"Jane"

"Desert View" by Layla Edwards
"Jane"
Friday June 24 2005

Jane Pollack's birthday was yesterday. You remember for a long time the birthday of your best friend when you are little girl. She was year behind me in school cause cut off date was April 30th and I was born at start of April, Jane was born 2 and half months later on June 23rd. I had an earlier best friend, Debbie Bernstein before I started school, when we still lived in Manhattan. But that is further away in my mind. I see the passionate little girls arrive with their moms at the pool and their passionate friends, and their new baby brother just born, and how the whole world revolves around Madeline, Madeline is one of the little girls, and I know that was me back in the days when Debbie was my best friend. It is the world before school, you spend much more time with your mother.


By the time of Jane I was in 3rd grade, Jane was in 2nd grade, and we were best friends. She lived in the apartment above mine. I was in 3F and she was in 4F. It would take a writer with far more talent than I have to do justice to Jane because there is nothing to say about her. She is the salt of the earth and she is bland. It may have to do with times. Maybe there is a time from ages 8 to 12 when your whole focus is on your skills, your games. Jane and I played with each other but what we played were games. We played Jacks with each other, we played cards with each other, we played board games with each other, and outside we played in groups. We played chinese handball, regular handball, punch ball, stickball, and jump rope, also Potsy and Girls and Boys. Also Jane and I did things together. We traveled by train to Rochester to visit my grandfather. We traveled by subway to lower east side to take modern dance classes. We traveled by bus to Jamaica to take ballet. We went to the movies together. We rode our bikes together along with two other girls. We took the subway to her dad's office on Fulton Street where he sold jewelry. We went to Woolworth’s together for sodas. And had lunch at the Woolworth’s in Jamaica. We were together a lot. And the friendship lasted till I was about 15 because I remember Jane looking out my window when my cousin Richie arrived for Thanksgiving when I was 14 and saying “your cousin Richie is good looking.” He had just bloomed into his good looks as I had bloomed into mine. And I was in high school then. And the June before high school when I was 14 and few months, Jane and I were together in my room when Jane espied my date arriving to take me to the prom. So we did continue to hang out together even when the time of games was over.


But she was central in my life during the time of games. Every Friday night when her dad returned home from the city he bought Jane a new board game, and we played with them. That is how I discovered “Go To The Head Of The Class” a game I loved. Also Jane taught me “Candyland,” a board game she had already had. The only board game I had was “Monopoly” but Jane also had wonderful game, “Chutes and Ladders.” O I also had “Clue” but Jane had all the games. “Chutes and Ladders” was a lot of fun and I think there was a game called “Sorry” too. We played board games until we both discovered Jacks. Then all we played was Jacks. But somehow there was always a lot of cards. Jane and I learned cards tricks together and played them. We played “Double Solitaire.” Jane taught me “Knucks.” I guess our big game was “Rummy” which we played endlessly. If Myrna and Carol were also there we played Poker. Jane and I were well matched, we competed.


In June they put up the sprinklers in the kiddie playground behind our building, the playground we all played in, and Jane and I got into our bathing suits and went under it. Also when Jane's parents took Jane and Amy, her little sister, to visit their friends or relatives on Long Island who had a sprinkler, I was invited to go under their sprinkler too. And when my parents took me and Danny, my kid brother, to Jones Beach, Jane was invited to go into the ocean too. I remember Jane being with me at Jones beach because after we had finished swimming and wanted to go back in the water Jane and I both went in in our underpants, that was fun. And amazingly one summer, while we were up in the Adirondacks, Jane's family came and spent a week on 4th Lake. It was a country club at Rocky Point, but I guess they rented a cabin. I remember being excited when we got in the car to drive Route 28, a winding road thru the mountains to 4th Lake, and I could see Jane. I had my own friends in the mountains. But returning back to NYC and seeing my NYC friends was always big thrill at first. I would get out of the car and rush to Jane's apartment. And Jane's mother, Ray, would water my mother's plants for us when we were gone.



On the other side of the building was Sheila and Jane and Sheila were also best friends, and Ray was best friends with Sheila's mother Frieda. I really have no idea how Jane and Sheila played together, they seemed so different to me. I would play with Sheila after school cause she and I were in the same class and our way of playing was so different than what I did with Jane. We didn't play games. Sheila introduced me to her books. She had the “Honeybunch” books and then the “Bobsey Twins” books and I borrowed all of them from her. Then we would watch “Hit Parade.” Sheila introduced me to “Hit Parade.” And Sheila had sheet music. These were the songs which were on Hit Parade. It had the words and I guess the notes. Sheila would sing “Dance With Me, Henry” and I would sing along with her. In Sheila's room we would play “school.’ Sheila never played outside with us. She didn't join us for chinese handball or punch ball or jump rope. Sheila did not have a bicycle, she did not learn how to roller skate. That was another big thing Jane and I did. We roller skated at the school playground, or around the buildings, and thru the drive ways. We got my mother to take us to the rink, where we ice skated and roller skated both. So it's a mystery to me what Jane did when she went over to Sheila's room to play. Altho when we were all in the playground and the mothers were sitting on the benches we heard Sheila screech out the window “Jane is eating raw hamburger meat.” I guess Sheila was telling her mother this. Jane always liked to eat and so did I. We spent a lot of time eating together.


Jane had TV before we did so we spent a lot of time also on the living room rug in front of her TV. That was how I discovered “Father Knows Best.” Jane discovered it and I watched it there. It was thrilling at first. I watched it with her every week.


I watched TV with Sheila at Sheila's house too but the programs she liked were grown-up shows. We would watch Sid Caesar and Imogene Coca. At Jane's house we watched Superman.



In the dining car on the way to Rochester Jane and I ordered a jelly omelet. It was the first time I ever tasted that, I liked it. And when we got to Rochester we turned on my grandpa's TV and watched “Kukla, Fran and Ollie,” I had never seen that either. When someone is your companion in play you mainly remember them at play, not that much catches your notice about them. I noticed when my dad gave us arithmetic problems to solve in the car as game when he was driving us somewhere, Jane was very good at arithmetic, even better than me. And I was surprised when I learned “Knucks” from Jane because it is cruel game, Jane was never cruel. And I remember the smell of her father's garage, when we would go over there to unlock it so Jane could get her bike. My bike was in the bike room downstairs of our building.



All I can think is Jane must have been incredibly easy going if we never once conflicted, or rubbed against each other. Her habits were different from mine. When I got something new to wear I wore it right away but Jane liked to save it in its original plastic and keep it in her drawer and show it to me in her drawer. As soon as I saw her pretty new sweater sets in plastic in her drawer I wanted that too. I was the same as my dog now is about his bone. As soon as I give him one he rushes into yard to bury it, but then he wants one to eat also. I wanted to wear my new clothes and save them all pristine in my drawer too.



I got to see Sheila once when she blossomed into lovely young woman. I was coming home on bus when I was half way thru college, or perhaps it was only my 2nd year, and to my astonishment the glamorous girl with all the make-up on and looking very pretty was Sheila. She told me she was secretary in Manhattan and I was astounded at her salary. Sheila was very smart, smarter than me. We had been in the accelerated class together in junior high but I could not keep up and Sheila had no problem.



I guess I played more in Jane's house than she did in mine because she had the board games, she had the TV. We did play Jacks on the linoleum in my foyer, but we played a great great great deal of Jacks in her bathroom. Her apartment had wall-to-wall carpet everywhere except in kitchen and bathroom, so we squeezed into that tiny bathroom, just enuf room for two little girls to squeeze, next to the clothes hamper under sink, and played endless Jacks there. We learned how to do Backsies there and how to do Fancies, Cherry-in-the-basket and Jack-be-nimble. And of course endless card games on the rug. For “Double Solitaire” it's possible we needed two decks of cards.



She had a cousin Harriet who was a few years older than us, who lived in Building 5, and sometimes we would visit her cousin Harriet and her cousin Harriet would come over. And of course half the time Myrna and Carol joined us for play, there were 4 of us playing Jacks on my mom's foyer linoleum, or 4 of us playing Poker at Carol's dinette table. Myrna and I did conflict, there were fights, and then Myrna would put a note in the empty milk bottle outside my door saying “let's make up” and we would. That is why I don't understand, in all our furious competition, all our games, all our closeness, all our long afternoons together, how it is possible we never conflicted. Not about Jane, who could conflict with her? She was perfectly easy-going nice girl. But look at me. But maybe just as Jane and I were perfectly matched in every single game we played, I guess it's possible we were perfectly matched as friends too. She had that warm easy-going nature, in astrology she is probably Taurus, that lovely sweetness of a cow, akin to placid. Jane was unruffled and unruffleable. And she was rooted as a tree. She never objected to me. Because altho I never attempted to budge Jane, I am sure she would have been unbudgeable. So even tho all our games were outdoor games of action or indoor games of mental or physical concentration, it's like those lovely fields you pass in New York State, the contentment of the cows outside, and deep shelter shade trees over them. For 3 and a half years I spent all my free time with Jane, or most of it, playing with Jane, and it was an instant which stretched into eternity. Because Jane provided the sweet cowy contentment and the sheltering shade of tree. We lived in apartment building projects surrounded by more apartment building projects somewhere out in Queens. Both our dads worked in Manhattan. But for Jane, who was daughter of Mother Earth herself, extended all the sweet graciousness of our lovely Planet to us. All that is sweet and warm and nurturing came from Jane. It was blessed friendship.

Teaching Sophia email and remembering Alfredo Leonardi

Tucson painting by Felix Pasilis

Friday May 20 2005 Tucson AZ

I had a great time helping Sophia yesterday. We had fun. She picked me up exactly on time and the ride there was enjoyable and fast. Her sweet dog was there to greet us. I sat down in chair in computer room, and Sophia brought in from the car the plastic bag containing the items she had just bought herself at Value Village that morning.

First she tried on the jacket, it was champagne silk and fitted her perfectly. Either it was brand new or had just been dry cleaned, it was exquisite. It was 3 dollars but today is half price day. “$1.50!” she exclaimed with huge glee.

The blue cotton blouse was also lovely. It was the shade of blue of the sky and a very nice cotton. Like what you'd wear on a yacht. This had been two dollars but at half price was one dollar. Sophia was ecstatic about the blouse and the price.

The two white tops were lovely too. One was simple but elegant white cotton pullover sweater. The other was elegant white sweatshirt for walking Seema on winter mornings when it is cold. “50 cents each” Sophia announced with joy. “I will take you to Value Village” she said. “I don't have very much money to live on” Sophia said, “I like Value Village.”

We had talked about money in the car on way over. She said she appreciated me helping her because she doesn't have the $35 or $40 to pay someone to do what I do. When we sat down at the computer Sophia said she has a perfect life but she doesn't have enough money, all she wants is more money.

“Me too” I said, “I want more money. I am playing the lottery.”

Sophia got very excited. “It is 17 million now, I will buy 5 tickets.”

I said “I buy 4 tickets each week.”

She said “if either of us wins let's split it, half for you half for me.”

And I said “Great! Sophia, we double our chances.”

This time Sophia was in charge of the whole lesson which went so well, she knew exactly what she wanted. First we went to email and she said “I will write an email, I will write to Bal.”

This is the guy she is in love with. She remembered perfectly how to do it. She got out her pad and paper and wrote “I was happy to hear your voice this morning, it brought me big joy, I would love to see you now.” Something along these lines, more mushy. It was a love letter. “Love, Sophia.”

After Bal she did not know who to write to. First she said “I will write to Mark,” that is her son, then she changed her mind. Then she said “I know who I will write to” and she looked all over the kitchen for the address and could not find it.

We tried spell-check on her letter to Bal so she could learn spell-check. I was totally shocked at AOL spell-check. This letter only had 18 words in it. But they picked up every time she had left two spaces between a word and also there were a lot of punctuation errors. The only spelling they picked up was the spelling of his name and her name, which of course she spelled right.

So then Sophia decided I should teach her internet. She had used the word internet interchangeably before for everything, which had thrown me off. She used the word internet when she meant computer. “Teach me internet” she had originally said, when she meant teach me the computer. Then “teach me internet” she said when she meant email. But I think this time she actually meant internet.

I couldn't figure out on the AOL browser how to get into internet, so I just had her type google on top of the page we were in, and google showed up. So then I knew my way around. I said “ok Sophia let's pretend we wanted to find out about the Racquet Club.” The Racquet Club is the club Sophia and I both belong to and where we met.

“You type in 'Tucson Racquet Club' and we will see it.” Neither of us knew how to spell racquet. Sophia wrote it down on her pad, and I said “I think there is a 'c' in there, let's try it.”

In the course of doing this Sophia learned how to go forward to next page and back to previous page. We found Racquet Club and she read off all about our club.

Then I said “let's look up the guy I was friends with before I met Bill, he was Italian from Rome who was a film director, if we can find his email on google I can write an email to him asking if he will read your screenplay.”

Sophia was totally into this and so was I. So I wrote down his name on her pad for her to type in, Alfredo Leonardi, and we googled it. There seemed to be a lot of movies directed by Alfredo Leonardi and starring Marco Leonardi, who I figured was the little boy, his son, when his wife came at the end of his visit to NYC and they went back to Rome together. Finally one of the entries was for a film collective in SoHo in Manhattan which lists Alfred Leonardo movies to buy and the film collective had an email.

So I said “OK finally an email address, I will write to them and ask them to forward it to Alfredo Leonardo.” “Great” Sophia said. So she got up and I sat down in her computer chair. And I composed my email outloud as I was writing it. At the top I wrote “will you kindly forward this email to Alfredo Leonardi since we were old friends.”

Then I wrote, “Dear Alfredo, do you remember me” and I wrote my maiden name. And I said how I had stayed in the same apartment in the East Village in Manhattan where he had visited me for very long time till I moved to Tucson Arizona. That I met my husband a year after he returned to Rome. That I remembered the nice times we had, going to the beach together, and when I jumped out of the canoe.

I said how my friend Sophia wrote a screenplay and is he willing to read it. Would he send it to another director if it is not for him. And I gave my own email address cause I said I am on Sophia's computer. And would he write back and say hi to me because it would be fun for us to say hi again. And I sent my love to his wife and son.

Both Sophia and I were delighted with my email. I changed the font to make it prettier and then I did spell-check which picked up one mistake. I had said “I am no longer wild but I am not conventional.” And I had put two “i's” in wild. So spell-check corrected that. I showed Sophia how spell-check takes out the misspelled word and replaces it with the rightly spelled word, she was impressed.

We were both satisfied with my letter. “I hope the gallery sends it to him” Sophia said. “I hope so too” I said. And Sophia was lost in awe at what internet could do. She saw with her own two eyes here was someone I knew in the '60s and because of internet I was able to write an email to him. I even think we might have found his own real email if Sophia had had the patience to press all the different entries for him. But this was a start, even if the email doesn't get to him, Sophia got an idea of what internet can do, which was the point of the lesson.

And of course it was tremendous fun for me to be writing to my old friend Alfredo Leonardi. We had been best friends, I have total warmth for him, and I never would have emailed him except for Sophia wanting someone in the film industry to read her screenplay.

I am curious if Alfredo will write back. I have never kept track of the boys who walked in and out of my life before I met Bill. At the time of course I was involved with the boys I had crushes on, and the boys who were just my best friends I didn't think so much about. But now I don't remember so well the boys I had crushes on and I remember perfectly the ones who were just my best friends, because those are the ones I shared my life with.

Alfredo and I hit it off right from the start because we were so relaxed with each other. He wasn't at all what I expected when Anna from Rome, who I had met the week before in the laundromat and who invited me to a party at her apartment that evening, said she had given my phone number to her friend Alfredo, who was film director from Rome.

This was the time of Marcello Mastroianni, Michelangelo Antonioni, etc. I thought I was being fixed up on a blind date with Marcello Mastroianni. I guess he must have met me at school where I taught and then we walked over to a luncheonette nearby for our date. And he was not one bit like an Italian movie star. He was very diminutive to start off, and he strikes me now as looking English somehow with his rolled-up black umbrella as he waited for me. I guess he wore dapper clothes too.

But since he didn't look like a movie star and I was not attracted to him I relaxed instantly. And for some odd reason that I can't explain we totally hit it off in the luncheonette on Grand Street. It was an orthodox Jewish neighborhood, the neighborhood was like my Jewish neighborhood back in Queens except they were all orthodox. I guess it was a good setting for me to relax in.

And all I can say is from that moment till he left for Rome, or to be more exact when his wife and little boy arrived at the end of his NYC sojourn, Alfredo and I were inseparable.

What I did was take Alfredo with me to everything I did in my life, except go to work. He couldn't come to women's liberation meetings with me because those were all women, but I took him to everything else, and I guess we had our meals together in the restaurant on Avenue A too.

When I went to the beach on long Island on weekends with Helen and my girlfriends I took Alfredo. His bathing suit totally embarrassed me. He wore a teeny weenie white bikini men’s bathing suit. I didn't say a word but Alfredo looked around Jones Beach and said “I see I am the only one wearing a bathing suit like this.” “Yes!” I said pointedly.

When Marilyn called up me and Helen to invite us to the week-end conference for socialist Jews at a bungalow colony in the Catskills, I invited Alfredo. I have no idea what Marilyn's group was all about. We went to the meetings and there were big fights. But I had only wanted to spend a weekend in the country. That is when Helen and me and Alfredo paddled in the canoe and smoked pot and I got stoned, took off my clothes, and swam naked to shore.

I alluded to this in the email I wrote him from Sophia's computer yesterday, since he had told me next morning it had made a big impression on him. I thought what made a big impression on him was my adventurous act of jumping out of canoe and swimming to shore. But when he detailed the big impression, it wasn't about what I had done, it was about me naked. Because we were just best friends and not boyfriend and girlfriend, I had not let him finish telling me how much he had enjoyed that.

But when I was writing a “remember-me” email all those years later, I figured that would reawaken his memory if he forgot me.

The last time I saw Alfredo was at Lynn's party. His wife and little son were there, and his wife was blond and pretty and wore wrap-around skirt and was very interested in women's liberation. She was a very nice girl. Alfredo and I really were two ships which pass in the night. It was easy come, easy go. He waltzed into my life so easily, he waltzed out of it so easily. It never occurred to me to try to hold on to the friendship.

In fact I never gave him a thought after he left till I was writing a story about my days with Helen in women's liberation, and I remembered how Alfredo, me, and Helen had gone to that conference at the bungalow colony, and that brought back my time with Alfredo to my mind.

And I remembered him again when Sophia said she is looking for someone in the film industry. And I thought I know an Italian film director....

I was helped by my friends

by Ronnie DeNota
Riomar Cafe on Little West 12th Street, NYC, 1998

“Gurus and Companions”

Saturday, January, 7, 2006

Today is Jeannie’s birthday. Helen’s birthday was last week, Cora’s birthday is next week. And my 3 friends named Sue have their birthdays at this time. Sue my friend at college, Sue who used to talk on phone about astrology with me back in NYC, and Sue at the swimming pool who got me back into writing. My Moon is in this astrological sign. These women have been paths for me. Cora opened up the greatest path for me, love and spirituality. And Helen took me further along that path. Jeannie taught me women’s liberation and art. My friend Sue in college taught me intelligence. You could say they were all my gurus, they were my teachers.

The teaching styles were very different. Cora arrived at my apt. every evening, sat at my kitchen table while I made her coffee, and asked for my advice and told me all her problems. No one had ever asked for my advice before. I was famous for being an idiot, a chicken without a head. People would say “I worry about you, Anne.”

Everyone saw me as a mess. But not Cora. We'd have coffee, she’d settle down happily and tell me the long stories of her problems. At that time she was still trying to hold a job, so most of it had to do with jobs. She was a waitress at Wall St. lunch counter when she accidentally dropped the piece of luscious chocolate cake the man had been eyeing on his lap. She was in the typing pool when the women kindly and gently and lovingly took her aside and explained she has to be fired because she arrived 3 hours late at work every day.

In Cora’s world everyone was an angel. She saw everyone thru a loving empathetic lens. She had such sympathy for her landlord, Mr. Kessler. Each month Cora would arrive with five dollars to pay down on the rent she owed from 4 months ago, until Mr. Kessler couldn’t take it anymore, and said “Cora let’s start from scratch.” Mr. Kessler was a saint to put up with this the whole time Cora lived there. She did not get evicted until the neighborhood changed and landlords were offered big money for their tenements. As Cora explained to me, “having another de-rent controlled apt. sweetened the deal.” Cora was evicted from her rent controlled apt. where her rent was only $70 per month. She was 6 months behind at that point.

Because Key Food closed at 9 PM, at few minutes to 9 she would put on her coat and all her scarves, and say “thank you dear sweet Anne” and look at me with face of such love, and try to get to Key Food in time to bang on the doors and get them to open for her. “Is there anything you want at Key Food she would ask?” So sometimes she would return with something I needed.

Compared to Cora the official story that Anne is such a mess I realized was not quite true. I was able to keep my job. I was able to pay my rent. I paid my electricity too. When we had the big black out, Cora was reading by a candle. She looked outside when she heard all the noise and saw the streetlights were out. “Why are they making such a fuss about the streetlights being out,” she thought, and went back to reading by her candle. She didn’t know electricity had gone off for the city.

But what I learned from Cora was everything. I learned from Cora that all people are angels and I am an angel too. Before that I thought all people were monsters and I was a monster too. I had no idea you could see people thru the eyes of peaceful love, and as a result see yourself that way too. Cora used to refer to herself that way. She would refer to her own sweetness. And I, who had always hated myself, was floored that Cora loved herself. And she saw me thru such loving appreciative eyes. I began to see myself that way too. You could say Cora liberated me. She did.

Cora was a good antidote for me for my friendship with Jeannie which had preceded it. What ruined that friendship was my intense envy. At first I just whole-heartedly admired Jeannie and I expressed all my admiration. I was happy admiring her and expressing it and she was happy to be admired. But then she wrote a book it got published she became famous, and I became very envious of her. Before she wrote her book she had been a painter. It was my first introduction to the world of art, and to the life of a working artist. It caused a great switch in values for me. I had never considered anything other than the professions before. In fact I was school teacher during our friendship. Jeannie was quite contemptuous of the professions. “Women are always shoved into the helping professions” she announced at a women’s liberation meeting.

In our personal friendship I saw how much art gave her. For Jeannie art gave her everything. “An artist’s childhood is their treasure chest” she told me, “it is what the artist draws from.” Because of Jeannie I wanted to become a writer, I wanted it with all my heart. And it had never occurred to me to want it before. It had not even occurred to me I could do it before. I thought you had to have talent. But Jeannie had said “the best painter in art school said ‘there is no such thing as talent.’” She said the other girls in art school made their own clothes, did crafts, and did other things. “They spread themselves too thin” Jeannie told me, “you have to just do your painting in order to be good at it.”

Helen was my friend when my big troubles arrived. She taught me that prayer works, and also she got me to consider Jesus which is why I opened up the New Testament and read “The Gospel of St John” when I was so frightened my beloved dog would not make it. The spiritual path I am on now came from Helen.

But I would never have been open-minded to spirituality at all were it not for Cora. Cora’s solution when things got very bad, which they always did, was to pray. That is how she balanced herself. She had a moment when the landlord had evicted her and all her stuff was on the street, when she lost her balance. But she prayed to Mary, and she regot her balance. Mostly Cora prayed to God, she said “the Father is stronger than the Son” but at times of extreme crisis, and her whole life was crisis, she would remember her mother’s words about Mary and ask Mary for help.

I, who never had any balance, watched Cora hold on to her balance no matter what was thrown at her. And finally asked “How do you pray Cora? Do you just ask God for what you want?” “No Anne” she said “you thank God for already giving it to you.” I didn’t begin to pray till my time of great troubles arrived and Helen said “prayer works.” But it is from praying that I first found out God is real. Everything else stemmed from that. I would be totally desperate and then I would remember about praying. And at first I would think “what good will praying do? I won’t believe God is real till He sits down next to me and smokes a cigarette with me.” But I was so desperate I would pray anyway. And always to my amazement I would find I was calmed down from it.

Irene was my companion during my great travails. She was born in October, she wasn’t one of my teachers like the other girls. We learned from each other. Our friendship consisted of communication. We would share experiences and see what we learned from it. We were partners learning spirituality together. We had the same problems at the same time and we learned from each other.

Gurus matter but so do learning partners. You learn from gurus from the examples they set. I learned from Cora from Jeannie from Helen by watching them. Irene is how I learned from my own experience. You have to have someone to share your experience with to make it real.

My last friend before I left NYC was Marjorie. We would walk our dogs together, or she and I and my dog would walk to Delancy Street for her to place her bet at OTB. Her husband Joe did not follow the horses but Marjorie said he had genius with numbers. She would place the bet for him, and they would always win. I did not know about the winning. Finally after doing it for months, walking with her to Delancy Street, I said “why do you bet Marjorie?” She said “people assume betting means you lose money but Joe wins.” It never occurred to me anyone ever wins, I thought betting was way to lose money. You could say Marjorie taught me about gambling.

I’m trying to think what I learned from Marjorie and it doesn’t seem like very much. Once I wore a black T shirt and she said “you look good in black Anne.” Mostly I loved Marjorie because I loved being with her. I just found everything she said interesting. We both took out lots of library books. She said “it is the women in the Agatha Christie mysteries who are so interesting.” She read books about everyone, rock stars, everyone. She said “I am like Joe Friday, ‘just give me the facts, Ma’am.’” She read a biography of Jim Morrison of “The Doors” and talked about it a lot, so I read it too.

Marjorie was a painter too. “What do you paint Marjorie?” “I just paint paintings of people committing suicide” she said. Marjorie had tried to commit suicide. She went to flea bitten hotel and took pills. But Joe, who was her boyfriend then, found her and took her to Bellevue and had her stomach pumped. He saved her. Marjorie used to say “I don’t know what to do with the rest of my life, I never expected to live past 30.” Marjorie and I were both working as part time secretaries for psychiatrists. Marjorie said “I see the patients when they walk in, they are so upset, and then I see them when they leave, they are so calmed down.” She had so much respect for the psychiatrist she worked for.

Marjorie cared passionately about the Mets and the Yankees. She would listen to the games on the radio as she painted. In some way Marjorie is the most like Bill, not only because they are passionate sports fans, but because from each of them I got to be in another world. Marjorie was born in July, she is not the same astrological sign as my gurus, and she was not a guru, she was a friend.

Our friendship fulfilled itself after I moved to Tucson. I would write to Marjorie but she never wrote back. Finally after a few years she wanted to argue with an astrological insight I had sent her. “I don’t know how to write a letter” she said “I never wrote one before, but I will try to do what you do,” and she wrote back. By then I was totally with my Higher Self so I would write her my experiences with my Higher Self. And after a few months of this, Marjorie connected to her Higher Self too. So we shared our experiences with our Higher Self. We wrote to each other every single day for 6 solid years, sharing our daily life and our experiences with our Higher Self. We each knew every single detail of each others daily life.

And then Helen taught me how to be on internet and I never wrote another letter again. I always hoped Marjorie would understand. I guess I thought she would, because what I learned from Marjorie was understanding.

"Momentous Decisions"

"Gypsy Dancer" by Layla Edwards

"Momentous Decisions"
written Saturday October 14 2006
Huge cloud cover. Like a giant bowl. At rim you can see a little turquoise blue peeking thru, as if the cloud cover bowl is slightly too small for all of sky. Cloud cover is grey. It is not like yesterday where the white cottony clouds against the blue sky massed so much the Sun didn’t shine thru. This is bona fide cloudy day. One huge massive grey water-filled cloud is covering the whole sky in all directions.

O first bird just arrived. Tucson birds are not early risers. They chirp at break of dawn but sure take their time leaving the nest. O he is pecking at the stale english muffins I threw into yard. Now his friend arrived also pecking at the english muffin. O now another one, two of them, are pecking at it. First one flew off with fat crumb, second one flew off with fat crumb. O the morning dove arrived and chased the sparrow off the english muffin.

The light is growing a little brighter. Even tho there is tremendous cloud cover, the rising Sun is still bringing more illumination.

The man of the house arose. This is early arising time for him. The basset hound put in her first appearance. She slept like a log on my feather quilt all night. She didn’t open her eyes when I got up.

O the Sun has peeped out somewhere from the huge grey cloud. I see it shining against Caren’s shed to the west. And the sunlight is now dappling the leaves in my yard. Hahaha I guess the cloud cover does not extend far enough to cover where the Sun is now, that it rose above the mountains. There are contrasts now in the sky. The deep dark grey of cloud cover-- and trees lit up, illuminated in light, against backdrop of the dark grey. Of course the Sun and the light will win. In Tucson the light always wins. Our Sun cannot be stopped. It doesn’t matter how thick, dark, grey, the cloud cover is, the Sun will shine it away. The mighty monarch has arisen.

Many people are sent here to the land of the Sun, after they have done battle with light and dark back in the Northeast. By that point they are under guidance of their Higher Self and are moved to Tucson. I thought I was the only one, but back in the days when Access TV Tucson had more spirit shows, and people came on to tell their story, I discovered I was not unique. A dark haired woman from Long Island told her story. The details did not match mine. She had been successful business woman and owner of a few companies on Long Island. Her siege of troubles were in a different department of life than mine. She too eventually turned to her Higher Self for guidance. And upshot was her Higher Self had her and her husband move to Tucson too. Hahaha we are the new immigrants to this sun drenched, highly lit-up, part of the world. We were drawn here by the light.

Altho not everyone follows the same path. Ronna Harris was in San Diego channeling Archangel Michael and he had her move from San Diego to Reno. When you line up with spirit a big move occurs. Your new spirit-directed life takes place in another location.

You start fresh. In that sense you know a few things. You know how you got here, it was suggested by spirit. And you know where you are, a place of more light. And that is enough to take you out of the world. Your new life in the new place is organized by spirit and moves fast. You live in the apartments for 11 months and spirit says “buy a house.” You look at 3 houses and spirit says “buy that one.” And month later you are living in your own house. One year after spirit first suggested you leave NYC and move to Tucson, you are living in big comfortable house in Tucson with huge yard. You have gone from a tiny tenement walk-up in inner city, to big house huge yard in Tucson Arizona in the Southwest USA.

And in the exact middle of that year you are guided by spirit to find the books which will change your life. Because, as much courage as it took to leave all that was familiar in NYC to move to totally unfamiliar unknown Tucson-- it requires far more courage, and is a far more radical move, to give up all your engrained beliefs, and accept brand new diametrically opposite ones. To change how you see reality. To accept that whatever you believed was real before, is unreal. And what you believed was not real, is real. This decision is more life changing than moving to Tucson.

Yes being asked to decide to move to Tucson is scary. I was only able to do it by not wrapping my mind around it. I could decide to do it and I could do the move, but I could not think about it. It took 8 months for the shock to wear off, for me to be able to say to myself “I left New York City, I moved to Tucson.” Before that I could not think about the magnitude of what I had done.

Deciding to believe an opposite belief system is not heart thumping scary like that. And you can’t do it with your eyes closed. It is not like moving to Tucson, which turned out to just be action and no thought was required. Here no action is required. Merely a decision in the mind. But it is a big decision and hard decision. Because, according to the belief system you are being asked to give up-- the new belief system you are asked to accept, is insanity. You are being asked to believe something, which up until this moment you considered insane. In fact you still do believe it is insane.

Yes you have now been logically convinced into it. Your old belief system no longer holds logical water, the new belief system presented to you does. But beliefs take place at a level far deeper than convincing logic offered to your mind in a book does.

In some ways it is like standing at a precipice and told to jump off. Like the decision to move to Tucson, the decision only took 5 minutes to make. In both cases I knew it was do or die decision. In both cases it meant my whole life. And in both cases I did it. And in both cases instantly I made the decision, I was on the other side. And knew it was exactly right decision. That whole new wonderful life and what I always wanted, now stretched out ahead of me.

I had made right decisions. There never was any looking back. There was just joy that I had traveled far enough to be presented with that decision. And was on the other shore where new adventure in life began.

"The Carburetor Story"

"GERONIMO" by Layla Edwards


Saturday January 6 2007 “The Carburetor Story”


I really don’t know how to tell the carburetor story because it has everything to do with emotions and so little to do with carburetors. I guess it began early in December when I taught Helen how to tune into her Higher Self. We did it together on the phone two times, and both times we spent almost all day on phone. But the last words Helen’s Higher Self said while I was with Helen on the phone were, “tell Anne to get her car checked out, something is wrong with her car.”




I knew it had to be the truck, not the secondhand Chrysler. So when Bill said he was going to take it in for oil change and check up, I pushed for it hard. “Good idea! do it now!” And I wasn’t so surprised when the phone call came from head mechanic at Regis, the dealership where we had bought the truck originally 15 years ago, saying “you need a new carburetor.” He said the carburetor costs $1400 but he has clients who bought a rebuilt carburetor on line for $400, and it worked out, and he suggests I do that, and then bring it to him to install.




So I called my brother, who buys everything on line, and gave him the specifics that Tony gave me, that it is for an Isuzu truck, and the specifics for the carburetor. And he said he would do it. And that same day I got email: he had talked to Jerry at the rebuilt carburetor company in Florida, and this is his phone number, and I should call him, and I pay him $260, he sends me rebuilt carburetor, but I must send my old one back to him or I will be charged 100 dollars, and it is guaranteed for life. So I called my brother and said “call Jerry right back, you order it, put it on your credit card, give him my address, and I am writing out the check for 260 right now to reimburse you.” So my brother said “fine,”




And two weeks later it arrived. So the Monday before Christmas, Bill drove over with the truck and the rebuilt carburetor for Tony to have his mechanic put it in. And we thought a few hours later the job would be done and Bill would pick up the truck, and we would pay the cost of installation.



However the phone call which arrived a few hours later did not say “come pick up your truck it is done,” but instead Tony said “it is emitting black fumes and guzzling gas, something is wrong.”

And then the emotions began because we both got upset. When I calmed down I called Jerry in Florida. Jerry’s phone number was still on the email from my brother from when he had said “call Jerry and order the carburetor.” I told Jerry, and he said he will have his mechanic talk to Tony’s mechanic and tell him how to fix it, something probably came loose in shipping. So I called Tony and told him that, and he said fine. But Jerry’s mechanic did not call back till late afternoon, and by the time Tony’s mechanic called him back he had left work because of the time change. So we had waited all day in the house for Tony to call and say it was done, but it was never done.




The next day we waited all day in the house for phone call to say it was done, and I don’t remember what went wrong that day. O that was the day that the mechanics from the carburetor company in the factory in Chicago came back to the office in Florida. That’s right. I was on the phone with Jerry so many times about “have they arrived, so Tony can talk to them, and get instructions.”




By the third day, Wednesday, I realized waiting around the house for the phone call from Tony saying “it is done, pick up your truck,” is big mistake, because it was turning into the phone call which never came. Tony and I had gotten very close from all my phone calls to him asking “is it done yet?” A lot of love was exchanged on both sides. But Bill and I were going stir crazy in the house. The weather had changed, it was freezing cold, we were trapped in the house. In fact in one of my phone calls with Tony, he said it has started to snow.




So on the third day, Wednesday, I said “let’s take the Chrysler and go shopping, we are running out of food and also go swimming, we can stop by Regis and find out what is going on at the end.” The evening before Bill had said “let’s go to the hot pool at Randolph Park just to relax ourselves.” But the 2nd hand Chrysler refused to start in the freezing cold. So I got out of the car and came back in the house. But Bill stayed with it till he figured out how to get it to start. And was able to get dog food, we were out of that, and bread, we were out of that, and lunchmeat, we were out of that, so we could feed the dogs and make sandwiches for ourselves. That was Tuesday night.




So that is why on Wednesday I wanted a real outing, a nice swim, and real shopping, which we did in the freezing cold pouring rain. But we were both so glad to be out, and not at home nervously waiting for the phone call “car is ready.”




We had wonderful swim, and wonderful shopping at Fry’s, and were upbeat again when we drove into Regis parking lot. And before we drove in, we saw our truck being driven around the block. “That’s our truck” Bill said. Wednesday is Tony’s day off, so we talked to Bob the head mechanic. He said Andy finally called him, he followed Andy’s instructions, the carburetor is fixed and in, and being taken for a test drive, and he will call me when it is time to pick it up.

So we went home and put our groceries away.

Bob called and said the carburetor works fine but the clutch is gone, and that will cost another 800 or 900 dollars. He said the cost of repairing the carburetor was $90, but Andy told him I should pay it and he will reimburse me, and the cost of installing the carburetor is $360. He said he has the new clutch there right now and can do it right now. I said “let me talk to Bill.” Bill and I figured the clutch would last for one more month, but he’d be so nervous driving it, not knowing when it would go out completely. Bill said “the truck is already over there, let him do it now, we'll put it all on Discover Card and pay little by little.” And Tony had said he would put the invoice for the $90 done to fix the carburetor in the box with the old carburetor and ship it back to them. So I called Bob back and said “go ahead.” Bob said the clutch is not here, and I will have to wait till after Christmas. And Bill said “fine.”




The next morning, Thursday, Tony called and said he found the clutch, and they can do it right away. So on Thursday we waited all day for Tony to call back and say “pick up the truck.” And by late afternoon we both snapped. I had called Jerry in Florida, to say “Tony said he will mail my old carburetor to you, with the invoice for the work they did to fix yours, it comes to $90, and Andy said he would reimburse me.” And Jerry said “that is not how we do things.” It was clear he had no intention of reimbursing me. But he told me Andy is the head of the whole outfit, I have to talk to Andy, whatever he says goes. And I left a message for Andy to call me back, which he never did. And I tried to call him 5 times that day, but Jerry kept saying he is not around.

I called Tony back and said “they expressed surprise about reimbursing me.” And Tony said “I figured that.”

I think that was my last phone call with Tony Thursday morning. I called Jerry in Florida 5 times trying to find Andy. And waited all day for truck to be ready. And by late Thursday afternoon, Bill and I both snapped from the stress. The Sun had come out, we were in the yard, and we both started to yell. We were getting in each others hair being trapped in house together too long with too much stress.




Even tho the warm delicious Sun was now out, I went under the covers in my cold room to calm down and talk to my Higher Self. Bill and I were now fighting and telling each other to go to hell, and both saying the truck should go to hell too, who wants it. That is why I had to go under covers in icy cold room and be with my Higher Self and calm down.




It was easy to calm down from being mad at Bill, but not from all the stress. It had been 4 long days of it, it had been too much. Finally my Higher Self said “Call Tony.” It was just before closing time. I said “Tony, it’s Anne, is there any chance the truck is ready?” And he said “I told you it wouldn’t be ready today, I have to find the clutch, we have not gotten to it yet.” This isn’t how I remembered the phone call. But Tony was in such a great mood and so loving to me. He said he found a coupon for 10 per cent off, and he decided to give it to me, because I have been so nice to him. And I said “O Tony I love you.” And he said “I know you love me because you call me all the time.” He was in a great mood, and cracking lots of jokes, and being totally loving. But I was wiped out by all the emotion, altho I was trying to perk up. His first words to me were “Great news! I found the coupon and I am giving it to you.” And I said “I am so happy to hear great news right now, because Bill and I have started to fight.” But Tony was so happy and upbeat, that I caught his wave. When he said “I know you love me because you call me all the time,” I said “I told my mom I am on intimate terms with my car mechanic.” And he laughed his head off, and said “tell her we are already in the clutch!” And of course I laughed my head off at that, it was my first car mechanic joke. “OK I’ll tell her we have reached the clutch!” I said giggling. “But don’t tell your husband” Tony said, “he is bigger than me.” “OK” I said. “Well you cheered me up Tony, I'll go in and kiss my husband now” (I was feeling bad from all the yelling I had done). “Only on the forehead!” Tony warned me. And I burst out giggling again.




So I told Bill “the truck will be ready tomorrow,” And he said “today got screwed up because Tony said it would be done today, I was perfectly willing to wait till after Christmas.” “Me, too “I said, “but Tony was so overjoyed to be able to get it done for us before Christmas, he felt he was doing us such a huge favor, I didn’t have the heart to tell him.” Bill and I were soft and sweet and gentle with each other, because it had been a huge tempest in the backyard.




When Friday came, I said “let’s use our head, no more waiting around for phone call ‘truck is done pick it up,’ we see now that phone call never comes, let’s just have our ordinary day, and when the phone call shows up on the machine, it is there.” So the only thing I did on Friday were 5 more fruitless phone calls to Jerry in Florida, trying to reach Andy, and trying to find out if they will reimburse me for the money to fix the carburetor. Other than that we had ordinary day and it was very nice. We all piled into the Chrysler, and drove to Randolph Park. I got to swim in their pool, and Bill took both dogs to the dog run there. And then Bill and I went to PetCo, and he chose a spectacularly beautiful new collar and leash for Beanie. We were so happy. And then we got home. There was the message from Tony “car is ready.” But it was now freezing rain again. Bill didn’t want to walk over, and I don’t know how to drive. Tony said the courtesy car will take 2 hours because there are so many other stops. So I called Bill’s friend Jim, from the club, who lives in our area. Jim’s mechanic is way over on the other side of town, and he has called Bill so many times to drive him to pick up his car that he is embarrassed to call again to ask for the favor again, even tho I told him 10 times Bill is happy to do it. I thought, Jim will be glad to return the favor, and Regis is just a few miles away. Jim said he will come right over. And I told Bill “just pay the whole bill on Discover.”




When Bill returned home and showed me the invoice, Tony had managed to take 300 dollars off the total, which is a tremendous gift. However he had not mailed the old carburetor back to them, it was in the box for me to mail. The new clutch was not soft as butter the way the old one was, Bill had to get used to it. But we had known for a whole year the clutch was going, it was a godsend the new one is in there. He said picking up the car was stressful, now he is going to go over to the hot pool at Randolph and have a long relax. And I thanked him for everything he did, he was magnificent.




The story really should have ended there. Except in my last phone call with Jerry in Florida on Friday he said no one will be there till after New Year’s, so I should call back then to see if Andy is willing to reimburse me, and to hold off mailing back the old carburetor to them till I talk to Andy.




So on the day after New Year’s, which was few days ago, I called back. And this time Andy answered the phone. He said no way is he going to reimburse me 90 for fixing the carburetor, it is not a 90 dollar job, and he said he told the mechanic he would be willing to pay 25 or 30. We had a long conversation, he was hard as nails, I was sweet as sugar. Finally he said he will meet me half way, and pay 45. That I should put the invoice and a letter saying “per phone call with Andy reimburse me 45,” in a zip-lock bag with the carburetor because there will be oil over it. And he had me write down exactly what I would say in the letter. And I was loving and gracious and thanked him.



And that is how we left it. I was loving and gracious to both Jerry and Andy, because that is my way. And I had planned to write a very nice letter along with Andy’s instructions.



Which is why I was so shocked in swim pool when my Higher Self instructed me not to write loving thank you letter, but instead to say “I am sorry it did not work out well for me, and I did not have a good experience with your company, and I think you should reconsider and reimburse me for the whole amount.”



I have now been with my Higher Self for 15 years, and never has she instructed me to do any communication which is not grateful, gracious, and loving. I can see why now. Because I became totally upset in swim pool at idea of writing this unpleasant letter. I hadn’t realized how much it harmonized me to be unfailingly lovely to everyone, no matter what their behavior was to me. “Are you sure you want me to write this unpleasant letter?” I kept asking. “Yes” she kept saying. She said I should not write what I had intended to write, which was to thank them for their help and kindness to me, since they were not helpful nor kind to me. That I should say the truth. That “I am sorry it did not work out for me and I hope their other customers have a better experience with their outfit than I did.”

Of course then I started to add things in my own mind, and it wrecked my peace of mind. I was glad when swim was over, I was going wicky wacky.




That night, after I watched the wonderful movie “Mr. Smith Goes To Washington,” I went back to the unpleasant letter in my mind. I still couldn’t believe my Higher Self wanted me to write it. Again she gave me the words to say, again I got carried away and added a lot more in my mind, which upset me. So we went over and over the letter, so I would say just what she had me say, and nothing else. And when I turned on TV to see what time it was, I thought it was midnight, it was 4 AM. I guess the movie had come on at midnight, and then I had been beset in my mind about the letter for the whole second movie, it was just ending.




So the next morning, in all that beautiful Sunshine, and Spring in the air, I got out all my bills, I had not paid December bills. And first I wrote out checks for all of them. I did it all at the table in the backyard. Then I went and got the carburetor in the box. And I was going to get paper to write my unpleasant letter. But first I asked Bill “where is the invoice from Regis,” because I wanted to include that. Andy had said make a copy of that for myself and send him the original in the ziplock bag with my letter. And I studied the invoice. There was the installation of the carburetor, it said how they had to fix the malfunctioned carburetor. And then it was for the clutch. Parts and labor were listed separately. It was 900 for labor for both, which I guess is 10 hours, but nowhere was there separate itemization for labor spent fixing carburetor.




And as I studied the invoice I realized a lot of things. I realized there never was a 10 per cent off coupon which Tony had decided to give to me because I was so nice to him. That was the story he gave me to explain why he took 300 off my bill. That he had taken 300 off my bill to be swell to me, by leaving out things he had done. He took off the 90 spent on fixing the rebuilt carburetor because when I told him Jerry was reluctant to pay it, he knew they weren’t going to. And he found 210 elsewhere to take off. That was why he gave me the carburetor to mail back to them, because there was no invoice with it for work they had done.




Also after having slept on it, I was no longer upset about writing the unpleasant letter. All my emotions had gone away. I was perfectly willing to write the two sentences how it did not work out for me. I was able to be calm with it. This helped me, because it strengthened my hold on my peace. I actually thought that with my Higher Self holding my hand, and taking down dictation, I could be just as peaceful writing “I am sorry it did not work out for me, I hope your other customers have a better experience,” as if I were writing “thank you for all your kind help.” I was willing to trust my Higher Self knew best, what was best for all.

It had taken a full 24 hours to reach that place in my mind.

And so my Higher Self said "Then let’s forget all about the letter, Tony didn’t charge you for the work done to fix the carburetor, they don’t have to reimburse, let’s forget all about it, let’s just bring the carburetor to post office today, pay the $25 to send it back to them, and your dealings with them are over.” “What about the $45 Andy said they would pay?” “Forget about it, you’ve had non-stop hell dealing with them, let it be over now.”

Bill said “good idea.” He said an unpleasant letter would upset them and upset me, and we saved so much money, let’s just bring it to the post office.




And 3 days ago we did. Bill said “I’ll carry it in for you.” And the man in post office was kind enough to tape it all up for me. He was very sympathetic and kind. I gave him very abbreviated story. I just said “how can I not buy the rebuilt one, when a new one costs $1000 more, but it turned out to be broken, so things were difficult.” He was so loving to me. He did everything. He packed up the carburetor in the old box. He taped it all up. He wrote out the address label for where it should go. He suggested for 65 cents I pay for proof of delivery. I said OK. And then I said “I bought my friend Sally a very pretty skirt for Christmas,” and I showed him my stamps, and he put the stamps on that. And he said “do you need new stamps? the quilt stamp is very pretty.” So I bought a book of quilt stamps, and some ones and twos for my old stamps. And it was all love and joy and help.




And I arrived back at the car and said “SUCCESS! carburetor is on its way to Florida, it’s all done and over with.” And Bill was so happy.



And we drove to swim pool for glorious swim in the Sunshine.

The Joy of a Big Mouth New Yorker

"Gallery Flowers" by Layla Edwards

"The Way We Were"

Wednesday 12/14/05 Tucson Arizona

7 AM in Tucson. Sun only hits top of trees, turning them gold. I think today will be a pretty day. None of the birds seem to be up yet. O there is Pepper walking across our yard. And Snowball just came in house for her breakfast. I live in new world now that 3 of my neighbor’s cats have been spending so much time in our yard and house. O the sky looks bluer, I guess the Sun must be rising above the mountains. Happy is digging a foxhole for himself. O now he laid down in it. O there is Snowball hopping across the yard. I wonder if she is hunting a bird. Do you believe that! Snowball just climbed the whole tree. O now I hope the birds in their nests are safe from Snowball.

Happy in his foxhole. Sky much bluer. And whole top half of trees in yard lit up with yellow from sunlight. First bird to fly across yard. It is almost 8 AM now. O I see the early bird hip hopping across yard looking for food. Another bird swooped out of tree. O another arrived on ground.

O now two birds arrived together. And 3rd dropped down to ground. The bird world is out and about. I see they don’t get out of bed till 8 AM in winter. They wait till there is some sunlight in yard.

A week from today the Solstice arrives, the light will grow again. It is pretty this wintertime on desert. The light is now 3/4 down the trees. O Pepper is climbing the mesquite tree after a bird. I just hope those nests are high up and inaccessible. I forgot cats can climb trees and they do it so effortlessly. It is natural for them to do it.

The Sun has now reached part of the backyard itself. Bill woke up, heated up his coffee, took a chair and his book, and is reading it in the one spot where the Sun splashes across the yard. Happy is in his foxhole and Snowball is still in the sunshine surveying it all. O now she has lifted up her leg and is grooming herself. It is a long time since I have gotten to watch a kitty cat grooming herself.

Maureen and Sally were both in the jacuzzi when I arrived at the pool yesterday. Maureen is the new girl. She and her husband just moved to Tucson week after Thanksgiving so they have been here barely 3 weeks now. Maureen said her husband found our swim club, and he knew it would make Maureen happy and suggested they join and Maureen loves it. Maureen says “it is a huge beautiful place but the people are not hoity toity at all.” In fact I think all the crackpots in Tucson belong to it which is why Maureen fits right in, but I didn’t say that to her. But Maureen is right, it looks like a fancy country club, which is what makes it so nice that all the people are normal. Maureen feels like she has best of both worlds, which she does.

As for me I am stunned that a warm wonderful loud mouthed New Yorker has arrived in the middle of my club. It is so much fun. Maureen said she lived in Maine for 5 years and they didn’t like New Yorkers there. I’m not sure if this is true, I bet Maureen is missed by the people who knew her in Maine, she is so friendly and outgoing and warm. But if she was meant to move to Tucson now, then it is logical something would have made her uncomfortable in Maine. Nobody leaves when they are comfortable, and it is possible destiny had a hand.

She looked on the net and there were only 5 openings for jobs for her husband and two were in Arizona (one in Flagstaff and one in Tucson) and she chose Tucson. Then she went on Craig’s List and found a little house to rent. It is a guest house behind a much bigger house, but it is exactly the location she wanted, in the middle of everything, and it turns out it is also a lovely area.

The woman was very reluctant to rent it to Maureen because she couldn’t figure out why Maureen wanted it. It does sound very tiny for Maureen, her husband, and their two basset hounds. But Maureen realized the woman’s reluctance was based on Maureen’s happiness, so she told the woman, “I want it, so I will do whatever you want, sign a lease, pay the money ahead of time, pay the first 3 months rent first, whatever you want, I want this house.”

So the woman said OK. And now that Maureen arrived she likes the little house. She spent yesterday going to the nursery to buy a million plants to put in the little yard around it. Maureen says she loves gardening and can’t wait to get her hands in the earth. She is stunned this is planting season in Tucson, that the middle of December can be a time to plant all the winter flowers. In Tucson pansies, geraniums and petunias are winter flowers, they love our winters.

Her friend from San Francisco (Maureen had also lived 8 years in San Francisco) invited her to join her at a fancy resort in Palm Springs next week. Maureen said the two of them had gone there many years ago and had a great time and she is thrilled to be going back. She said it is 5 hour drive across the beautiful desert, which she said is a perfect drive.

I think it will be nice for Maureen. Relocation means a ton of work, so a week in luxurious resort where everything is done for you will be a nice vacation. Maureen said they ate out every night their first two weeks in Tucson but now she is going home to make stew. She doesn’t like the haircut she got at the foothills beauty shop last week, “I look best in bouffant poof like Barbra Streisand has.”

I guess you’d have to say the original encounter between Maureen and me and Sally was blessed. The 3 of us were in the jacuzzi when Sally was talking about the fairy mermaid dolls she made for her two little granddaughters. I included Maureen in the conversation by describing how beautiful the dolls are. And of course Maureen won Sally’s heart instantly when she asked if she could purchase 5 of them.

The conversation meandered off dolls to playing dress-up when we were little kids, and then somehow on to shoplifting. I said “I got caught shoplifting in Alexanders when I was 19 and it was awful.” “Which Alexanders?” Maureen asked. “57th St. and Lexington” I said. “O two blocks from Bloomingdales” Maureen said. Which is how I found out she was a New Yorker.

I dreamt about my long-time friend Helen last night. In my dream I was telling her why she was like Robert Redford my favorite actor. I said to Helen “it is impossible to figure out what makes Robert Redford so wonderful, I have tried. And it is same with you Helen, you are wonderful like Robert Redford, but I can’t figure it out, it is not something which can be explained nor can it be understood, it just is.”

"Michael and my writers meeting”

June 20 2006 Tucson Arizona

It rained during the night. There are puddles in the yard and everything is damp.

We got to the writers meeting at Barnes and Noble early last evening and I was surprised it had already started. A woman named Betsy, who had been at a previous meeting, was there. And a man and woman I didn’t know. It turns out she is the wife of the man. Because mid-meeting I turned to her and said “what do you write?” And she said “I don’t write anything, I am his wife.” I said “well being a wife is harder than being a writer.” And to my surprise everyone at the table turned to me as if that was an unusual thing to say. I said “sure writing is just one hour in the morning, you make yourself laugh or tell a story, but being a wife means having to keep your mouth shut, and other things too.” Betsy said “O like ‘stifle yourself Edith.’” I said “yes.” And she said “is your husband like Archie Bunker?” I said “no, my husband is a man.” I didn’t want to elaborate because I saw Bill just a few feet in front of us at the section of “Fantasy and Science Fiction.”

He is enjoying the Hobbit books so much, he wanted to see what else is written in that genre. And on the way home he said “they have ‘Dracula’ there, it is only $6.95.” I said “get it, that is the price of dinner in the restaurant, we can afford that.” And when we had supper very late at night (when house turned quiet after the big thunderstorm) Bill told me the start of “Dracula” which he had read while I was at my meeting.

Apparently a man in Transylvania goes to a castle and when he arrives there is no one there. However he is expected, because a nice plate of paprika chicken is prepared for him with a nice vegetable side. That is as far as he got in telling me the story. Because all of a sudden I remembered that this morning, when I was on the web looking up Sally’s address so I could send her thank you card for making me the beautiful bracelet, and Layla’s address so I could send her happy birthday card, yesterday was her birthday. When I saw how easy it was to look up someone’s address, and I was copying all these addresses into my address books, I thought “why don’t I look up Michael’s address too.”

Back in the days when I was first living with Bill our best friends were Teresa and Michael. Bill was working days and going to school at nights. And Teresa and Michael arrived every evening and I’d sit at kitchen table with them while Bill was at the big desk in other room studying. Teresa was a modern dancer and Michael was a modern artist, and that’s actually how I became a writer. Bill said “why don’t you write.”

Bill, Michael, and I had all met at the Paradox, a macrobiotic restaurant on 7th Street in East Village, Manhattan. Bill was working there, and Michael and I used to eat there, and it was a hang-out place. Michael and I spent long evenings there at the long tables in the backyard garden. He was in love with Dino, one of the young men who always hung out there. But Michael was always upset at him, and when he got very upset he would say “I am going to call immigration and inform them Dino does not have a green card.” I think Dino was from Greece. Which is what eventually happened to Dino. Someone did get very very upset with him and informed immigration on him and he was sent back to Greece, but it wasn’t Michael who did it, maybe it was one of his other boyfriends.

There are no words for how close and happy Michael and me and Teresa were, and what happy evenings we spent at my kitchen table, and when Bill wasn’t studying we went into the other room and joined him. But it turned out Michael’s total devotion to me-- I was one in a series. Before me there was the lovely Diane, and after me was the girl who was the poet, Arlene, from New Jersey who was friends with Patty Smith. And after Arlene that wonderful girl who had lived in Vancouver and been the girlfriend of Mark Roberts, who lives in the Canadian Rockies. The last time I saw Michael she was still the one, and for all I know she may still be the one.

The tremendously close friendships ended when there is a fight about something, and then Michael moves on to a new woman. It is quite a shock when it happens, because while the friendship is taking place you think ‘this is a friendship of a lifetime.’ But it’s not. You spend every single day of your life, almost all day, with Michael for two years, and then you never see him again. He is at Arlene’s house, in Arlene’s kitchen, and he is spending every single day of his life with Arlene. And when you bump into him in the street he tells you all about Arlene. But when Michael had the big fight with the one who came after Arlene, and bumped into me on the street and took me out to lunch and said “I am never going to see Lisa again.” And I thought ‘O poor Lisa, she doesn’t know, she has had all this devotion for two years and now it will disappear.’ But the last time I saw Michael, he had taken me to Lisa’s apartment on 7th Street, and of course Michael had done all the work on her apartment, and they were still totally close, so I figure he found the one girl he didn’t want to move on from.

Michael was also living on 7th Street at that time, altho I never visited him in his new apartment, but I had his phone number and address in my address book. And one year, a few years ago, when I wasn’t in the mood to send out Christmas cards that year, and wasn’t going to do it, Bill got out the box of Christmas cards we had bought together, found my address book, and when I woke up in the morning he told me he had sent out one to everyone “even Michael Zebrenski.” I thought “wow!” Michael had actually called me one time while I was in Tucson, he had heard from someone I moved here. We had just moved into the house so we were here one year. And he said “why did you move to Tucson” and I told him, and then we got off the phone and I never heard from him again.

But the Christmas card came back a month later saying “moved, new address unknown,” and I kept it in my drawer a very long time. I planned to find out Michael’s new address and send a note to him. And then out of the blue yesterday morning, when I googled Sally’s address and Layla’s address, I typed in “Michael Zebrenski New York City,” and there was only one listing, and it was way out in Queens. ‘Queens,’ I thought, ‘Michael has never even been in Queens, can that be right?’ So I retyped “Mike Zebrenski,” he likes to be called Mike, and got the same address and phone number.

So my Higher Self said “if it’s 9:30 in Tucson, it is 12:30 in New York, Michael won’t be home, but everyone has answering machine these days, call and listen to the message and see if it is Michael’s voice, it won’t cost very much for long distance for 30 second call.” So I called but the message was so short, “I’m not home please leave a message.” It was a man, well obviously it would be, it was a strong clear voice with a hint of a New York accent. It didn’t sound like Michael, there was a trace of a New York accent and Michael is from Indiana, but Michael has now been in New York long time, he would have picked up New York accent. I wanted to redial and call Bill and have him listen to the message so he could say if it was Michael or not. But my Higher Self said “no, that’s silly, forget about it.”

But before Bill started to tell me about “Dracula,” he had said his friend Dave is Polish but not Catholic, and I said “I don’t think Jan is Catholic either, her parents belonged to a sect.” "The Polish are very nice people," Bill said. "I agree." And talking about our friends who are Polish made me remember Michael. So even tho I was very interested hearing about the man who arrived at castle and no one was there but he was expected and the paprika chicken was prepared for him and the vegetable, and as Bill started to wax eloquent about what the vegetable would be, my mind went back to Michael.

And I said “I tried to call Michael Zebrenski today.” He ignored my interruption, the way he always does when he is in the middle of telling me something which interests him and he wants to finish his thoughts. And I like hearing Bill’s stories, half the time when he describes a book to me, Bill’s telling of it is more interesting than the book itself. I like the way his mind meanders around certain details, and then he supplies the details he imagines should be there. None of my interruptions ever interest him in the slightest, but this one did. And after he finished saying what vegetable he thought it would be, he said “you were saying about Michael Zebrenski.” And I told him, “do you think Michael is living in Queens now?” “Could be,” he said. And we went over my research on google and what the man on answering machine sounded like.

That was really the happy note the evening ended on. We were both sleepy after that and went to bed. I was in suspense about what happened to the man after he ate his paprika chicken in the castle where no one was there. And I had a hunch we’d never figure out where Michael is living now. “I could try New Jersey” I said, “it’s more likely he moved across the river to Hoboken than he would move way out to the far reaches of Queens.” “Yes,” Bill said, “Manhattan rents are so high now he might have moved to New Jersey.”

“Back to the Meeting”

Steve wore an orange Hawaiian shirt, a faded orange. The seat to the right of Steve was empty so I took it. The woman’s husband took the seat at opposite end of table facing Steve. The wife sat next to her husband. And Betsy sat next to the man, who was her friend. Steve seemed relaxed and happy. He greeted me nicely when I arrived and I shyly returned his warm greeting.

The man did most of the talking, he had written many books but there was a hiatus when he didn’t write at all and he told us what got him back into writing. His books are at Lulu.com whatever that is, and he makes a little money from that, dribs and drabs, and he would like to make a lot of money from his books. His questions were about how to get published by mainstream publisher. His last book was a how-to book and I am not very interested in how-to books. Altho Steve told us the biggest market is for romance, mysteries, and how-to books. All of us at the table agreed we don’t like romances. Betsy pointed out every book has some mystery, some romance, and I now realize some how-to.

At the end of the meeting when Betsy said, “is this an on-going meeting which meets every month?” Steve explained he sees his role as wagon-master, at each meeting he gives out the same information, how to get started in Tucson, what is happening here, who to connect with, how to start writing, and how to get published. He expects to have new faces at each meeting, he never intended to have groupies. Which I just ignored since I like showing up every month. And so does Maria. The reason she wasn’t there is because she is in Poland visiting friends and family. So Betsy said “will you be here next month?” And Steve told us his wife needs him now, he is going to back to LA, and he is retiring from Raytheon, and Andrew will have to find someone to replace him. As for next month there is a chance he will be here, but he doesn’t know.

I’m not sure he wants to live in Los Angeles again, he had said Tucson has now gotten too big. But he has his boat there and his airplane there. “My boat has been in storage for 7 years, I have been paying rent on it, it will be nice to be on the water again.” And he has also been paying rent to keep his airplane in storage. So I guess Steve has been here for 7 years.

When Steve said Tucson has gotten too big now and we all have to think about moving to Benson, I said “what about Ajo?” And his face lit up. “You know I recently visited Ajo” he said. I wonder if he flew there in one of his airplanes because all he talked about was the runway at the Ajo airport. He loved the runway, it is so huge. Apparently that airport with its huge runway was built that way in WW2 for some reason. And Steve said he met a man in Ajo from Border Control and raved about the runway to him, and the man said “does Ajo even have an airport.” Even tho I have never been to Ajo, it is the place I secretly dream about moving to if I leave Tucson. And I am braced for Ajo jokes. According to everyone in Tucson, Ajo is nowhere, has nothing, and no one lives there. Which is not the exact truth, I looked Ajo up on the web and learned a lot about it. But I can see why it is a place where a border control man lives and says “I am surprised Ajo even has an airport.”

Steve said the reason he may still be in Tucson when the writers meeting takes place next month, is because he wants to show his oldest daughter Tombstone, she has never been there. “She is 35” Steve told us.

So Steve is going back home. His long sojourn in Tucson is over. I had a sadness. Bill said when we were leaving and I told him, “maybe the new person will have new information and you can gain a lot from the new person.” And I knew that was true, but it never occurred to me Steve would leave. He’s such a fixture here. He is at the meeting every month at Barnes and Noble when I show up for it, he is at the Southwest Authors Luncheon at the Plaza Hotel when I show up for that. He is a bedrock of the writers community here in Tucson. And he is the one who got me back into writing. Whenever I drift away from writing now, I just show up at Steve’s next meeting and the next day I am writing.

When Betsy had asked “are these meetings on-going” and Steve said how he expects new people to show up each time because he is wagon master, I said “me and Maria come to every meeting.” And Betsy said “who is Maria?” and Steve said “a friend.”



It is to Steve’s great credit, when he does leave Tucson next month, every person who has come across him here, will miss him very much. I have never met anyone less imposing than Steve, and with so much to offer.