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.

More about Fraz, Part 2

Besides photographing birds, Fraz was also interested in being a performer. She tried her hand at being a singer/songwriter. She learned how to play the guitar and had a few songs that she had composed. This was how we started becoming friends.

However, her desire to succeed as a performer created a problem when we went to see live music. She would enjoy it for a little bit. Then, she would start getting jealous and question why we were watching someone play when she should be up on stage and the audience cheering for her. She would start making critical comments about the performer to me. "She's not really that good! Why do all these people like her?" These comments would start off as whispers and gradually get a little louder, enough that people close to us could hear her.

Since the singer/songwriter thing wasn't panning out, she decided to try her hand at stand-up comedy. Fraz was actually very funny and entertaining to be around. Abed noticed that when I was talking to her on the phone, I would spend a lot of time laughing. But she couldn't get that part of her personality to translate properly at comedy clubs.

I frequently went with her to the open mic nights on Sundays at the Comedy Store in La Jolla. Everyone who signed up would get to do a three-minute routine. What Fraz would do was spend a full minute singing. And I don't mean she sang funny songs or parody songs. She would do songs like "My Favorite Things" or "The Lonely Goatherd" from "The Sound of Music" and she simply performed them straight. She always wondered why she never got asked back to do longer sets. I told her what the problem was. The people who book at the Comedy Store were probably watching her three-minute sets and thinking, "If she spends one-third of her three minutes singing, she will spend at least three minutes singing in a ten-minute set. If we give her 30 minutes, she will spend ten minutes singing! We can't have that! People are not willing to buy that much alcohol to find her funny!"

She would also ask my advice on how to make her jokes better. I would give her some, but she never would abide by it. She just kept doing her own thing.

Fraz also tried her hand performing as a "Drag King." Drag Kings are women (mostly lesbians) who put on shows similar to Drag Queens. I saw one of the shows that Fraz participated in. Fraz would do her act wearing a cowboy outfit with a fake moustache. I have to say, I find Drag Queens far more entertaining.

Otherwise, Fraz and I were very good friends. We had a lot in common, including our taste in music. Another thing that we joked about having in common was our taste in women. I actually had to worry about her trying to coax away women I was dating. I had a tendency to not let them meet her. However, there was one time I tried to coax a woman she had seen, but that's a story for a later time.

While we were only ever friends, I did get the idea that she would have liked for us to have been more. But I have a feeling she didn't like the idea of being emotionally tied to someone she thought was a "loser" (even though she had less going for her than I did, and if she didn't have that trust fund from her father, she'd probably be dumpster diving). This, more than anything, including her attraction to women, kept us from being a couple.

In the meantime, you'll see Fraz make a few more appearances in this blog, but she will not take center stage, like my ex-girlfriends. Even though I'm certain that's someplace she'd like to be.

More about Fraz, Part 1

(I had gone into a little detail about Fraz a couple of weeks ago. I wrote about how we met and became friends. I just needed to get some basic information out of the way so that I could clearly write about the incident involving LocalSinger. There was certainly a lot more to Fraz' story and she'll be making several appearances in upcoming posts. I'm using today's and tomorrow's articles to give more background about her.)

I called Fraz up a couple of days after I got her number at El Campo Ruse. She seemed excited to hear from me and we talked a bit about our interests. She invited me to come over and hang out on Halloween 1997. (Wow, 20 years ago!) She wanted to go to "A Nightmare on Normal Street," an annual festival-style gathering in Hillcrest.

I showed up at her house and Lawd (whom I met the second time I saw Fraz) was there. I realized at this moment that I was being Friend-Zoned. (Whatever.) He was apparently being Friend-Zoned, too. We hung out and Fraz just kept futzing around. Lawd and I kept trying to get her to leave to go to the Nightmare, but she insisted on us putting on some form of makeup for Halloween. I allowed her to put a little black triangle on my nose and whiskers so I looked a little like a cat. Lawd also agreed to a minor amount of make up.

We got over to Normal Street, but the event was already over. There were a lot of people hanging around in the aftermath, but crews were already taking down the stage. Fraz kept going around asking if anything was happening, but everyone told her the same thing. That was it. We missed it. I know EXACTLY how Cartman felt. (WOOHOO! A recent cultural reference!)

I did get to hang out with Fraz on numerous other occasions. Sometimes Lawd was there, sometimes it was just the two of us. It was always a struggle to plan things. If I came over to see Fraz, she would need to run a bunch of errands first before we would do the thing we planned on doing. Then, we wouldn't spend very much time on the planned activity.

Early on in the friendship, she came over to hang out with me at my apartment (without having to run errands first). We were going to watch a few episodes of "Ellen." She brought some alcohol with her. Since I didn't have a couch, we were going to have to watch TV on the bed. I was hoping that the alcohol might help lead to something happening between us, but it didn't.

While we were getting to know each other, I wondered how she supported herself. She freelanced as a journalist for the alternative lifestyle weeklies, but she clearly didn't make enough to afford her own apartment. And she didn't seem to have a regular job. Eventually, curiosity got the best of me and I straight out asked her. She admitted that her father was wealthy and he had set up a trust fund for her. She got an allowance and it was enough to cover her rent and other expenses.

After a few months, I got to meet her father. As it turned out, he has the same first name as me (my real name). Fraz said that if she knew me by my real name first, she never would have been friends with me. He was British, but became an American citizen. He seemed to tolerate my presence. Her mother appeared to have suffered from a stroke at some point. She had some trouble getting around. Her father was rather fit for his age and enjoyed skiing on a regular basis, something her mother couldn't do.

Fraz' thing was that she wanted to make a living photographing birds. In the United States, everyone says you can do what you want to do, but the opportunity to make money at it is not guaranteed. She had taken some amazing photos and had been able to have them displayed at local galleries and coffeehouses, but she didn't get paid for this.

And she was REALLY into birds. Once we were watching a documentary about the mating rituals of birds in Africa and the look on her face was like she was watching porn.

Prior to meeting me, she'd experienced a couple of setbacks. The first was that she'd survived a heart attack. She was 31 when I met her, so this happened at a fairly young age for her. The other was that she had been mugged at gunpoint. This created an aversion to violence. If we were watching something on TV, and it looked like violence was about to occur, she wouldn't be able to watch it. This presented a problem when we watched "Some Like It Hot." I had to fast-forward through the scenes involving gunfire. This also meant we couldn't go out and see movies because we almost never knew when one of them might contain enough violence to trigger her anxiety.

So, our friendship was basically limited to running errands, eating, watching TV and experiencing live events. As will go into detail in tomorrow's post, even that presented a problem.

Kelz vs. Chez: The Final Tally

So, you're probably wondering: Who out of my last two relationships took up the most space on this blog? Was it Kelz or Chez? I had pretend marriages with both of them, and they both had major impacts on my life.

As far as I know, I have finished writing about both of them. I've fully completed my story with Chez, but I know that I will be making reference to Kelz in an upcoming post down the line, so I will include that in her total. I am including this article for both as well. I am not including posts in which I merely allude to them.

I acknowledge that either one of them could make an appearance in my life right now and will give me more material to write about. I cannot sit around and anticipate that. If it happens, it happens, and you'll eventually learn about it.

Here's the deal with Chez: In real time and in dealing with each other face to face, from the moment I met her at her parents' house to the moment I last saw her at her apartment, our story lasted 9 1/2 years. With Kelz, it lasted a month shy of two years.

So, here is the number of articles each appeared in:

Chez - 56

Kelz - 83

Yes, I expected Chez to win this one. In fact, when I first started writing about Kelz, I predicted that there would be at least 20 articles about her. BOY! WAS I WAY OFF! On this blog, it takes me about a month to cover a year of my life. Even though Kelz and I were together for less than two years, I have spent the last FOUR MONTHS writing about her and nothing but her with the exception of most of my Friday articles!

And if Chez wants to catch up, she's going to have create a LOT of major drama for me! I DON'T WANT THAT TO HAPPEN!

Really, I could go the rest of my life without hearing from either one of them again.

But I do need to add that while I regret the period of time Chez and I lived together and wished that had never happened, I don't feel that way about Kelz. I would do anything to change the story about me and Chez, but not me and Kelz. It's often crossed my mind that if I set aside all the times she intentionally tried to sabotage the relationship, she was probably the best girlfriend I'd ever been with. We really bonded together so well and I fondly remember the good times we had. I don't do that so much with Chez. At any rate, I am rather glad that I don't really have contact with either of them.

And a special note to my regular readers: My blog is about to become a LOT less exciting from here on out. While a lot of bad stuff happened to me afterward, it was nowhere near the scale I experienced with these two women. But I guarantee it will still be worth reading.

A Momentary Follow-Up

While yesterday's post was very long, it could have been even longer if I had decided to include the information from today's article. I definitely had more things to discuss in the period of time that occurred between the sit-com moment and just a few years ago.

I don't think that I attended any more of LocalSinger's shows after the moment. The guilt I was living with really made it difficult to enjoy her performances after that. And I knew that one day, my identity was going to come out and be out of my control. So, by not going to her shows any more, I was able to completely avoid any further awkward situations.

LocalSinger never became someone who was wildly successful. She was able to make some kind of living as a performer, but she never reached the heights that she was fully capable of. I felt bad that Kelz made her go through something she wasn't ready for at a relatively early stage of her career for and probably never had to experience again.

One thing I didn't find out until later was that LocalSinger and Jazzer were very good friends. If I'd known that, I would have dropped her name instead of Appalachian's. I've always wondered if LocalSinger ever told Jazzer about the threats. And if she did, she probably mentioned my name. "Fayd? I met his girlfriend! She was crazy! I mean, Fayd's okay, but she had something wrong with her!" That conversation would have helped smooth things over, but I doubt it happened.

And there were other people she knew who'd had some minor contact with Kelz, including PuertoRican, Jez and two other people I'll refer to as "SeasonChanger" and "Catcher." I don't know that any of them could have given her much information or even remembered Kelz.

I'd put all of this out of my mind for about ten years. In 2010, I started a profile on Facebook. I was able to reconnect with a lot of people I knew from the San Diego music scene back then. After a few months, Facebook was suggesting friends I might connect with based on my current list of friends. One of them was LocalSinger. My first thought was, "Oh, no! If they're suggesting her to me, that means they're suggesting me to her. This is going to stir all that stuff up again for her!" I hope that she just ignored those suggestions, but it's possible she recognized me as that guy who used to come to her shows whose name she thought was "Perd."

Facebook no longer suggests her as a recommendation to me and I hope I no longer show up on hers. I would feel a lot better if she just completely forgot all about me.

A Sit-Com Moment

This article is likely going to be the longest one I'm going to write in this phase of the blog. It all leads up to a certain moment, and it would be just crazy to have several parts when it's really about that one moment. The course of this story spans four years and involves a lot of different people.

On July 13th, 1995, I went to Twigg's Coffee House in San Diego to experience some live music. I had looked for events in the San Diego Reader. At the time, they had a service in which you could call and listen to musical snippets by local musicians. I liked this one song by someone called Appalachian and decided to go check her out. She was hosting a regular series of weekly performances called "Appalachian and Friends." I came in before the show started and met her. I also got to meet the man she was married to at the time, but they never disclosed to me that they were married.

During the performance, a friend of Appalachian showed up. This was Jazzer. Jazzer went up and sang back up on Appalachian's song about a thrift store. (This was a hallmark of her shows, in which her friends would get up and sing this particular song with her.) Jazzer also performed one of her own songs and plugged a show she was performing that weekend at Seaport Village. I also got to meet Appalachian's dog Celie.

I came back to Twigg's the next Thursday. Appalachian saw me and told me that she had an opening act that night. It was a duo that featured a vocalist I'll call "LocalSinger" and a guitarist I'll call "LocalGuitarist." They used to be based in San Diego, but went up to San Francisco for a couple of years before coming back. This was one of their first shows since they returned.

A year and a half later, LocalSinger and LocalGuitarist had formed a full band that included bass, keyboards and drums. They had also released a CD. When Perd was staying with Kelz and me, the two of us decided to go to Java Joe's to check them out. Perd greatly enjoyed them. The table that had been set up to sell their CD also had some free PR materials on it. One was a card that utilized the cover of the CD. On the back of the card was a phone number. I noticed that the number was two digits away from the number for the voice mail I had set up for Ogolon Records.

I took the card and put it in the console of the car. I never brought it into the apartment or did anything with it. It just sat there in the console. Kelz was asleep when we got back that night.

About eight months later, I had managed to get Kelz and Sasd to leave the cottage. After I had gone with her and her uncle to set up the air travel arrangements for their departure, I came home and called my Ogolon Records voice mail. When I listened to the number as it speed-dialed, I could tell that the last two digits were off. The next thing I knew, I could hear a woman's voice giving performance dates. I quickly deduced that I had reached the voicemail for LocalSinger. After the dates were provided, LocalSinger said, "...and by the way, if any of you happens to know who Fayd is, could you please let us know? (slight giggle) We'd really appreciate it!"

I hung up the phone. I had all sorts of questions. What was going on? Why did she want to know who I was? The only thing I knew for certain was that Kelz had reprogrammed the speed dial on my phone to call her number. I wondered why she did that. Slowly, but surely, I started putting pieces together. I recalled how she had called up Thoz and Knod, accused them of having sex with me and threatened to kill them. Gasp! She had probably done that to LocalSinger! I figured she'd found the card in my console and decided that I was having an affair with her. And because her voicemail was two digits from my voicemail, it was easy for her to remember the number. This was someone I hadn't even met before! I had only seen her perform those two times and never said anything to Kelz about her!

I called the voicemail back to leave a message. At the time, I figured the threat had about as much impact on her as it did on Thoz and Knod. They didn't take it seriously and judging by the slight giggle she had on her outgoing message, she didn't, either. I had a light-hearted tone in my voice: "Hi. This is Fayd. Appalachian knows me. I think the reason you want to know who I am is because my ex-girlfriend has probably been calling you, accusing you of having sex with me and threatening to kill you. I heard your message because your voicemail is two digits away from mine and had gotten programmed into my phone. If you have any questions, you can call me." I left my regular phone number.

The next day, my phone rang. I answered. "Hi, is this Fayd?" "Yes?" "Hi, I'm Detective BW from the San Diego Police Department's Northern Division. I understand you know about the threats made against LocalSinger?" "Yeah, that was my ex-girlfriend Kelz." BW explained that he was investigating this case, even though it was out of his jurisdiction. He was brought in because he was investigating a death threat recently made against SuperFamousSingerSongwriter when she performed at Humphrey's and there was a chance this could be connected to that. He also said that while LocalSinger knew who Appalachian was, she didn't really know her. (I guess that wasn't the right name to drop, but it didn't make sense because the first time I saw her, she was opening for Appalachian.)

I started getting the idea that this situation was very serious, far more serious than LocalSinger's giggle had led me to believe. BW explained that Kelz had left three threatening messages on the voicemail. When LocalSinger heard the first message, she didn't go home for three days and waited for her fiancee to return before she could feel safe again.

Something I haven't mentioned about Kelz is the tone of her voice. It was rather deep. If you were to listen to her voice on the phone, you would have a hard time figuring out if you were talking to a male or a female. Because LocalSinger couldn't tell, it hindered her ability to perform because the person who left the threat could be anyone, ANYONE in the audience. She was truly freaking out about this.

I asked what Kelz said on the messages. BW said he could play them for me. The first one said, "You f*****' b****! I'm gonna kill you!" The second one said, "I'm gonna kill you, you b****! I know you've been f****** Fayd!" For whatever reason, he'd lost the third one. I told him it was definitely Kelz making those phone calls. However, I didn't think she was the one who made the threats against SuperFamousSingerSongwriter. We had no idea that she was playing at Humphrey's, so she wouldn't have known where to leave a message.

BW asked me to have Kelz call him the next time I talked to her. He said that right now, she was at a misdemeanor level, but if she left any more threats, it would be considered a felony. So, she needed to talk to him to get it straightened out and maybe they wouldn't press any charges. I also gave him my real name and address. I told him Kelz was about to leave for Iowa and didn't know when I was going to get to talk to her again.

Within 30 minutes, Kelz called my house. Before we got started on anything, I told her to write down the information I was about to give her. I gave the the phone number and the name of the detective. "What's this for?" "Well, this is about the threats you've been making against LocalSinger." "You mean your woman who you've been having sex with?" "Okay, I haven't been having sex with her, but you need to call the detective and straighten this out." "Why are they so interested?" "Because he's also investigating threats that were made against SuperFamousSingerSongwriter." "Yeah, you've been having sex with her, too!" "Riiiight, don't mention that to him." "But I didn't make the threats against SuperFamousSingerSongwriter!" "I know, and I told him that. But with the threats you've made against LocalSinger, you're about to commit a felony if you do any more, so you need to call this guy."

"We'll see." She hung up the phone. About five minutes later, she called me back. It sounded like she was panicking and trying to get her stuff together so she could leave right then and there. I asked, "Will you just call the detective?" We got off the phone.

About an hour later, I called BW to let him know that I had given Kelz the message. She had already called him and talked to him. She told him that once she came over to my apartment and she saw LocalSinger leaving. When she came inside, there were condom wrappers all over the floor and I was laughing at her. I found it hard to stifle my laughter when I heard this and I apologized for the uncontrollable outburst. I realized this was serious.

(What was really funny to me was that I didn't think that Kelz would have been able to identify LocalSinger from the picture on the card in my console. It featured her head tilted back and her mouth wide open. In order for Kelz to figure out who she was, she would have had to strike the same pose as she did in the picture.)

He said that he told her that I had identified her as the voice on the messages and he could tell by talking to her that she was the voice on the messages. He also told her that she had basically confessed to him and all she needed to do to avoid charges was to promise not to make any more threats against LocalSinger. She agreed to this. He said he had also talked to LocalSinger and she was relieved that it was more of a domestic situation and didn't really have to do with her. But it was still an unsettling experience for her.

In the meantime, I became aware that Kelz left one final message on LocalSinger's voicemail. She said, "Hi, LocalSinger. I'm sorry about putting you through all that. I guess it was some other hoochie woman I saw Fayd with who looked just like you." I really worried about what LocalSinger thought of me at this point. She likely could tell that Kelz was crazy, but did she think I was crazy, too?

The day that Kelz and Sasd left for Iowa, LocalSinger was going to be performing as part of a charity showcase featuring female performers at the Wikiup Cafe. I went that night. I found LocalSinger sitting with her bandmates. I went up and said, "Hi, LocalSinger, I'm Fayd. I'm really sorry about what happened. She left on a plane earlier today. I saw her leave and she won't be bothering you any more." She mouthed, "Thank you," but it was obvious she didn't want to discuss it any further. I turned around and left.

Fairly soon after, my friendship with Fraz started to blossom. One day, I was talking to her on the phone and we were discussing the local music scene. She asked, "Hey, do you know who I really like?" In my head, I was thinking, "Please don't say LocalSinger. Please don't say LocalSinger. Please don't say LocalSinger!" What did she say? "LocalSinger!" ("NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!")

LocalSinger happened to be playing a show at Java Joe's that weekend, so Fraz decided we should go to that. I hoped that we wouldn't sit close to the stage and could remain in the shadows so that she wouldn't see me. This happened to be one of the first performances in which LocalSinger was starting to branch on her own away from LocalGuitarist and was playing her own songs on the keyboard.

During the show, Fraz leaned over and asked me if I thought LocalSinger was a lesbian. Without thinking, I responded, "No, she has a fiancee." I could suddenly hear Fraz' eyes widening. "How do you know that?" "I... just... know that." Fraz seemed satisfied with that answer and didn't ask any more questions. Thank goodness!

Perd contacted me and said he wanted his wife Bird to see LocalSinger perform. She happened to be doing a show at Twigg's Coffee House that weekend. He had known about Kelz' threats and understood that I was going to try to avoid contact with LocalSinger. However, everywhere I went that evening, she happened to be nearby. It didn't matter if I was in the drink line, or outside or waiting for the bathroom. She was always in close vicinity. However, she didn't act uneasy regarding my presence.

Perd was very touched by the performance. It had such an impact, he said he cried during every song.

Over time, Fraz wrote a couple of articles about LocalSinger for alternative lifestyle publications. While she herself wasn't LGBT, LocalSinger was very supportive of the community and didn't mind being the subject of articles. I knew I could never tell Fraz about my connection to LocalSinger because she was sure to bring the threats up in an interview.

One time, Fraz told me LocalSinger had come over to her apartment to drop off some material. I was glad I didn't happen to be there. I had no idea how she was going to react when she saw that I was friends with Fraz.

In November of 1998, I shaved my iconic long hair from my head. While this wasn't the main reason I cut my hair, I felt like it would prevent LocalSinger from recognizing me and I could go to her performances like a normal person. This actually worked. I went to a couple of shows and didn't see any adverse reactions from her. I also didn't feel like I had to get out of her way. Once, I was at a showcase organized by Promoter and won a free CD. LocalSinger very excitedly handed me my prize and congratulated me. Yep, she had no idea who I was.

In September of 1999, I had planned a trip to New Mexico. By this time, Perd had split up from Bird, moved to Roswell and was living with a new girlfriend. Prior to the trip, I went to one of LocalSinger's performances at the Unitarian Church in San Diego and bought one of her CDs. I asked her to sign it and make it out to "Perd." Perd was excited about getting the CD. But I think LocalSinger probably believed my name was Perd at this point.

Fairly soon after that, a performer I'll call "Puerto Rican" was holding a CD release party. LocalSinger was going to open for him. Fraz wanted to go. We got there a little early and found seats. I was dreading the possibility of LocalSinger coming up and Fraz introducing us. I knew there would be an awkward moment when LocalSinger would suddenly go silent and start looking sad when she realized who I was. I knew that Fraz was going to start asking questions and I didn't know how I was going to answer her without her asking more questions or getting angry because there was a story I wasn't telling her. I hoped that LocalSinger wouldn't be hanging out with the audience prior to her part of the show.

That didn't happen. We saw LocalSinger coming in with Jez. They had just recently become besties. I thought, "Oh, no! If Fraz doesn't tell her who I am, Jez will!" They saw Fraz and started coming our direction. I could feel my brow sweating and my heart beating harder in my chest with every step they took toward us. When they got to us, LocalSinger turned to me and said, "Hi! How're you doing?" And then she turned to Fraz and talked to her a little. WHEW! Crisis averted!

After LocalSinger and Jez left, Fraz asked me, "You know LocalSinger?" "Uh, yeah. She's seen me at her shows." Fraz seemed satisfied with that answer and didn't ask any more questions.

And that was the moment my life was like a sit-com.

A few more words here and there

Over the years that passed, I would get reminders that Kelz was still out there, thinking about me. I once logged into my Rotten Tomatoes account (in which my profile name was "Fayd") and saw that I had a personal message from someone who used the name of a well-known cartoon character. (Let's say it's "Richie Rich.") Richie asked me if my last name began with an "O." I responded in the affirmative. Richie then wrote back and while I don't remember what was written, it was clear it was Kelz. I did not respond back. Sometime later, I got a personal message from someone else. This person identified herself as Sasd and asked if she could correspond with me because I was like the only father she ever knew. I figured it was Kelz who sent the message and I never responded. I never heard from Richie again on Rotten Tomatoes.

In May of 2003, I was living in a studio apartment in San Diego. By this point, I had a cell phone. I also had a landline phone, which I mainly used for Internet connection. This was the same phone I had when Kelz was living with me in the cottage. I almost always had the adapter unplugged, so the phone would never ring. I would only plug it in when I was expecting a call from my girlfriend, who lived in San Jose. This particular day, the phone rang because I hadn't pulled out the plug. I answered it. "Is this Fayd?" "Yes?" "You know, you're a very hard person to get a hold of." "Uh, who is this?" "You don't recognize my voice?" "No, I don't."

Then the caller said to someone else in the room, "Sasd, keep quiet! I'm on the phone." I then knew who it was. "Hi, Kelz." I wasn't very enthusiastic. She said that since I last spoke to her, she'd gotten married to someone else (not the same guy she had on the invitations) and had four more kids. She had also come through San Diego a couple of weeks prior to see Mr. & Mrs. B. She tried to get a hold of me, but I never answered the phone. I sort of freaked out at this because my girlfriend had just been in town a couple of weeks before. This meant that there had been a chance that we would have run into Kelz! This was frightening!

I told my girlfriend (who would later become my wife) what had just happened. She didn't seem too thrilled that I talked to my ex-girlfriend. I promised her I wouldn't talk to her again. I have kept that promise since.

However, Kelz could still sneak up on me from time to time. In 2007, we were planning our wedding. I talked to Abed, who said he and his girlfriend Keld were going to be coming. They were planning to make it a vacation to San Francisco, where he used to live. We would try to get together and meet one day before the ceremony. He also told me that he had gotten a friend request from someone named Richie on MySpace. Usually, he just approved the requests without looking, but he got a sense that he should check this one out. It turned out it was Kelz. At this point, Kelz was working as a veterinary assistant. He said she asked about me and he told her I was getting married. She seemed disappointed when he told her that.

Around this time, my fiancee started up a MySpace account and she decided to flirt with disaster. I asked her not to, but she sent a friend request to Kelz anyway. Kelz never responded or accepted the request. I was thankful for that.

In 2011, I noticed that Abed was friends with "Richie" on Facebook. When I visited him, I asked if he could show me her Facebook profile. He let me, but she didn't have any photos of herself. It appeared that she had gotten into dark graphic design and only posted her artwork. However, I could tell that she was using her face in some of the designs that featured women in provocative poses.

After that, I would do Google searches on Kelz and Sasd from time to time. In 2010, I found Sasd's birthday listed on a church program for a church in Garner, IA. On the church's website, I found several photos posted of their youth group. Among the children was one black girl. This was obviously Sasd. The website featured several photos that had her in them. It appeared that they enjoyed looking like a diverse congregation. However, I did not find any photos of Kelz.

In October of 2013, after I had started up this blog and the YouTube vlog to go along with it, "Richie" left a comment on my channel trailer. It read, "Very interesting stuff ____________________." She wrote my full real name! She even spelled my middle name correctly, which almost no one does! I freaked out! The first thing I did was delete her comment. I then entered a comment on my own, which read, "Someone had previously left a comment on this video that I had to delete. While I don't have a problem with comments, I would prefer they not contain identifying information." I intended for her to see that message. In the meantime, I noticed that she had apparently watched the channel trailer at least seven times. I told Ms. Ogolon that Kelz had written a comment on one of my videos, but I had deleted it. Other things were going on at the time, so she didn't get much of a chance to get into a huff about it.

Not long after that, she commented on another video in which I discussed a matter that involved me and my brother Loyd. She wrote, "No actually said This is ______ and this is _____... (our real names) Geeze if you are going to tell a story at least get the details right!!" I deleted that comment without an explanation.

Once, when I Googled Kelz, I came across a blog titled, "The Truth about Richie Rich." It was dated October 10, 2013. It started out saying that while everyone thought Richie was a nice person, she really wasn't and had a controversial past. It identified her real name and her real maiden name, so it was definitely about Kelz. It talked about how she had been arrested numerous times in San Diego and had gotten into trouble with the law before in Illinois and Iowa. It also said that she'd had most of her kids taken away from her. But I didn't know if that was referring to the crop of kids she had when she called me in 2003. This blog was obviously written by someone with an ax to grind. They posted it in the hopes that someone would Google her name and find the article. This was the only entry on the blog. About a year ago, I noticed that the post had been deleted. However, the blog itself still remains. (I've found out the hard way that you can't get rid of a blog once you've started it.) I can only imagine that the person who wrote the post had second thoughts and decided to remove the content after a few years.

Sometime after discovering that, I found a GoFundMe page for Kelz. This was probably what brought about that blog post. Apparently, she was suffering from breast cancer at the time and set up the account to raise money for her chemotherapy treatments. The effort only ever raised $10. I have not been able to find that posting since.

I don't know where Kelz is now. I don't know where Sasd is now. I found both their Twitter accounts, but they haven't been active on them in years. Kelz is still active on Facebook. I can't tell if she's still married. I found a relative's obituary from 2015 that listed her husband as a survivor and that she was his spouse. I did find out that her husband is a couple of years older than me, but that's all I really know. Her Facebook page does show how she looks now. She has a tendency to frequently change her hair color.

So, I don't know if I've heard the last of Kelz yet. To tell you the truth, I was half-way expecting her to show up and make comments on this blog to dispute my version of events, but that hasn't happened.

But I'm not closing the book on Kelz yet. Tomorrow, I'm going to have a very lengthy post about something that happened right before she left San Diego 20 years ago this month.

Get ready for some heavy reading.

UPDATE (07/13/18): I found a LinkedIn profile for Sasd. It features a photograph of her. She is wearing glasses. The weird thing is that she looks so much like Kelz when she was that age. She just has darker hair and complexion, but you can definitely tell she's related to Kelz, way more than in the church photos. The profile shows that she graduated from high school in 2015. About a year after graduating, she worked in fast food and retail. It shows that her most recent employment ended in November of 2017 and doesn't have an update. She also doesn't have any connections. I can only assume she set up the account in hopes of finding a job through LinkedIn. All I know is that I am not going to ask to connect with her.

It wasn't completely over

Even though she left California, Kelz was not totally out of my life, at least for the first six months. She called me when she and Sasd arrived in Iowa so I would know they were safe. I guess we agreed to keep in touch, but I knew I wasn't going to put much effort into that.

One thing I did was send her all the photos I had of her and Sasd. I also had a lot of the pictures that were originally taken at the hospital after Sasd was born. About a month after they left, I received a large envelope. Inside were two letters and a card with another letter inside. (I'm not going to share ALL the letters she wrote. Just a couple.)

From what I could figure out in the writing, the letter in the card was the first one she wrote. The card had a sexually suggestive bent to it and the letter expressed some regret about falling in love with me and provided her phone number and address. Then, it looks like she wrote this one:

As it turns out, she never did put Sasd up for adoption. And I don't think she got involved in the cult again.

The other letter in the packet expressed the same sentiments, except that she begged me to reveal my secret as to how I got over her so quickly. The truth was that I did not immediately get over her, but I was still in a lot of pain. One of the problems was that I was getting correspondence from the San Diego Police Department that apparently had me registered as a victim of domestic violence. I didn't like that designation, but it was one of the consequences I had to pay to get her permanently out of my life.

After Thanksgiving, I received two cards that had been mailed off the same day. One was a Christmas card. The other was a Thanksgiving card that included Sasd's first baby picture and a baby picture of the boy Kelz had before she met me. It also contained the postcard at the top of this article. Okay, that was CLEARLY intended to spook me a little. I don't care how smiley that face is, it's taunting me!

After New Year 1998, she sent two more cards. She included a photo of Sasd standing and another one of her and Sasd together. Kelz was sticking her tongue out with the piercing. The other card had unfocused photos of her without glasses, a nose piercing and her sticking her tongue out. It also had this "wedding invitation:"

It gave a date for a wedding between her and some guy that was set for February 15, 1998 at 2:30pm at a church in Garner, IA. And because she appeared to be getting married, she included this letter:

But of course, this was not the last I heard from her. She sent me a rather flirty Valentine's Day card. A couple of weeks later, she called me at work. My supervisor was surprised to hear her voice again. Kelz asked me to get Sasd some clothes for her birthday. She also told me that the wedding never happened and that she was still single. I went to K-Mart, found some stuff and sent it to her. I remember calling to make sure she got it. Kelz got very emotional on the phone. She said she couldn't believe that I could hate her so much, but still show love for Sasd. I told Kelz that I didn't hate her, but didn't offer any more than that.

Six months after she'd left San Diego, I finally stopped hearing from her on a regular basis. But she did find ways to communicate with me over the next few years.

I'll go into that tomorrow.

A little optimism

These are trying times for many Americans. I like to look at the bright side every once in awhile.



However, all I see are my friends still continuing to embarrass Republicans.

Bon Voyage

Even though they were out of my house, Kelz and Sasd wouldn't officially be out of my life for a few more days. They were staying with Kelz' uncle while they were waiting to get a flight from San Diego to Iowa. For some reason, I had to show up with them at the travel agent's office while they got their plane tickets taken care of. I remember her uncle didn't really say anything to me, but he was the one in control of when the flight was going to take place.

During the time that she was staying with her uncle, Kelz called and left a bunch of messages on my voice mail. (I had a separate voice mail set up for my music business that was not connected to my home number.) She sounded like she had been drinking. Most of the messages centered on how sorry she was for the way she treated me. She expressed gratitude for me helping her get off heroin and being able to keep her baby. She also stated that I didn't need to pay her back the money I owed her. When she said that, I took measures to record the messages onto a cassette. If she ever brought that issue up again, I could prove that she absolved me of the debt.

At some point, she called and left a message for Thoz on her answering machine: "You can just go ahead and have him!" Thoz was happy knowing she'd probably never hear from her again.

(And we also had one more encounter that involved the police before she left. However, that will be the subject of a separate post.)

The day came that she was to leave San Diego. She asked me to see her and Sasd off at the airport. When I got there, Kelz and Sasd were already at the gate with Mr. & Mrs. B. When Mrs. B saw me, she said, "Don't you feel good about stealing that money from Kelz?" It wasn't worth the effort to respond (even though Kelz had absolved me), so I just let that sit there.

I said my goodbyes to Kelz and Sasd and watched them go into the gate. That would be the last time I saw them.

(I should point out that this all took place 20 years ago this month. Funny how that timed out.)

For years afterward, I thought about the turning point from that night I called the cops. I've always wondered what would have happened if I had done as she requested and stayed at the cottage with her. Would she have really turned her act around? Would she really stop accusing me of cheating on her? Would she have really tried to be a better person and be more of a role model for her child? Would I have decided that it would have been a good idea for us to have our own child together? Could things have ever been that good?

I always come to the same conclusion I had the night she asked: No.

The Big Boss Battle

I'd reached the point that I HATED being at home with Kelz and Sasd. I mean, it was fine when we went out to do something, but it was like the cramped quarters caused the worse in us to come out. I dreaded coming home from work. If I found Kelz and Sasd sleeping, that wasn't a problem because it meant I could lay down and take a nap. But if they were awake, I had to work to sustain my energy to put with Kelz' nonsense for several hours before we went to bed.

(And of course, it didn't help that I never brought back the TV or the VCR. I still had those at work.)

I came home from work this particular day and they were awake. Kelz asked me to watch Sasd while she took a shower. No problem there. After she got out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around her and sat on the bed. She started getting on my case about something. I finally came out and asked, "Okay, when are you and Sasd going to fly back to Iowa?" "Well, when are you going to pay me back the money you owe me?" "It'll be a couple of weeks before I can get you the $200." "No, I want the $400 I loaned you." "You said I only needed to pay back half because I let you and Sasd stay here." "Well, now I want the $400." "Well, you're not getting $400!" "Well, I'm going to call the cops and tell them you stole money from me!" I said, "You know what? Go ahead and call the cops. Who are they going to believe? Me, who has no criminal record, or you, a recovering heroin addict and convicted prostitute?"

I started walking toward the living room. The next thing I know, I hear Kelz SCREAM! She came up behind me and knocked me to the floor. She punched me in the face and started pulling my hair, REALLY HARD, with both hands. "HOW DARE YOU CALL ME A JUNKIE AND A WHORE!" I managed to get up and leave the house. The top of my head was still stinging from where she pulled my hair.

I had been prepared for such a situation. I had memorized the non-emergency number for the San Diego Police Department. I went to a payphone on the corner and called it. I told the operator I wanted to report a domestic situation. I gave my information and Kelz' information. I stated that she had a warrant out for her arrest (which was true). They told me to wait outside the residence for the police to arrive. They would be there in about an hour.

I went over to the curb in front of the main house and sat there. I was surprised when I saw two male officers walking my way 15 minutes after I'd made the call. I waved at them and identified myself. One of them asked me if Kelz had a firearm inside. I said, no, we don't have any guns. I opened the front door. "Kelz! The police are here!"

One officer talked to Kelz in the bedroom while the other one talked to me in the living room. I explained what happened and said my head was still hurting from where she pulled my hair. I expressed my desire to get them out of the house, that this was my trump card and I wanted to play it now.

The officer asked me if I was willing to take care of the baby. I said no. He said that nothing was probably going to happen because they weren't going to arrest her with no one to take care of the baby, especially since the baby had to be hooked up to a monitor while she was sleeping.

The officer who was talking to Kelz told her something to the effect that she shouldn't be making that big a deal out of the money since I was letting her and Sasd stay with me. My officer asked me if there was someplace else I could stay that night. I said, "Yeah, I can pack up my foam mattress and go sleep at work." He recommended I do that while Kelz decided what she wanted to do. I grabbed the mattress and some spare clothes, put them in the car and left.

After about an hour, Kelz called me at work. She asked me to come back to the cottage because Mrs. B was there. I drove over. Mrs. B didn't have much to say to me, but left the bedroom after I'd arrived. Kelz said, "Hey, I'm sorry I hurt you. I didn't mean to do that. I was just upset at you calling me a junkie and a whore." "Okay." "Anyway, I want you to stay here with me tonight."

I didn't realize it at the time, but this was the turning point for us. I thought about it for a moment and said, "No, I think it's best if I spend the night at work. I'm pretty certain you're still mad at me and a night apart would do us some good." "WELL, F*** YOU, THEN!" I got up and left. I didn't even say goodbye to Mrs. B.

An hour later, I got a call at work. Kelz told me I could go back to the cottage because she and Sasd were now staying with her uncle. I was almost afraid to go home. What if it was a trap?

I figured I'd have to find out the hard way. I packed up the foam mattress and my clothes and drove back. Sure enough, they had left the cottage. I was there all by myself.

I didn't realize it at the time, but Kelz had caused some permanent damage to my scalp when she was pulling on my hair. I guess she yanked out a few follicles, leaving thin spots where I had felt the most pain. I started realizing that my hair didn't look as good as it did before and a year later, I shaved it all off. I never grew it that long again.

Even though Kelz and Sasd were out of the house, we still had a little ways to go before they left town.