Breakity Break

It looks like I'm going to have to go on another break from the blog. With the holidays approaching, I'm going to have a lot on my agenda. I've been posting on a daily basis (Monday - Friday) for 6 1/2 months, which is the longest I've gone without a break since I started this blog.

I was hoping I could keep up this pace through the end of the year. Alas, I am aware of my limitations.

On the bright side, I expect to start anew with the beginning of 2018. There are plenty of tight squeezes I have to get out of and loose time to get into.

In the meantime, enjoy the holidays, because you can't enjoy these donuts! (They're from Halloween! Talk about stale!)

Pain in the abs, Part 4

After Mom and Dend had left following my surgery, I went back to work. I had to go to the doctor for him to remove the stitches. When he did, it hurt like crazy! But it was real quick. He said I was healing quite nicely. However, I told him that if I coughed or sneezed, I could still feel it bulging out like it had done before the surgery. He said that was normal.

I did not engage in a lot of strenuous activity during the next two weeks. It still hurt a bit when I walked, but that started to subside. One day, I was crossing the street and the light turned yellow. Without thinking about it, I immediately started running to make it across in time. I realized after I'd gotten to the other side that I didn't feel any pain when I ran, so that meant I was definitely getting better.

I never had any more trouble with the hernia after that. After awhile, I found I was able to lift things again. I also noticed that the area stopped bulging out anytime I coughed or sneezed.

I decided to look into getting health insurance. My employer didn't offer any. However, I was a member of ASCAP and I thought I would call them to find out if they had a group insurance. It turned out they did. They sent me a brochure. They had one plan I could sign up for that would cost $50 a month. I recall there being a rather high deductible, but figured it was the best plan I could afford. I sent in the application and a money order.

A few weeks later, I got a letter from the insurance company. The envelope included my money order. My application for insurance had been denied because I had a pre-existing condition. That was the hernia. However, the insurance company indicated I could apply again in six months. (Where was Obamacare then?)

I went to get a refund on the money order. Because it was still made out to the insurance company, I had to pay $8 to get my money back!

It turned out that I wouldn't get insurance for two more years. This happened when I got a new job with benefits. I would not go the rest of my life without health benefits again.

Many years later, Loyd got a hernia and had to have a surgery. He had told the doctor about my hernia and that Grandma Ogolon had a hernia years earlier. The doctor told him that we likely had a genetic disposition that made us vulnerable to hernias and that it had little to do with the fact that he was moving furniture the day before his breach.

I've never had a surgery like that since. I've had to spend the night in a hospital, but that's a story for another time, way off in the future.

Pain in the abs, Part 3

In January of 1998, San Diego hosted Super Bowl XXXII. I submitted an application to be a volunteer. I waited for someone to call me, but no one ever did. I got a letter from the volunteer committee that stated that they had tried to contact me, but weren't getting a response. The letter also indicated that I needed to go through disability sensitivity training in order to be a volunteer. I called the phone number on the letter and left a message on their voice mail stating that no one had tried to call me and if they did, they weren't leaving messages.

(So, I guess that everyone who volunteers for the Super Bowl, including myself, gets the idea that they're going to get into the game for free. The first round of volunteers is contacted and their job is to call to recruit the other volunteers who have signed up. But that first group of volunteers wants to ensure that they get into the game, so they claim to make calls, but state they can't get a hold of anybody. This means they get to sign up for those prime positions.)

I called the other number in the letter to set up the training session. At the session, they had those of us who hadn't received assignments sign up for slots to be filled. What they had was working the NFL Experience. It's a kind of temporary NFL theme park set up at the stadium. I worked the Punt, Pass and Kick attraction. I helped to catch and return the footballs that were punted, passed and kicked. I was worn out by the end of the day. We were asked if we wanted to volunteer for another day, but I'd had enough. I did get a free T-shirt out of it.

Anyway, the organizers were supposed to throw a big party for all the volunteers as thanks. It was scheduled to occur a couple of weeks after the game. However, things fell through and there was no party. And I guess there was a lot of volunteers griping about the way they had been treated when they were trying to help out the city. (It wasn't just the party. Apparently, everyone had the same issues I had in trying to volunteer.) The Padres owners decided to step in and offered all the volunteers a free ticket to the home opener on April 7th, 1998 to help make up for the party that was canceled. The volunteers were also invited to take part in a pre-game presentation on the field. I had been sent a ticket and was looking forward to it.

However, I got my hernia and the Padres home opener was the day after my operation had been scheduled. I wasn't going to get to go. Since Mom and Dend were going to be there to help me recover, I asked Dend if he wanted to use my ticket. Mom said she also wanted to go to the game. There were arrangements for volunteers to buy extra tickets. I just had to go to the box office, give them my original ticket and offer to buy another ticket for $5 and they would give me two seats together. So Mom and Dend got to take part in an extra activity while they were visiting me.

The night before the game, I was recovering. Mom asked me what I wanted to eat for dinner. I told her I wanted pizza and that Dend could get Little Caesar's from the Kmart just down Texas Ave. at the bottom of the hill. He went out, got it and came back. I ate a few slices. However, my stomach was still sensitive from the surgery and I wound up throwing it all up. I felt bad. (But I did not vomit again for the rest of my recovery.)

The next day, Mom and Dend went to the Padres game. One of the extra perks with the volunteer ticket was that it was supposed to come with a voucher for a free hot dog and soda. Dend had the voucher, but couldn't use it at just any concession stand. There was a special stand set up for this and all the volunteers were there at the same time trying to get their free hot dogs and sodas. He had to wait a long time for that. He wasn't too happy and felt it wasn't worth the wait. And if he felt that way, that meant the volunteers probably felt that way. They got screwed over again.

I was able to stay by myself at home with no problems. I listened to the game on the radio. The Padres won 3 - 2 over the Cincinnati Reds in 10 innings. Just as I heard the game end, Mom and Dend came back. They had left a little early so they wouldn't have to deal with the crowd leaving the stadium and waiting for the light rail. They didn't regret missing the end of the game.

The rest of my recovery went well. Mom and Dend went back home and I was able to get back to work. I guess I was starting to feel a lot better since I mostly remember their experience with the game and very little of the suffering I had to endure during that time.

1998 happened to be the year that the Padres won the Division and went to the World Series. Mom and Dend enjoyed knowing they had attended the home opener of the team that got to play in the finals.

Tomorrow: The final word on this whole hernia experience.

Pain in the abs, Part 2

In yesterday's post, I described how I discovered I had a hernia and went about scheduling a surgery. I'd never had any kind of surgery before in my life. I hadn't even been in a hospital as a patient since I was born.

The first thing I had to take care of was cleaning up the apartment for Mom and Dend when they came up. Even though I knew about this for a few days, I decided to procrastinate until they called me from Yuma to let me know they were close. That meant I had three hours to clean stuff up. As it turned out, I came nowhere close to calculating the correct amount of time it would take for me to clean the place.

I also realized that I still needed to buy some new underwear for after the surgery. I needed a larger size because I knew I was going to have to keep ice on the incision area. I was able to enlist the help of Thoz, who was kind enough to run to Kmart to buy some briefs for me. (This was perhaps the only time in my adult life before I was married that I had a woman buy my underwear.)

Mom and Dend arrived and the apartment was still a mess. Mom complained about it, and she was right to do so. She helped to complete the cleaning. I felt really bad about that.

Because they came a couple of days before the surgery was scheduled, we decided to go to Disneyland. I was able to arrange with Chud to let us in for free. He was actually going to be there because his mom was in town to visit him. This was interesting because this was the first time since our recital in college 12 years earlier that I had seen his mother.

Mom, Dend and I had a good time at Disneyland. It was good to get out of the house and do something because we weren't going to get to do much of that while I was recovering. But nothing really eventful happened while we were there.

The next day was the surgery. Dr. A told me the procedure would take about an hour and I would be conscious. However, Mom said that while that was true, I probably wouldn't be aware of what was going on. I didn't know what to expect.

We arrived at the outpatient clinic. After going in the back and changing my clothes, I was taken into the operating room. The staff started administering the IV. After a few minutes, I heard a female medical assistant ask, "Should I shave the area?" I then heard her ask that again. And that was the last thing I remembered...

I woke up a little later. I could see the surgeon was working on me. I thought to myself, "Well, this is going to be one REALLY long hour." The anesthesiologist looked at me and asked, "Are you awake?" I nodded my head. "Okay, the doctor's just finishing up. You'll be out of here in a little bit." I thought, "Wow, did a whole hour just disappear from my life?"

After Dr. A was finished and the staff was wheeling me out, he said, "Oh, and I'm sorry about what happened to your penis!" I was still loopy from the drugs, but I probably figured he was kidding. "Oh, that's alright!" I guess he gets a kick out of doing that to the patients when they're still under the influence.

I got taken to recovery. I was given a cup of orange juice. I drank it and I fell back asleep. When I woke up, I was still holding the empty cup in my hand.

While I was in recovery, Dr. A came out to talk to Mom and Dend. However, Mom had been on pins and needles worrying about me and really needed to go to the bathroom. She held out as long as possible, but it got to the point she could no longer wait. That was when the doctor came out. He talked to Dend. He told him the surgery was a success and I was doing well. I talked throughout the procedure. (Really? What the heck was I talking about?) He also said I had a large hernia, about six or seven inches. But I would be fine now. Mom completely missed the doctor.

Mom and Dend drove me home. Then the real recovery began. More on that tomorrow.

Pain in the abs, Part 1

When Fraz and Jenz were roommates, I guess Jenz was a little put off by the fact that Fraz didn't have much actual furniture in her apartment. Fraz managed to get a couch from somewhere and needed my help moving it in. Fortunately, she had a pickup to transport it.

The three of us needed to move it from the pickup, across the driveway of the main house and down the stairs leading to the "in-law" unit where Fraz lived. Near the entrance to the stairs was a tree with thorns on it. As we were maneuvering the couch around the corner to the stairs, I felt one of the thorns pierce the left side of my nose above the nostril. It felt like it went in really deep. (Maybe an eighth of an inch, but that's still rather deep.)

We were able to get the couch in without any other problems. The three of us hung out for a bit before I went home.

The next morning, I felt some pain in my lower right abdomen when I was walking around. I didn't know what was going on. When I took a shower, I pressed down on the area. It was all "squishy, squishy, squishy." I thought, "Oh, that's not good." After walking around some more, I came to the conclusion that I had a hernia. And I didn't know what to do about it.

The pain wasn't constant. Every once in awhile, the breach in my abdominal wall would feel like it snapped back into place and I would be without pain for some time. Then, it would snap back out and I would have to apply pressure to it.

The first thing I did was go out an buy a new pair of jeans. The jeans I wore were probably a little small around the waist to begin with. This made me wonder if this contributed to the problem. Then I remembered moving the couch the day before. This may have also been a factor. However, I never felt the tear happen. Everything was fine when I went to bed the night before and I didn't feel any pain until I got up and started walking around.

After buying the jeans at the Miller's Outpost in the Fashion Valley mall, I immediately put them on and wore them out of the store. It helped relieve pressure on my waist, but I was still in pain. I recalled the images of trusses I had seen on TV and movies and decided to create a makeshift version. I went to Kmart and bought a large Ace bandage. I was able to stretch it around my waist and between my legs. This felt like it was holding everything in place, but I still had some pain here and there. I knew this was only going to be a temporary solution, but I didn't know where else to turn because I didn't have health insurance.

On top of this, I had planned a mini-vacation. Mom and Dend were going to be in Reno for a few days while he did some fire training for his job at the refinery in Artesia. In the previous year, Pacific Bell had created a rewards program in which you could earn points to go towards a number of promotions, including free airfare. They had a lot of premiums when the promotion was going on, but toward the end, the number of items you could get with your points dwindled dramatically. I just barely attained enough points for a free flight on Reno Air. I decided to use the points to go see Mom and Dend and do some gambling. I'd never been to Reno before.

The flight to Reno went very smoothly. Mom and Dend met me at the airport. Mom told me she had just won about $500 on a penny slot machine before I got there. I told her that was great, because I might need some of that money to go see a doctor while I was there. I told them about the hernia. I said that the pain was bearable, but I didn't know if I needed to go see a doctor. If it got a lot worse while I was there, it would need to be taken care of.

Fortunately, the hernia didn't feel like it was getting any worse during the visit, so I did not go see a doctor. I came back home and tried to figure out what to do next. Fraz told me that she found a low-cost clinic in San Diego and was able to set me up with an appointment. (She could be a good friend sometimes.)

The doctor who examined me told me I needed to go see a surgeon to get it patched up. She referred me to someone who she said would be able to assist a low-cost case. I called the number and set up an appointment. Dr. A was a man in his mid 50's. He felt the area and said it was a fairly large hernia. He recommended I have surgery to have a metal mesh patch inserted over the breach to hold the abdominal wall together. He said that while it wasn't a major issue now, eventually my small intestines would seep through the crack and work their way into my scrotum. The doctor's receptionist told me the procedure would cost $3000, including the doctor and outpatient facility charges. However, there may be a discount from the facility for their portion if their fees were paid upfront. I asked if they could take a credit card over the phone and she said they could.

I called my Mom up and asked her if she could pay for the outpatient facility fees. She said she could pay the facility, but I would need to pay the doctor fees myself. I agreed. Mom later decided that she and Dend would need to come out to San Diego to help me out when I needed the surgery. I went ahead and scheduled the surgery and told Mom when it was going to be taking place. They made their plans to drive to San Diego.

Tomorrow: I go under the knife.

No way to keep track of 2018

This nation is being torn apart and this is all I'm worried about right now:



When I find a solution, I'll be sure to post it. It's too bad the crises we face on a daily basis can't be solved by a YouTube video.

Fraz and Stad

Years before I met Fraz, she was involved in a long-term relationship with a woman named Stad. She told me about them going out and hanging around with other people. Fraz didn't really pay attention to the others because Stad was all she could see, she was that in love with her. She would come across women from time to time who knew her from back then, but she didn't recall meeting them.

Fraz showed me several photos of her and Stad together. It looked like they had a rather fun and interesting relationship. But the breakup, which I think involved Stad engaging in drug use, was apparently very devastating for Fraz.

I eventually got to meet Stad when she came to a barbecue at Fraz' house. I never got the full story about how she got invited, but Fraz warned me ahead of time that she was going to be there. Stad appeared to be somewhat inebriated. Fraz needed me to go to the store to get something and asked Stad to go with me. After we got in the car, I could sense Stad just STARING at me. I didn't look her way while I was driving, but I got the idea she was thinking, "I can't believe that Fraz lets you have sex with her!"

When we got to the store, Stad asked an employee for assistance and she helped us find the thing she was looking for. Stad was very happy and gave the woman a hug. I don't know what was going through the employee's mind. She probably didn't realize that she'd just been sexually harassed.

The whole time at the barbecue, I had a hard time seeing Fraz and Stad together, like they were in the photographs. But when the barbecue was over, Fraz asked someone to drive Stad home. Then, Stad started giving Fraz bedroom eyes and said, "No, I don't want to leave. I want to stay here with you. Please let me stay here with you." THEN I thought, "Okay, now I can see it." Fraz still made Stad go home. I'm pretty certain Stad thought Fraz and I were going to engage in activity of a sexual nature after she left.

Fraz and I saw Stad a couple more times after that. We met Stad at her workplace, which was a thrift store. We went out to dinner. Stad was very pleasant to be around when she was sober. But she didn't try any more moves on Fraz.

The last time I saw Stad was at the Adams Avenue Street Fair. I was watching SeasonChanger perform. I saw Stad in the back of the crowd. I went over and told her hi. She didn't remember me. I had to remind her that I was Fraz' friend. She acted like she remembered, but I don't think she really did. We talked for a little bit. I told Fraz about seeing Stad, but she didn't show much interest.

I never met another one of Fraz' past relationships again.

Friend Zone #12: Jenz

Fraz decided she needed to be the one to find me a girlfriend. So she wrote a personal ad for me to be placed in the San Diego Reader. I went along with it, figuring that if I wasn't having any luck with the ads I was placing, she might have a better idea about how to write something women would be willing to pay 50 cents a minute to respond to.

She titled the ad "5 O'Clock Shadow." (I have to go on a little rant here: This was because I only shaved once every three weeks and I almost always had stubble on my face. I HATED to shave, but my beard hair never grew out thick enough for me to have to shave every day. However, I also didn't want my beard hair to get to that point. I also HATED how I looked when I didn't shave, but I didn't have much of a choice. But if the social occasion called for it, I would shave more frequently than every three weeks. I did have to wait at least five days after my last shave in order for my electric razor to shave my face properly. Less than five days and I had to use a disposable razor, and I always got nicks. Now, I shave once a week and I still consider it a chore.) I just hoped that prospective respondents wouldn't be absolutely clear what that was referring to.

As usual, I was lucky to get one response. Her name was Jenz. She was 36 years old and had recently moved to La Mesa from San Francisco. We agreed to meet at the Trader Joe's over by the Grossmont Center on a Sunday afternoon. However, I'd never been there before and got lost. I found it about 20 minutes after the time we agreed to meet, but she had already left.

I was able to call her. I apologized for not arriving on time (which bugs the heck out of me when I'm not prompt) and she agreed to meet me another day. We set up a date, time and place. I don't remember where it took place at, but it was probably some coffee shop in La Mesa. She had short, spiky, dark blonde hair and wore glasses. She was rather cute.

She had been married before, but had divorced a few years ago and didn't have any children. She wasn't working, but was going to school to learn computer graphic design and animation. She had managed to get a grant to go to school and her father was providing her money for her living expenses.

I told Fraz about meeting Jenz. Her response was, "What did I tell you, Fayd? I get to f*** 'em first!" (Really? She'd seen "Don't be a Menace..."?) I told her that Jenz was someone she would REALLY like.

I arranged my next meeting with Jenz at a coffeehouse in Hillcrest. I told her I would be bringing a friend. Fraz and I arrived and Jenz was already there. Dard was also there. He was going to be performing an acoustic set.

During our conversation, Jenz revealed that she was actually 40 years old. This meant she wasn't honest with me about her age at first. But I couldn't really get mad at her about it because I had pulled the same stunt myself before on other women. It didn't really matter to me because I was still attracted to her and wanted to get to know her better.

However, Fraz found herself VERY attracted to Jenz. She asked Jenz if she was a lesbian or interested in women (and she kind of asked it more than once). Jenz never gave a solid yes or no to that question. When Jenz mentioned that she was moving out of the living situation she was in (living with some family and providing some babysitting services in addition to going to school), Fraz immediately offered her apartment as a place she could stay. Boy, this was NOT going the way I planned. And on top of all this, they were both DROOLING over Dard. And he made matters worse by sitting down and talking to us during his break. It may not have been Jenz' intention to Friend Zone me beforehand, but it looks like I had set everything up for that to happen.

Even though Jenz lived with Fraz for a few weeks, nothing happened between them. However, after she really got to know Jenz, she decided she wasn't her type. Jenz eventually found her own apartment near SDSU.

Jenz and I hung out a couple more times. Once, we went to a coffee house near SDSU and enjoyed some live acoustic music. I attempted to put my arm around her while we sat on a couch, but she sat up. I figured it wasn't going any further than that, so I never tried that again.

After a few months, Jenz sorted of faded out of my life. I don't know what happened to her and I never did really miss her once I realized she was gone. I don't recall her last name, so I'm unable to Google her.

But there was an unusual coincidence. When I was telling her about my music, she asked me if I had heard of a certain well-known guitarist from the Bay Area. I told her I had more than heard of him, I had actually met him. It turned out she used to be his babysitter.

It was probably the only thing we had in common.

Bedmate #2: Riz, Part 2

Please note that I covered the situation that caused Riz to be considered a Bedmate in yesterday's post.

Sometimes, Riz and I would hang out and do stuff together. Other times, she would do her own thing. One night, she went out by herself to go to a club in National City that was featuring a reggae night with live bands. I had gone to bed because I had to get up early the next morning. Around 10pm, the phone rang. It was Riz. "Fayd, you have to come over here right now to see this!" "Wh... What is it?" "I can't tell you! You just have to come over here to see this for yourself!"

I drove over to the club in National City and found Riz. She pointed at the stage. "Look who's here!" I looked at the band and saw that the keyboard player was Fud, her ex-boyfriend, whom she had a restraining order on. I didn't know the legalities of the restraining order and figured that if he was somewhere first and he was serving a purpose there, that she had to leave. "So what, you want me to drive you home?" "No, I'm not going home! At least, not right now. But since you're here, can you drive me home after they're done playing?" I agreed and found someplace to sit down.

Through the course of the evening, I found out the scope of the situation: It had been a dream of Riz' to become the girlfriend of the lead singer of a reggae band. She met this guy and he expressed interest in having Riz as his girlfriend. She did not know at the time that Fud played in the same band. The singer invited Riz to come see his band play that night. Riz was hoping this would be the beginning of an exciting new romance.

However, when she arrived at the club, she found out the singer was married. AND the wife was there at the club. He also had 20 children from about as many different women and his wife mostly took care of them all (but I don't know what the arrangements were that night). This was surprising because she was about 28 years old and was rather quiet. She may have come here from outside the US. She also didn't appear to have a problem with her husband having girlfriends and getting them pregnant. Riz was not about to start things up with this man, no matter how okay his wife was with it.

The band finished playing. Fud never came near Riz. I don't think she ever thought she was in danger there. I thought we were going to leave. But Riz wanted to stay and hear the next band. She wanted to stay 30 minutes more to hear them. Even though I was only going to get four hours of sleep at this point, I relented.

Between bands, there was a DJ playing reggae music. Riz started up a conversation with him. When the next band started playing, he stood with her in the audience and started putting his arm around her. After the 30 minutes was up, I asked Riz if we were going. The DJ told me that he would go ahead and drive her home.

I went out to my car and started driving. I WAS SO ANGRY! I was so upset that I didn't want to go home and sleep, so I just went to work. I was so mad about so much. I was mad that she called me out there when she knew I needed to get up early. I was mad because she made me stay when it was really clear that I wanted to go. And I was particularly mad because I didn't know how I felt about all this. Did I want something to happen between me and Riz? Was I jealous that she went there to start something up with one guy, but wound up with someone else, almost like a bait and switch? I had no way of sorting out my feelings on this because I didn't know what I was feeling. And a lot of it had to do with the fatigue. And even almost 20 years later, I still have not come to terms with this.

And if I hadn't been called over there to witness it, everything would have been fine. She would have just come home and said, "Oh, I met this guy. He's really great." I would have been happy for her AND well-rested.

She arrived for work around 8am. She didn't talk about anything that happened between her and the DJ. However, she didn't mention anything about me not being at home, so I have a feeling she didn't go back to my apartment. Around 10am I told her I had finished all my work and was going home. That's when I let her know that I hadn't gone home, but tried really hard to not make it look like I was irritated.

Riz eventually found her own apartment and moved out. She continued to see the DJ, but she didn't talk about him at work. Toward the end of 1998, she suddenly stopped working. I saw her again at work in March of 1999, the day after I bought a new car. The DJ was with her and they both came out to look at the car. She told me they were going to get married. I told them congratulations. Riz was excited about my car.

A few months later, she called me and said she'd gotten married to the DJ. I offered congratulations. She asked about some of the people she used to work with.

Around February of 1999, she called me and told me she needed to crash somewhere that night. This was after Abed and I had moved into a two bedroom apartment on Adams Avenue. We had plenty of space. She slept on my foam mattress in the living room. She didn't go into detail about what was going on. I remember seeing her the next morning and she commented that the foam mattress was surprisingly comfortable to sleep on.

I didn't realize it at the time, but that was the last time I would see her or speak to her. I can't find any social media accounts for her. She's lived in a few different locations across the United States. But she seems to have gone back to her original name. I mean, her original, original name from when I first met her. I guess she's not married anymore, at least not to that DJ.

In the end, it wasn't worth losing sleep over.

Bedmate #2: Riz, Part 1

(What's a Bedmate? Click here!)

I've mentioned Riz before. She was a co-worker of mine at News Monitoring Services. She was a tall, thin black woman about a year older than me. She always had a high spirit about her and she was fun to hang around with.

My Mom got to meet her one time when she was visiting and I had to go to work. They talked for a little bit. After we left, Mom said, "She's nice. Maybe you should try to marry her!" My jaw dropped. When Loyd and I were younger, Mom told us that if either one of us married a black woman, she would disown us. I reminded Mom of what she said way back then. She denied ever saying that, but Loyd and I both have clear memories of that statement. At this point (Loyd and I were both in our 30s), I guess Mom was so desperate for either one of us to get married and have children that the race of the potential wife no longer mattered.

(And I should add that Mom saying that when I was a teenager created a stigma for me. To this day, it is very difficult for me to meet a black woman for the first time and find her attractive. After knowing the woman for a time, I can start to see the beauty, but it almost never happens at first sight. And I guess I wasn't the only one who faced this issue from his parents growing up. My friend Led told me about going to his 10-year reunion and how the one black girl in the class was "smokin' hot." All the guys danced with her. She was forbidden fruit in high school, but her classmates grew up away from the influence of their parents and realized what they had missed out on.)

In 1996, Riz had a boyfriend I'll call Fud. He was a white guy around my age. The first time I met him, I was at work and needed a ride home because my car wasn't working. A few weeks later, I was walking in the vicinity of my workplace and I ran into Fud. He was sweeping up outside some business. He recognized me and said hi. It took me a little bit, but I recalled where I had met him.

Eventually, Riz started having problems with Fud and broke up with him. He turned into a stalker and she had to get a restraining order against him. The situation became so severe that she quit work and moved away. A few weeks later, we got a card at work from her that told us that she had changed her name.

Early in 1998, she decided to move back to San Diego and work for News Monitoring again. We were all happy to see her. To help get back on her feet, she was staying with Mr. N. She wound up not liking that very much because he had a pool and he liked to go swimming in the nude when she was around.

When I came to work and saw her the first time, she asked if I had room at my apartment and maybe she could stay with me instead. I agreed and we drove over to Mr. N's house. She grabbed her stuff and stayed with me a few weeks.

A couple of days after she had moved in, we went out to Ocean Beach where some of her friends were having a party. I remember one of the other women there was pregnant. I talked to her about my recent experience with caring for a baby. After the party, Riz and I came home and crashed in the bed in the living room. We were both fully clothed and nothing happened. This was the extent of her being a Bedmate. We never slept in the same bed again during her stay.

Shortly after this, I was going on vacation. I was going to fly to New Mexico for a week and I let her drive my car. She didn't really have any problems with it, but one day, she was filling up with gas. A couple of times, guys drove past her and were going "Woohoo!" and doing other cat calls. She wondered what was up. After she finished filling up, she noticed a sticker on the trunk that my last girlfriend had placed there. It said, "I like my women pierced!" She thought, "Argh! No wonder!"

(Abed commented later that the funny thing about that sticker was that it was the only one on my car. Lots of people put lots of stickers on their car, so they don't really mean anything. But since that was the only sticker on mine, people who saw it probably thoight that a woman having piercings was REALLY important to me. In addition, when I had to finally get rid of the car, Fraz told me she wanted it specifically because of that sticker.)

So Riz and I were never romantically involved, but something happened while she was staying with me that made me feel like I WAS in a relationship with her. I'll get to that tomorrow.

More than I expected

You can get a few surprises during Halloween.



The funny thing is that I later opened a Mentos of a different flavor and only found half a candy in there.

Lostop #3: Wiz

(What's a Lostop? Click here!)

In December of 1997, I had booked a show at one of the larger venues in San Diego, Brick by Brick. They had a monthly new artist showcase and they had asked me if I wanted to take part. I agreed and set about trying to set up an actual band to perform with me. I was able to talk Zid into singing lead vocal on most of the songs (because I offered to pay her $50 for the gig). I also recruited Fraz to play rhythm guitar and Perd to play bass.

But I couldn't get everyone together for regular rehearsals. Fraz and Perd eventually decided they didn't want to do it, but Zid was still game. I gave the lyrics and piano tracks for the songs I wanted her to perform. The only caveat she gave me was that she wasn't going to be able to memorize the lyrics in time for the performance. She would have to be holding up the pieces of paper while she performed.

The best time for us to get together and practice was when she was rehearsing for a church Christmas musical. It was a church she didn't belong to, but she knew the music director and he asked her to sing a few solos. Since the full choir was at these rehearsals, she wasn't needed all the time and we could practice between her sessions in a separate room that had a piano.

The first time we rehearsed at the church, a friend of hers hung out in the room with us. Her name was Wiz. She was 20 years old, a little overweight, but very cute. She had light brown hair and cerebral palsy. The condition mostly affected her legs. She was able to stand and walk, but it was a bit of a challenge for her.

During the times that night that Zid was required to rehearse the musical, Wiz and I hung out and talked a bit. After rehearsal was done, I walked with Wiz out to her car. I guess she could tell that I liked her, because she gave me her phone number and asked me to call her. I was rather stunned by this, but was thrilled at the prospect of not having to figure out if someone liked me enough for me to approach her and try to coax that out of her.

I called her up a few days later. She sounded excited to hear from me. We talked for awhile and planned to see each other again at the next church rehearsal. At the rehearsal, I was waiting for Zid to finish her part in the musical so we could go back and rehearse. Wiz wasn't there at first, but she came in later. She appeared to have been crying. However, she didn't tell either me or Zid what was going on. But Wiz and I did talk for a little bit and made tentative plans to do something together the next weekend. I just had to call her to set it up.

I called her that Saturday and we decided to go out to a coffeehouse in San Diego. I came over to her house and met her parents. They seemed like nice people, but I don't know how they felt about my long hair.

We ordered drinks and talked for awhile. I told her a little about my recent past and she told me hers. She said she had previously been promiscuous, but that was all behind her and she wasn't going to do that any more. I didn't have a problem with that. I wasn't looking to get into another heavy relationship right away. I hadn't set any expectations when I started talking to Wiz and just figured we'd both work on getting off to a good start.

Then she asked me how old I was. I told her I was 33, which was 13 years older than her. I asked her if that bothered her and she said no. I didn't notice any change in attitude on her part, so I thought everything was okay. I took her back home and said we'd see each other again.

She didn't show up at the church for the next rehearsal Zid and I had. I called her the next weekend. She told me she was in the middle of watching a Lifetime movie. I tried to have a conversation, but she said, "Hey, I'm really into this movie. Can we talk later?" I said sure and we got off the phone.

I had to think about this for a minute. We're just barely getting started and she's brushing me off for a TV-movie? I mean, she could have just grabbed a VHS tape, stuck it in the VCR and started recording. The fact that she didn't do this or even try to turn off the TV bothered me. I came to the conclusion that the age thing probably bothered her more than she wanted to admit. After all, I was likely closer to her parents' age than to hers.

However, I did need to consider that there were red flags, including the promiscuity. I decided to take the hint and never call her again. And that's just what I did. She never tried to call me again, either. And she didn't show up at church for the next rehearsal. Later, Zid asked about what happened between me and Wiz. I told her the story and she agreed that there may have been a problem with my age, but she didn't know for sure because she wasn't very good friends with Wiz.

I don't know where Wiz is now. She has a rather common name. I came across numerous obituaries with that name in San Diego, but none of them appeared to be her. I hope she's not dead. Chances are she got married and had some kids.

In the end, I'm thankful that we didn't get full on into a relationship. As much as she was trying to avoid drama, I'm certain it would have found its way toward us and I would have had another girlfriend that I would have posted at least 50 articles about.

As for the show at Brick by Brick, it didn't go over that well. I had paid $75 to rent an electronic piano for the performance, so it SOUNDED great. Zid and I had rehearsed the songs well enough, but didn't know what to do between songs, so we had a lot of patter on stage. Abed was the only person who came and paid to see us play, so it didn't really matter how much we pattered. (I should add that Fraz was there and had helped me set up the keyboard, so I didn't make her pay.) No one was really there to see us. Abed did say that on the songs that Zid sang on, I was playing the keyboard much better than when I was singing. That made a lot of sense.

I never got another gig like that again. However, I did eventually get another girlfriend, but that's another story further off in the future.

A little confession

Something may have become somewhat apparent from my posts the past couple of weeks. More astute readers will have likely noticed that I was rather familiar with several female singer-songwriters from the San Diego music scene in the 1990s. I also knew several male singer-songwriters, but I attended far more performances by the women. (Just a quick note: I will not be making any references to specific people in this article, like nicknames or other identifying characteristics.)

I realized later that I did this to fill a major void that I had in my life at the time. Since it was so difficult for me to find female companionship, I sought this out as a substitute. I could go see women in intimate venues and appreciate their talent for singing and songwriting.

I do need to make clear that I never sexually fantasized about the women. But I often wanted to get to know them better after seeing them perform a few times. If they saw me come to a few of their shows, they would start conversations with me. This would typically be the beginning of the artist-patron relationship between us. These encounters would rarely progress into actual friendships, but there were a couple that did. However, these were not with major members of the San Diego music scene.

This all started in 1994, after I had produced my cassette release and was working on material for a CD release. One of my issues with marketing my material was that I was not really an active member of the scene. I started out attending a showcase for singer-songwriters at Java Joe's in Ocean Beach. One of those in the showcase was a woman whose musical style really struck a chord with me. I saw her at a couple more showcases. There were other singer-songwriters at these showcases and I started to enjoy the variety that the local music scene offered.

Most of the time, it wasn't a problem, especially if there were a lot of other people attending the performance. However, there would be those times in which there might be five people there to see the show and a couple of times in which I was the only one in attendance (at least, for the first few songs). If I was the only one there, it made for an awkward situation, so I would pick something up to read. However, I don't know if that was better or worse, because it appeared like I wasn't paying attention.

One thing I can tell you is that I was not the only person who did this. I would frequently run into the same guys in the audience at various performances. We never talked to each other or tried to become friends, but we all knew what we were there for. When I started performing my own music, one of these guys showed up. He was talking to the female vocalist for the headlining act before the show started. As soon as I got on stage, he left and did not return.

This did create a bit of a problem with my actual relationships, but it took me a while to figure out something was wrong. When I did get girlfriends, I still felt compelled to see the performances. I wanted my girlfriends to like them as much as I did. But they didn't enjoy it that much and likely viewed them as threats to the relationship. I never could convince them otherwise. I learned my lesson a little too late with them.

Since I moved away from San Diego, I don't get to see live performances that much anymore. I do miss it, but I'd miss having a real relationship even more.