the road. "Detour Ahead", said the big sign and oh, shit what a left turn it was.
One Exile to Another
I was at the lab one sunny morning talking to my pal Peggy. I was telling her about all the cool things that were happening in my life. I knew she worried about me and I wanted her to know that the whole killing myself thing was in the past. I was bubbling over with joy at all the possibilities laid out before me. Peggy seemed oddly detached, as if something were bothering her.
"What's the matter, Peg? Aren't you happy for me?"
"Yes of course I'm happy. You seem to be trying to do an awful lot at once, though."
"Yeah, but it feels good to have something to do. For the first time since all this crap started I feel like it's all coming together again. Like it's going back to normal."
Just then the owner, Pete Jaffe, came into the lab. He passed Peggy and me with a quiet "Hello" and went into the manager's office. I puttered around the lab, putting film into the processor and cleaning up. The manager came out and asked me to come into the office.
I'll spare the dialogue, since after all it's always been the same. I'm not fitting in with the new manager, I'm depressing the coworkers, my attitude sucks. Take your pick. Bottom line: Fired again. Some nice severance in the form of three separate checks that will keep me from being immediately broke. But with that my five year, on and off again relationship with Jaffe's Camera came to a screeching halt.
I rode my bike home through the cold, my mind alternating between anger and fear, trying to see the way out of this newest smackdown. I went home and immediately checked the paper for jobs in my field. No dice. Over the next several days I knocked on every door, followed every lead I thought would get me on my feet again but it just wasn't going to work. I had definitely worn out my welcome in SoCal. As I saw it, it was time to go North again and get closer to those kids, be some kind of Dad.
So Long and WTF?
I started checking the out of town papers and found a few promising leads in the SF Bay Area. Over one long weekend I went to visit four different photo labs within a 100-mile radius. I got a really nice job offer from a place in Petaluma, just an hour from where Lani and the kids lived. That would maintain some small separation from her but be close enough that we could exchange the kids in a central place when they visited me.
I got a call from another lab after I had agreed over the phone to take the Petaluma job. This place was in Oakland, much closer to the kids and the pay was better. After talking to Mike, the plant manager, I decided to go with them. They even threw in moving expenses. Sweet!
With so little stuff to my name it didn't take long to pack everything up and get ready to go. The day before I left I was back in my room when there was a knock on the door. Dale, the crazy guy who owned the place, answered and I heard him say: "He's right here. Do you want me to get him?" I heard a soft female voice but couldn't make out the words. The door closed and Dale came back and handed me an envelope.
"Some Asian girl just dropped this off for you."
Asian girl? I don't.....wait. The only Asian girl I knew was the young lady at the stationery store next to the lab. I had gone in there many times to buy paper, envelopes, stamps and little books and such to send the kids. I had spoken with the girl at the counter and we shared stories of our lives but I had never gotten the idea that we were more than platonic friends.
The letter begged to differ. I cannot quote it now, but in reading the two neatly-penned pages I saw that she had grown quite fond of me and was heartbroken that I had not told her I was fired or that I was leaving. I went to the store but they told me she had left for a few days. Man, just how blind could I be? It had been a heartbreaking experience for me to have to call my Little Brother, Terry, and tell him that yet another man in his life was walking out on him. He had said, "Yeah, great, good luck man" and hung up on me.
So my mood was anything but festive as I gunned the motor on my 1970 Ford Maverick and pulled away from the Ventura city limits, bound for points North. How do I disappointeth thee? Let me count the ways....
45: The Oxi-Clean of the Melodramatic Blog!
Roll with the Changes
With renewed energy I decided I'd spent enough time watching TV, reading dime-store sci-fi and whacking off and now it was time to get out into the world again. Where to start? To be truthful, the dating scene had been a complete disaster. I remembered thinking while I was still married that I "wish I knew then what I know now". I had this idea that I was so much more sophisticated and confident around women. Getting one (or more) to come home with me would be easy. Right. I dated more than a dozen women over the course of six months or so...once each. No matter how smooth I thought I was or laid back or whatever, the night would end quickly. One young lass slammed the door in my face so quickly I almost kissed the doorknob. There was that damn red light on my head again.
So much for that. Instead I bent my energies toward diversifying my interests. I saw an ad in the paper for an internship at a local cable TV station. They wanted people to learn camera work for sporting events and meetings. Perfect. I attended the orientation class and got signed up for the program. I joined Big Brothers as a way to get back in touch with some day-to-day fathering experience. I rode my bike competitively. I resolved to make myself healthy again and show Lani and the kids that I would not give up trying to be a better person.
And then Life came along and set up those stupid orange cones you so hate to see out on the road. "Detour Ahead", said the big sign and oh, shit what a left turn it was.
One Exile to Another
I was at the lab one sunny morning talking to my pal Peggy. I was telling her about all the cool things that were happening in my life. I knew she worried about me and I wanted her to know that the whole killing myself thing was in the past. I was bubbling over with joy at all the possibilities laid out before me. Peggy seemed oddly detached, as if something were bothering her.
"What's the matter, Peg? Aren't you happy for me?"
"Yes of course I'm happy. You seem to be trying to do an awful lot at once, though."
"Yeah, but it feels good to have something to do. For the first time since all this crap started I feel like it's all coming together again. Like it's going back to normal."
Just then the owner, Pete Jaffe, came into the lab. He passed Peggy and me with a quiet "Hello" and went into the manager's office. I puttered around the lab, putting film into the processor and cleaning up. The manager came out and asked me to come into the office.
I'll spare the dialogue, since after all it's always been the same. I'm not fitting in with the new manager, I'm depressing the coworkers, my attitude sucks. Take your pick. Bottom line: Fired again. Some nice severance in the form of three separate checks that will keep me from being immediately broke. But with that my five year, on and off again relationship with Jaffe's Camera came to a screeching halt.
I rode my bike home through the cold, my mind alternating between anger and fear, trying to see the way out of this newest smackdown. I went home and immediately checked the paper for jobs in my field. No dice. Over the next several days I knocked on every door, followed every lead I thought would get me on my feet again but it just wasn't going to work. I had definitely worn out my welcome in SoCal. As I saw it, it was time to go North again and get closer to those kids, be some kind of Dad.
So Long and WTF?
I started checking the out of town papers and found a few promising leads in the SF Bay Area. Over one long weekend I went to visit four different photo labs within a 100-mile radius. I got a really nice job offer from a place in Petaluma, just an hour from where Lani and the kids lived. That would maintain some small separation from her but be close enough that we could exchange the kids in a central place when they visited me.
I got a call from another lab after I had agreed over the phone to take the Petaluma job. This place was in Oakland, much closer to the kids and the pay was better. After talking to Mike, the plant manager, I decided to go with them. They even threw in moving expenses. Sweet!
With so little stuff to my name it didn't take long to pack everything up and get ready to go. The day before I left I was back in my room when there was a knock on the door. Dale, the crazy guy who owned the place, answered and I heard him say: "He's right here. Do you want me to get him?" I heard a soft female voice but couldn't make out the words. The door closed and Dale came back and handed me an envelope.
"Some Asian girl just dropped this off for you."
Asian girl? I don't.....wait. The only Asian girl I knew was the young lady at the stationery store next to the lab. I had gone in there many times to buy paper, envelopes, stamps and little books and such to send the kids. I had spoken with the girl at the counter and we shared stories of our lives but I had never gotten the idea that we were more than platonic friends.
The letter begged to differ. I cannot quote it now, but in reading the two neatly-penned pages I saw that she had grown quite fond of me and was heartbroken that I had not told her I was fired or that I was leaving. I went to the store but they told me she had left for a few days. Man, just how blind could I be? It had been a heartbreaking experience for me to have to call my Little Brother, Terry, and tell him that yet another man in his life was walking out on him. He had said, "Yeah, great, good luck man" and hung up on me.
So my mood was anything but festive as I gunned the motor on my 1970 Ford Maverick and pulled away from the Ventura city limits, bound for points North. How do I disappointeth thee? Let me count the ways....
45: The Oxi-Clean of the Melodramatic Blog!
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