El vacation mojado!

July ends tomorrow. We're in Sarasota, and it's raining. "It never rains in Sarasota, but boy, don't they warn 'ya, it pours, man it pours." It promises rain all week; its been raining since we arrived! What happened to the famous Sarasota drought? It ended when our vacation began.

We drove down. Stefan's friend came with us. They're already bored; but they're also exhausted. Obviously, they're having too much fun to realize it. But that's a kid for you. They're too busy to know they're not bored.

I'm doing the language class, walking regularly, eating good food, baking, sleeping lots. Vacation. Not a beach person any more, except maybe to walk along the shore at dusk and remember how it used to be. Speaking of which....

My ex-neighbor lives down here now, so I've been seeing her. That's fun. We talk a lot about me moving down here; I'm game. I just need a job to make the move. I could live without New Jersey...its downright ridiculous... always escalating taxes, corrupt politicians, congestion. It's down here, too, I know, but its starting point is less, which means less tax, fewer crooks, less people in every neighborhood. Less can be a great thing! I've already sent out a resume. I'm ready to make the move. Boy am I ready!

A foreign desire

I've long had an obssession with people born outside the US. Perhaps it started when I was a teen with my Welshman who had a voice I still treasure today, but it developed from there. All through college, my dearest friends were from India and the UAE. In fact, I married a Greek from Africa who spoke Ethiopian. Some of my favorite performers have also been from anywhere else... Italy, Spain, France.

I admire those who can speak multiple languages fluently. There aren't many Americans who can start a conversation in English and finish it in Arabic. It's a talent all by itself...one I've never had.

Maybe that's why I value it so much; we always want what we can't have. But why can't I have it? 'I don't need it' is the best excuse; 'I'd never use it' is another. And there's also the fact that I can't roll my r's. Only foreigners seem to do that well.

But wouldn't it be nice? Speaking just one other language would dispel my sense of the isolated American; it would open my world. I could read more, listen more, talk more. You might think I'd have learned Greek after all this time with a Constantinou, but to me, Greek is just not practical outside of an occasional family dinner.

And Italian? I'd love to speak Italian. My father did. But teaching your kids your native language wasn't drawing many fans in the fifties.

Of course, there's Spanish, and a reason to learn it. Especially in the States. I think one day this country in this growing globality of ours will be full of people who speak at least two languages...by necessity.

I had four years of French in high school. Never used it, of course. But it sounded great when a real Frenchman spoke it. Wish I knew one.

Truth is, you only learn a language when there's a need or a want. Therefore, I will want it. I'll open my world and take a class this summer. My Greek and I will learn together.

So all Spanish aficionadoes beware. I just may be a foreigner one day.

Leave him alone

They plan to put you on display this week like some political maverick or religious pundit. Your loving family; your father's already talking about a record company he wants to start. They haven't put you in the ground yet, but they'll never let you rest.

Everyone else seems considerably more upset than some of those closest to you. There's a hint to where your famous idiosyncrasies took root....right there. Up close and way too personal. Who can be surprised at the way you were?

If there ever was a human dichotomy, you were it. The Sybil of the music world...the harrowing childhood that created two different people from shoe to soul. A dynamic, unparalleled personality on stage. An unhappy, lonely man-child off stage. How it must have hurt.

Did you have a friend? One? Maybe among the few who haven't turned this into a photo op yet...to get on air and tout their friendship with you, the man they 'knew so well.'

But they never knew you in life as they'll know you now. You'll be a major source of profit for years to come. You'll be exploited to the hilt and then some. Millions will be made on your death. Like Presley, you will be studied, examined, explained, vilified, made sport of, missed , remembered, loved. Your music will play forever like an old 45, as will your fame and your infamy, truth or not. You will be more spoken of now than ever.

They say you knew how you would die. What kind of life is that?

How can we not be moved, even though our materialistic society is filled with ego-centric , superficial people. Millions of them. They'll remember you, one way or another. Maybe for your quirks, your genius, your fashion, your money, your voice, your excesses, your musicality, your misfortune, your shyness, your empire, your moonwalks, your conflicts, your globality, your humanitarianism, your family, your talent, talent, talent.... They will remember you.

But right now, you're waiting for the peace you'll never get.

What you must think of us now.

MJ

The man who seemed bigger than life is dead.

Who didn't know his name? He wasn't a politician, a dictator, a murderer. He never hurt anyone. He made us feel good. Many of us take his death personally. I feel like part of my past has been torn away. He was someone I grew up with. We all grew up with. I remember singing his songs as a child. He was entertainment. I loved his music, his dancing, his creativity.

But I always felt sorry for him personally. I believe he was manipulated and taken advantage of at every turn throughout his entire life; he had no childhood and very, very few friends....real friends. I believe his private self was disturbed because of all this, and he suffered in more and greater ways as he aged; I can only feel for him. But his real self, his energy, his passion, his reason-to-be, his professionalism came out on stage, and for that I will always remember him. His genius, his extraordinary talents may never be seen again.

We have lost something rare and beautiful, and I will miss him.

checking in

Two interviews in the last two weeks. I guess I'm not done, after all. Another one with Widener, and a second in Radnor. Either would feel like going home again. Anything else? Oh yeah, a birthday, an anniversary, a nice PTO dinner, a mammogram, a new air condensor for the house, and we're redoing the attic, my folks fly in, we all see TJ in concert, Peggy moves to FL, my boy's out of school. A busy month and it's not half over.

I got a feeling I'm just going to be too tired for July.

Another month

It's gone! May. What happened? It's already my birth month...my anniversary month, TJ's birth month, the b-day for two close friends. Already. Time doesn't just fly by anymore; it evaporates.

I had an interview last week. I thought a good interview but I've been wrong so many times now, I'm just trying not to think. When the interviewer asks your salary requirement the first time you meet her and then says: "If we can't hire you, would you be able to work for us as a freelancer?" You sort of know it's over. So there's really nothing left to think about anyway.

That's OK. I don't really expect to work again at a full-time, benefit paying, pension-able writing job. That's a lost dream. But at least I have freelance. That's a good thing.

The termite man came this morning and sprayed us down...glad I kept that contract alive. Now we're working on getting our air conditioner replaced and fixing the roof where it leaks. We've forgotten about the deck...again. We've done that 15 years running now.

Anyway, on to the day. Weather's good. Flowers blooming. Anything could happen. Ciao.

A good week.

It's been a busy week, which means a good one. Lots of writing work from my client usually puts me in a great mood. But I also got a call from a potential employer this week. Haven't had one of them in some time. And this group works in the same building that houses TV Guide! I'd love to move back to that area. But even if it doesn't go anywhere, it's positive and possibly meaningful.

And then I applied for another job...another shot at Widener. I guess I'm getting back in the swing of things; it must be a result of spring fever that sneaks up on you after the chill in the air subsides. Maybe I should be cleaning something.

Anyway, now we're heading for another holiday. Memorial Day. Summer is official. We'll be picnicing Sunday and Monday like good Americans. And then Tuesday, we're holding fellowship at our place. Something to look forward to three days running! I'm excited.

But right now, I'm really tired. I think I'll go listen to Carlos for a few minutes. That, my friends, is always a good thing! Ciao!