29 Jul

I’m sitting in the green bowl of my backyard saying goodbye. Drinking gin and tonics, smoking Dominican cigars, reading interviews with Danny Rubin (Groundhog Day) and Carole Eastman (Five Easy Pieces). At odd moments I expel a breath of air – like a dying man or a leaking inner tube. White moths flutter about. When I approach they flee.

Where am I going? My family is frightened half to death. I have to balance being both the villain and savior. I don’t know where I’ll live, I don’t know if the status quo will be supported. What I do know is I won’t support the family fear. Ann and Devon will either have to limp behind the covered wagon or get felled by arrows – it’s their choice.

I twist my head from side to side and I can feel the gristle crackle and complain in my neck. The house I’m looking at – I could torch it and not feel a thing. The house is not me. What is me is work and the future.

I watch a dandelion seed – white – drift through the air. I carefully plot its course. When I see it land in the grass I move to pick it up but I can’t find it. Why? In the air it had tremendous presence. On the ground it’s invisible.

Ann is inside making dinner. We’ll eat and watch Magnolia. I told Ann it’s a movie about people making contracts with their own death. It remains to be seen whether she’ll watch it.

The hours before I leave for LA are ticking off.




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