Get the whole family involved

When I'm in the car, I sometimes break out in song, especially one that my son enjoys:



When I just sing it for him, I usually get to finish it.

Let the rollercoaster begin

The rough patches between Kelz and me started about three weeks after we had moved in together. While we were consistently affectionate toward each other, I kind of felt like Kelz wasn't putting in her all in our relationship.

From the beginning, I tried to instill a level of trust with her. I told her that if she had a problem, she just needed to tell me about it. I asked her to please not make me read her mind or try to guess what was bothering her. I wanted her to come straight out and tell me. I didn't want her to be like Chez, who would bottle up everything inside and then blab about everything she hated about me when she was talking to her friends and family. And after she was done blabbing, she'd yell and scream about all sorts of inconsequential stuff that had nothing to do with her issues concerning me the second I walked in the door from work.

Did Kelz let me know directly when she had problems with me? Of course, she didn't. But she would use other methods. Specifically, by talking to someone on the phone really loud when I was home and she knew I could hear her. I would always bring up what she said on the phone and re-iterate that she needed to tell me this stuff first. After she's told me so I can try to fix it, then she can blab it to everyone else. This still never happened.

One of the things she complained about was that I was too "lovey-dovey" by wanting to hold hands all the time when we went out. This hurt, because hand-holding is very important to me. I always knew when relationships were coming to a close when the girlfriend stopped wanting to hold hands. I thought we were still in the honeymoon phase. I was sad to see that part was coming to a close so soon.

Another thing that she passive-aggressively spoke about was the fact that we hadn't had sex yet. It was really difficult for her, a lot more than she had imagined. I guess she thought it was cool at first to be with a guy who didn't have just that one thing on his mind, but that intimacy was something that she missed. Up to this point, we had started engaging in activity of a sexual nature, but we weren't having actual sex. I still was not ready for that. I didn't think I would ever be ready for that, but because I felt so strongly about her, I knew that I wouldn't be able to hold out forever and keep her.

One night, we were walking around Ocean Beach. I told her I knew that the day would come soon that we would be physically intimate. I didn't know when it was going to happen, but we should start shopping for condoms. She was very much in agreement with this. We went to a drug store and looked at their selection. She said she preferred the Trojan lubricated ones, so that's what I bought. There were 12 in the package. I looked at the box and wondered if it was possible for them to all be used in one night.

In the meantime, some other strange stuff was happening. Kelz was still attending Narcotics Anonymous meetings. I once came home and found her dressed up in my suit. She said she had delivered a presentation at a meeting she attended and had to look nice for it. Then she was telling me that she was holding separate NA meetings in our apartment when I wasn't around. I never saw any sign that anybody was ever there.

Sometimes, she would go out at night and do stuff without me. She didn't always tell me where she was going or what she was going. That was fine. She didn't need to tell me everything. According to her, she was hanging out with guys from the NA meetings. She would tell me that when they were hanging out, there was always one person who managed to get his hands on some drugs and everyone would try to talk him out of using again. It didn't always succeed. And then another guy would go ahead and start using since there was apparently enough to go around.

She told me that Aard, the guy who pierced her tongue, called her up and wanted to hang out with her. I found this really odd. However I felt about his appearance, he did not seem like the type of person who would encroach on another guy's girlfriend. I did hear a message he had left on our answering machine asking Kelz to call him, but it really just sounded like he was checking to see how she was doing and not trying to set up a date.

When she was supposed going out with him, she shouted out the front door, "I'm almost ready!" But I'm pretty certain there was no one outside. She came back a few hours later, but said that nothing really happened.

And then she told me that an ex-boyfriend from the satanic cult had moved to San Diego. She was very scared that he was going to find her and get her involved in the cult and get her to start using drugs again. I told her that San Diego was a big city and she shouldn't really worry about it, unless someone she knows tells him where she's at.

One night, we went to the Wikiup Cafe see a CD release party by a male singer-songwriter I knew (whom I will refer to as "Soulster"). Everybody thought he was going to be the next big thing, so much so that when he arrived, several people who knew him crowded him, trying to get his attention. He freaked out, got into his car and drove off. Kelz and I were waiting for the performance to begin (if it was going to). I thought Kelz was next to me the whole time, but after I had introduced her to someone and had a brief conversation with him, I turned around and didn't know where she was at. I looked all over the Cafe, inside and out. The guy we were there to see actually came back and started the solo portion of his show. I had a hard time enjoying it. I stayed for a few songs and then I left.

A couple of hours later, Kelz came into the apartment and she was very upset. She told me that the ex-boyfriend she was hoping to avoid had also come to the show. I was really getting skeptical of stuff she was telling me at this point. I said, "Really? From what you've told me about him, he doesn't sound like the type of person who would enjoy this style of music." (I later found out that has Soulster has the same real name as a member of a famous heavy metal band. This happened all the time at his shows. Fans of the heavy metal band would arrive and get really mad that he was not the person they were expecting. So yes, it was entirely plausible that the ex-boyfriend might show up. But I'm pretty certain she didn't know about the name confusion at the time I questioned it.)

She said that he made her go out with him to talk at a taco shop around the corner. They just talked for a couple of hours. He wanted to see her from time to time and she agreed. "Why did you agree?" She said she couldn't tell him no because he would seriously hurt her and me. And he had the connections to have her child harmed in Iowa. I couldn't argue with that, regardless of whether I thought the threat was real or not.

So, I never knew if any of this was happening. I was trying hard not to be paranoid about the relationship, but I couldn't help but think that all of this was pointing toward a grand finale in which we would go our separate ways. But at this point, I didn't know how that would be possible because she literally had nowhere else to go. I couldn't just kick her out. I would need a lot more to happen.

Trust me, it did.

You want me to get WHAT?

I thought I had been through it all when I had lived with a member of the opposite sex before. I was wrong. SO VERY WRONG.

One night, Kelz announced to me, "You need to run to the store and buy me some tampons. RIGHT NOW!" This kind of freaked me out. I'd never bought tampons for anyone before. I mean, I'd purchased tampons once for someone and when we went grocery shopping, Chez was always certain to stock up, but I'd never had to buy them all by myself. (And there was that one time that Chez, Joad and I had driven up to Carlsbad, CA to buy a video game at a Sound Warehouse. We arrived and were about to get out of the car. Chez said, "We can't go in." "Why not?" Chez pointed at her pants. There was a blood stain on her jeans near her crotch. THIS freaked me out. But the way Chez acted the five months we were living together, I'm surprised that all her jeans didn't have blood stains on them.)

Even though we'd been grocery shopping before, and even though Kelz had requested to buy some make up, I guess it never occurred to her to buy tampons because she hadn't had a period since she gave birth just a couple of months prior. However, I don't know how you'd forget about that time of the month starting back up again.

Because Kelz could not leave the house in her condition, I had to venture into unexplored territory: The feminine hygiene section of Lucky. I walked around the store for awhile. I was not about to ask anyone where the tampons were. Seriously, this was embarrassing for me. I finally got to the section and found an ENTIRE WALL full of products. I was overwhelmed, much like Robin Williams was in "Moscow on the Hudson" when he goes to get coffee.

Kelz did not tell me what brand she used, and we didn't have cell phones or texting back then. The store was going to close in 15 minutes, so I had a limited amount of time to figure out what I needed to get and buy it. All of a sudden, I was trying to remember all the TV commercials regarding tampons I had seen over the last quarter century, but never paid attention to because they never applied to me. I was looking to see if any brand names stuck out in my head as being the most reliable, the most absorbent, the most cost-effective.

Time was slipping. I grabbed one box marked "tampons" and went to the register. (At least I knew not to get the pads.) I didn't know if the woman who was cashiering was going to say anything. But she acted like a professional, scanned the package and took my money.

Even though it took less than five minutes to drive back to the apartment, I dreaded what I might find when I arrived. I was afraid there would be blood stains on the carpet, on the bedsheets, and the toilet. Fortunately, it was none of that. I gave the box to Kelz and she said, "Good choice." I breathed a sigh of relief.

The near panic attack I experienced was the price I paid for not having had a lot of girlfriends. I've been fortunate that I've never had to do that again.

Put your money where your mouth is

One of the things that helped the relationship between me and Kelz prosper early on was the fact that I had money. The reason why I had money was because I didn't spend $500 trying to run for Mayor of San Diego. (When I was single, I thought that was a worthwhile use of my extra cash. I'm now glad I didn't go through with that.)

I didn't exactly make it known to Kelz that I had cash on hand. However, she told me one day that she wanted to get her tongue pierced and had made an appointment with someone to get it done. There was no prior discussion of this beforehand. I was a little put off that she didn't ask me first. But up to this point, she hadn't really asked for a lot that required money, so I went along with it.

We had to go to a tattoo parlor in a shopping center and wait for the appointment. The person who did the body piercing came out and got us. His name was Aard. He was rather good-looking. He had a muscular build and was bald, had a goatee and a piercing below his lower lip. And this was the first time I'd ever seen someone with this, but he also had his earlobes extended. It made me wonder why someone would want to do that. I couldn't imagine that it would make someone more attractive. But this guy was good-looking enough that he could have done anything to his face and women would still want to have sex with him.

He took us to a studio that was elsewhere in the shopping center. It looked like a doctor's office and was very anti-septic. In the studio, there was a headshot of Aard. The earlobe extensions must have been recent because he didn't have those in the photo.

Aard was very thorough about what was going to happen during the piercing. He told Kelz exactly what to expect and how to care for the piercing so that there wouldn't be an infection. He also gave her written instructions. She would have to come back for a follow up so he could check the progress.

One of the things he told her to avoid was deep kissing for a couple of weeks. I didn't like this aspect of it. I enjoyed kissing Kelz and it was going to be very hard for me to avoid putting my tongue against hers during our frequent periods of affection. But it was something we needed to sacrifice so she wouldn't die from having a hole in her tongue.

After we left Aard's studio, I told Kelz that since I paid for the piercing, that meant I owned her tongue. She laughed about that.

Kelz did follow Aard's instructions to the letter. She didn't have any complications as her tongue healed. I was relieved about that. The two weeks finally passed by and Kelz had her follow up. Everything was fine, so we were able to start kissing again. I never told her this, but I honestly did not like the feel of the jewelry on her tongue when we kissed. I was always afraid I was going to accidentally bite down on it and rip it out of her mouth.

Another of Aard's instructions was that she shouldn't remove the jewelry from her tongue for more than two days straight. Otherwise, the hole would close up and she'd have to get it re-pierced. As it turns out, about four months later, something happened that forced her to remove the jewelry.

That will be a story for another day.

The Not-Married Honeymoon Period

Despite the rough start, Kelz and I enjoyed being together the first few weeks after she had moved from Iowa. We went all over San Diego County to experience everything the area had to offer, most of which we didn't have to pay money for. We would frequently go out to live music performances and walk on the beaches at dusk. We did a lot of talking and I could feel our connection growing stronger each day.

Very soon after she moved in, I called my parents to let them know what was going on. They both seemed to enjoy talking to her. Neither one mentioned any objection, but I'm pretty certain they were both concerned after my previous disaster with Chez. They probably just figured I was going to do what I wanted and it didn't really matter to me what they thought.

I also took Kelz to meet Thoz. We hung out at her house a little the first time and took a walk around the neighborhood. I thought maybe we'd try to walk to the beach from there, but apparently, that wasn't possible. Even though Thoz tried to be as friendly as possible to Kelz, Kelz didn't seem to enjoy trying to get to know her.

We also hung out with Abed frequently. We went to this one event where everyone was invited to create art on clay pots. Abed and I immediately took to this and made these abstract designs. Kelz just watched us with fascination. She acted like she wanted to do it, too. However, every time I asked her if she wanted to, she just shook her head and continued watching us.

Kelz was the first girlfriend I'd ever had who started wearing my T-shirts. I thought this was rather cool that she was comfortable enough with me that she wanted to wear my clothes. However, I should add that I did not reciprocate. One of my T-shirts promoted a local singer-songwriter. She wore the shirt when we went to see her perform at the Wikiup Cafe. Kelz also wore a cross on a chain around her neck. The singer-songwriter told her she liked how the cross looked on the shirt.

One of the things I tried to do was make this a very adult relationship. I wanted us to completely trust each other and not feel like we had to hide anything. We would have several discussions about our life experiences in the past. I told her about my ex-girlfriends and she shared some details about her exes. I did not ask her to go into a lot of detail about her addiction. But she did tell me about the rehab process. She told me about how her counselor told her that she had to answer to a "higher power." This caused her to really freak out at first because she was not very comfortable with the concept of God watching over her after having been in a satanic cult. The counselor told her that the higher power did not need to be God. It could be something like a can of Coke. She would have to answer to a can of Coke.

(I've never been through professional rehabilitation for any addiction, including gambling, so I don't know whether this was really a good idea on how to put "higher power" into perspective. However, Kelz said this method did help because she worried less about incurring the wrath of an all-powerful God.)

From what I had gone through in the past with previous girlfriends, we appeared to be on a proper path for a successful relationship. I felt like we were doing the right things. And we continued to do more things together that enhanced what we had.

I hoped that wouldn't end anytime soon.

Yet another one of life's quiet moments

You never know what you're going to come across when you're about to leave for work.



There are just too many jokes that have been written before, so there's no need to add to them.

The first day of a new life

The day I had been anxiously awaiting had arrived. I got a phone call from Kelz telling me that she had arrived at the Greyhound Bus Depot in Downtown San Diego. I immediately ran out to my car and started driving. I couldn't wait to see her again and had a hard time keeping my car under the speed limit.

I was able to get Downtown and find a parking space. I ran into the depot, but I couldn't find her anywhere. She wasn't in the waiting area where I was expecting her to be. I looked all over. Finally, I saw someone at a payphone outside. I ran out and she was there, talking to someone on the phone. I don't know who it was on the other end, but I didn't ask. She quickly wrapped up her conversation. We hugged and kissed briefly. We had to go back inside and get her luggage. She just had a few bags, but she claimed that one of them was missing. Despite filling out a claims form and making numerous calls to the depot, that missing luggage never reappeared.

We drove back to the apartment. (And I just realized this: She had to accept that this would be her new residence, sight unseen. Nowadays, I'd be able to text photos show she would know what to expect. But she had to hope that I had good taste and wasn't going to try to live in a ghetto area.) I asked her what she thought and she described it as "homey."

After we brought all her stuff from the car, she wanted to lay down and sleep. I laid down with her on the bed. It was hard for me to fall asleep at first because I was so unsure of what was going to happen. I was happy to finally have her there, but still feared that something was going to go wrong.

After a while, I got up and decided to get something for us to eat. While I was putting on my shoes, Kelz came out of the bedroom. I asked her what she wanted from Wendy's. She just asked for a cheeseburger. I was probably gone about 30 minutes. When I returned, she had the TV BLASTING! I'd never had the volume up that high! She was also talking on the phone. I had no idea how she was able to keep up a conversation with the TV that loud, but she seemed to manage. I started feeling the same way I did when Chez didn't run up and hug me after I had come to get her. I was already feeling like this was another thing that was not going to work out the way I intended.

She eventually got off the phone and we ate. I knew I shouldn't try to start out the relationship by being the jealous boyfriend, so I didn't bother to ask her who she was talking to. And she didn't offer to tell me who it was.

We watched TV for a little bit and then went to bed. We made out for awhile before falling asleep. She said, "This is going to take some getting used to," referring to the fact that we weren't going to start removing articles of clothing and start engaging in sexual relations.

I guess we both had bad feelings about this, but they didn't get in the way of us having fun for the next month.

Apartment #9: 4387 Illinois St. #3, San Diego, CA (1996 - 1997)

About a week into December, I went out to put in my one-month notice on my studio apartment. I checked to see if the apartment management company had any one-bedroom rentals available. They did have one place that was just a few blocks away that was only $50 more a month ($435). It would be available January 1st. When I was filling out the application for the new apartment, two people came in. As I mentioned before, one of them was a teenager who was about to move out of St. Vincent de Paul because he was turning 18 and needed a place in January. The property manager told them that my place would be available soon. This meant I didn't need to pay a week's rent on my current apartment because someone would be moving in. We would all benefit from this. I took it as a good sign.
So, this was going to be the humble abode that Kelz and I would start our lives in. It was a one-bedroom/one-bathroom apartment. It had a living room that was larger than my entire apartment. And the bedroom was also rather large. I felt like I was moving up.

It had what I call a "smart" bathroom. You had the bathtub and toilet in one room and the sink and mirror in a separate room immediately outside. I've always liked motels that have that layout because you can have one person doing their business in one room while everyone else can brush their teeth and fix their hair in the other. It's very efficient when everyone needs to be on their way. If you have one person hogging up all the amenities, everyone has to sit and wait outside before they can finish up. This was going to be great for a co-ed couple living together.

In addition, there was a sliding door that could separate the sink and mirror area from the living room, so you could have privacy in there. I've only ever come across this set up in one other apartment, and it wasn't one I lived in.

There were ten units in the building. A few were two-bedroom apartments. Until it got close to the time I had to leave, I really didn't get to know the neighbors very much. Everyone kind of kept to themselves. It was a relatively quiet place.

It was almost a full block away from El Cajon Blvd. There were several fast-food places and other restaurants within walking distance.

The stupid thing is that I don't remember how I moved from my old apartment to this one. I don't think I rented a U-Haul and I'm pretty certain it was possible to put various pieces of furniture into the Toyota Celica hatchback and transport them one at a time. I don't recall if anyone helped me, but I know I would have needed help moving my dresser. At any rate, I do recall moving stuff out of this apartment. (That is a story for another time.)

I wound up living at this apartment for about a year and a half. It was likely the longest I'd ever spent in one apartment in San Diego the 11 years I was there. It was a tough apartment to give up, but things happen and you have to move on. But this apartment probably had the most interesting things happen inside. Some good and some bad.

Those will be the topics of later posts.

Getting ready for somebody else's big move

After finding an apartment for me and Kelz to move into, I had to figure out how to get her from Iowa to San Diego. I did not have enough money for a plane ticket and I couldn't take time off of work to drive up to get her. Greyhound was the only option.

The nice thing about Greyhound is that you can buy a ticket and it's good for anytime you're able to get on the bus. I went to the station and bought one to get her from Iowa to San Diego. I sent it out Priority Mail. A few days later, she said she didn't get it. I told her not to worry. I would just send her another one and would try to get a refund later. A few days later, and she hadn't gotten the new ticket, either.

I was starting to freak out. I didn't know if us getting together was really happening or if she was just scamming me and refunding the tickets for cash. It turned out that she had me send them to the wrong address. They went across the street and the neighbors had been away on vacation. She got both tickets. I would be able to get a refund on one of them after she got here. WHEW!

And then some stranger things happened. I called her and I thought she had answered the phone. (She has a very distinct voice.) I was asking her how she was doing and stuff, but she didn't sound too excited to be talking to me. Then she asked, "Who are you trying to call?" I replied, "You, Kelz." "I'm not Kelz. I'm her friend. She's not here right now." I asked this person to take a message, but I was very certain that I was talking to Kelz. (And she never mentioned having a friend hanging out with her, especially one who sounded just like her.)

And then I called up and her grandmother answered the phone. She asked me several questions, like why I was doing this. I told her that Kelz wanted to come be with me so she could get away from getting sucked back into her old habits. And then, she told me that Kelz never mentioned me before she brought her back from California. None of this really made sense. But even if I realized I was making a big mistake, it was kind of too late to turn back because I'd already signed a lease for a new apartment and I absolutely had to be out of my studio apartment because the property management company already had someone ready to move in. I had also sent her the bus tickets. This was going to happen unless Kelz did something to get thrown in jail.

If I had gotten this warning from her grandmother a few weeks earlier, I probably wouldn't have been so intent on getting her out of Iowa. I could have just let go and kept on living my lonely life, wondering where my next girlfriend was going to come from (after my Mayoral run and CD release). I still would have worried about her, but knew I couldn't do anything to fix all the problems she was supposedly experiencing.

And then some really weird stuff started happening. She told me that a friend of hers had died of a heroin overdose. Fairly soon after that, another friend died. And to top it off, the drug dealing father of her child died. I asked her if she needed to stay there and take care of the child. She said no, the satanic cult (of which he was a member) had the child. She wasn't even going to try. She was just going to come out to San Diego and get away from all that. I really didn't feel comfortable with that, but I could see her point.

I was wondering how much she was telling me was true. When I was talking with Knod about all this, she seemed concerned because when she was in a support group, there was this one person who kept talking about how a friend had just died, and it seemed like at every meeting, she had a different friend who just died. The other members eventually determined that she was making all this up to get sympathy and attention. When they stopped giving that to her, her friends stopped dying.

I was really starting to become skeptical of Kelz. A couple of times, she would tell me she was about to go get on the bus, but would call me back hours later to tell me that her that her grandmother wouldn't let her leave the house. I was starting to give up on ever seeing her again. However, she did call and say she was at the bus station and on the way out. At one point, she was in Denver. She called me from a payphone and I could tell from the background noise that she was indeed at a bus station.

And she finally did arrive. I'll go into details about our first day living together on Thursday. But tomorrow, I have a separate article focusing on the apartment we moved into.

Adjusting to being single again

After Kelz had gone back home to Iowa, I decided I wasn't going to try to pursue another relationship for awhile. I was still trying to prepare the material for my CD release and wanted to get that completed without any further interruptions. And I also continued my campaign to get enough signatures to run for Mayor, but I was having so much trouble with that.

I was working to get over Kelz, but something happened that I hadn't expected. I had told her she could call me from time to time. However, she called me EVERY DAY! Sometimes, it was collect. Sometimes, it wasn't. She told me that bad things were going on at her grandmother's.

For starters, the drug-dealing father of her oldest child had come back into her life. In addition, the father of her most recent child had come over there from the Chicago area and was hanging out. Apparently, they were both causing problems for her.

She was also so worried that she would get sucked back into the Satanic cult. She called me all the time with all this bad stuff that was going on. This wasn't how I envisioned a short-term relationship to turn out. Every time I talked to her, I felt like I needed to do something.

Finally, it got to be too much for me. I asked her if she wanted to move out to San Diego to be with me. Without hesitation, she said, "Yes." After a little discussion about trying to make this happen, I told her I loved her. She told me she loved me, too.

So I had to scramble to find a new apartment. The good thing was that I wasn't going to need to purchase any new furniture and move it in. All the stuff in my studio was going to be spread out through a one-bedroom apartment. (I'll get to the details of my apartment in a future post.)

One bad thing about this is that I had already told my friends all the bad stuff about Kelz. This meant the heroin addiction, the prostitution, the children. At the time, I thought I was never going to see her again, so it really didn't matter what they thought of her. In fact, they even told me I'd dodged a bullet with her. But I guess that bullet ricocheted and came back to bite me in the butt.

And there were a lot of other things that had to take place before I got her out to San Diego. I'll go into that tomorrow.

"13 Reasons Why" - My Perspective

I recently watched the Netflix series "13 Reasons Why." I had read about the premise of the show and took great interest in it because of my own experience with being suicidal when I was a teenager.

So what follows is not a review of the aspects of the program, but how I could relate to Hannah Baker. (And trust me, there were a lot of story elements I was really nitpicky about, but I'm not going to delve into that.) Please note there are SPOILERS ahead, so if you had planned on watching, please spend the next 13 hours binging on it first.

One of the details that I left out of my original blog post on the matter was that I was going to leave a note. On this note was going to be a list of eight people whom I held responsible for me wanting to kill myself. But all I was going to write was their names. I wasn't going to go into detail about how they treated me. They would be aware of what they had done. I wanted them to carry this burden of guilt for the rest of their lives.

(In case you're wondering, I have written about some of these people on my blog. Others, I haven't deemed worthy of ever mentioning again. But that's really because their stories aren't very interesting. Do know that I had no family members or school personnel on the list. It was all classmates.)

So, I can completely understand Hannah wanting to make her suicide have as much emotional impact as possible. Delivering her message as a voice from the grave would make it very dramatic. Yes, she even wanted to scare these individuals into changing the course of their attitudes toward others. This was the optimistic aspect of suicide for me.

If you've watched the show, you probably felt numerous times like Hannah was expecting other people to read her mind, know exactly what she was considering and that they needed to do something to tear her from that path to self-destruction. I can totally identify with it. I know that I myself was sending out these obscure signals to everyone that I was going to embark on a journey from which I could never return and I simply needed SOMEONE to figure it out and say the right thing.

But I can't tell you what the "right thing" was. I didn't have that part planned out. I guess I just wanted some display of compassion to help me get through another week, another day, another hour. If I had done it, there would have been several classmates who would have recalled, "Oh, yeah! Fayd mentioned doing something drastic," or "Fayd asked me once if that beam would be strong enough to hold 150 pounds of dead weight." (Yes, I did ask someone on the list that very question.)

The series of events that nearly sent me over the edge really only had to do with varying degrees of bullying. They did not involve having embarrassing photos of me spread around the school or sexual assaults, so I'm not able to relate to Hannah on that level. My issues were relatively minor compared to hers. But if I had experienced any of that extra stuff, I wouldn't be around right now to write this blog. I can understand her wondering if things were going to get better or get worse. Since this was still early in her senior year of school, I can pretty much guarantee things were going to get much, much worse. In a manner of speaking, I did feel like things overall were worse during my senior year, but never so bad that I still considered suicide as the best way out.

For me, the most chilling scene in the series was one a lot of people probably haven't really noticed, and I don't know if it was in there on purpose or not. About midway through, you see several of the students from the tapes gathered in the hall. They're all being social and smiling. It's clear that at this moment, they have temporarily ceased thinking about Hannah and are subconsciously trying to allow their regular lives to carry on. Then they see Clay. They realize, "Oh, yeah. We're supposed to be sad because of Hannah" and stop the cheerful socialization.

This was one of the things that kept me from following through with my plans. I knew that slowly but surely, those on my list would stop being burdened with the weight of my blame. Their memories of me would pop up in their heads once in awhile, but they would just shake it off and continue with their lives. Pretty much, that was going to happen regardless of whether I committed suicide.

But for many people pondering taking the last exit, that's not going to be enough to stop them. And more often than not, the signs are not that obvious until it's too late.

I'm not able to propose any solutions here. All I know is what I went through and what I did to survive. Like Hannah, even my parents didn't know about the torment I was enduring on a daily basis. That scares me as a parent, because I won't always know what's going on in my son's life and I know there's going to be a lot he's not going to tell me. But at least I know I can tell him about my own experience so he won't feel like he's the only one in the world who's ever felt like this.

Girlfriend #6: Kelz, Part 3

After finding out that Kelz was being forced against her will to go back to her grandmother's in Iowa, she and I decided to make the best of what was obviously going to be a short-term romance. I just wanted to spend as much time as possible with her before I would never get to do that again. Her flight was scheduled to take off on Thursday. This particular day was Tuesday.

This was the night I had scheduled to finalize all the lead vocal work for my CD release. Zid was going to come to the studio and record her vocal.

It was exciting having Kelz sitting in the control room. I felt like she was inspiring me while I was singing. Later, Zid showed up with her father. She was able to record her part in just a couple of takes. I was so pleased with the outcome. It was truly going to be the highlight of the album. Zid and Kelz seemed to get along okay.

After I was done recording, I asked Kelz if she was going to be able to spend the night. She said she couldn't and I needed to drive her back to her uncle's house. We made plans to get together the next night.

When I came over Wednesday night, we went into the room where she had been sleeping. With a dour expression, she said that she had a lot to tell me and I might not like it very much. I was not expecting what she was about to tell me or that it would be so much:

1. She was a heroin addict.

She said she had been recovering and was going to Narcotics Anonymous meetings. She had spent time in rehab and was trying so hard to stay clean. She worried about the strong possibility she could get hooked again and didn't want that to happen.

2. She had been a prostitute.

A big part of being a heroin addict is doing what you have to do to get your next fix. She didn't want to return to this lifestyle to support a habit that had done nothing but destroy her.

3. She had been involved in a Satanic cult.

This was the real reason she left Iowa and moved to the Chicago area. She really didn't want to go back to Iowa because she was afraid of getting caught up in that again, which would also lead to more heroin and more prostitution.

4. She had been in trouble with the law on numerous occasions.

This is part of the territory when you're a heroin addict, a prostitute and a devil worshiper. This all led to her going into rehab.

5. She'd had another child a couple of years earlier.

She said this child was being raised by the father, who was a drug dealer in Iowa. She'd also left Iowa to get away from him.

Since this was only going to be a short-term romance, it didn't really matter to me at the time. She did not ask me to keep her from going back to Iowa, because she knew there was nothing I could do.

I told her there was something I needed to tell her about me. I revealed that I was still a virgin. She said she kind of got that vibe from me. When we hugged the first night before I left, she wondered if there was something wrong because I didn't try to make any moves on her. She thought maybe I didn't like her, even though we had arranged to get together the next night. She really thought that when I didn't try anything on the second date, either. But she figured it out when I went to change my clothes the night we spent together. That's why she didn't take off all her clothes.

She'd never met anyone like me, someone who wasn't just looking to get laid. She liked that I tried to get to know her. And if her grandmother wasn't making her go back to Iowa, she could see us being more permanent. All she could ask at this time was to be able to touch base with me from time to time to help keep her on track. I said I would do that for her.

We didn't go out and do anything that night, except make out a little in her room. She would be leaving the next night and asked me to come see her before she left for the airport. I came over Thursday and helped her pack. We held each other for awhile and then said our goodbyes.

After this, her uncle asked me if I wanted to go see her off at the airport. I said, no, I'd just said my goodbyes then and wanted to leave it at that. Kelz and I hugged and kissed one last time before I left to go home.

Later that night, I got a collect call. It was Kelz. She said she was in Ontario waiting for her connecting flight to Iowa. I was still trying to wake up. "Canada or California?" It was California. I guess she had a LONG layover.

Even though this is the last "part," this is not the end. Not by a long shot.

Girlfriend #6: Kelz, Part 2

I was going to utilize the three-day rule before I called Kelz again. I usually act all needy when it comes to women who like me and that sort of makes them stop. So I was surprised to come home from work Monday afternoon to find a message on my voice mail.

It was Kelz and she gave me a new phone number to call her at. I tried calling, but no one picked up and there was no answering machine. I didn't know what to think. A couple of hours later, my phone rang. It was Kelz. She said she was now staying with her uncle in San Diego and wanted to see me. She gave me the address and asked me to come over and pick her up.

I went over to her uncle's house. He was in his 70s. He didn't have much to say to me. Kelz and I went out and started driving. She told me that what happened was that her grandmother was making her move back to Iowa with her. (She grew up in Iowa before living in Chicago.) Her uncle was sent to get her out of Escondido so he could get her on a plane to fly back home later that week. "But I told her, 'I just met this awesome guy. I don't want to leave,' but she didn't want to listen, so I guess I'm heading back there." She just wanted to spend the next few days with me. I thought that would be cool.

We drove over to the Wikiup Cafe and got something to eat and drink. I asked her if she wanted to go see Balboa Park. I decided to show her the lobby of the Air & Space Museum. Along the way, I started holding her hand. After seeing what we could in the museum without paying, we walked over to the fountain and sat down on a bench. The sun had gone down and the lights in the water were on. There were a few other people hanging around the fountain. At one point, she was looking away from me. I got her attention. "Hey." When she turned her face my direction, I started kissing her. We held each other closely and she moved her legs over my lap. It was the most romantic first kiss I'd ever experienced.

After a few minutes, I asked her if she wanted to go meet my friend Abed. He had my copy of "The Simpsons" Halloween episode (the one with the 3D animated segment). She agreed and we went to his apartment to hang out a little. I had already told Abed about meeting Kelz, so he was pleased to get to meet her. We went back to my apartment to watch the tape. After it was over, we moved over to my bed and started kissing. I told her I needed to change into something more comfortable.

I went into the bathroom to change my pants. While I was doing that, I suddenly realized I had just given international code for "we're going to have sex." I was worried that when I emerged, she was going to be completely naked on my bed and I didn't know what I was going to tell her if she was, especially since I was going to come out still fully clothed.

I opened the door and was relieved to find that the only article of clothing she removed was her jacket. We both laid down on the bed and made out. At one point, she took off her glasses. This was the first time I'd seen her without those thick lenses. She was really very pretty and not just dorky-looking.

After about a half hour, I asked her if anyone would mind if she spent the night. She said no. I asked her if she needed to let her uncle know where she was at. She said no. We spent the rest of the night kissing and holding each other until we fell asleep.

I had to get up earlier than normal the next day so I could get her back to her uncle's house before I went to work. On the way there, I decided to come clean. I told her, "I have something to tell you and if you decide you don't want to have anything to do with me after that, then that's fine." "Okay, what is it?" "I'm not 23. I'm actually 31." "That doesn't bother me." "I'm very glad to hear that." I said that it was too bad that she was leaving, but we would make the most of what little time we would have together.

I told her I was scheduled to do a recording session for my CD release that night and asked her if she wanted to come watch. She was very much interested in do that. I told her I would be by the house around 6pm to pick her up.

When we got to her uncle's, she couldn't get anyone to come to the door. I asked her if she wanted to come to work with me until her uncle woke up and I could drive her back. She said no, she'd wait there for him. I had another jacket in my car, so I loaned that to her so she could keep warm. It was really hard for me to leave her there, but she told me she would be fine. We kissed and I went to work.

On the way, I realized that for the last 12 hours, she hadn't gone to the bathroom the whole time we were together. I was afraid she was going to explode!

I don't think that happened. More tomorrow.

Girlfriend #6: Kelz, Part 1

I responded to Kelz' ad in the Penny Saver in November of 1995. She was 19, but didn't specify an age range she was seeking. When I called the voice mail, I lied about my age and said I was 23. As far as I was concerned, it kind of didn't matter if I lied as I wasn't doing it to trick someone into having sex with me. But looking back, it really wasn't the best way to start something new.

I was expecting the usual routine of phone call, meeting and then never hearing from her again. It did start with her calling me. She was living in Escondido at the time. She had moved from the Chicago area and was staying with a friend and his family. After we talked for awhile, we decided to meet the next day. She gave me the address where she lived and the apartment number.

It was a Friday afternoon. I drove up around 3pm. I found the apartment complex and went to the apartment number she gave me. I knocked on the door. Some woman nervously peered through the front window. I asked if Kelz was there. She acted like she didn't know who I was talking about and was basically trying to shoo me away. I shrugged my shoulders and started walking back to my car. I was upset because this was the first time a personal ad date wasn't going to happen and I had to drive about half an hour to get there.

I was about to cross the street to get to my car when I heard someone yell, "Hey!" I turned around. I saw a woman wearing a baggy shirt and a baseball cap. She had long red hair and these glasses with really thick lenses. She looked like a bit of a dork. Just my type.

"Are you Fayd?" "Yeah." "Hi, I'm Kelz. I'm sorry about that. The people I was staying with kicked me out and I was able to stay with someone else. I need to go back and let them know that I'm going."

As we walked back, I mentioned that the woman in the apartment I went to didn't seem to know who she was. "Yeah, she's kind of like that." Kelz was now staying with a couple who had children. The man and woman appeared to be in their late 20s. She told the woman she would be going out with me and didn't know when she'd be back. The woman requested that she call if she was coming back after 9pm. I didn't think we were going to be out that long.

As we walked back to the car, we passed by some children playing. She made some comment, like she enjoyed seeing children like that. I don't why, but I asked this question: "Are you looking to have one of those?" Her response was, "I just had one." WHAT? She had recently given birth to a baby boy in a hospital in the Chicago area and had given it up for adoption. I had a lot to process about this.

I decided to take her for a little sightseeing. That was the nice thing about San Diego. There were plenty of places to go where I didn't really have to spend any money. I know we went to the Hotel del Coronado and walked around. We went out on the beach and watched the waves for awhile. We went to a couple of other places and got to know each other pretty well. We appeared to have the same interests in music.

I told her that I was an aspiring musician, had a cassette release and was working on a CD. I was also running for Mayor of San Diego. She genuinely seemed impressed by all this. I told her I was going to see someone I knew play live the next night in Downtown San Diego and invited her to go along. She agreed to a second date. This was going VERY well!

I took her back to Escondido. We went into the apartment. The woman told Kelz I couldn't stay. (Well, I wasn't planning to.) Kelz had kept her baseball cap on all night long. I could tell that she didn't have hair on the front part of her scalp. I wondered if she had alopecia and was trying to cover it up. Before I left, I told her I wanted to see her without the cap. She took it off. She didn't have alopecia. She just had that part of her head shaved. I told her it looked good. I asked her if I could have a hug before I left. She agreed. I told her I would see her the next night.

One odd thing I noticed about the date was that the whole time, she didn't go to the bathroom. Even when we had an opportunity at the Hotel, she didn't go (even though I had to).

One of the places we didn't go to was my apartment. It was a mess. I spent most of the next day cleaning it up in case she decided she wanted to see where I lived.

I drove back up to Escondido. I didn't have any hassle this time. We drove to San Diego and enjoyed the performance. We did go to my apartment, but we weren't there for very long. I just showed her my keyboard. I drove her back to Escondido. We didn't make any plans for the next date. I didn't want to push my luck. Again, she did not go to the bathroom the entire evening.

I decided to play this one cool and wait a few days before calling her again. But as things turned out, I didn't have to wait that long.

More on that tomorrow.

Girlfriend #6: Kelz (A prelude)

I am about to embark on the story of the most complicated relationship I have ever been involved with. It's so complicated, I have to properly prepare you for what is about to transpire in this blog.

The story of Kelz is not as epic as Chez. That spanned over a period of more than nine years. My on-again, off-again romance with Kelz lasted less than two, but it had a greater impact on my life.

What happened with Kelz is not all bad, but it was very much like a rollercoaster. There were peaks and valleys in terms of emotions the whole way through. There were times that things were so good that I would forget about the low I just crawled up from and could not see another drop quickly arriving. And the pitfalls were so full of despair I felt trapped with no control on how to work my way out of them.

As of the publication of this post, I estimate there will be more than 20 articles about Kelz. They will not follow the usual "Part 1, Part 2, etc." format after the first few articles. They'll all get their own titles, so don't be fooled. With the exception of my postings on Fridays, they will almost ALL be about Kelz, or at least, involve her.

There will be times you will probably slap your head at the sheer stupidity of my naivete. (My head still suffers from self-inflicted injuries.) But also know that after everything finally came to an end, I was able to walk away pretty much unscathed, unlike what happened after Chez and Joad left.

So, get ready for at least two months of thrills beginning tomorrow. Know that I'm probably doing a lot of screaming as I write these.

Noise at an inappropriate time

I normally don't have a problem with the sounds of construction equipment. However...



How many people bring noise -month headphones with them to appointments?

The Daily Routine

Everyone gets into those ruts in which it appears like the same thing happens every single day when you're working. I was no different. During most of 1995, I had a pretty stringent daily routine that made it seem like I was living "Groundhog Day" over and over. You'd think that the nature of monitoring news would indicate that wasn't the case, but it almost wasn't.

I would get up at 4am. The first thing I would do was grab a couple of raw eggs out of the refrigerator, put them in a pot, run water over them and then start boiling them. I would set a timer for 21 minutes. I found this was the perfect amount of time for eggs to completely boil.

I would take a shower while they were boiling. This typically took about 10 minutes, giving me plenty of time to get dressed before I needed to take the eggs off the stove. I would take the pot over to the sink and run cold water over them until the water stopped feeling hot. Then I put two pieces of bread in the toaster. While the bread was toasting, I would unpeel one of the eggs. By the time I was finished, so was the toast. I squashed the egg between the two pieces of toast. I removed a piece of toast, put some salt and pepper on the egg and a slice of cheese and put it in aluminum foil. I then repeated this process with the other egg and another two pieces of bread.

I left the apartment, brought the food with me and drove to work. It took about 20 minutes to drive there. I drove West on El Cajon Blvd., which eventually turned into Normal St., which then quickly turned into Washington St. I would come to the intersection at 4th Ave., where there was a stop light. Most of the time, I had to stop.

Everyday on the southwest corner of the intersection, I would see a man on a bicycle. In my head, I called him "Bike Boy." (I found out later Bike Boy was waiting for a cycling partner to arrive.) This was usually around 4:40am. While I always came to a full stop at the light, I didn't like having to wait for the light to turn green, so I would slowly proceed through the intersection. But I swear, Bike Boy would leer at me when I did that. I don't know that he did, but it always seemed like he was turning his head in my direction every time I illegally drove through the light. However, he never shouted anything at me, so he may not have cared what I was doing.

A little further down 4th Ave., I would see a discolored Mazda make a turn from one of the side streets. This Mazda had a broken tail light. I saw this Mazda almost every single day and most of the time, I would see him turn in front of me.

Soon after that, I would arrive at the address for News Monitoring Services around 4:50am. I usually had to park on the side streets because it was almost all metered parking out in front. Sometimes, when I came to the front door, Bike Boy and his partner would come whizzing by on the street.

The first thing I had to do was rewind all the videotapes that had been recording the night before. After this was done, I had to load the tapes for the day so that they would begin recording at 5am for the local newscasts. Then, I would start monitoring the news from the night before. Almost every day for the first nine months of the year, the lead story was typically what happened in the OJ Simpson trial. Yes, it was like watching Punxsutawney Phil being removed from his cage every day.

But every day, there was something different in the news that kept me from going insane. And my nights were always different because I found I could go out and experience free music performances by local artists, many of whom I became friendly with. I felt like I was making up for a lot of wasted time watching TV in my teens and 20s.

Looking back, I wonder if Bike Boy or the Mazda driver felt like they were stuck in a daily routine like I was. Or maybe they didn't even consider it because they were busy with their own issues. I just know that I noticed.

But something did come along to smash that routine to pieces. I'll start on that Monday.

Enemy: Hird

If you've ever heard of the "Yoko Effect," this is one case in which I came across it in real life. It applies to a person whose presence can be very polarizing, to the point that it can have a tremendous impact on long term bonds.

I first became aware of Hird when Abed told me about meeting this musician. He was in his 50s. Abed said that his brain was so messed up from doing drugs his entire life that he couldn't listen to regular structured music. He could only listen to music if it was completely improvised. He could play guitar, but had more of a penchant for creating experimental music with noise. At first, Abed was rather dismissive about him, but started spending more time with him.

Abed invited me to see Hird's group perform at the Wikiup Cafe. They were opening for a well-known local musician. The performance mostly consisted of random sounds and feedback. I wasn't too impressed, but Abed really seemed to be into it. After they played for about 45 minutes. Hird announced, "We're going to take a little break and be right back!" I thought, "Wait, you're the opening act. You don't get an intermission! When you stop playing, that's when the headliner is supposed to go on! Get out of the way and let's hear some real music!"

After the break, they played for 30 more minutes. For the last piece, they had some more musicians come on stage. They mostly added rhythm to the noise. This was actually pretty good and if most of the show had been like this, I would have enjoyed it more.

Abed started spending a lot more time with Hird. From what Abed told me, Hird was one of these guys who decided it was funny to just go around and piss people off all the time. He would just say stuff to get some kind of reaction out of someone, anyone. This included me. I can't specifically recall exactly what he said, but it was clear he questioned my intelligence, especially when it came to music. I would ignore these comments, but I always felt angry about them and I was even more angry that he knew how to push my buttons to make me feel that way.

Once I was in his van with Abed and we saw a couple of men fighting on the street. He drove up to them and asked, "Would you like some help?" I'm surprised they didn't come after us.

Then Hird started giving Abed artistic advice. He basically told him he shouldn't be messing with writing all those songs and that improvised noise was really what he should be doing. Abed started taking this seriously and began incorporating improvised noise elements into his material. Abed told me he was going to stop writing songs altogether and start concentrating on making noise. I wondered how Hird was able to attain this level of influence over Abed. Abed didn't think much of people who smoke pot, so it was a mystery. I felt like Hird had torn Abed from his musical path and I was powerless to get him to stop driving on the corrugated shoulder.

For a brief period of time, Abed and Hird were roommates. Then one day, they got in a fight and Hird pulled a knife on Abed. Abed left the apartment immediately. I was unaware of the threat of violence, but Abed came to me one day and said, "You know what? Hird's full of s***!" I thought things were going to go back to normal. However, while Abed went back to writing actual songs, he still did a lot of experimental music with noise.

About a year later, Abed and Hird were friends again and collaborated from time to time. There was a compilation CD that Abed and Hird were invited to be a part of. I got to play on Abed's contribution and Hird put together a noise piece that involved Abed. I was in the control room when they were recording together. Toward the end of the track, Abed was pounding nails into a piece of wood and Hird was shaking some chains. Abed would pound the hammer and then Hird would shake the chains. This continued back and forth for about five minutes. Then Abed would pound three times, followed by Hird shaking three times. Pound pound pound. Shake shake shake. Pound pound pound. Shake shake shake. This thought had entered my mind, but the studio engineer articulated it: "Oh, Jesus! They're both trying to be the last sound on the track! This is never going to end!" He pushed the stop button on the recorder and made them come inside. Abed insisted that they were maintaining a conversation through noise, but to me, it appeared they were just saying the same thing over and over because neither one wanted to get off the phone.

But Hird still liked to piss people off, including me. When Abed and I were roommates, Hird had come over a couple of times and was told that he needed to park on the street. One day, I left the apartment to run an errand in my car for five minutes and returned to find Hird's van parked in my space. And there was plenty of spots on the street! GRRRR! He was pushing my buttons again! Before I even got into the apartment, I started yelling at him for parking in my space. He said, "Calm down. Calm down. I'm only here for a few minutes." I just didn't like that I was going to have to repark my car after he left.

So, during the time that we knew each other in San Diego, I considered Hird an enemy. Now, he's one of my Facebook friends. That happened because after I became friends with Abed on Facebook, he sent invitations to several of his friends to connect with me. And in 2010, Facebook was all about building up your friend network, regardless of whether you liked them or not. Oddly enough, I was even friends with Hird's son, whom I had only met once in my life, but his son brought that to a close recently.

Hird is still involved with the local experimental/noise scene in San Diego. I don't know if he gets to perform much, but his Facebook posts mostly consist of local happenings. And surprisingly, he doesn't post anything to piss people off.

Has he changed? I don't know. I haven't seen him in person in 15 years. And I don't know if I'll ever see him again.

A political run

In 1994, my Dad told me that he had run for a seat on the Artesia City Council and won. I didn't know about it ahead of time, but I was excited for him. He also told me that the man who had been Artesia's Mayor since I was in second grade was planning to not run for office again in 1998. He was 82 years old at the time. I asked Dad if he was considering running for Mayor. He said he might just do it.

This actually concerned me at first. It would change everything about my trips to Artesia. I would no longer be coming back to town as Fayd, the son of a former teacher at Hermosa Elementary. I would be known as Fayd, the Mayor's son. People would be keeping their eye out me, waiting for me to goof up.

But I asked myself, why should Dad get to be the first person from our family to run for Mayor? I wanted to beat Dad at something. I decided I would be a candidate for Mayor of San Diego, even though I knew full well I didn't stand a chance of winning (because the incumbent Mayor was just too popular). I just wanted to get my name on the ballot.

In 1995, I contacted the City Clerk's office to see when I would be able to file. At the time, it was November for a primary scheduled for March 1996. (It was a Presidential primary that year and California bumped itself up to play a larger part in the nominating process.)

I showed up at the City Clerk's office on the first day to take out papers. While I was there, another potential candidate showed up. He appeared to be in his 70s and was a veteran. He talked about how he had been interviewed in the City Hall lobby by a local TV news reporter. With my long hair, he must have thought I looked kind of odd to be running for public office, but didn't say anything about my appearance. He shook my hand.

While I was waiting, the woman who was waiting on me told me I didn't qualify to run because I was not a registered voter. (One of the requirements of candidacy is that you have to have been a registered voter in the city for the previous 30 days.) I was shocked. Even though I had moved several times without leaving a forwarding address in the past couple of years, I always kept my voter registration current and voted at every election. She said the Registrar of Voters had mailed something out and I didn't respond. I asked her what they would have mailed out because we didn't have any elections in 1995. She didn't have any answers. I asked her if there was something I could do and she said no. I couldn't even register because by the time the filing deadline arrived, I would not have been registered to vote for a full 30 days. I wasn't going to be able to run.

I went home and tried to figure out what I could do. I decided to call up the Registrar of Voters to find out about my registration. The person I talked to verified they had my current address on file and there wasn't any reason for me to not have a current registration. She said they would show my status as current with no lapse. I called the City Clerk's office and spoke to the woman I saw there. She said she had just received a call from the Registrar and that I could come in the next day and pick up the papers. She did not apologize for what happened or for not telling me I could just call the Registrar myself to re-establish my registration so I could run.

Later, I figured that the woman in the office probably saw me as some sort of loose cannon fringe candidate who was going to make a mockery of the election and that I was going to advocate for the legalization of marijuana and other recreational drugs, and that I might actually get elected because of it. So, they had a contingency plan to inform candidates like me that we were not qualified to run because of a lapse in registration. Then, they don't tell us we can straighten it out by calling the Registrar of Voters and we will hopefully slink off without getting involved in debates and other opportunities to question the authority of the current office holders. I was smart enough not to fall for those tactics, much to their dismay.

I watched the news from that day. They showed a brief clip of the man I met in the office with him announcing his candidacy for Mayor. I guess the TV crew arrived after I had gone up to the office. I would have been more than happy to talk to them (but I probably would have come off like a big moron).

I went to the City Clerk's office the next day. I was waited on by the same woman. I filled out a lot of forms. She told me I needed to get the signatures of 200 registered voters in the City of San Diego and they had to have current registration effective for the last 30 days. I also needed to pay a filing fee of $500. (I did not flinch when she told me this. I had the money.) However, if I got more signatures than the required 200, I could offset the cost of the filing fee by 25 cents an extra signature up to 2,000.

I didn't think it was going to be a big deal to get 200 signatures (but I knew I couldn't get 2,000). I also thought I could recruit the services of an activist friend of mine to help out in this effort. However, she had been approached by the Peace and Freedom Party to run for US Representative in her Congressional District. This meant she wasn't going to have time to help me out. I did enlist the help of Abed and another friend to try to get the 200 signatures.

But despite all our efforts, we couldn't get more than 100 altogether. On top of that, I noticed that several of my friends who signed my petition didn't even live in San Diego! I had no choice but to give up. I wasn't going to beat my father this time. But on the bright side, I got to keep my $500.

When I received a form by the Democratic Party to fill out in order to get their endorsement (the incumbent Mayor was a Republican), I was astonished at how much I didn't know about local politics and issues. I would have looked like a complete fool if I were to participate in debates.

There was only one debate that the incumbent Mayor took part in and it was broadcast over KPBS-FM. At one point, the veteran started singing some song as a response. I really dodged a bullet.

As it turned out, the incumbent Mayor won more than 50% of the vote in the primary, so there wasn't a runoff in November. Things went crazy in 2000 in the Mayor's race. With no incumbent, 12 people ran, including my friend who had run for Congress four years earlier. At one of the televised debates, the TV station wouldn't let her or four other fringe candidates take part. They staged a protest outside the station and at least one of them got arrested.

Looking at the San Diego website, the requirements for running for Mayor are exactly the same. 200 signatures and a $500 filing fee. I am surprised that amount hasn't gone up over the last quarter century. I guess they're having too much trouble holding onto their Mayors and need as many people to run as possible.

As for my Dad, he didn't run for Mayor of Artesia. He ran for another term on the City Council (because too many other people were running for Mayor), but was defeated. It was a big turnover in Artesia's city government in 1998 and there were a lot of major problems as a result. Dad was glad he didn't have to deal with it.

I guess I have the same attitude about public office. But I like griping about it.

Personal Ad Tease #9: Fyz

(What's a Personal Ad Tease? Click here!)

I took to the Penny Saver again to try to meet someone. I don't recall what the ad said, but it stated the age of the person was 21. A couple of days later, I received a phone call. Her name was Fyz. Her first question to me was, "What is your race?" I told her, "White." She said, "I'm black. Do you have any issues with that?" "I guess not." (But really, I did and I wouldn't have responded to her ad if I'd known her race. However, she called me back, so I just went with the flow. I should also point out that I told her I was 23. If I hadn't, she wouldn't have called me back.)

We continued talking. She said she worked as a technician at Sea World. She seemed to describe herself as some sort of genius who completed high school at an early age and got an advanced degree in engineering. She would get called to repair stuff at the park, like the rides and electronic presentations. And certainly, she was articulate enough to match that level of intelligence. I must have been flattered that she wanted to continue talking to me.

She called me a couple more times. Once was late at night. I had to get up early for work the next day and tried to stay awake while she was on the phone. I know at least one time, I fell asleep and she had to yell to get me to wake up. I really had to get off the phone then. Eventually, we arranged to meet. She was going to be at San Diego State University for some kind of conference and I'd be able to see her there.

She had described herself as having very light skin. "Some people think I'm white!" she said. I had given her a very detailed description of my hair and explained that I would be wearing a black shirt. She told me to meet her by the Open Air Theatre. I arrived. There was some sort of gathering of black people at the theatre. It sounded like protest speeches against being marginalized by white people. I saw several black people outside the entrance, but I didn't see anyone who matched her description.

I did see this one young woman who wore glasses and a white short-sleeved shirt, but her skin was rather dark, so I didn't think it was her. I went to a pay phone to see if she had left me a message on my answering machine. While I was on the phone, I could sense that the woman with the glasses was about ten feet from me and looking at me. I quickly looked in her direction, but when I did, she turned her eyes away. There were no new messages on my machine. That meant she didn't call to cancel on me.

I waited a few more minutes and then I decided to walk back to my car. All of a sudden, I heard someone shout, "Hey! Are you Fayd?" I turned around. It was the woman with the glasses. "I was wondering if that was you!" But I know I was very specific about what my hair looked like. So yes, this was Fyz. But there was no way ANYONE would ever think she was white.

I asked her if she wanted to go driving around. She agreed and we walked out to my car. Now, I have to borrow a euphemism from the Joss Whedon show "Dollhouse" here. After we got in the car, I was experiencing a "man reaction." This caught me by surprise, because I was NOT physically attracted to her. She wasn't ugly, but she wasn't what I would normally prefer in a woman. I can only assume that there was something chemical going on to make me react like that.

I decided to drive to Coronado. After crossing the bridge, we looked at the ducks in the pond at the Ameridian Hotel and then walked around the park nearby. During this time, I went into the public restroom. After I came back out, we walked back to the car and drove to the Hillcrest area. There, I stopped by the Guild Theatre. Baz was working in the box office. I introduced the two of them. We talked for a little bit.

I asked Fyz if she wanted to see my apartment. She said she was up for that. We went inside. I showed her my keyboard and that was about the extent of it. She said she needed to go back to SDSU so that she could meet back up with her friends. I dropped her off at the school.

The whole time we were together, I still had that male reaction going on. I was glad when the date ended. I came home later, sat down in the chair and started watching TV. After a few minutes, I HAD THE MOST INTENSE PAIN I'VE EVER FELT! I immediately realized I was suffering what is referred to as "blue balls." I grabbed whatever cold thing I could find in the refrigerator and put it against my crotch. I could feel the pain for the next hour. I was so thankful when it finally went away.

I didn't really know what I wanted to do. I didn't like that she had lied to me about her appearance (even though I liked about my age). Even though I didn't think I found her attractive, there appeared to be some part of me that did. A couple of days later I called her up. An older man answered the phone. I asked, "Is Fyz there?" "Who is this?" "This is Fayd." "This is her grandfather. How can I help you, Fayd?" "Can I speak to Fyz?" "Fayd, how old are you?" "I'm 23." "Well, Fyz is 17." "Okay, she told me she was 21." "Well, she's NOT!" "Okay, then." I hung up the phone.

A lot of questions entered my mind. Was everything she told me a lie? The genius label, the early diploma, the engineering degree, the job at Sea World? Probably. But what was the purpose of the lies? Was she trying to set up guys and blackmail them later? I made it quite clear I didn't have any money, so that didn't make sense. I had to come to the conclusion that this would be one of those times that I would never have all the answers.

But I am certainly glad that I wasn't sexually active at the time. I mean, if I was, I could have seen myself saying to her while in my apartment, "Hey, I don't ever just jump into the sack with someone right away, but if you're feeling what I'm feeling, I think we should just go for it!" And then I would be in big trouble. The blue balls were worth avoiding the legal mess I likely would have gotten into. (But if I'd known about the pain I would suffer later, I could have just taken care of business when I went into the bathroom in the park.)

At any rate, I was definitely better off not having sex in my life then. But that wouldn't last forever, and you'll find out soon enough why.

Education in toy form

You have to be careful when buying toys. You never know what they'll teach your kids.



This is something that can be self-taught.

Personal Ad Tease #8: Lawz

(What's a Personal Ad Tease? Click here!)

When you read this, you may think that Lawz should be categorized as a Friend Zone. However, I can't really say she was much of a friend and she was kind of responsible for messing some stuff up in my life and I'm certain she knew she was messing stuff up. A real friend wouldn't do that.

I met Lawz through a personal ad that ran in the Penny Saver. I found I preferred it over the San Diego Reader because there weren't so many listings to go through. And they had a tendency to be women who were likely less picky about how they go about choosing prospective boyfriends. (Those women in the Reader were only interested in READING!)

I can't recall what Lawz' ad said, except that she was 29 years old. She called me back and we talked for awhile. She was currently unemployed and living with her mother. One of her past jobs was working for a dating service that used telemarketing to get their clients. The employees would receive a pile of leads each night and they had to try to sell memberships to their services. They got their leads by sending out surveys to people who were looking to date. But it was a high-pressure situation. The big problem was that if a client met someone through the service, they wouldn't use it anymore. If they had problems not meeting anyone, they would stop subscribing. But these people would still show up in the pile of leads. (I may have been desperate to meet someone, but not so desperate that I would send some company money every month to go through a series of date failures.)

Even though we had a good time talking on the phone together, I was having a difficult time getting her to agree to meet in person. She seemed interested in me, but kept shooting down any suggestion for getting something to eat, see some live music or just pick a place and time see each other face to face. But at one point during a conversation, she said something to the effect that she'd always wanted to see the Rob Lowe sex tape that had been circulating around (without the internet) in 1990. Guess what? I actually had a copy! All of a sudden, it was no problem for her to figure out a time and place to meet me.

We agreed to meet at some restaurant that had a happy hour. We saw each other in the parking lot and knew right away by our descriptions of ourselves. What did she look like? Well, if you've ever heard the song "1985" by Bowling for Soup, you'd swear it was about her. She was skinny, had blonde hair that she styled into a widow's peak. She looked like she saw no need to change anything about her appearance in the previous decade. And that was where her brain was stuck as well. She was all into the 80s hair bands and didn't care much for the more recent grunge music.

We quickly hugged and went inside the restaurant. We ate and drank the happy hour offerings while we talked. She actually liked my long hair, but it was so hard to read whether she liked me. We sat on opposite sides of a round booth the whole time. We did visit for about an hour before she said she had to go and asked for the tape. (I knew ahead of time we weren't going to be watching it together.) We would make arrangements to meet again so I could get the tape back.

We talked on the phone a few times after that. She was very funny and engaging on the phone, but I still couldn't get her to go out and do anything. She'd rather sit at home on a Saturday night and watch HBO with her mother than go out and do something that probably wouldn't cost any money. (I'd figured out how to do this for several months.) We did meet again so she could return the tape. Later conversations with her revealed that she was talking to other guys from the ad, but I was the only one she met twice. Apparently, they weren't getting anywhere with her, either.

I learned a lot about her during our phone conversations. One thing that ticked me off was that she would never admit when she was wrong. If she said something that wasn't factual and I provided the facts, she would say, "That's not the way I understand (or heard) it." I'd be willing to bet that she was capable of becoming an anti-vaxxer and responding to evidence by saying, "That's not what Jenny McCarthy said!" She's probably posting inaccurate memes on Facebook now and counters comments providing the truth with, "That's not what I was told!"

Another odd thing about her was that she appeared to be into bisexual men, or men who appeared to be bi-sexual. She once asked me, "Did you know there's a movie in which Hugh Grant kisses another guy?" I said, "Yeah, it's 'Maurice.' I've seen it before." "You know, that was such a big turn-on for me, seeing two guys kissing." Within the next couple of weeks, I had seen "Nine Months." I told her, "Hugh Grant kisses a guy in his new film!" "Really?" "Yeah, it's Tom Arnold!" "Oh, that really doesn't do it for me!"

Something else is that she was on Level 6 of Sexual Discreetness. She told me about how she had sex once with this guy just to see what it was like to be with someone that large. And she went into a lot of detail about the experience, almost enough for me to create a Level 6.5, but that's already covered in the other categories.

She told me that while she had sexual relations with several men, there was only one man she was ever really sexually attracted to. He was a 40-year-old musician. He and his band still had dreams of becoming successful and continued to pursue those dreams. They had an on-again, off-again relationship. I guess he liked the way she acted like a groupie, but something would happen and they would break up, only to get back together again later on. However, he had another girlfriend in the same sort of situation, so he kept bouncing back and forth between these two women.

She said she had written him a letter to try to renew the relationship and was on pins and needles wondering if he had received it and if he was going to call her. I think that he did get in contact with her, but she couldn't get things to happen. (Now she knows how all the guys who responded to her ad feel.)

A couple of months later, I got an actual girlfriend, who moved in with me. (More about her in the future!) I continued to talk to Lawz and she would call up and talk to my girlfriend when I wasn't at home. This led to some major issues when that relationship had its big first falling out. I got mad at Lawz for instigating some of it and didn't want to talk to her anymore. (However, I have to acknowledge that the same problems would have arisen without her involvement.)

Several months later, my girlfriend told me that Lawz had called and wanted to talk to me. She gave me the number. I called Lawz, but she said she didn't call me. (It turned out that my girlfriend had been listening to old messages on my answering machine and heard one from Lawz, thinking it was new.) However, Lawz updated me on what had happened to her recently. She had met some guy and they were about to get married. She said that she had taken him to a performance of a certain well-known bisexual performer and had actually gotten her fiance to kiss that performer on the lips.

I wished her luck with everything and figured I wasn't going to talk to her again. The very next day, I was at Fashion Valley and I ran into her. She was surprised by the coincidence. She was with her fiance. He was at about my level of attractiveness and sort of nerdy. He wore glasses and his hair was much shorter than mine, but I couldn't see that bisexual celebrity having any real desire to kiss him. Again, I wished the two of them the best of luck and went about my business.

I never had contact with Lawz again. I don't recall her last name, so I'm unable to locate her on the Internet. I have a feeling that she never had kids, but I'm certain she still wears her hair the same way.

Looking back, I realized I should have done things a lot differently with Lawz. If I could re-live that first phone conversation, I would just hang up on her once I wasn't able to get her to commit to meet in person, even without the Rob Lowe tape. But I was desperate for a girlfriend. If I was single today, I would definitely know when something was a lost cause.

I know what you've been wondering this whole time: How did I get my hands on the Rob Lowe tape? In 1990, Landmark Theatres in Denver was preparing for its annual Christmas party. Both the Mayan and Esquire were going to produce videos to show at the party. Our team had slapped something together, but we still needed to record an audio track for it. We didn't get it ready in time. Thinking that the Esquire was going to have something to show, the Mayan House Manager got a copy of the Rob Lowe tape and said he was going to present it as our video that we supposedly put together. Yes, he was going to show porn, and there were a couple of employees under 18.

The Esquire never did a video, either, and we never showed any videos at the party. But I took possession of the tape. I didn't watch it until three years later, when my brother Loyd came for a visit. The quality was cruddy, but you could tell what was going on. At the end of the tape, the Manager had edited in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Lawz watched the tape with a male friend and they about died of laughter when it came on. Later, my girlfriend accidentally came across the tape and labeled it "Rob Lowe f***ing Bugs Bunny." However, she somehow wrecked the tape so it wouldn't play anymore.

I miss that tape more than I miss Lawz.