"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.

"We Have Nice Superbowl Sunday"

"Sporty" by Layla

We Have Nice Superbowl Sunday
Monday February 5 2007

O it is February blue. I recognize this blue sky of February from New York City and it is same February blue here. Such a pretty blue. Such a February blue. I forget about February but it really is transition month to Spring. It is special in its own right. Even in NYC they began selling the potted hyacinths in February, it is the smell of February back in NYC. Here in Tucson it is lovely shade of blue, same shade as in New York.

Both dogs have arrived in the sunshine. Lulu is on her sun couch, just looking around. Beanie is at the back fence patrolling it, he is looking for something to bark at. And he just found it. O that is not Beanie barking, it is the dog on the other side of the fence who discovered Beanie is there. Beanie has run away. He is running into the house to his Daddy. I just heard Bill’s welcome. “Hi Beanie,” and he is saying what he will cook for him later. Beanie is always busy. But he is still such a new arrival from the pound, has only been here two months, that we don’t yet know what Beanie really likes to do. As he gets more secure here he may not be so busy all the time, he will settle down more.

Bill’s friend Jim came over to watch Superbowl with him yesterday. The whole day was high drama because we have not had company of any kind for a year or two. The house had gone to pot during the two weeks of cold and rain when no one wanted to do anything. There were so many dishes in the sink I could no longer find a fresh cup for coffee or fresh spoon to stir it. All the dishes we regularly use were piled up in the sink along with a bunch of cups I had found in back of closet and had been using for coffee and glasses for apple cider. But Bill announced he was going to sweep and mop and vacuum whole house, so I went in to put up two loads of dishes, one huge load of all the plates and glasses and cups and silverware, and when that ended the pots and pans Bill had used for cooking when he was in cooking mode last week.

A big housecleaning went on. Plus Bill decided to move all the furniture he doesn’t like or doesn’t use from the big room the sun pours into, into the second living room, a huge room which was added on to the original house. That huge room looks like a storage room now, it is so cluttered. It has two couches no one uses with stuff piled up on it, and tables and worktables and chairs. Anything someone doesn’t want has gone into that room. And it used to be such a beautiful living room.

We used it a lot the first 10 years we were here because we didn’t have heat in the house and that room has huge fireplace. Bill would build fire in the fire place and keep it going all evening. We had a TV in there and a couch and we spent all our winter evenings there. But when I learned how to go on internet and email I got addicted to my computer, I didn’t want to leave it to be near the fire, instead I got a space heater and stayed in here. And Happy stayed with me. So when Bill called “the fire is up, everyone is invited to enjoy the warmth,” only Bill and Lulu went in. And eventually it was too much work when no one really wanted to go there. And when my mom paid for us to have heat put in the house, the heat only reached this part of the house, it did not reach the add-on (the add-on is the huge living room and a back bedroom). So then we all stayed in this part of the house, except I like sleeping under 4 comforters under open window in back bedroom.

Yesterday during the big clean up for company for Superbowl he did move all the stuff out of the sun room he doesn’t use for art, and moved it into the big room. The sun room is practically empty now, just an art table and a couch the dogs like to go on. It looks nice, very empty, very clean. When Bill and Jim watched Superbowl yesterday Bill wheeled the TV in from his room, set it up, Jim sat on couch, and Bill sat on one of Caren’s mother’s bridge chairs he brought in from the room of wall-to-wall clutter and furniture.

Bill finished the huge project of cleaning the house just in time for us to have nice swim at Fort Lowell pool before the game began. The original plan was that Jim and I would go to Costco before the game began and I would join up me and Jim (Helen sent the check for me to join but Bill doesn’t want it and Jim does). And we would pick up a pizza there for Superbowl, because everyone says Costco has good pizza, and pizza is what Bill and Jim wanted for Superbowl. I already had lots of soda in the refrigerator.

I called Jim and said “pick me up at the Fort Lowell Pool, it’s on the way to Costco, and I will join up you and me, and we can pick up a pizza and be back in time for kick-off.” But Jim takes care of his aged mother, he is living in her house, and said “I don’t know if I will have finished giving her her lunch and getting her into bed before then, you call me when you get back from the pool.” So I said “OK.” This is the 3rd time I have planned with Jim to go to Costco together to sign us both up, and the 3rd time the plan got aborted. So after the pool I said to Bill, “Just in case Jim and I don’t do Costco, let’s stop at Sunflower for baguettes and lunchmeat, we can have hero sandwiches and soda during the game just in case there is no pizza.”

The result is Bill and I got home at exactly the time of kick-off. I said to Jim “we're home, maybe you want to skip Costco, you can have hero sandwiches here, or we can go at half-time.” He said “let’s do it now, I’ll pick you up right now.” So I got my purse with Helen’s check to Costco. I had figured out how to do the whole thing. The man at membership said “everyone who lives under same roof can join,” and he said “the address on check has to match the address on Drivers License when you pay.” Since Jim refuses to own a debit card, he would write out a check, but I would use my debit card. So I decided we would give Jim’s address. I thought this was a good solution.

But Jim picked me up and the instant we started to drive to Costco his car acted up, and he said “I don’t think we will make it.” And at first I said “we will make it,” but then the car really acted up, so I said “OK turn around and go back to my house, we won’t have pizza, we will have hero sandwiches.” I think Jim really wanted pizza, he said “there are other pizza places closer by, or we can order in.” But I am a New Yorker, I know what good pizza tastes like, and I didn’t want any of the pizza places close to my house.

So we came home. I was starving and made myself hero sandwich right away. I had bought a nice selection of lunchmeat at Sunflower, plus their good baguettes. And I had it in backyard with a Sprite. It was the last of the sun. Bill said “bring Jim out a soda.” And Jim said he wanted Coca Cola, so I brought that out to him, and told him “everything is out on the counter, you can make yourself a sandwich.” But then I called in “Bill, you help him, show him how to make the sandwich,” because I thought ‘what if Jim is shy about making himself a sandwich.’ And I heard Bill take out the lettuce and tomatoes for him and onions. I heard Jim say he doesn’t want lettuce, just tomato and onions with it, and I heard Jim whistling while he made his sandwich. Bill whistles when he is happy and it was joy hearing Jim whistle when he made his sandwich. I think the sound I love above all is men whistling, it is the happiest loveliest sound in world.

Because Jim’s car acted like it would conk out any second all the way to Costco and behaved perfectly when he turned it around to head for home, I thought “Costco is just not meant to be and I am going to return the check to Helen.” Jim kept saying “we can do it another time.” But it seemed that Costco was not in my stars. When I said “turn the car around, let’s go home,” and he said “I don’t even know if the car will make it home,” I thought Costco isn’t going to happen for me. There had been so many aborted trips to Costco and now that we were actually on our way and going to do it, the car was threatening to plotz half the way there.

After I had my sandwich and Sprite in backyard and heard Jim whistling while making his sandwich, I relaxed. “I am going in to watch ‘Monk’” I said. Jim said “aren’t you going to watch the game, it will be a good game?” Jim and I talk football all the time, he doesn’t know I don’t watch the games. I talk football with Jim because I talk it with Bill. He watches the game, tells me everything, and then I consult my Higher Self and we have intelligent conversation about the games. That is why I have had many good football conversations with Jim about games. Between what Bill reports and what I learn from my Higher Self, I have grasp of what is going on. But of course I’d rather watch “Monk Marathon” than the game, I love “Monk.” It’s funny because I have watched so many games with Bill, baseball football and basketball, and always enjoyed them, and yet if I have first choice to watch what I want, I choose one of my own shows.

Jim is the one who told me about “Monk.” He kept pushing it in the pool. He pushed so hard that one day when it was “Monk Marathon” I thought I will have to turn it on and watch one show so I can face him. I don’t think I fell in love from that first show I watched, but it held my interest. And since it was marathon there were two more before marathon ended. And by the end of those two last shows I was hooked.

I curled up under all four of my quilts under open window in back room and watched “Monk Marathon” while Bill and Jim sat in sun room and watched the game. And when it was 8 o’clock and a show began that I had already seen before, I came in to ask the boys if they wanted me to shut the windows and doors and turn on the heat for them. Our nights are tremendously cold. But Jim said it is time to get back to his mom, he doesn’t like to leave her alone too long. And I said “I bought valentine cupcakes at Sunflower would your mom like one?” And he said “she loves cupcakes, yes she would.” So I left two pink ones and two red ones in the box, two for her, two for Jim, and kept back two for us. I wanted to send Jim off with a gift, he is such a nice guy.

And Bill said “I want to wait to make sure his car starts,” and it did. Then he moved TV back to his bedroom where Lulu was snoozing on bed so he and the dogs could all watch TV together and be warm and cozy, the way they have been doing every night of our cold winter. Altho for some reason when I leave computer to go to back bedroom to watch TV or read or sleep and snuggle under my 4 quilts, Beanie leaves Bill and Lulu and their cozy trio, and comes in with me and lies on top of the 4 quilts and the flannel sheets, like the real princess who was given port in the rain. He stretches himself out like the little prince, and is a wonderful companion for me. And only comes in to pay a visit to Bill and Lulu when I get up to fix myself a snack or help myself to a soda.

So Bill set himself up cozily with the dogs. I turned on the heat. I went to computer and posted for about an hour on my news forum, and then went back to watch rest of “Monk Marathon.” And Bill, who was too excited to eat while his friend was here and he was showing hospitality, fixed himself a nice hero sandwich, and shared it with the dogs of course.

It was a nice Superbowl Sunday all things considered.

And beautiful Monday morning to wake up to filled with lovely February blue and bright sunshine.

“Maria and the writers meeting” (there was no meeting)

ARIZONA RIVER by Layla Edwards

Friday, May 18th, 2007

There was no meeting at Barnes and Noble last night. The woman who was supposed to run last night’s meeting (they are now rotating, taking turns), Penny, did not show up. I was very excited when I found out Penny was going to run the meeting because I love her so much, and because she knows so much, she has the answers to all the questions I have. She is exactly who I wanted to run our meeting. I didn’t know it was going to be Penny. The last meeting I went to was in January, and then Dew Anne was still running the meetings. But Maria told me on the phone last week “Dew Anne no longer does it, now it is 2 men who do it together, and they are both wonderful, and she is so happy, because she found Dew Anne aloof, plus Dew Anne did not have good information for us, and Steve was so great, he was perfect, it’s too bad we lost Steve.”



I arrived early. Bill went to find the UFO magazine he likes to read. Barnes and Noble has two kinds of magazines he likes to read, and they are too expensive to buy. Either he likes to read about the NFL draft or he likes to read about UFOs, and each magazine costs $20. So he no longer protests when he has to drive me to the meetings, he sits in the comfortable chair and reads the magazines.



I hung around the clerk station in the middle, and a woman showed up with a book she wanted to get and also to ask, did they have the books she was looking for? And while the clerk was looking it up, I said “what a pretty blouse, where did you get it?” And she said “at Dillard’s on clearance.” Since shopping is my favorite activity, I asked a lot about Dillard’s and their sales. “Dillard’s has nice stuff” I said, “but it is expensive, how do you find out when it is on sale?” We must have still been talking about shopping when I confided I didn’t know how to drive and my husband drives me. And to my absolute and total amazement, she said “same here, she doesn’t drive and her husband drives her everywhere, and he is in the store looking around right now.” And we both confided to each other what that experience is like. “I try to be so careful” I said, “I don’t want to impose.” “I don’t want to take advantage” she said. We both said to each other how much thought, care, and effort goes into it.


She was very curious about the writers meeting. “Come stay for it” I said, “it is only an hour, it is over there, in the coffee bar.” “I can’t because of my husband” she said. And I instantly understood. “We just came back from going out to dinner.” “How nice of him to take you out to dinner” I said. “I just retired from working at the library” she said, “now I have time, maybe I will write.” “Do it” I said, “do it, it is so much fun and it is easy.”


Then Maria found me and we all introduced ourselves. She said her name is Rita. Maria said she is Maria. And Rita said that is her mother’s name, Maria Louisa, and I said “and my mother’s name is Marion.” Maria said her middle name is Anna. Maria was excited out of her mind. “I just finished my book” she said. “Congratulations Maria!” I yelled for joy. “Congratulations! Mazel tov! Congratulations! Great! Great! you did great!”


In early March Maria had told me “I am going to write a book and I am going to finish it by June before I leave for Poland.” And here it was mid-May and Maria had finished it. I don’t know how she did it. All Maria had written before was a screenplay, writing a novel is a whole other thing. And I still can’t believe it because I taught Maria how to do email. And her emails were always 5 illiterate incomprehensible misspelled words strung together. She didn’t know how to type or her way around the keyboard. English is not her first language, she came over here when she met her husband visiting Poland from America, and she was not so young when she got married.

But she had told me she had hired a girl to help her. And since Maria has very little money, and was paying so little, it must have been a labor of love on the girl’s part. Because Maria had the 225 page manuscript in her hands at Barnes and Noble, and wanted me to sit at the table and read the beginning of it. It had been printed out on her computer. I guess Maria (who won’t write at home) went to Barnes and Noble every day and wrote her heart out long-hand. The girl must have started out by sitting down at computer with Maria, and taking down dictation. Then she typed up everything Maria wrote. I really don’t know what went on. All I know is it is a brilliant well written book.

The problem for me is the topic. When Maria was 20 in Poland, she met a student at the university also 20, maybe they met in a train. They became the best of friends, very very close, not boyfriend and girlfriend but like brother and sister. And eventually he told Maria his story. He was Jewish, and as a child he had been in the big Nazi concentration camp. And Maria had written the whole story of how they met, how they became friends, everything about him and her, and also all his experiences in the concentration camp as he had told them to Maria.


“I cried and cried as I wrote the book” Maria said “that my beloved friend went thru this.” No way did I want to read Maria’s book, I thought it would upset me. But we went over to the table which had the sign “Writers Meeting” on it, in the coffee bar. And Maria said “read the first two pages,” which I did. It was very interesting. And then she said “read another page in the middle.” I said “I don’t want to read anything where something bad happens.” Which for some reason made Maria crack up. I guess when you have written a book about a little boy at Auschwitz and your friend says “I don’t want to read about anything bad which happens,” what can you do but burst out laughing.



Somehow Rita found us, and I said “Maria just finished her book, here why don’t you read some of it.” And Rita sat with us at the table, and Rita really liked it, she kept on going, and did not stop where I stopped. “It’s as if you are talking” Rita said, “just as if you are talking the story, and everything you say, I can see clearly right in front of my eyes as if I am living it.” Maria did not understand this is the greatest compliment a writer can get. She thinks a compliment is “brilliant writing,” but a compliment is someone saying “I am having the experience.”



Maria had written her screenplay about this, but they told her “you will have an easier time selling your screenplay if you turn it into a novel first.” Which is exactly what Maria did. Maria told me and Rita, now she will start her second book, it will be about cosmetics. When Maria got married and her husband brought her back to USA to live, he was a music professor, Maria went to school for skin care. She had been a brilliant chemist, the nun who taught chemistry in high school wanted Maria to be a chemist. And she found skin care very interesting. I guess it was a beauty school, but Maria said she wanted to find out what was underneath it all (I guess she meant under the skin?) and taught all that to herself. And then she went to work for Elizabeth Arden. And when she and her husband and their son moved from Missouri to Tucson, Maria was employed for a long time at the very fancy resort here, La Paloma, in the Elizabeth Arden salon, where she did facials and stuff like that. And now Maria wants to write all her expertise in a book, how to look beautiful.


Rita said to Maria “you have beautiful skin, what do you use?” And Maria said she goes to Trader Joe’s and buys jojoba oil for $5, “you just put a few drops on your face, but be careful because so much comes out at once, and all you want is a few drops.” And since I had brought my little notebook with me, to write down useful hints about how to get published, I wrote down “jojoba oil, 5 dollars, just use a few drops.”


Then Maria said “Penny never showed up, let’s go over to the back where the author is giving a talk about her book.” So Maria and Rita went over there, and I found Bill reading his UFO magazine. And he said “time to go?” and I said “yes.” I said “there was no meeting.” He said “there wasn’t? You were there for a whole hour, I thought it was a meeting.” I said “Penny didn’t show up, but Maria finished her book.” And Bill was very impressed Maria did that and very interested in her book. “Maria did a great thing” he said. “Yes she did” I said. He was worried I got cheated because there was no meeting, but I said “I had a great time and Maria, Rita, and I had our own meeting and it was very good.”


So he was relieved and we drove home under the most beautiful desert sky there ever was. And I saw a beautiful bright star up there. “O that star is so beautiful, what is it” I asked “Venus?” “It is Sirius,” he said, “the brightest star in the sky.” And life just seemed perfect to me with that beautiful evening desert sky, spread out before me, and that exquisite bright star set in it like a jewel.

"Gene"

"Desert View" by Layla Edwards

"Gene" July 3 2006 Tucson AZ

It’s not my favorite weather. But if you get up early enough, there is a kind of pearly beauty to the overcast desert. Clarity is gone, but all the green merges and shimmers. It doesn’t quite merge, it’s like an impressionist painting where nothing has definition. O a little birdie whistled. Now it whistled again. It is an encouraging sound.

Bill took me shopping yesterday which was a lot of fun. All the pretty skirts which used to be fifty dollars were now 10 dollars. I chose 3 and a pretty top to go with them, also an attractive zip sweatshirt for walking Lulu in winter. I am wearing the pretty top now. It is fun having a new top. Then we went swimming at Fort Lowell pool. The water is deep there but it was warm as bathwater. I didn’t care. Their clock broke and they haven’t replaced it but I noticed the lifeguards are on 15 minute shifts. After 4 shifts I went and took my shower. I had bought magenta nail polish the day before, and it was fun painting my fingernails and toenails after my shower this pretty shade of magenta. When weather is so oppressive, an inferno in the afternoons, and heavy dense air at night and early mornings, you do anything you can to keep your spirits up.

Two weeks ago when we were leaving Fort Lowell pool, Bill recognized Gene arriving and stopped the truck so we could say hi to him. We had first met Gene his first summer in Tucson 3 years ago. He was driving his friend Natalie’s sports car convertible then. Gene had not moved to Tucson yet. He was from New York City and staying with his friend Natalie.

We saw Gene at public pool a second time, and when autumn arrived and public pool prices went thru the roof, and we joined the club, fairly soon afterwards we discovered Gene and Natalie at the club. And I began to schmooze with Gene a lot in the Jacuzzi.

He wasn’t really a swimmer. Bill became friends with him first and told me Gene is a cartoonist. Gene had lived in his loft in Chelsea for 35 years until the landlord figured out how to get it away from him. Gene said he was born in the South but went to college in Miami, where he met all the New Yorkers, and knew New York was the place for him. And he had lived there his whole life before Natalie invited him to Tucson.

I don’t know why he came, maybe originally because of the problem with his hip. Also his stuff was in storage, altho he has been with Marty for 35 years, he could have lived with Marty. We did see Marty a few times, both at public pool and at club, because Marty is a swimmer. He is same as me, he loves to swim and he swims for long time. And I bet it was because of the joy of swimming outside in winter that Marty agreed to buy the house in Tucson. Gene has no money but Marty has very good job in New York City.

I don’t remember when it was that I heard from Sally, Gene is making his decision now, whether to stay in Tucson, move here, bring his stuff from New York City, or go back. I knew Gene would stay. Even tho Gene was every inch a New Yorker, as I had been when I moved here, and even tho Gene had no intention of moving to Tucson when he arrived, I knew what was conscious for me was below consciousness for Gene. That he loved Tucson and New York City was over. Then we stopped seeing Gene at the club. Bill was the one who noticed it, “we haven’t seen Gene in long time” he said. But I had heard from Natalie he and Marty bought a house. So I figured that fixing up the house was occupying all his energy.

Finally last year we saw Gene at public pool for first time after very long time. He told us all about the house. He had really lucked out. The son of a prominent Tucson businessman had bought a dream house up in the foothills when he got married. But the marriage didn’t work out, she moved to Oregon, and he sold the house at a bargain price to Marty and Gene. They have a whole acre and most beautiful house in world, and views so great, they can see Benson off in the distance. It is in the country, up in the hills. When we saw Gene 2 weeks ago he said “it is just me and the bobcats and the rattlesnakes.” Bill told me that night “what a change for a boy from Chelsea to be up there with bobcats and rattlesnakes.”

We had seen him at end of last summer and he said he had landscaped all of it, put in a million plants, and miraculously saved all of them even tho we had heat between 113 and 120 all month of July. I knew Gene was genius landscaper because when he lived with Natalie he had planted 100 rose bushes for her. Plus he had gotten chickens and they had fresh eggs every day and gave eggs to their neighbors. There is really nothing Gene can’t do.

When we saw Gene at public pool last year he said he is very lonely. I knew all about that 3 year turning point. I said “this is when your friends from New York City stop calling and every time you call them they are busy.” “Yes” Gene said “yes.” And before he has made new friends in Tucson. “All I can suggest Gene is watch old movies, that is what I did, day and night.”

When I saw him two weeks ago, he said it has gotten even lonelier, now Nat won’t speak to him, and Marty has not come out for a whole year. I forgot about that. When your New York City friends stop calling and each time you call them they are busy, you still have your first friends in Tucson. Then they all move away or break up with you. That is what is happening to Gene now, his first friends in Tucson are moving away, and his closest friend Natalie won’t speak to him.

But I looked at Gene’s face and he is a transformed person. His eyes are completely clear, his face is completely clear, he is perfectly beautiful. He was a mess when he first arrived from New York City. It is a long purification process Gene is going thru. If he can make it thru the boredom and the loneliness he will be new man. He is already a new man. And when that is completed he will find friends in Tucson naturally. It all happens naturally. He needs this time now, altho he doesn’t realize it.

The solution which emerged for me was to get interested in the news, and go on internet. But that solution won’t work for Gene because it is what he did before he left New York City. That was his New York City life, that, and schmoozing with his friends on the telephone all the time. My life in NYC was being a writer and schmoozing on the phone all the time. So Gene and I exchanged places. I became interested in news and got on internet. And Gene has become a writer. “I have already written 465 pages” Gene said. I think it is wonderful Gene found writing.

It’s funny because when I was in the exact same place Gene is, my NYC friends had stopped calling, my Tucson friends either broke up with me or moved away, I did meet a girl at Udall pool. We chit-chatted in the lane as we swam back and forth. And I knew she was a perfect friend for me. We talked about books, and she said “Angela’s Ashes, that was great,” and assumed I had read it. I had heard of it, so I said “it is great.” I finally did read Angela’s Ashes last week and it is great, just as great as she said it was. And I knew I could have made a move to make her my friend then. It was before I was on internet or email but I could have offered to exchange phone numbers, or made some move. But I let her slip thru my fingers. That is when I realized I wasn’t ready for friends yet. That secretly I liked this big space in my life without friends. And I think that is what Gene is going thru now.

Because when I told him about the writers meeting at Barnes and Noble for free on 3rd Wednesday of every month, he really wasn’t interested. And last summer when he was so desperately lonely I reminded him everyone at the club loves him, but he said he doesn’t have the money. Bill enjoys Gene’s friendship and always hopes Gene will be at the pool so he can have someone to talk to, but Gene never shows up. And I noticed in the parking lot two weeks ago, as overjoyed as Gene was to see us, it didn’t occur to him, when I said “I have gone back to my writing,” to say “let’s exchange emails and send each other our new writing.” He let me and Bill slip thru his fingers, just as I had done with the wonderful woman I met at Udall pool, even tho I knew she was the perfect new friend for me.

my Tucson friend Layla put her paintings up for view and sale on the web
I copy some of my favorite ones to this blog

if you want to see more of Layla's paintings go here http://laylaedwards.com/

if you want to purchase one and want friends' discount

tell Layla you are my friend (Anne from Tucson) or that you found her paintings on my blog

Frenchie

Linda takes photo of her friend Marilyn with her new dog Oggi

Introducing Oggi

















Photo by Linda Gallop


"The French Are Very Nice"
Friday July 14 2006

Bastille Day. I guess back in New York City Micheline is on her way right now to drink a glass of champagne at the French embassy. John met Micheline when she was an au pair girl in New York. I think his friend was dating a French girl and she brought along Micheline, and John met her, and they have been together ever since. Micheline has very short hair but she had worn a fall on her date and John was attracted to her long hair.



Micheline was actually born on a houseboat on the Seine but her father went to Heaven early in World War 2, and Micheline and her sister and her mother lived in factory district of Paris. I think Micheline’s first job was one of the seamstresses for the couturier house in Paris. She didn’t want to live in France anymore, she could not make up her mind between Switzerland or USA, but she got job as au pair girl here in USA and came to New York City. Where she met John. John is Italian from Brooklyn and grew up in Canarsie. His father was a mechanic and owned a garage, and of course John planned to be a great mechanic too and work in the garage. He has sisters and brothers. He did not get high enough grades to matriculate at Brooklyn College so he had to go to Night School. Altho I think he registered at day school anyway, and went to school there, till they caught up with him and made him go to night school.



I am surprised now, when I look at it, how little I know of each of their backgrounds, I thought I knew it so well. I would take my dog to Tompkins Square Park in the mornings and if John was there with his dog, I’d walk around the park with John; if Micheline was there with the dog, I’d walk around with Micheline. Whatever I learned was from the chit-chats on these walks. I thought I knew so much, but now I see I don’t know anything. I think Micheline wanted a parrot and she wanted a dog and her mother said “when you are grown up and have your own apartment you can have both of them.”



Altho Micheline does not seem emotional she is more emotional than she seems. When she took her dog to East River Park, she got into argument with a German girl there. I don’t know what the argument was about, maybe her dog, but Micheline got mad and upset and at the end she yelled at the girl “you killed my father.” And when Margaret Thatcher came over from England to meet with Reagan, and John said complimentary things about her, “Nancy is so scrawny, you could tell Reagan liked putting his arms around Margaret Thatcher” -- Micheline’s whole comment on it was, “we French have not forgotten what the English did to Jeanne d’Arc.” She was still mad about it.



Mainly I was involved hearing about Micheline’s current life. She was a happy girl. She had her bicycle and went everywhere on her bicycle. She decided to go back to school. You can’t go to college unless you are able to pass a math test, so John set out to teach Micheline math. She had a math block. I never understood what a block was, until I tried to teach Micheline something she wasn’t able to get, as we were walking our dogs. It was something simple and obvious, but her mind froze up and she couldn’t see it. I broke it down into its simplest parts, until the question was practically “what is one plus one?” When Micheline answered “minus one” I knew she had math block and I gave up.



But the girl has persistence, and next thing I knew she was taking college courses. Her first assignment was to write a biography. Her French accent was so thick, there was no way I could figure out the word she was saying was biography. I tried a few times to figure out the word but gave up. So then she continued, “I wrote a biography of the bicycle, did you know the bicycle was invented by the French.” Micheline loved college. Her majors were French, and American Literature.



We had a tiny contretemps once. On our walks she would complain the whole walk, how America is bad and France is better. One day she said “in France if you speak French poorly they will correct you.” “But” she said “here, no one corrects me on my English.” I was surprised that was one of her complaints, here in America we consider it rude to correct someone’s pronunciation, but she made it clear that is what she wanted. So the next time she pronounced a word which was unrecognizable in English, I corrected her pronunciation. And she was furious. I knew it was a rude thing to do. Because of her accent I couldn’t get every word she said in sentence but enough words to understand what she was saying. Most of her mistakes were charming. When the park police were giving us all tickets for dog-off-the-leash, Micheline said “Anne, watch out, they are here, they are all on their talkie-walkies.”



John could not speak a word of French and when Micheline’s sister called from France, since she could not speak English and John could not speak French, they were unable to say one word to each other. One time John’s mother came to visit, and his brother came to protect his mom. John said his brother brought his gun.



Our neighborhood was bad neighborhood then, altho now I hear it is fancy-schmancy. John had bought a building when the neighborhood was an atrocious dangerous slum. He bought the building for idealistic purposes. John is an idealist. He planned to sell the apartments for $200 each, 1/3 to Puerto Ricans, 1/3 to blacks, and 1/3 to whites, which is maybe what he did. Those little apartments are co-ops. He kept two of the tiny apartments for him and Micheline, one above the other. And of course Micheline decorated the apartment as if she lived in Paris, she washed her windows till they were sparkling and put white lace curtains on them. John got nothing but grief from his idealistic adventure. When one of the Puerto Ricans was sent to jail, he told John “if you touch my stuff I’ll kill you when I get out.” He never paid any of the money he was supposed to pay. They did have meetings about things which needed to be bought for building or done to the building, and the meetings were always acrimonious. John is the mildest of all people, I never heard him raise his voice, but he is stubborn. It is from Micheline I learned how stubborn Sicilians are.



I think when I met John he was already going to graduate school at the New School. When he finished he looked for a job. It was the middle of steamy New York City summer during a heat wave, and Micheline said, “it is so silly he is wearing his 3 piece suit.” And sure enough there was John, in woolen jacket, vest, and pants, coming from a job interview. The book on how-to-find-a-job had said "wear a 3 piece suit.”


John eventually landed a job which drove him crazy. His job was the identical experience of being driven crazy by all the fellow cooperators in his building. It was some project funded by the City to help people in the Bronx, but everyone on the job and everyone involved drove each other crazy.



When John couldn’t take it anymore, he switched jobs, to another job which drove him crazy. It was the same kind of deal, but this time for the Orthodox in Brooklyn. The rabbi drove John crazy, ditto the rabbi’s daughter. Obviously that is what John likes, he likes all these ins and outs of people relationships, and being driven crazy. And coming up with ideas of how to manipulate them to do what he wants, just as he does with his fellow cooperators.



John uses manipulation to get what he wants but for good purposes not bad purposes, to carry out his idealist vision for everyone’s best interests. I will say that for John, he always has his eye on the ball, he is single focused in accomplishing whatever good he is determined to accomplish. “Maybe you are the reincarnation of Machiavelli” I told him one day when we were walking our dogs, when he went over with me another strategy he was using so things could be accomplished.



All of this was meat and drink to John but Micheline was the opposite. Her life was completely simple and straight forward. She loved nature, and even tho you’d think Manhattan doesn’t have any nature, Micheline found it wherever she went. When John and Micheline visited us in Tucson she told me how she had seen a dove in Central Park. And when we walked around Tompkins Square Park, I would always hear about the nature she had seen.



Because my neighbor was French, Micheline would come and visit my neighbor and then drop in on me. Micheline and Catherine were not the same. Catherine’s whole life was clothes, perfume, lipstick, and jewelry. Catherine is the one who told me, “all a woman needs to wear, Anne, is lipstick and earrings, that brings sparkle to her face.” So I decided to buy a lipstick. I told Micheline, but Micheline said “why should I wear lipstick, who am I going to kiss!” She scoffed. Micheline wore no make-up and only wore simple clothes, good for riding a bike.



Occasionally Catherine and Micheline would have a fight and then Catherine reported “Micheline won’t speak to me now.” Catherine always explained the fight, as “Micheline is not a ‘de’, she feels inferior to me.” (But do you think that is Micheline?) Catherine’s background was different. She actually grew up in Morocco because her father was assigned to NATO there, and her parents were always attending balls and dinners at the French ambassador’s mansion in Morocco. But I think Catherine and Micheline liked each other even tho they were so different. I have to say based on my two experiences of getting to know French people up close and personal the French are very nice.