Artistic Cannibalism

I have to start this article with a little flashback: During the Spring of 1985, I was in my Junior year of college. I was taking the Advanced Television Production class. While most of the other students produced news segments, I attempted to do entertainment.

The same semester, I was taking the Advanced Directing class in the Theatre Department. Chud was taking the class with me and he was interested in doing an experimental acting project and capturing it on video. We decided to team up. I would use the project for my television class and he would use it for his directing class.

It was titled, "Cannibalistic Instincts of Mice in Isolation." It was about a student who shoots a "video diary" in which he talks to the camera. He describes an experiment on mice that leads to them cannibalizing each other. He then decides to try the experiment with people to see if they surrender to the same end. While carrying a video camera, he tricks four female students into going into the theatre basement for a scavenger hunt during Spring Break and traps himself inside with them. They go through the supposed stages of death without ever succumbing to eating each other. After two days, they're rescued and nothing bad happens to the student who trapped them. (Yes, we were poor storytellers and completely naive about how this would have played out in the real world. But we were mostly concerned with the acting experiment, which we were very satisfied with. If we'd had more time to think about it, we would have made sure that student paid major consequences.)

Cid played one of the students. (I've made passing reference to two of the other female students, but never gave them names.) We spent six hours in the basement shooting footage, most of it improvised. Chud and I edited everything down to a 40-minute program, which was pretty much unheard of for a student video project at ENMU. We both earned A's in our classes.

So, you're probably wondering why I'm not sharing that project on YouTube. Well, as I've mentioned before, ENMU was a horrible school for learning how to produce entertainment when I went there. There was no one there to tell me to get the participants to sign releases so I could share my projects without having to hunt them down years later and get their permission.

However, an opportunity arose in 1999 in which I would be able to have a public viewing of the project. A friend of mine from the music scene named Goad was setting up a small experimental video festival at a gallery in Downtown San Diego. He was looking for submissions. I thought about my project, which I had converted to VHS in college. I used the VHS editing equipment at my workplace and edited in new titles so that my name would be displayed as "Fayd" instead of my real name. I also put a copyright statement at the end and entered the year as 1985.

Goad added my project to the lineup. This was scheduled to take place on the same night that several musician friends decided to perform a series of impromptu guerrilla acoustic experimental music demonstrations around the Downtown area. These friends included Abed, Hird, Ferd, Marrad, Leaz and a few others. Abed had an experimental video he wanted to submit that was comprised of mostly still images he had shot with home video equipment. He thought he would be able to have everyone come in and play live music to accompany the video during the festival. Goad gave us an approximate schedule for when our projects would be played.

I told Chud about the festival. He considered coming down from Burbank for it, but I told him it probably wasn't going to be a lot of people there to see it. He decided he didn't need to be there.

The night of the festival, I took Abed to the meeting place for the musicians Downtown. It was a few blocks from the gallery. Most of them were already there setting up their instruments, which primarily consisted of percussion. He told me to tell Goad he wasn't certain if he could get them to agree to play during his video, so he shouldn't worry about him showing up. Before I left, Abed told the others about the festival and some of them said they wanted to come in and watch my project. I was pretty excited about that. I told them what time mine was scheduled.

Goad started the festival. It was a lot of videos featuring people who obviously edited from VCR to VCR using the pause buttons and no time-base corrector. They were all crude, but entertaining to watch. I could at least be proud that mine was properly edited. There were about 40 people in the gallery watching.

Then came the time for "Instincts" (as I commonly referred to it) to start. I introduced it to let everyone know that I had produced it in 1985, YEARS before "MTV's The Real World" and "The Blair Witch Project." I felt like I was ahead of my time in college and just lacked the resources to change the face of television back then. All of a sudden, there was this loud racket right outside the gallery. The musicians had decided that this was the next random location for a demonstration! I was flabbergasted! I mean, I didn't really have a problem with them not coming in and watching the video like they said they would. I halfway expected them to flake on that. But they were out here cannibalizing my work! And I couldn't do anything about it! I knew that if I tried to get them to move somewhere else, they would have retaliated by playing even louder!

Because of the noise, the crowd of 40 people suddenly dwindled down to six. At one point, Leaz came into the gallery. I thought she was going to stay and watch, but she went back outside after about a minute. And then, as soon as my video finished, they stopped making noise and went to another location Downtown. Goad was also mad that happened because he wasn't able to get the audience back for the rest of the festival, which still had about three hours left to go.

I was furious! I felt like I was a deliberate target of sabotage. Yes, I'm certain they didn't plan it that way, but I wondered if any of them, including Abed, had any respect for me as an artist. It felt like college all over again.

A few days later, Abed was talking about how the local musicians and artists needed to support each other. I asked him why he didn't think of that the night of the video festival when everyone was outside wrecking my presentation. He didn't realize until then how much he and the others hurt me with what I perceived as disrespect. And they also hurt Goad. Abed said they didn't realize they were being that loud.

There was an odd aftermath to this incident the very next day. I'll get to that tomorrow.

Girlfriend #7: Jolz, Part 7

I kind of felt like Jolz and I were coasting in our relationship. We still had good times when we were together, but I was getting fed up at her canceling plans we had made, especially those times I wanted to see live local music.

And I have to admit some fault on my part in this department. Jolz didn't like that I had a platonic female friend. From Jolz' perspective, every time Fraz called when we were hanging out at her house, I would leave and do whatever she wanted. (But I should add that when Abed needed something and I was with Jolz, I would also leave to help him.)

Things came to a boil when I was at Jolz' house and we were watching "Curse of the Blair Witch" on the SciFi Channel. Even though Jolz didn't care too much for scary movies, she wanted to see "The Blair Witch Project" in the theatre. I thought it would be cool to have her latch on to me during the scary parts.

While we were watching the show, it became apparent that she actually thought the Blair Witch was real and the film was a documentary with found footage of the victims. This is when THE ARGUMENT took place.

I told her, no, it's all fiction, it's not real. But she kept insisting it was. At first, I thought she was just joking around, but she kept it up. For every piece of evidence that I could think of that I had read about the film, she would counter it with some silly explanation. "Okay! The woman in the film who supposedly dies in the end is going to be at the San Diego Comic-Con in two weeks. How do you explain that?" "That's her sister!"

We didn't have instant access to the Internet back then, but I'm pretty certain that even if we had iPhones and Wikipedia, she still would have kept believing. I finally gave up and left the house in a huff. The thing that got me the most was that I was telling her the truth and she just would not believe me. How was this going to play out in the future? What if her brother lied and told her he saw me making out with some other woman at the Family Fun Center? Would she refuse to believe me then? This was definitely not the type of relationship I wanted to be in.

I wondered if it was possible for us to break up through sheer osmosis. I decided to try a little experiment. I would not call her. I would never call her again. And if she never called me again, that meant it was over and we could just consider THE ARGUMENT the break up conversation. That sounded good to me.

A few days later, I still hadn't heard from her. I thought I would take a chance on the personal ads to see if there was someone desperate enough to date me. I looked through the Penny Saver and found a suitable ad. When I called the voice mail, the ad belonged to Jolz. WHAT?

I had to think about this for a minute. I didn't know when the deadline was for putting in personal ads forthe next publication, but it appeared that she had done this before THE ARGUMENT! I don't know what she was planning to do with a new boyfriend since she said she couldn't have sex for six months. This made me wonder if she wasn't looking for something to argue about in order for us to break up and the Blair Witch provided the perfect opportunity. DAMN YOU, BLAIR WITCH!

One week after THE ARGUMENT, my phone rang. It was Jolz. We started out pleasantly enough. We started working toward the big question of whether we wanted to stay together. I mentioned that I had found the Penny Saver ad. Her explanation was that she was showing a friend of hers how to put one in. "So did she put in an ad?" "No." "Well, why didn't you just remove your ad?" "Once you put in an ad, you can't take it out." I knew that wasn't true. I had put in enough ads in other publications to know how they worked.

I then had to ask the really big question: "Do you believe the Blair Witch is real?" All she had to say was no and I would have stayed with her. "I think the Blair Witch is real, yes." "Well, I can't deal with that, so this is over. I'm sorry. Goodbye."

And I thought that was it. It wasn't, but there will be a few posts on other topics before I get back to that.

Stay tuned.

Girlfriend #7: Jolz, Part 6

Jolz and I continued being boyfriend/girlfriend for a few weeks after she had her bariatric surgery. She was adjusting to the restrictions very well. We still went out and did things. They just didn't involve food. Even though I was being supportive through all of this, cracks were starting show in our relationship.

One issue I had was that she wanted me to come over to her house around 5pm every other day to eat dinner with her family. This itself wasn't the problem, but the traffic going out to El Cajon at that time was horrible. When I first started, I thought it would be like the traffic in Denver, in which there was a siphoning effect. However, it seemed like every car on the highway was going to El Cajon. It made for a stressful drive, which I didn't appreciate when I was trying to go see my girlfriend.

She still spent Friday nights with her boss. They just didn't eat like they used to. They would go out and do things. Most of the time, it was to go see movies. Again, this probably didn't sound like a problem, but she would end up going to see movies with her that we had made plans to go see. This meant that by the time we went out, she'd already seen the movie. And she usually didn't tell me this until after it was over. "Wow! Were you expecting (such and such) to happen?" "Yeah, I saw it last night with my boss."

A couple of times, the Friday nigh involved going to a strip club on "Ladies Night." She told me about getting lap dances from male strippers. The funny thing was that this didn't bother me in the slightest. (I was surprised by this myself.) I guess it was because I was confident that none of the men she paid to do a lap dance would have any interest in doing anything else with her. However, I did get the feeling that if I wanted to pay a stripper for a lap dance, Jolz wouldn't be as casual about it.

Once Jolz asked me to come to a party that her aunt was hosting. Her aunt had graduated with a Master's degree and was celebrating. Jolz didn't have the exact address, but told me the intersection in San Diego where her aunt lived and I would meet her there. She said it was a white house on the corner. I got there and ALL FOUR CORNER HOUSES WERE PAINTED WHITE! I walked around to each of the houses and heard the sounds of a party coming from the yard of one. I knocked on the fence. This woman opened the gate. I told the woman I was Fayd and asked with Jolz was there. She said, "I don't know anyone named Jolz" and shut the gate.

Fortunately, Jolz had a cell phone (at a time when few people had one). I found a pay phone nearby and called her. I asked her which house on the corner because they were all white. She said it was on the southwest corner. "That was one I was just at. The woman who answered said you weren't there!" "No, I'm here."

I knocked and the same woman opened the gate. "Is Jolz here?" The woman replied, "Oh! JOLZ! I thought you said Jilz." (NO, I DID NOT!) I know I looked angry about that. Everyone at the party thought this was funny, but it was at my expense. I really wish I hadn't gone to that party.

But the biggest issue we faced was something that a lot of overweight people deal with when they're romantically involved with someone they're much larger than. Jolz enjoyed being with me at first, but I got the feeling that she was thinking, "Why is he with me? Why does he like me? Can't he see that I'm fat? This isn't normal. There must be something REALLY wrong with him!"

She never said this to me, and even though she had started losing weight, it appeared to be a major burden on her mind. She started acting less like a girlfriend and more like someone who was about to become an ex-girlfriend.

And that happened. More details tomorrow.

When I Seafood, I Eat It

You don't always think about all the work that goes into making a meal when you're enjoying it. You also don't wonder what your food is thinking before it gets cooked.



The bad thing is that I don't eat the whole crab. I only eat the legs.

Girlfriend #7: Jolz, Part 5

One day, Jolz asked me a question I never expected: "How would you feel if I told you I was going to lose a lot of weight really quickly?"

I asked what she was talking about. "I'm about to go through a procedure to have that done and I want to know if you'll still like me if I weighed a lot less." I told her that yes, I would still like her. I didn't consider myself a chubby chaser and that I liked her for the person she was, not her size. She asked, "Well, are you worried about it?" At this point, I thought she was talking about liposuction. "Why would I be worried? It's a low-risk procedure, right?" "NO! IT'S NOT! I COULD DIE!" Okay, now I'm worried. I asked her what the procedure was.

She said it going to be a divided gastric bypass. A surgeon would go in, cut her stomach in half and connect that to her intestines. It was rather risky, but the surgeon she was seeing had been successful at it. I'd never heard of that before. I told her I didn't think she needed to do sonething so drastic because she probably weighed 250 pounds. She said, "Oh, thank you. But I actually weigh a lot more than that." Up to this point, I had no clue what her weight was. But now I knew it sure wasn't 250 pounds.

She gave me some literature about the procedure. I read about the process and a lot of testimonials. She had been trying to do this for a few months and her insurance through work approved it. She was going to have to stay in the hospital to recover for a few days before going home. After that, she wouldn't be able to eat that much. We wouldn't be able to go out on dinner dates any more because her diet was going to be so restricted. She also warned me that she would have a large scar on the upper half of her body.

She asked me to go with her to a meeting with the bariatric team before she was scheduled to go to the hospital. There were about five other women in the group about to have their surgeries. Jolz was the only one in her 20s. Everyone else appeared to be in their 40s. Jolz was the only patient who had been accompanied by someone. Everyone else was there by themselves. During the times that the doctor and staff weren't in the room, the women swapped stories. They each talked about how hard it was to get approval for the surgery and that they each had to wait at least a year before they could get the surgery scheduled. Jolz said it hadn't been that difficult for her. When she started talking about this, I was thinking, "Shut up, shut up! They don't want to hear how easy it was for you!" Jolz probably got rapid approval because she was of child-bearing age.

After the meeting, Jolz had to meet with the nurse to go over some of the details prior to the operation. The nurse warned Jolz that she was going to be discussing how much she weighs and asked her if she still wanted me to be in the room. Jolz said it was okay. The nurse said she weighed 319 pounds. (Wow! I was WAY OFF!) It was anticipated that she would probably lose about 140 pounds over the course of several months. Jolz had already started making stride by cutting out soda. The nurse agreed that was a major step.

One of the things Jolz told me was that after the procedure, the doctor said she couldn't have sex for six months. That didn't really bother me. I figured it was for her own protection.

But she did something that really made me upset. She did her usual Friday night binge with her boss. We were going to have our last actual dinner date on Saturday night. At almost the last minute, she called me up and told me her boss wanted to do another binge one last time THAT night! I was SO upset. And she had planned to spend Sunday, the day before the procedure, with her family. I didn't have a problem with the Friday binge or the Sunday with her family, but I did not appreciate being denied my last chance to enjoy going out and eating with her.

The day of the operation, I helped her parents check her into the hospital. I went home while her parents awaited the outcome. She did fine. I went to the hospital a few times to visit her. Nothing really eventful took place during those visits. I was just being the supportive boyfriend.

What was interesting was that this all took place about a month before Carnie Wilson made news by having a divided gastric bypass. I rather liked that my girlfriend was ahead of the curve on this.

Girlfriend #7: Jolz, Part 4

I guess I'll just get this part out of the way first and avoid any suspense: Jolz and I did get to the point in which we were actually making love. But there wasn't anything dramatic about the first time, like her getting injured in an altercation beforehand or anything like that. We both knew it was leading to that and it happened. I will say that after Abed and I became roommates, I was the first one to get to "break in" the new apartment.

To my surprise, Jolz expressed an interest in going to see live music with me. I was still going to see several local San Diego singer-songwriters on a regular basis. I just figured she was only interested in country music, so I never considered asking her to go along with me. I mentioned that I was going to see someone I will refer to as Teacher at Brick by Brick. Jolz kept hinting that she wanted me to ask her to go with me. I did ask and she accepted. While Teacher and her husband played music in a pop/jazz vein, Jolz seemed to enjoy it and I got to introduce her to Teacher.

Once I mentioned to Jolz that Abed was going to play as part of an experimental music ensemble at the Casbah. The group consisted of six guitarists. It was organized by a musician I'll refer to as Marrad and included Hird. Jolz said she wanted to go check it out. I knew there was no way she was going to enjoy this performance. I tried to talk her out of it, but she insisted on going.

Before the show started, I took Jolz around to everyone, including Ferd, and introduced her as my girlfriend. She mentioned that I seemed to enjoy telling everyone we were a couple. I guess I did, but I'm pretty certain that behind my back, everyone was saying, "Dang! Fayd likes 'em LARGE!" But that really didn't matter to me. I was more concerned about how she was going to react after everyone got on stage and started playing.

The entire set was basically improvised. Jolz was next to me the entire time. She did not say a word, but she was clearly not enjoying this. However, she never once asked to leave. She stayed through the whole show. Yes, she was a trouper.

After we left the Casbah, she was ranting. "What the heck was that? I'm sitting there, waiting for them to start playing! It seemed like all they were doing was tuning their guitars! And after 15 minutes of that, they said they were going to play another song! Another song? I didn't know that first part was a song! THAT'S NOT MUSIC! IT'S NOISE! I'm thankful they didn't start singing because WHO KNOWS what that would have sounded like?"

I kept telling her that I tried to warn her. After that, she was very cynical anytime I invited her to go with me to experience live music. "It's not going to be like the Casbah, is it?"

Jolz would go with me to these local performances from time to time to hear music that was definitely more pleasing to her ear. There was a rather accomplished San Diego singer-songwriter I will refer to as Leed. I kept trying to get Jolz to go with me to see her. I think she was rather intimidated by Leed, even though she'd never met her. Leed had recently published a book and I had bought a copy. I saw Jolz looking at it when she was at my apartment. She was probably thinking, "This is someone who's had a book published. I can't meet this person. What would I say?"

She would always agree to go with me to see her, but then back out at the last second, claiming she wasn't feeling well or had a headache. Sometimes, this happened right after we made love. Well, you know that made me feel good.

And of course, you know she didn't care much for the music I composed. What kind of girlfriend was this?

But I was about to end up seeing less of her. More on that tomorrow.

Girlfriend #7: Jolz, Part 3

Now that Jolz and I were pretty much official, I had to meet her parents. I came over one evening before Jolz and I were going to go out to dinner. They were nice people and they didn't seem to mind that I was about 12 years older than their daughter. They were both also very overweight. (The whole family was like this, even Fand and Asd.)

While we were driving to the restaurant, Jolz asked me what kind of relationship I wanted. Did I want us to be committed boyfriend-girlfriend, or did I just want it to be sexual without the commitment? At this point, I hadn't had enough sex to separate it from how I felt about someone. I told her I wanted us to be boyfriend-girlfriend. "Okay, good!" I don't know what would have happened if I'd chosen the other option.

Jolz told me a few details about her life. Her boss at Volunteers of America was also her best friend. On Friday nights, she would hang out with her friend and her husband, get drunk and pig out. This meant we could only go out on Saturday nights. She obviously didn't want me ever seeing her do that. I can't say that I wanted to.

But fairly soon after that, there was a Friday night that she wasn't going to be spending with her boss. AND her parents were going to be out of town for the weekend. She invited me to come spend the night with her. I agreed. I was looking forward to this.

She had me come meet her at Volunteers of America that Friday. I arrived and she was coming out of the main office. It was payday and she was out in the common area counting her money. The first thought that entered my mind was, "Uh, this is the last place you want to be seen flashing your cash." But before I could speak, a resident came up to her and asked, "Hey, Jolz, can you loan me some money?" She replied sternly, "No, I can't!" "Why not?" "Because it's against the rules!" "Well, I never heard of that rule!" and the resident simply walked away. I had to admit that even though she brought that on herself, I admired the way she stood her ground and handled that situation.

After that, we drove to Hometown Buffet, where her brother and sisters were waiting for us. Before we went in, there was some kind of tense discussion in which Jolz accused her siblings of not liking me very much. I guess they all knew I was going to be spending the night and were giving her a hard time about it, but I had no idea any of this was going on. (And I assume they started feeling this way about me after they found out that I was more than ten years older than Jolz.) It didn't matter. I was still planning on spending the night.

After we went back to her house, it was nothing but mayhem. I guess they always acted like this when the parents were gone. At this point, I wasn't certain if Jolz and I were going to be sleeping in the same bed. I didn't even know if we were going to be able to sleep with all the ruckus. Eventually, everyone went to their bedrooms. Jolz and I stayed in her parents' waterbed.

We did not make love, but we did engage in activities of a sexual nature. We fell asleep in each others' arms. After a couple of hours, she heard something going on in the kitchen and went outside to investigate. She told me to stay in the room. I could hear her yelling at someone to leave. After a few minutes of talk, whoever it was finally left. She came back in and told me it was a friend of her brother's who wasn't allowed to be in the house.

Nothing else happened the rest of the night. I didn't realize this, but that would be the last time I would spend the night at her house.

Girlfriend #7: Jolz, Part 2

Jolz and I were going further down the path to courtship. After the first movie we went to, we talked on the phone a few times. We decided to go out on another date, but this time, it would be by ourselves. We decided to see "Shakespeare in Love." (For once, I picked an appropriate film to take a date to.)

We met outside the movie theatre in El Cajon. We sat in the back and held each other closely during the film. It was rather nice spending that kind of time with someone who liked me. After the film, we said goodbye and I gave her a quick peck on the lips. She seemed glad that happened.

We talked on the phone a couple of times the next few days. She said that we could see each other again on Friday. She was going to be taking some of the residents from the Volunteers of America facility (where she worked) to the rodeo in El Cajon. We could sit next to each other, but we couldn't act like it was a date. We couldn't hold hands or anything because she was supposed to be on the job. However, she said we would get to hang out after she got everyone back in one piece.

It had been a long time since I'd been to see a rodeo. My father and grandfather participated years before I was born. I was very familiar with the culture. The only difference was that it was hard for me to consider those who competed as real cowboys. Yes, they were athletic, but they never had to herd actual cattle in order to get food on the table.

I got to the arena and I found Jolz. She was sitting with Fand and Asd and six of the male residents. I sat next to Jolz. The residents all acted like they weren't 100% certain about what they were supposed to be doing. Jolz yelled at one of them to sit down and he tried to sit down right between Jolz and me. "No! Not here! Over there!" He wound up sitting next to Fand (who was sitting on my other side). Fand told us later that resident peed his pants while he was sitting next to her. I didn't notice anything had happened.

During the rodeo, Jolz admitted to Fand that there was a competitor there that she liked. He walked by us a couple of times and Jolz couldn't help but stare. Yeah, I have to admit he was rather handsome and he did look good in those jeans. But I didn't get jealous or anything. I honestly didn't mind. I knew he wouldn't be interested in Jolz and I'm certain she knew that, too.

After the rodeo was over, I walked behind Jolz and the residents as they went out to the van. After they all got inside, Jolz asked me to follow her to the other side of another vehicle, out of sight from the van. There, we gave each other a quick kiss. She told me to follow the van to the facility and then I could follow her to her house and we'd get to watch TV or something. I agreed and did as she said. I had to wait awhile at Volunteers of America as the residents went inside. Jolz and Fand had to make sure they got into their rooms before coming back out. Jolz, Fand and Asd all got in the same car and I followed them. I wondered if they were going to drop Fand off somewhere. But when Jolz parked the car in a driveway, all three got out and went inside. Was Fand going to be staying the night? Was she going to be like a third wheel or something? This didn't seem promising.

This was the first time I'd been to Jolz' house. When I went in, I looked around the living room. I saw pictures of her family, including her other brother, Asd and FAND!FAND WAS HER YOUNGER SISTER! You'd think she would have introduced her as her sister, but apparently, she also worked at Volunteers of America. I guess that never occurred to her. I never mentioned that oversight to her.

This was good news. (Even better news was the fact that her parents were in bed, so I didn't have to meet them.) Fand and Asd went straight to bed. Jolz changed into her pajamas and came out into the living room. They had a lot of VHS tapes. I guess she picked out a movie she thought I'd like and put it in. It was "Much Ado About Nothing." Yeah, I liked that, but I had seen it before. I was just hoping we'd be able to work our way to a makeout session after her sisters had gone to bed.

And that's exactly what happened. It was official. I now had a girlfriend.

One of life's loud moments

Sometimes, cars can make strange noises while waiting for the light to turn green.



I just hope it doesn't completely rattle off in the middle of the street.

Girlfriend #7: Jolz, Part 1

Now that my self-esteem had been boosted with the purchased of a new car, I was ready to hunt for my next girlfriend. This would be the first time I would enter the dating world with short hair. I would find out soon enough if it would make a difference.

Since I seemed to have more success getting women who placed ads in the Penny Saver to call me back, I figured that was the best route to go (especially considering that was how I got my last girlfriend). I found an ad for a 23-year-old woman. I called her voice mail. Her name was Jolz. Her outgoing message said a little bit about her, but she added, "One thing I need to let you know is that I'm really fat!" I had responded to other ads in which the woman claimed to be fat, but was actually about 30 pounds overweight. I figured this was another case of a woman exaggerating her size.

A day later, Jolz called me back. I didn't ask anything about her weight and she didn't bring it up during the conversation. She described herself as having red hair. She worked for Volunteers of America in a residential facility for people going through rehab. She said she was into "Star Trek" and country music. "Star Trek" was cool and I could tolerate country music. After we talked awhile, we decided to meet. We made plans to show up at the Family Fun Center in El Cajon.

I arrived at the location and looked around, but I couldn't find her. I figured I got there before she did. I then saw some people come in. Among them was a red-haired woman and she was REALLY OVERWEIGHT! SHE WASN'T KIDDING! She and two other people with her walked right by me without noticing me. I have to admit, my first instinct was telling me to RUN! However, before I could do anything, a man in the entourage (who was just as overweight as she was) turned around and saw me. He said, "Hey, is your name Fayd?" I said, "Yeah, I'm Fayd." He pointed Jolz toward me. The man was her older brother Resd. The other person in the entourage was her 10-year-old sister Asd.

Jolz and I got a soda, sat down and talked. I could tell that she was afraid I wasn't going to like her because of her size. I continued to have a normal conversation with her, like we did on the phone. She lightened up after awhile and we both began to feel more comfortable. Asd came over and sat with us for a little bit. I told Jolz I would call her in the near future and we could try to go out and do something.

I pondered what I wanted to do. I'd never dated anyone THAT overweight before. At the same time, I knew what it was like to be constantly rejected. I never knew for certain why I was always rejected, but she knew why, every single time. I kind of felt sorry for her. I had to admit that she was actually rather pretty. I just had to look past her size. Would I be able to do that?

I decided to give her another shot. I called her up. She sounded excited to hear from me again. I asked her if she wanted to go do something. She said that she was going to go to the movies with some people from work. She invited me to meet up with her at the AMC Mission Valley. They were going to go see "10 Things I Hate about You." It wasn't really a movie I had much interest in seeing, but the movie theatre wasn't very far away, and she offered to pay. I decided to go.

I got there and found her, Asd and another woman waiting in line for tickets. She introduced me to the woman, whose name was Fand, whom I assumed was a co-worker. Jolz paid for the tickets. We bought some popcorn and soda and went into the auditorium.

During the film (which I liked much more than I expected), I contemplated what was going to happen. One thing I knew was that she was someone I would never get married to. If I started something up, it definitely was not going to be long-term. I wondered if I should wait for something better to come along. I had responded to other ads, but no one else had called me back. This was really all I had going right now. I hadn't been involved with someone for almost a year and a half. Did I want to wait longer? I could only assume that she was interested. After all, she did invite me and offer to pay for the movie. I decided to go for it.

I reached over and started holding her hand. She didn't do anything like push it away. I was now officially heading down the path of romance, but it was in a location I had never been to before.

Rid and the Railroad

One Sunday morning in 1999, I got a call from Rid's wife. She told me that Rid was going to be in Los Angeles that day. He had been working on the American Orient Express. He did general maintenance on the interior of the cars. (Not the train engine.) She said the train was going to have a day-long stop at Union Station and I should be able to hang out with him for a little while.

Since I wasn't working that day and didn't have anything planned, it was easy for me to just up and drive to LA. (This was one of the nice things about having a working automobile.)

She told me that all I needed to do was ask someone where the American Orient Express was and they'd tell me where it was located on the tracks. I got to Union Station and asked ten different people about the train. Not one person knew anything about it.

Walking around, I noticed a 15-year-old boy wearing a Dead Kennedys t-shirt, but I didn't think much about it. I was trying to concentrate of finding Rid. I walked outside where the tracks were and I saw the American Orient Express there. I stood on the other side of the gate from the tracks. I didn't see Rid anywhere. I went back inside to where people disembark and saw Rid coming down the hallway. He was glad to see me.

He took me on a tour of the train. Most of the rooms for regular passengers were rather small. The area where the employees bunked was even smaller. But on a train, you spend most of your time in the passenger car and not in your room. He had to do a couple of things and then we would be able to hang out. He asked some of the other employees if they wanted to go out. One person wanted to come along. He was a mostly clean-cut guy (his hair was a little long and curly) about 23 years old. He wore glasses. I'll call him Nurd.

Rid and Nurd got in my car. I asked Rid where he wanted to go. He suggested the Santa Monica Pier. I'd never been there before, so this seemed like a plan. We arrived and started walking around. I saw a 15-year-old boy wearing a Dead Kennedys t-shirt. I could swear it was the same person I saw earlier. I wished I had asked him if he'd been at Union Station that day, but I kept my mouth shut.

We walked around the pier for a little bit. Then we went to a cafe. We sat outside in the patio area. Rid and Nurd ordered beers. While we were sitting outside eating and drinking, a woman came outside to smoke a cigarette. She had long blonde hair and appeared to be in her mid-30s. She was attractive, but wasn't someone I would have normally taken notice of. Somehow, Rid was able to rope her into a conversation. She stayed seated where she was smoking, but she remained actively engaged in talking to Rid.

She was in from out of town for some kind of business conference. She was there at the cafe with a friend who lived in LA. She had come outside to smoke. She and Rid talked for about a half-hour before she decided to go back inside and sit with her friend. Rid, Nurd and I decided to walk around the pier some more. Before we left, Rid went back into the cafe and found the woman so that he could give her some more information on one of the topics they had discussed. It was about someone she could contact. I noticed that her friend was this guy about her age. He was clean-cut and pleasant-looking. While Rid and the woman talked, I could see the guy giving Rid REALLY dirty looks. Nurd apparently saw this, too. When we went outside, Nurd said, "Aw, man! That guy looked like he wanted to kick your butt!" Rid said, "No, there shouldn't have been a problem. She said he was just a friend." I said, "Oh, no! I don't think he sees it that way!" "SHE SAID HE WAS JUST A FRIEND!"

I suddenly realized that Rid has probably never been in the Friend Zone. Nurd and I obviously had been, but Rid hadn't. In fact, Rid was the type of guy who put women in the Friend Zone (and the Ring Zone). This meant there was no way he could relate to that guy's dilemma. But I was able to tell exactly what happened: That guy was hoping this would be the opportunity to become romantically involved with that woman. They arranged to meet at the pier and eat. After getting seated and ordering food, she decided to go outside and smoke. He probably said, "I'll come outside with you." "Oh, no! I'll only be a couple of minutes. You stay here and save the table." She then wound up talking to Rid for a half hour. When she went back in to sit down, she was all like, "Oooh, I just met this guy outside. He was kind of cool!" (Even though Rid was married and wore a ring, this was not brought up in the conversation.) I could see her friend thinking, "DAMN! I knew I should have insisted on going out there with her! Now, nothing's going to happen!" And when Rid actually came to the table, that just made things worse. He probably thought, "What? She's all excited about this fat guy?"

But we never encountered them again. After walking around, Rid and Nurd decided to go back to the cafe and drink more beer. Like, three more tall glasses each. I've been around Rid when he's been drinking. He remains the same person when he's inebriated. But Nurd transformed into a mean drunk. Rid and Nurd had told me what time they needed to get back to the train. I mentioned what time it was and how long we needed to get them back. Nurd suddenly started yelling at me and accusing me of trying to end their fun because I didn't like him. Rid was able to keep a cap on him and we eventually left.

They were both very nervous while we were driving back to the train. There were rules against being drunk on the job and they both hoped that no one would notice. We wound up arriving after 15 minutes after they were supposed to report back to work. I guess everything worked out okay.

I would see Rid again a few months later when I drove to Denver on my next vacation. He never worked on the train again.

A new car, Part 3

One of the great things about getting a new car is showing it off to all your friends. One of the interesting things about the Daewoo Lanos I got is that it's the only time I've ever had a model year to coincide with what year it really was. It was a 1999 model and this was 1999. I hadn't even owned a car that was made in the same decade since my first car in 1979. (The Pontiac LeMans Sport was a 1972 model).

With my previous car, I spent a lot of time at the mechanic's. There was an auto shop called Miguel's in the Golden Hill area of San Diego. Any time I needed some simple repairs, I would go there because they were a lot less expensive than most other shops in town. A friend of mine named Gleez lived nearby and she would often see me waiting for the bus after I'd dropped off the car there.

After getting the new car, I went to a party that she happened to be at. She saw me and asked, "So, Fayd, have you been to Miguel's lately?" She added a little laugh. I said, "Well..." Then she said, "OH, MY GOD! YOU GOT A NEW CAR!" "Why, yes, I did!" "OH, MY GOD! LET ME SEE IT!"

I was parked just outside the house and took her to it. She gasped when she saw it. She swooned over how nice the interior looked. I swear that she was more excited about the car than I was, almost like she had won it on a game show.

I also drove to Downtown San Diego, where Promotee had a regular weekly gig at a restaurant/club. She and Promoter came out to see it. They were also excited about it. (I should add that they once gave me a ride home after one of the shows a few weeks prior.)

I also called up Thoz. I hadn't talked to her in about six months, since my car started acting up. At the time I last had contact with her, she had just met some guy and was starting a relationship. When I called, she sounded excited to hear from me. I asked her if I could come see her. I had something to show her.

I showed up at her apartment. She was surprised to see me with my new haircut. I asked her to come outside because I wanted to show her my new car. While we walked to where I parked, she told me that she was still seeing the same guy from six months prior and she thought it was going to lead to marriage. I was happy for her.

She was impressed with the car. I asked her if she wanted to go for a ride. She said no, she was cooking something and her boyfriend probably wouldn't like that, which was fine. I didn't realize it, but that would be the last time I would see Thoz. But we still remain in contact through Facebook.

One night, Abed and I went to see one of Ferd's music projects playing at Java Joe's in Ocean Beach. Somehow, I had managed to snag one of the two parking spots right out in front. After the performance, I showed Ferd the car. He said he had been outside and seen it earlier. He thought at the time it was a really nice-looking car, but he had NO IDEA it was mine. He was impressed!

In yesterday's post, I mentioned how I was going to drive to New Mexico and surprise my parents with the car. I didn't get to do that. About a month after I bought the car, Mom called me up and ask if I'd gotten a new car. I confirmed it, but asked her how she found out about that. She said Dad learned about it from the credit union. I wondered why the credit union told him. Mom later complained to the credit union about it and was initially told that Dad had to co-sign the loan. Then, the credit union president said it was a mistake and that he hadn't co-signed it. It turned out that Dad happened to be at the credit union the day everything was going through and he saw the paperwork. This means when I called him to see if he would be home a particular weekend and he asked me about my car, he already knew I'd purchased a new one. When I talked to him, he said he was proud that I was able to do that without any assistance from him.

I now need to address the fact that I bought a Daewoo. Yes, it has a reputation as being a terrible car, but I found that was not the case with mine. It appears that the 1999 models were very well-built. I drove mine for 9 1/2 years before I had to sell it. I had very few problems during that time. The worst things that happened (aside from accidents) were that the water pump went out, I had to replace the catalytic converter when it didn't pass the smog test and the "Check Engine" light would start flashing if I went over 70 mph. I was able to get all of those fixed.

People I know who bought the 2000 and later models were the ones who suffered the majority of the issues associated with Daewoos. I was very glad that I got on the ground floor. I also got to use all of the warranty-based service while the dealership was in operation. After I hit 36,000 miles, the dealership closed and the service center got sent out to two different locations in San Diego before permanently closing. When I moved to San Jose, that service center remained open until 2008. The last time I got my oil changed there, I was told I would have to buy and bring in the filter myself.

It was very hard for me to give up my car, but I have to admit it was slowly falling apart. The paneling that covered the window on the rear driver's side door started breaking off, which meant that you could hear the wind coming in the window whenever you drove on the highway. I also did an emissions test before I sold it and it barely passed. Another couple of months, I would have had to get the catalytic converter replaced again, and that almost didn't happen the last time because the shop had to find the parts through junkyards.

The good thing about the bad reputation Daewoos received was that I never feared that someone would steal my car.

A new car, Part 2

In Thursday's post, I discussed going through a lot of trouble getting a new car. Those troubles continued up to the point that I got to drive the car off the lot.

On Monday, I went back to the Daewoo dealership to see the other slightly used cars. They had a red sedan with 7,000 miles on it and a green hatchback with 6,000. The sedan (a Lanos) was about $500 less than the hatchback, so I said that would be the one I would buy. I didn't get to test drive it. I gave them the contact information for the credit union. They called them and said that things were getting in order for me to buy the car. I would still have to wait one more day for all the paperwork to go through. GRRR!

They gave me the information on the car and told me to go buy insurance for it. There was an independent insurance broker that I had been using for the past couple of years. I went to them to get insurance. They told me that they couldn't insure a new car unless I brought it to them. Then the manager explained something to me. The dealerships will do something they refer to as "the stunner." They'll tell you that you cannot drive the car off the lot unless you have insurance, and you're going to have to buy their insurance, which has considerably higher premiums than the average insurance company. The manager said that if the salesman drives the car to the insurance broker, he is covered by the dealership's insurance. I would need him to drive me there.

On Tuesday, I went back and I did not even give the salesman an opportunity to pull "the stunner." I told him the insurance broker told me to have him drive me there with the car. He didn't argue with me. We drove to the broker and got the insurance policy. The agent took a polaroid of the car and then I got to drive it back to the dealership. This was the first time I'd actually gotten to drive the car.

It had been almost 15 years since I had been with my parents to get a new car at a dealership. I'd forgotten all the stuff Mom and Dad had to go through before we could drive the new car. We had to spend HOURS just waiting, WAITING for everything to finalize and we could go home. ALL THOSE MEMORIES CAME BACK THAT DAY! I normally went home after work and took a nap, but I had gone straight to the dealership that day. I was so exhausted. (And it didn't help that we had to drive to get the insurance, which took about an hour to do.) And there were so many forms I had to sign. And I was trading in my old car, so there were even more forms for that.

Finally, everything was completed. They handed me the keys and I was free to go. The thrill of owning a new car gave way to a feeling of relief that it was all over and done with. I got in the car and was on my way.

The first place I drove to was Fraz' apartment. She was actually excited about the new car and we went for a little drive. When I came home, I was able to show it to Abed. I was really tired, so I told him I wasn't in any condition to go driving that night, but promised him a ride the next day. I did follow through on that.

Through all of this, I never told my parents what I had been up to. I was hoping I'd be able to take a weekend off, drive to New Mexico and surprise them with the car. Abed was going to go with me so I could drop him off in Tularosa. I called Dad to see if he was going to be home. He asked me about my car situation. I told him I had gotten it fixed and everything was fine. I called Mom. She said she was going to be out of town that weekend. This meant that our plans to go to New Mexico were being scrapped. Abed and I decided to go to San Francisco instead. There wasn't really a lot to write about in our adventures, but we did stay with Soulster at his apartment in Oakland while we were there.

(But I should add that during that road trip, I sort of turned into my parents after getting the new car. Before we left San Diego, we were running behind and Abed needed to get something to eat. I got mad because I didn't want him eating in my new car!)

And I had some other positive reactions to the car. Those will be the topic of tomorrow's article.

Apink for another year!

A couple of months ago, I reported a dilemma in which I was having trouble finding a 2018 Apink calendar. I decided to buy their official "Seasons Greetings" calendar for the first time. This was what I got:



After recording the video above, I found a couple of interesting aspects about the contents that I thought were worth sharing:



My Apink calendar videos get the most views on my YouTube channel. That's the reason why I do them. (In fact, one I did for a 2017 calendar more than a year ago has recently passed 1,000 views!)

A new car, Part 1

By February of 1999, I had paid off the loan that I used to finance my CD release. I thought about taking out another loan from the credit union to produce another one. However, there were some things I needed to take care of now that I had an extra $300 every month that I could use.

I needed to get my car fixed. For the previous six months, my car, a 1978 Chevy Citation, would not start. I didn't even bother to renew the registration or pay the lower-costing Planned Non-Operation fee. The time had expired for that. I needed to replace the starter on my engine and get it smog checked. The "Check Engine" light was on, and I knew I wouldn't be able to get it checked without getting that fixed as well.

After I had the starter replaced, I went and had the oil changed. I also paid to have some of the other fluids flushed out. Before I planned to completely fix it and pay for the registration, I drove it for a day. I was so glad to have a car again.

However, Abed and I were going to go to an event at the Casbah and my car started having the exact same trouble starting as before. It was going to start then, but I recognized it would eventually reach the point when it wouldn't anymore. I got instantly depressed and didn't feel like going to the Casbah. Abed called Hird to come pick him up so he could go.

I just sat there. Everything I had planned for depended on the car working like it did before. The CD release, going to the clubs, trips out of town, etc. were no longer in my grasp. I was at odds at what I was going to do.

I saw a news report about a new car dealership in Mission Valley. It was for Daewoo, a Korean car and electronics company. They had an interesting marketing plan in which they got college students to drive the cars around and promote them. If a student got someone to come in and buy a car at the dealership, he would get a commission on the sale. In addition, at the end of the program, the student would be able to buy a brand new car at half price.

I liked the idea of getting on the ground floor of something new. That Saturday, I drove my car over to the dealership. I met a salesman. He had been in the car sales business for more than twenty years. I don't remember how the conversation got steered this way, but he showed me some of the "slightly used" Daewoo cars they had on the lot. He didn't tell me this, but I knew that these were the cars that had been driven by the college students. He showed me a green-colored sedan with an automatic transmission that was selling for about $9,000. I remember that it didn't have automatic windows. I got to test drive that. We discussed financing. He said they would be able to accept my car as a trade-in, but I wouldn't get more than $500 for it. I couldn't argue with that.

However, he told me that he used to sell the Chevy Citations, like the one I owned. He said there was a factory defect that may have led to the problem I was experiencing, and I may be able to take it to the Chevy dealership and get it fixed for free. If that was the case, I wouldn't need to buy the car. The Chevy dealership was nearby, so I drove over there to arrange to have them diagnose the problem and see if it was something they were going to have to fix without me having to pay for it. However, I still had to pay $60 for them to look at it. The dealership kept it for the weekend and told me they would call me on Monday.

When they called back, they confirmed it was not a factory defect and would cost at least $900 to fix. I told him not to fix it and I would be by to pick it up.

After getting the car, I stopped by the Daewoo dealership and found the salesman. I told him I wanted to buy that car that I had test-driven. A big smile came on his face. I knew I would be able to get a loan through the credit union. However, there was one problem. This was the middle of March. The credit union was tied to school hours and this was Spring Break. They would be closed for the entire week. I would not be able to arrange financing through them. The sales man said it wasn't a problem. I could finance through their bank and then have the credit union pay them off.

(As it turned out, I wasn't the only one inconvenienced by Spring Break in Artesia that year. My step-brother Tad also needed a loan that very same week and got very upset that he was going to have to wait. Since then, the credit union separated from the school and now runs like a real financial institution.)

I had only declared bankruptcy less than five years earlier. I was aware that this was going to reflect on my credit report. The salesman said it shouldn't really be a problem. However, it was. I was initially declined. He and a manager said they would try everything to put it through since I obviously had the right income level and had recently paid off a loan. But it did mean I wasn't going to be driving that car home that day. I was disappointed.

They had told me to keep checking back to see if there was any change. I kept calling back the next few days and they kept assuring me they would hold onto that car for me. On Friday, the salesman called and said they had sold that car. They had other cars available close to the same price, but they were all standard transmission.

During that weekend, I walked by a Mitsubishi dealership and saw that they had new cars for about $1500 more than the Daewoo I was looking at. I didn't like the box shape they were known for. I mean, I knew they were good cars, but I preferred the smooth styling of the Daewoo. I would only get a Mitsubishi if all else failed.

And it almost did. More on that on Monday.

Apartments #11 & 12: 3064 & 3068 Adams Ave., San Diego CA 1999 - 2002

I lived at the two addresses above. 3064 was a two-bedroom apartment I shared with Abed until September of 2000. 3068 was a one-bedroom where I lived by myself until December 2001. At that point, I had lost my job and had to move back in with Abed and his wife Qued. All three of us moved out of the apartment in March of 2002 into two separate residences.

Abed and I had anticipated moving out of the cottage before January of 1999. However, for the first time since I'd moved to San Diego, I was having a LOT of trouble trying to find a new apartment. It was a landlord's market at the time and every place we went to had dozens of applicants.

Originally, Abed wanted to rent a house. He wanted to be able to be in a situation in which he could play his guitar without disturbing neighbors. But all the houses for rent would have one really good bedroom and one cruddy bedroom. They weren't worth living in. We did manage to find a two bedroom/two bath townhouse apartment that was the end unit. This was something Abed was a little more comfortable with. We were able to apply and were being strongly considered.

However, Abed suddenly lost his job at Peet's Coffeehouse. This forced us to look at lower-priced apartments. I found one great place that was two bedroom/two bathroom in our new price range. Abed and I rushed down to the property management company, paid $15 cash each for them to run a credit check and got receipts. (And this was a separate issue: Almost every place we went to expected us to pay for the credit checks. It was like, if we were going to get to move, we probably weren't going to have enough for the deposit because we were shelling out so much for the credit checks.)

So, we waited to hear back about that apartment. After two weeks, we didn't hear anything and it was almost the end of December. I had to call my current properly management company to get a two-week extension on my notice. Fortunately, they agreed and asked me to pay two weeks' rent. That wasn't a problem, but we were still facing a rapidly-approaching deadline.

I then found a property management company on Adams Ave. (which was just a few blocks away from the cottage). I got a copy of their listings and saw a two-bedroom/one bath apartment for $550 a month. And it happened to be right next door. The company was closed at the time (but had listings outside). I was able to open the gate and find the apartment. I looked in the window and saw that it was decent and was probably the best place we would be able to get. I told Abed about it. He said he would go over the next day and get a better look.

He was able to go into the apartment. He liked that it was at the end and the bedrooms didn't share a wall with other units. This meant he could play his guitar. But they already had someone expressing an interest. They were just waiting for the results of the credit check. However, they gave him credit applications and asked him to call the next day to see if the current applicants had been approved. They also required money for the credit check. We filled out the applications that night and had the money ready.

The next morning, I went to work. He called the company and they said the current applicant had been denied. He immediately grabbed the applications and the cash and RAN all the way to the company to turn them in. We now had a lock on the apartment while they were running our credit reports. At the end of the day, we got good news. We would be able to move into the apartment before we needed to be out of the cottage.

But we still had one unresolved issue: The last management company in which we paid for a credit check. I was perplexed by this. When my Dad owned apartments, he couldn't stand if a unit was vacant for more than one month. He would lose revenue. I didn't know why the property management company was allowing that unit to remain unoccupied when they obviously had people who wanted to rent it. Since they never got back to us, I thought we should pay them a visit with our receipts to see if we could get our money back.

We arrived and told someone why we were there. He told us the applications were in the other room and we could try to find ours. (I guess he was busy with something more pressing.) So we had access to all these applications they hadn't called out on. We managed to find ours and they still had our $15 cash payments clipped to them. We just took the applications and our cash and left. (I don't recall if the other applications had cash attached to them, but we were not thieves.) I couldn't believe that we managed to get refunds that easily. (I'll bet we would have been scrutinized if that guy hadn't been tied up with something else at the time.)

We were able to move in and we didn't have any more trouble after that.

A Drastic Change in Style, Part 2

A couple of months before I went to see my parents for Thanksgiving in 1998, Perd decided to leave San Diego and go back to New Mexico after his wife Bird abandoned him. He was limited in terms of what he could bring home, so he gave me two large boxes of clothes and his bass guitar to hold on to. At the time, I thought I was going to be driving to New Mexico for Thanksgiving, so it wasn't going to be a problem for me to transport those items.

However, I started having some major car trouble and knew I wasn't going to be able to drive out. I was going to have to fly to New Mexico. I figured I would just ship the clothes to him. However, I opened the boxes and found that he put wet clothes in before handing them over to me. After a month of being in the boxes, mold had formed on the clothes. I knew there was no way I'd be able to send mold through the mail. I took it upon myself to wash and dry the clothes. He was lucky I had just gotten paid, but it cost more than $50 to wash and ship the clothes.

I was going to have to check the guitar on the plane to transport it. At this point, Abed had moved in with me. Abed got curious about Perd's bass and decided to play around with. Somehow, he messed it up. I was in a quandary. I didn't like the idea of Perd having enough faith in me to trust me with his instrument and I actually considered making him think that it got damaged on the plane. But I thought better of it and decided to take my lumps because he would have just gotten mad that I hadn't taken it on the plane with me.

When I called him, it turned out it was already broken. He was going to fix it when he got it back. Well, that was good. He gave me the address to bring it to when I was in Roswell. He was living on Eyman Street at the time, which was located on the old Air Force Base. He gave me directions on how to find it.

The day after I arrived in Artesia, my Mom drove me to Fort Sumner so I could go see Grandma Bend before Thanksgiving. We would be able to stop by and see Perd. I let him know the night before about what time to expect us. He was waiting by the side of the road. He was surprised to see my new look. We didn't really talk much. I just gave him the guitar and went on my way.

(I would see Perd a year later when I came back to New Mexico. He was giving with a new girlfriend, but he wasn't working. I didn't have any more contact with him until a few months ago, when I found him on Facebook (under a different name). I sent him a friend request and he accepted. But we still haven't had any real contact, aside from liking each others' posts from time to time. He may be with the same woman I met in 1999. He's still active in music and has a band that releases new material and shoots videos. It looks like everyone is having a blast.)

I don't remember much about the 1998 visit with Grandma Bend. I know we had lunch, but it wasn't special, aside from her seeing the new me. On the way back, Mom needed to stop by Roswell and see someone. She was assisting with a foster agency and there was a little girl she needed to check on. She called and got the address where she was located. It happened to be Eyman Street (but a different address from where Perd was). She was glad we already knew the location. When she went in, the little girl was scared and hid, even though my Mom had brought a little present for her. Mom just had to make sure everything was good at the house and left. I didn't get to go in.

I spent Thanksgiving Day at Dad's house. Gred's son Tad was there. The times I had seen him before, he didn't have much to say to me. But we actually communicated extensively for the first time. I was surprised. However, I'm certain it had to do with the fact that my hair was now shorter than his. His mother always told me about he was buying all those hair growth formulas and putting them on his head because his hairline was irreversibly receding.

This was also the Thanksgiving vacation in which I went to see Orld. He was drunk and couldn't stop talking about the fact that I'd shaved my head. I got mad about it and decided not to see him anymore. He tried to connect with me at my Dad's funeral in October of 2016. He came up to me and paid his respects to my father. He asked how he could get a hold of me. I told him we were staying at La Quinta Inn in Artesia. He could try to call me there. However, we had the phone in the room unplugged because my son had a tendency to play with it. Before we left the hotel, I plugged the phone back in. From what I could tell, there was no indication that any messages had been left. I don't know if he tried to call and decided to not leave a message.

There wasn't anything notable about the remainder of my vacation. I returned to San Diego and started living life as a new person with a different haircut. I got a lot of shocked looks from my friends who had never seen me with short hair in the seven years that I'd lived there.

And while I had planned to start growing it out again after I reached 40, that never happened. By that time, I was romantically involved with someone who didn't find guys with long hair attractive. This truly was the end of an era.

A Drastic Change in Style, Part 1

I lived by myself for most of 1998. During this time, my best friend Abed was living in Los Angeles. I got to go up and see him a couple of times. He booked a solo show at a restaurant/club called "Lumpy Gravy." He was supposed to be the opening act, but the headliner canceled. That meant he was the main act. It was nice to see that happen. I told Chud, my best friend from college, that I was going to be in LA and he should come by and see the show. He actually showed up and got to meet Abed for the first time.

Toward the end of October, Abed moved back to San Diego. We decided to be roommates. The plan was that we would live together at the cottage for a couple of months, then we would find a two-bedroom apartment together. This arrangement worked out very well financially for the early part because we were both only paying about $200 a month in rent. This would allow us to save money for a deposit on a new place.

Less than a month after Abed moved in, I was about to take a vacation to New Mexico for Thanksgiving. Up to this point, I had gone seven years without cutting my hair. In addition to having a few follicles ripped out of my skull, I had a lot of split ends and my hair would stretch when I tried to comb it. I knew that wasn't good. And it went back and forth every day between looking good and looking like my hair was thinning. I decided to try to do something about it.

I had been planning to shave myself bald and start it all over for the longest time. The only thing keeping me from doing it was that I thought that I had badly damaged my scalp with all sorts of scrapes, bumps, bruises (not to mention acne), and that time I got the head of a nail stuck in my scalp. (I've never written about that.) But I figured that if it really looked bad, I could wear a cap until it grew back out.

I figured that the best time to shave my head would be the day before I was set to fly to New Mexico. Abed had an electric shaver he allowed me to use. I couldn't believe it when I actually started putting the razor against my head and could feel the hair being removed. I left maybe a quarter-inch later of hair on my head. Abed helped do some touch up on the areas I couldn't see very well. After it was done, I looked at myself in the mirror. I was pleasantly surprised. There didn't seem to be any obvious problems with my scalp. It looked much better than I was expecting.

One thing I needed to do after shaving my head was shave my face. At this time, I only shaved once every three weeks. Abed said that without the hair on my head, it looked like I had an actual beard. It felt good to be clean-shaven.

I still had to go to work the next day before I left town. Everyone was shocked when they saw me. When I went outside, I felt something for the first time in seven years: The sun on the back of my neck. Even though it was November, it felt REALLY warm. I didn't know if I would get used to it.

I flew from San Diego to El Paso. My Dad was going to pick me up. I saw him waiting in the lobby area. He glanced my way, but continued to wait. I walked straight up to him. It took him a little bit, but he realized it was me. Dad really seemed to like the new me.

After we got home, I went over to Mom's house without telling her I was coming over. I rang the doorbell. She opened the door, saw me and then slammed the door in my face. She REALLY wasn't expecting to see me like that! Mom was also surprised how good it looked.

And they weren't the only people who got to see the new me on that trip. I'll go into more detail tomorrow.

"I, Tonya" - My Perspective

I recently saw the movie "I, Tonya" and it brought back a lot of memories for me. I recall that I had an obsession with her that I now realize was likely Asperger-based. When this happens, I can never adequately explain why I may feel so strongly about someone or something, so this results in a lot of people, including my friends, questioning my behavior (at least to themselves).

It all started in January of 1994. After Nancy Kerrigan was attacked, there was a lot of news coverage. I watched much of it because I was working for News Monitoring Services at the time. The fingers of the media started pointing at Tonya Harding almost immediately. This was actually the first time I had heard of either one of them. (I was so engorged in my position at the Hillcrest Cinemas that I didn't even pay attention to the 1992 Winter Olympics until the closing ceremony. My roommate at the time, Ped, had been watching and was talking to a friend on the phone regarding a comment by an announcer saying, "We'll see you in two years!" He was trying to explain that the Winter Olympics would happen again in 1994 and we would no longer have the Summer and Winter games during the same year. I think it took his friend two years to catch on.)

I didn't know what to think about Tonya Harding. I was fairly certain that she had something to do with the attack, but after learning so much about her in such a short amount of time, I couldn't help but identify with her. As I've covered in this blog before, I certainly felt like other people were purposely going out of their way to keep me from succeeding and for no other reason than they just didn't like me.

But more than anything else, I wanted to see if I could get an autographed photo of Tonya Harding.

However, I had no idea how to accomplish this. One day, one of the newscasts I was monitoring had an interview with a woman with the initals "ES." She was identified as being with the Tonya Harding Fan Club. I figured that a fan club would probably be the best way I could get my hands on an autographed photo. I wrote down the woman's name. I took a chance and called Directory Assistance in Portland, OR. I gave the name of the woman. I was given a phone number for someone with that name in a smaller town outside Portland. I called it. I got an answering machine that started, "You have reached the phone number for ES and the Tonya Harding Fan Club." The rest of the outgoing message described the information you needed to leave on the machine in order to get details about the club sent to you. I remember that when I left my message, I was on the verge of cracking up because this was really happening and I was really doing this. I wondered if they could tell I was restraining my laughter and were not going to send me anything. (No doubt other people left nasty messages.)

A few days later, a letter arrived in the mail. I could get a one year membership for $10. In return, I would get a membership card, the Fan Club newsletter and a Tonya Harding pin. But it didn't say anything about being able to order other merchandise. I decided this was still the best path to getting that autographed photo. I sent off a money order for the $10 and got my card, pin and newsletter about a week later. I was ecstatic! The card had the Fan Club President's name stamped on, but everything else was hand-written.

(I should point out that I've decided not to use the Fan Club President's actual name in this article. But it is rather easy to find out who it was.)

I got all of this before the Winter Olympics. There was so drama going on, you couldn't keep track of what was going on at any given moment. There were reports that she was being cut from the Olympic team, reports that she was going to go after all, reports that she could get pulled from the team even while the Olympics were going on. I was getting emotionally invested in this, more than I ever would have believed.

I found out what happened in the final showdown before it aired on TV because of me doing my job and it being discussed on the noon newscasts. I still watched it and it was rather heartbreaking to see what happened. I was still a fan.

The next Fan Club newsletter that came out gave me exactly what I was looking for: An opportunity to buy an autographed photo. (I guess Tonya had plenty of time on her hands to sign photos for her fans.) I sent in the order form with a $20 money order. It took more than a month, BUT I GOT THE PHOTO! However, I could not tell 100% if she had signed it or if the signature was just printed on. (And even worse, with the busy background, you can't tell right away that it's autographed.) I still treasured it.

In addition, the newsletter included a poem by ES titled, "Tonya's New Day." It was basically about remaining optimistic in the face of adversity. I was inspired to use the poem as a basis for lyrics for music I had written. I recorded the song in the studio and sent a copy to ES. I did credit the song as being based on her poem. She never really responded to me directly, but she did mention me and the song in the next newsletter and included some of the lyrics. She also included my address in the event someone wanted to purchase a copy of the song, which was on my cassette release. No one ever ordered it. I wasn't surprised.

The Fan Club planned an event that would feature an opportunity to meet Tonya Harding. A special dinner was held in Portland. Even though I had a full-time job, I was struggling at the time (and barely squeaking by to purchase the Fan Club membership and autographed photo). This meant I couldn't go. But all of the Fan Club members were invited to send some kind words on 3" x 5" cards to express good feelings and they would be collected in a book to be given to her. I wrote a short poem titled, "The Lease." I later wrote music for the words and recorded the song for my CD release. This means I wrote and published TWO SONGS about Tonya Harding. You can't get any more fanboy than that.

After the event, I got ANOTHER autographed photo of her. And this time, I could definitely tell that it had an actual signature on it! (Whether or not it was her signature is up for debate.) I didn't have to pay extra for that.

Soon after that event, the Fan Club disbanded. (This means it expired before the date on my card.) Tonya decided to start her own Fan Club that she would be in charge of. Even though I joined that one, it just wasn't the same. I had come to acknowledge that she likely had a greater role in the attack than she was willing to admit.

Since then, I would see her pop up on TV from time to time. I watched the "reunion" between her and Nancy Kerrigan. I watched the "Celebrity Boxing." But I didn't see her promote the book in which she stated she was brutalized by Gillooly into keeping her mouth shut. Loyd had to tell me about that.

So now, with "I, Tonya," it's kind of cool to like her again. It doesn't justify what happened, but I don't feel like I have to keep this phase of my life secret anymore (because I certainly made no mention of it on my blog until now). However, it's still not something I'm going to tell new people about myself.

In the video embedded below, I give a couple of my initial reactions to seeing the movie. There was a lot more I wanted to say, but I didn't think anyone would pay attention to me for more than a couple of minutes. I do go into greater detail in my video description.

But do you want to know what the really weird thing is? (And I just found this out!) She gave birth to a boy about seven years ago. Her son's first name is the same as my real first name.

From Studio to Stage

In the middle of 1998, Abed was invited to record one of his songs for a compilation CD to be released by a San Diego independent label that promoted alternative and experimental music. The label owner paid for the studio time. Abed was going to get to do a full production of the song, including drums and other instruments. He asked me to provide piano and background vocal tracks. I was excited about the prospect of contributing to a CD release that people were actually going to hear.

Abed had one eight-hour session booked at the studio. We were basically tasked with getting the entire song recorded in one day. In addition to Abed and myself, Abed's sister performed with him on backing vocals, his brother-in-law played bass and the label owner Ferd played drums. This was the first time I had met Ferd. I had seen him playing drums with other local acts, like Appalachian. I didn't know that he had his own label. There were other artists associated with the label there as well, some of whom were going to have contributions on the CD release.

The guitar and drum tracks were recorded first. Abed sang live while he was playing, but recorded a complete vocal later. His brother-in-law recorded the bass section in the control room.

Then it was my turn. I had figured out a piano part to play underneath a sustained note that Abed held. Afterward, I had three tracks to do backing vocals on. I recorded them in the same manner in which I'd done on my CD release. I recorded a guide for each part, then I would sing with the guide. The other artists didn't think I knew what I was doing, but they were surprised when the completed parts all came together.

A few months later in October, Abed had moved in with me. We had to prepare for the CD release show, which was going to be at the Casbah. Abed was going to do a half-hour set. Other artists on the release would also do their own sets. We were going to get to perform as a full band, with his brother-in-law and Ferd. I also performed pieces on the bells, a small xylophone-type instrument. We did several rehearsals at the label's office/practice space. We were going to have a really tight set and we were excited about the upcoming performance.

The night of the CD release (December 1st), all of the featured artists showed up to perform their sets. (There were seven of us. Hird was among the acts.) In order for us to quickly segue from one act to the next, everyone had their instruments on stage and plugged into the sound system. Mics were set up, including one for the bells. We all did sound checks.

There was an order that had been pre-determined. We were the fifth act to take the stage. However, the fourth act was this one guy who had several keyboards. Toward the end of his set, he pulled an "Andy Kaufman." He put all of his keyboards on "drone" mode, got up, went into the audience and had a casual conversation with a friend of his. This meant that the instruments were playing themselves while he continued his conversation. After a few minutes, we wondered if he was going to turn off his keyboards. He made no indication he was going to get back up on stage. He just kept talking to his friend.

Abed, Ferd and I went up on stage so we could start setting up our instruments. Suddenly, keyboard guy starts yelling, "Hey! What are you doing? I'm not done yet." Abed yelled back, "Then get up here and finish already!" "I'll finish when I'm ready!" And he tried to get back to his conversation. Ferd made a circular motion with his finger and the Casbah's sound guy turned down the volume on the keyboards. Amongst ourselves, Abed and I said, "Yeah! Now, you're finished!" We got off the stage so he could turn off his equipment. He took his time doing that.

Our set went very well, just like we practiced it. I don't remember any major flaws. Afterward, a couple of friends came up to me and said, "Wow! That was great! You're really good on the xylophone." I responded, "I've been playing keyboards for 20 years. I only started playing the bells two weeks ago and you think that's what I'm good at?"

The rest of the night went smoothly. At the end, we each had to go on stage to retrieve our equipment. Only a few people could be onstage at a time, so Abed and I had to wait until some of the others had cleared their stuff. After I had put my keyboard in my carrying case, I realized that my patch cords were missing. Somehow, I figured out that Hird had taken them. "Oh, I'm sorry! I must have grabbed them by mistake!" I didn't accuse him of taking them on purpose, but he knew had been caught.

Unfortunately, that incident caused me to lose track of the bells. A few months later, when we were preparing for another show, we figured out that they were missing. Since they weren't mine and I didn't bring them, I wasn't held responsible for them disappearing. (And I don't think Hird took them.) But I'm pretty sure Ferd was a little miffed at me for that.

But Abed and I got to do several more performances that were showcases for the label, including the Christmas shows in 1999 and 2000. It appeared to be an annual tradition.

But we never got to appear on another compilation.