It was the late 60's when I became intrigued with car racing. Watkins Glen track was my first and it was a great place to start. Not only is the Glen one of the most famous race tracks, the race was a Formula One race. F1 is the pinnacle of racing and is what most open-wheel race car drivers strive for, only the very best race Formula One.

The new V12 Honda was making it's debut at the Glen this year and like many others, I strived for a close look at the car. I nudged my way to the car and wound up standing directly behind it, staring straight into the exhaust pipes. Well, they fired it up and standing behind the exhaust turned out to be the wrong place, knocked me over backwards and it took quite a while to get my head to stop spinning from the exhaust fumes. But hey, I was young and crazy, so it was all worth it.

Next up was Mosport in Canada, again another F1 race. I don't remember much about this race except shorts, black socks and loafers. Not on me, but very prevalent in Canada at that time. I'm sure the style has changed by now.

After moving to Clearwater, Florida in my senior year of high school, a story for another time, I went to another couple of very famous tracks - Daytona and Sebring.

Sebring was and still is, a twelve hour race, starting at noon. There was a ferris wheel across from the start line. I sat and timed it then calculated when to get on so I would be at the top when the race started, told you I was a little fanatical. It worked, a spectacular view of the start, and they don't start races like that anymore.

This was when they still used LeMans starts. Drivers would line up on one side of the track and their cars on the other. At the signal they would sprint to their cars, start the motors and take off with a deafening roar in a cloud of burning rubber, makes my heart pound just thinking about it. An amazing, once in a lifetime experience.

I had also decided I had to get into the pits, you know, just to round out the experience. Found a stack of wheels near the fence that was keeping us mortals out of the pits. Picking the top tire from over the fence, I walked into the pits, the tire on my shoulder, I was in. And, yes, I put the tire back.

It was a very exciting place to be, with all the famous drivers and owners just feet away - Dan Gurney, Jim Hall, Mario Andretti just to name a few. The race was won by Jim Hall and Hap Sharp driving one of Hall's Chaparrals, cars that were know because their innovations and contributions to the sport of car racing. He was the first to use a high rear wing and even tried adding a fan to produce more downforce by sucking the car to the track. This was quite an era for sports car racing.

I even shook hands with the legendary Carroll Shelby, of Cobra cars fame, one of only two people I ever wanted to shake hands with. The other was Mohammed Ali and yes, I did. Side note: I also stood side-by-side with Ali at a urinal in Las Vegas and no, I did not compare parts.

The race ended, I needed a quite place to sleep, wasn't going home until morning, so I got my sleeping bag and jumped a fence that put me next to the track - a mistake. A few cars found there way onto the track and probably in a drunken stupor, decided to try their hand at racing. I woke to see head lights coming straight at me, luckily they made the turn. I went back over the fence.

Daytona turned out to be much less eventful and aside from remembering a lot of drunken people, the only thing I remember is sleeping in a trunk, it was a big trunk, feeling it would be safest place to spend the night. I did throw something over the latch so I could not get locked in.

Go to the races and eventually getting to drive race cars in SCCA (Sports Car Club of America) came later. Having a family put an end to my racing career.

I was in Schenectady, NY visiting my father when I got the call, this call was to have a big impact on my life though I didn't know it at the time. The call was from a high school friend, Tom.

Tom said I had to come to Nashville and go to school at George Peabody College for Teachers, a part of Vanderbuilt. Not having had much luck with college, already tried two of them, I was not anxious to try again, but I still heard the drumming in my head that I had to go to college or I would amount to nothing. So I asked him why I should come, he said five women to one man, a great incentive. I said okay.

I owned a 750 Norton N15 at the time. This was a fast, lightweight motorcycle built on a Matchless frame. I was a terror on it and it had to come to Nashville with me. I bought a '58 Plymouth wagon, had to take the rest of my things making travel on a motorcycle problematic.

My father and I measured the bike and determined that part of the roof would have to be cut in order to stand the motorcycle vertically in the back of the station wagon. We cut notch in the back, built a ramp and tested the fit. This brought on a trip to the hospital having dropped the bike on my foot during the first attempt. Foot was not broken but it was discovered to have been broken on an earlier occasion. Don't remember when, but hey, could have been a number of times.

My father, ever the perfectionist, decided the notch needed a cover. He found some canvas, purchased some snaps and fashioned a removable cover. Really love that man. I was now good to go.

After reaching Nashville the Plymouth was abandoned. I was cash poor after getting signed up for George Peabody, so my first apartment in Nashville was, to say the least, on the lower end of the housing scale. The walls were an inch thick with old wallpaper. Tom, the friend from high school, and I attempted to make it livable. We steam the wall and scraped it down to bare boards, then painted it in typical hippie colors, the bathroom was bright red, we're talking fire-engine red. The balance of the apartment was a dreary, dark color that we got on sale, no one else wanted it, too ugly. You could come in at night and if the lights were on it looked like there was a gargantuan red light bulb at the back of the house. The bathroom was really red.

Wether we succeeded in making it livable or not is a matter of your take on livable.

Oh, and it was a duplex that had interesting neighbors. Cockroaches would come to our side to sleep and rest after eating their fill at the neighbors. Saying they were dirty doesn't really do them justice. I once heard them tell their kids, to get out of the grass and play in the dirt. I called social services on them.

The apartment was a railroad flat, all rooms in a line. The first room turned into a garage for my motorcycle. I built a ramp and left the front door ajar so I could drive into the garage/apartment without stopping to open anything. Was not very worried about thieves given the circumstances.

A side note on the ramp and it's stability. I was young and foolish and driving too fast most of the time. On one occasion I noticed a police officer taking more than a casual interest in the speed at which I was driving, so I decided it was time to go home. Making a mad dash for the apartment, I hit the ramp a little too fast and it collapsed leaving me on the bottom, motorcycle on top. The officer, having decided to see where I went, showed up and just laughed.

George Peabody college, like the others before it, was not for me. In the middle of a calculus class I had taken two times previously, don't ask, I decided enough, and begging the instructors pardon, I left my books on my desk, walked out and ended my college career.

Now I had to get a real job, so for a reason I can't remember, I went to Corvette Center, 510 MaGavock Street, one of the very few addresses I remember in my life. Guessing I remember this address because of the impact it had on me.

I was a hippie at this time, long hair and all, and from New York. I wasn't sure what to expect upon entering one the bastions of real southern "folks", a body shop in Nashville. Incredibly, I got a job, always wondered why but never asked.

Learned a lot at Corvette Center - how to work with fiberglass, rebuild wreaked Corvettes, how to paint cars. They taught me well and eventually accepted me - we were officially friends.

Evidence of that happened one day when a few of us were in a bar eating lunch. The bartender pulled out a gun and announced he was going to get him a hippie. After a quick look around, I realized that hippie was me. The guys from the body shop immediately stood up in front of me and said "He's our hippie" and that abruptly ended the confrontation. Stating the obvious, I was relieved.

They had always called me the goddamn yankee, but after that incident, they shortened it to Yank and I have been called Yank ever since, a name I feel I earned.

I was writing a quick bio yesterday and thought about all the jobs I have worked at and businesses I have owned. Some of the jobs are just that, jobs you get just to make some money. Other were starts of occupations, which as it turns out, I never really followed and single one for long for long. I really don't have an occupation. I have painted cars, published a magazine, owned a pool hall, put on shooting sports events, built websites, all these in different directions.

A long time ago a hypnotherapist pointed out to me that my businesses were based on me being the best in that arena, an arena I enjoyed, and once I achieved that goal, I moved on. The big problem with this is that I never considered money a major component. When I went into building websites, it to make money and it has been one of the least satisfying of all the things I have done, it has however, been one of the best at making a living.

So there you have it and now in my sixties, still looking looking for a business that I like that will challenge me and make money at the same time. Hopefully it will happen in my lifetime. That said, here are the businesses and jobs I can remember, with some of the highlights of that particular endeavor, pretty much in chronological order.

Just Jobs, you know, the ones you do growing up
Busboy and a resort in the Berkshires
Flipping burgers at Bike's Burger Bar, Ft. Collings, CO

Schenectady New York
Kirby vacuum salesman
Construction
Driving a beverage delivery truck
Kitchen - Cork & Cleaver

Nashville
Pizza delivery
Corvette Center
Learned basic body work
Learned to repair Corvettes
Learned to paint

New Orleans
Grain Elevator - shoveled overflow
Laid fiberglass for sailboats

Madison, WI
Built dune buggy bodies

Real Life Businesses

Moon Dog Enterprises - Boulder, CO
Paint & body work
Complete lacquer paint jobs
Custom Paint
Custom body work
Suspension upgrades
Cafe Races / Custom Cars

Jewelry Sales
Certified Diamond Appraiser

Yankee Lady Billiard Parlor

Los Angeles
National Performance Center
National Sales Manager
Recaro Automotive Seat Distributor

Teazer Auto Exotica
Automotive custom shop catering to the movie industry
Custom stereo system
Custom Interiors
One of the first to sell and install cellular phone for cars
ETAK (predecessor to GPS navigation) - Main Southern California sales, service and installation

Matches Magazine - owner, publisher and editor
Designed and produced magazine for shooting sports

International Shooting Association - owner
Designed, managed, and produced shooting sports event for television
1994 - ProShootOut, ESPN special event
1994 & 1995 Speedweek - 9 day shooting event with numerous disciplines
1996 - ProShootout
1997 & 1998 - ProAm Shootout
1997 - LAPD Team Challenge, hosted at the LAPD Police Academy
This show was aired on the Outdoor Channel for over six years

Teazer Graphics
Build, maintain and host websites
Built and maintained Professional Bull Riders (PBR) in house database and website

Nashville, once again, had gotten to the point where I had to leave. Strung out on drugs again, living to close to the edge and really testing my luck, I had to leave. So my running mate and fellow junkie, Bobby, and I decided to go to California via Boulder, Colorado. I had heard Boulder was a good place for hippies and we really needed to clean out. And changing our surroundings would help keep us away from the dope we could get so readily in Nashville. So I bought a 1965 Chevy Van rented a trailer and we got ready to leave.

Bobby had an Austin Healey Bug Eye Sprite, a small, english sports car. I had four Harley Davidson hardtail frames, a dune buggy mold and other assorted tools and parts. All in all, a fairly large load, and as we were to find out, a little too large.

The trailer I had rented, had sides and it was a little too big to drive the car straight in, so we lowered and tilted the trailer, built a couple ramps, and drove the Bug Eye into it, sort of. The last few feet, car just dropped in. It was in but we knew it was going to be dodgy getting it out. We added the frames and other items around the car and then strapped the dune buggy mold to the top of the trailer.

Throwing our personal items, which were minimal, in the back of the van, we were on the road. And just to make sure we made the most of all our space, we picked up a couple that were hitching west with their dog.

The first day brought a couple revelations, one we could not drive during the day with out overheating and two, the engine leaked engine oil, badly. We stopped at an auto parts store and bought a case of the cheapest oil they had and napped until dark.

Still on the first day and we had gone a hundred miles at best. Driving at night was better, the engine didn't overheat and the van was the version that had the motor between the driver and passenger. You serviced the motor from inside the car by lifting a lid. We found we were able to add oil without stopping, so things were looking good. Then we had our first of seven flat tires. We did have a spare and when the sun came out, a new, used tire was found and mounted. We got some sleep and started rolling again when the sun set.

Bobby and I were both jonesing from from the lack of dope, but unbeknownst to each other, we both had a small stash. So we remained relatively stable. Our guests left us somewhere in Kansas, guess they felt that was the safer thing to do.

More flats, more oil, more night driving, but we were making progress and on the morning of day three we drove into Boulder. We pulled into an iHop got out, heard the leak of a tire, slid the extended jack under the van, and went to eat. We had gotten very proficient at changing tires.

After some food and another tire change, we rented a motel room that was just down the street. We did not want to tempt fate too much longer. The motel even had a pool.

We were very tired and both of us had used up our respective stashes, we new things were going to get a little tense. Figured a dip in the pool and a long sleep in a bed, we might just be okay. Went out and dove in one end the end of the pool and immediately came out the other end - it was not heated and it we were in Colorado - way too cold. Not good.

The next day, after fourteen hours of sleep, we went about empting the trailer. Turns out we couldn't get the car out the way it went in. It took two wreckers, one at each end to lift the Healey out of the trailer. The trailer went back to UHaul and two days later, Bobby went back to Nashville, he couldn't quit the dope. I never saw or heard from him again, very sad.

I was to lose more friends to drugs in the following years. Considering I was doing pretty much the same thing, it's luck or maybe fate, maybe karma, I will never know or sure, but I'm still here.

I was visiting my father in Portland and for a reason I cannot remember, decided to drive back to Boulder, Colorado, where I lived at the time. Having flown to Portland, I would need a car for not a lot of money, being as usual I was monetarily challenged.

Found a '59 Ford Galaxy for sale in my price range, so I went to check it out. The owner backed the Ford out of his upwards, this will be relevant shortly, sloped driveway and took me for a test ride. The car ran okay so I bought it.

My father also had a sloped driveway but unlike the previous driveway, his was slopped downwards. After pulling headfirst into the driveway, I needed to move the Ford. Stuck it in reverse and it went no-where, it did not have a reverse gear. The owner had put it in reverse and coasted out of his driveway. I only paid $75 for the car and was planning to get rid of it back in Boulder, so I did not pursue any remedies. I just had to remember to park it where I could get out without reverse, no big deal.

I left for Colorado in the dead of winter and shortly lost first and second gears. I would be doing mostly highway driving, I could make it with only one gear, at least it was third gear.

There is something I have to say at this point about my driving habits, I don't like to stop. If I am going somewhere, I tend to drive straight through. Have always tried to break myself of that but so far, still have not succeeded.

Somewhere in Wyoming around four in the morning I ran into a blizzard and was out in the middle of nowhere. Couldn't see fifty feet, almost a white out, but not wanting to stop for fear of freezing, I motored on. Nothing showed up for a long time, I was almost out of gas and was starting to get a little worried. Finally found a gas station but, it being around 5am, the station was closed. Even to me, the storm and lack of gas made it prudent to stay there until they opened. Ran the car only when it got too cold and hypothermia was imminent. I survived until the station opened, refilled the tank and got back on the highway.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, stopped in Aspen for a couple days and quickly figured out that this was not a place for me and my lack of funds. Besides, I painted cars at the time and the market seemed pretty slim, so I went back to Boulder and my little shop.

The old Ford made it, getting me safely home...

I had a customer, Charlie, who owned a 1963, split-window Corvette that he loved dearly. I painted that car, one of the best paint jobs I have ever done, it was a smooth as glass. Charlie and I became very good friends.

So good in fact, that he introduced me to Lynne, the first woman I asked to marry me, she said no. It turned out she was in a love/hate relationship with Charlie and would eventually marry him. But I got a friend for life, Lynne, and a dog out of the deal.

Lynne raised pure bread German Shepherds. She had a litter and named one of them Charlie so she could yell at him, instead of the real Charlie. I took the dog and bonded with him quickly. He was my first and only dog, was my friend and would later protect my family though he would not do the same for me.

Charlie also had a thing for Buick Rivieras and I would buy them as he tired of them. The first was a '64 with a 425 horsepower V8, in which he laid the longest patch I have ever seen. At least a quarter mile, tires smoking all the way. Next was a 67, then a 69 as I recall. The '64 is on the list of cars I wish I had now, it's worth a lot of money now.

I bought a 1970 Pontiac Trans Am, one of my top three favorite cars. It had the 400 cubic in small block that was rated at 370 hp. Charlie, in the '63 Split Window and me in the TA, would chase each other thru the Rockies at great speed, I was always in the rear. This was because he was crazy behind the wheel, I mean really crazy. He would even scare me.

On many mornings, Charlie would show up and tell me is was nine and time to get up. I would discover too late that it was always much earlier. I should have figured that one out but maybe it was just nice to play along with him. We played cribbage constantly, went for too many runs to count, concerts (he was a record promoter) and generally were counted as one for a long time.

All this slowed when I got married, but he married Meril-Jean and myself in a ceremony at our home. He was one of those paper based minister so it was relatively on the up and up. Not one of most the reverent weddings in history, but we were married.

Life with Charlie had serious ups and downs. Meril-Jean told me he tried to rape her. I did not believe her which was a rarity. Just a short time ago, Aimee, my daughter, confirmed MJ's story. Looking back on it now, I think he was mad a MJ for changing our previous relationship. I was blind to many things when it came to Charlie.

Lynne divorced Charlie and our relationship took a serious turn for the worse. See, knowing him, I had to side with Lynne in the custody battle for their daughter. He never forgave me for that.

Charlie was later killed when his car slid off the road in Northern California. He was really out there and had serious flaws but I still miss that man. I walked his daughter down the isle at her wedding, just a little symmetry in a very strange relationship, and hopefully made him smile if there is an afterlife.

Discovery - getting rid of all you own is much harder that moving everything.

Using craigslist, eBay and a yard sale, thanks Roc, I managed to sell about $1,500 worth of my stuff. I was very surprised to find that I had acquired a lot of stuff, really a lot of stuff especially for a single man. Where did it all come from and why did I move it to and from Denver on that last 4 year stint for the PBR (Professional Bull Riders).

Turns out there are a lot of flakes on craigslist, can't begin to tell you how many people said they were coming and did not. The ones who did got spectacular deals on what they bought. Another thing of note, I told everyone who bought a heavy object to bring a helper, none did. I helped carry, much to my back's dismay, a 42" plasma TV, a 26" tube TV, a treadmill, pieces of a very large desk and numerous other items down 2 flights of stairs. I know, ultimately, it was good for me.

Anyway, after the aforementioned sales, I still had a lot left. The things I wanted to save but not haul around with me only took up five small boxes. Don't know whether that it good packing or a sad commentary on my life.

Going through all the things I own was good though. Found many letters and other things that reminded me of happy times and that my daughters love, and have loved, me for a long time.

Also found many things that reminded me of the life I have led. I will add them to the other section of all this when time permits.

Now, on the last day in LA, a couple more lessons were learned. See this is becoming, even at the tender at of 61, a learning experience. First, do not trust the Salvation Army to pickup what they said they would. The leader of the pair of gentlemen assigned to pickup my remaining stuff keep saying "We're not movers".

They took the mattress, left the bed frame (lighter that the mattress), took boxed clothes, left clothes on hangers and did not take the refrigerator. I had a lot of stuff left. A junk pickup company had come earlier in the morning and removed a very bad couch. I had to call them and beg them to come back one more time. Luckily they were on their way back to Orange County but were still on the 405 relatively new my place. $300 later, my apartment was empty.

I loaded the car, every available spot was filled, including the passenger seat where I put a big PBR gear bag. Just so it felt a little homier, I put a Red Sox hat on the duffle next to me. Hey, at least I had someone to talk to in all that mess.

Took a shower, walked down the stairs for the last time and had a big jolt go through me - there was no going back. It was all gone.

I was on my way...

A change of plans and it was off to Kentucky instead of Denver. Denver just felt too much like a been there, done that to have that be the first stop.

First thing I noticed was that adding around 400 pounds to the Mustang really changes the handling, the ride height, and subsequently the shock travel. Got used to it and it worked okay in a straight line, albeit a little harsher over bumps.

Had decided to take I-40, I thought I hadn't taken that route before. Got 50 miles or so on the highway and it all looked familiar, and my daughter Aimee had something to do with it. I called her and sure enough, I had driven her (and her things) to Boulder after her divorce, in a U-Haul and car trailer.

Now here is one of my failings when it comes to driving, if I am going somewhere I like to get there as soon as possible. If I am going nowhere, I can take my time. The going straight through habit, after this trip, has been broken. I am no longer young enough to handle it, and I need to, if you will excuse the expression, slow down and smell the roses.

Set my normal pace, and was making great time. Made it to Flagstaff before my eyes were having trouble focusing so I pulled over in a rest stop to catch a couple hours of sleep - mistake. Those of you that know me, know I no longer want to be cold, ever. Well, forgot to take into account that the elevation in Flagstaff is almost 7,000 feet. Woke up in about an hour freezing, I was back on the road again if only to get warm.

As the sun started to come up and the temperature with it, I stopped again and caught a couple hours sleep. A sleeve of plastic doughnuts, a tank full of gas and I was rolling again.

I have a friend, Steve, a professional photographer and he is always yelling (and I do mean yelling) for me to take pictures, any pictures, good or bad. I had my camera with me, batteries charged so I started looking for things/places to shoot. Found a few places and took a few pictures which I are posted.

This new found thing to do had an untended consequence - a ticket for $160, forgot to keep my eyes open for the state troopers. He took off 10 mph to get me down from $260. A nice officer, we had a pleasant chat all things considered.

The far side of Arizona and New Mexico are boring, seriously after you have seen a few mesas all that is left is dirt, scrub brush and rocks. I took a picture that says it all. It will post with the others. Now Albuquerque is a nice looking city, they add color to the public works so that even going under an overpass is a pleasure.

The other thing experienced almost the whole way is wind, high wind, wind all the time, did not stop blowing until I hit St. Louis, were do to my deteriorating eyesight, I stopped for the night.

Woke up the next day almost feeling like a new man, and pushed on. I new I could make Covington KY before 11 so I went for it. All went smoothly until I got to the last exit, the exit to my step-mothers house, the exit I always miss for some reason. Made the exit but turned the wrong way, nailed a curb with both tires. The car is now in the shop waiting on 2 new, special for the Bullitt, tires.

Okay, lessons learned on the leg of my adventure. Do not drive so long, for the want of a few hours and a couple dollars saved, I spent 4 times as much on new tires. Take my time, take a look around and don't overload the car, ship some of the baggage.

I missed, well after Arizona and New Mexico, a number of things that might have been interesting to see - the world's biggest something, can't remember what exactly. I did, however, take a picture of the largest cross in the western hemisphere, so they advertised.

Lost it when I walked into my fathers house, first time since he died. Very hard, miss him so much. Spent the night trying to figure out how to deal with it, can't be here in that state for weeks. So here's what I came up with - being here, I am closer to him, his memory, the place he lived for many years - enjoy that feeling. Yes, I will lose it a few more times, but need to get on with my life, he would want that.

Get to see my sisters and nephews, of which there are quite a few, so that will be fun.

Also, have a bunch of work to do, so going to rent an office as soon as I get my car back. Then, I think, Savannah. Who knows for sure.

Let there be sleep...

Walking into my father's house for the first time since his death was pretty traumatic, as expected. But I have to deal with this, I have been avoiding it for four years. I think I have a handle on it but still lose it from time to time.

It is great to see my step-mom, she is wonderful to me and makes me feel more than welcome. I also have three sisters close by and it's great to visit with them and all the nieces and nephews. This is place I feel a lot of love. But why does it have to be so cold and rainy, no golf for now.

Having lived in LA for 27 years, Kentucky offers many new changes. First and foremost, it's cold. Now I know it's that time of the year, but in the summer it is hot and humid.

This is the first time my car has been rained on and as I write this, 3 more inches are do anytime.
I haven't worn long pants in over a year. Now I am wearing them and sweaters, soon to be jackets.
There is more pollen, even at this time of the year, sinus problems.

But that being said, the leaves are changing color and falling off the trees, making for a nice change and it is nice to see the rain.

I went back to look at the curb I hit when I blew my right side tires, just wasn't big enough to have done that much damage until I remembered I had added 400 or 500 pounds to the car. Anyway, I now have two, new right side tires.

Bubba Fest, a legend around here, started life as a small gathering of friends to eat, drink, and ride around on ATVs, bikes, etc. and is scheduled for this weekend. It has grown to the point that people travel for many miles to attend, and it now charges an admittance fee. They tell me that it is not as bad as it sounds, but I will not be attending. Beside not really liking the raw outdoors, it has been raining and will be raining for days, making the Bubba Fest a mud bowl. Nope, not for me. Those days have passed, actually quite a while ago, I now consider the Holiday Inn roughing it.

It was a mud fest. My sister and her husband came back with stories of knee high mud and numerous cars, truck and other assorted vehicles that had to be pulled out the the mire. But both came home safe, even though my brother in law was a little worse for wear, seems one of the beverages at Bubba Fest was moonshine. Life in the South.

Another indication that I was no longer in LA came tonight on the evening news. Now, I try not to watch the news, I find it just too depressing, especially coming from LA. But the lead story in tonight's news brought me a new light on events from other parts of the country. The story, which had teasers all night, was of a local, favorite restaurant that had been robbed. They had interviews with the managers and customers, showed how they think the robbers got into the building, the whole nine yards. Near the end of the story, they mentioned the amount stolen - $2,500. Cracked me up...

Well, my little black cloud is still there, fraud cleaned out my bank account. I am trying to open new accounts using California ID, moving my business to Florida and am in Kentucky. Turns out it is difficult but doable. The upside is that this happened while staying in a place where I am loved and wanted.

So the next leg has been postponed, looking like after Thanksgiving, partially because my step-mom is pretty insistent that I stay until then. But it's getting even colder, and cold makes my body hurt.

Let me start this off by saying I'm talking about the Northern Kentucky, Cincinnati area. My sister and brother-in-law have a place and a boat, on Lake Cumberland and say it's beautiful. It was too cold the day they went down to winterize their boat, so I didn't go and will have to take their word on the beautiful part. They have good taste, so I believe them.

This area seems to be stuck somewhere between new and old. A lot of new building, many fast food chains but with a feel that it has not settled into a new rhythm. Not sure I can adequately describe what I mean, need to be a better writer. But that's the feeling I get around here. I do not like it here, not comfortable, feels very depressing, and I am already depressed.

People drive slowly here and there always seems to be traffic, not LA traffic, but a steady stream of vehicles, all driving slowly. They are use to this so they feel they can pull out in front of you and it will be okay, they are assuming you are driving slowly also. I'm not such a driver but have had to adjust. And people always dish LA drivers but they are more considerate that Kentucky drivers. No one will let you merge.

And they do not like Californians. I have had enough pickups up my butt to last a lifetime. It could be the car, rare and it's a hot rod of sorts, but I think it the California license plates, of which I am proud.

So taking into consideration the aforementioned items, I can see no reason to live here. It's cold in the winter but no snow, a waste of cold if you ask me. And hot and humid in the summer.

That said, this was a good, probably necessary, stop. I have worked out my father's death in my mind. I still miss him all the time, but I know that all the good I have in me came from him and he is still with me. Always my safety zone, always on my side.

It was, and is, since I have been informed that I can't leave until after Thanksgiving, great to see my sisters, nieces and nephews. My step-mother has made me feel welcome and loved daily - a very nice feeling to have. After living alone for so long, it is a bit overwhelming when they all get together, but they are good people.

My money and banking problems have almost gotten back to relative normalcy. And with me, normal is a little off kilter most of the time anyway, so I should be okay. But the adventure shall continue, or more accurately begin.

Another thing I have realized is that I want to live in one of two types of places - urban and the very quite.

I really enjoyed living in LoDo in Denver. LoDo is a revitalized warehouse district, a lot of lofts, Coors field, Pepsi Center and restaurants galore, all within walking distance of where I lived. I would be sitting at my computer working and say screw it, get up and walk to a ball game.

They had a lot of free music, some of which had high profile bands. Once a summer they would close off about ten blocks or so and put bands at each corner. This would last three days. But, always a but, too hot or too cold and no air. The air in Colorado has no quality to it, harsh all the time.

But I digress, that's the urban style of life I enjoyed, just need good weather to go with it.

The quiet I experience on Cape Cod. We, my mother and more recently my kids, have been going a for a long time to the same community. I do their website. My mother has been every year of her live except one. She has a house there. I went myself from year one to year sixteen, the same location - the Baringer cottage which was built by my great-grandmother in 1915, or something like that.

Again wandering off subject. So here it what I am wanting in quite - you walk outside at night and all you can hear are the night birds and the waves lapping gently on the beach. No traffic, no sirens, no trains, no voices late into the night. And dark, no street lights, no traffic signals, nothing but the stars. If there is no moon, it is black, so dark you cannot see four feet in front of you. This is quiet.

So this is what I am looking for in the places I am going - urban or quiet.

In Savannah, which is still my next stop, I think urban is the way to go. The old southern experience or so I hope. Have started to look for a place on-line but may just go, get a place/hotel for a week or so and look for the right place. I know myself, if I'm not in the middle of it, I won't do it. And change is what this is about.

In Florida, next after Savannah, I will go for quiet. The shore has been so built up that it is hard to even go to the water. And it is gorgeous, soft sand and the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico. But now it's all tourists.

Time span: 2 months, golfable days: 2

So okay, I'm in Savannah, currently staying in an extended stay, hotel with suites. First, their idea of suite is far different than mine. I expected a couple rooms, a couch or a couple comfortable chairs and a kitchenette. What I got was a small hotel room with a bed, refrigerator and a microwave. There is a bed, small table with two chairs - that's it. They advertise flat screen tv's which they have but it is mounted so that the best viewing is standing up in the center of the room. The bed or chairs are out for good viewing. So stay away from InTown Suites.

Savannah is quaint, the moss covered trees are very cool, very old south. The homes in the south historic district really do take you back to the Antebellum Period when the South was the South, the Confederacy, with tall majestic houses next to each other. You expect to see men in tall hats and southern belles in hoop skirts.

There are numerous little parks, again trees with hanging moss, surrounded by multi-story homes. But, and it seems there is always a but with my thinking, it is spread out - guessing a mile or two between the North and South (hummmm) districts. So it's a long walk start to finish which I did not do. Did I mention that I have only seen the sun once for an hour or so since I've been here - rainy and cold. And those of you that know me, know I don't like cold.

I have looked a couple apartments to rent, one an interesting place in the historic district with no parking, the other was a railroad flat just outside the southern district. The owner of the railroad flat was a very nice man and we chatted for a while as he showed me his place. In the middle of the conversation, I asked if it was safe, referring to the apartment and my computers, he took it that I was asking about the district. He said it was safe during the day but if you were coming back in the evening and looked vulnerable, you had to pay attention. Not what I wanted to hear but I guess it's the same everywhere. Oddly enough, I never really felt that in LA.

I was expecting something closer to LoDo in Denver or the French Quarter in New Orleans - a more compact community center, where you could walk everywhere. Expected more old, traditional restaurants like New Orleans. Good, old southern cooking.

Also went out to Tybee Island, a pretty normal seaside community with not much there unless you want the beach. If you do, it's great, lots of sand.

Bottom line, come to Savannah with money and stay in the Northern District in a good hotel. I did not sample the restaurants but I hear there are some really good ones.

As for me, I am outta here. I did not come to the South to be cold, and there is another front coming in. It would seem that I am being punished for leaving LA, where according to the weather channel, which I have been watching a lot, is warm with a slight chance of showers.

Checked the weather and am going to Gulf Shores Alabama where I rented a cottage on the beach. They call it the SandPiper. Numerous golf courses close by and quiet, they tell me, very quiet. I need a break, I need to play golf, I need quiet. I don't need to be staying in a shit-box hotel working on my laptop, not wanting to go out because it's cold and wet.

Leaving tomorrow, Sunday, and, in an effort to change my driving style, am planning on taking non-interstate roads all the way. I have left myself two days to make the trip, so I am not rushed.

The adventure continues...

Time span: 1 week, golfable days: 0

Having a bad day, losing what faith I had in friends, again. Just don't know what it's all about. Am in a deep funk.

Had a good friend, a person I believed in, a person I thought would always be there, a person I felt had a heart that was solid. But apparently he is gone. All I need is to hear his voice, but he will not acknowledge I exist, and I don't know why.

What did I do, I am a good human being, I know that. That's probably the only thing I truly believe about myself. Certainly have my flaws, no doubting that. Maybe it's the depression, maybe it's something I did during the two years I sat on my couch. I know a lot of people don't get it, don't understand what depression does to you. I hear all the time that if I just go for a walk, everything will get better, but I don't go. It's like I'm frozen, can't move, can't get out of my own way. But, I thought he would understand, I guess not.

Which depresses the shit out of me. Can't stop obsessing about him, can't get my mind to stop spinning. Usually, TV will give my brain a rest, or good music. But am sitting writing this music rocking from my earphones and writing this, maybe it will make me feel better, nothing so far. Just need it to stop for a little while, need to find some peace.

I was fearful of going farther than 20 miles or so from my place in LA. Just about the distance I could go and still get back if things got too bad. I was unable to get on a plane, just the thought of going to the airport made me apprehensive. Was going to say scared, but that's not it. If I went out, I always started thinking about excuses to go home, back to the safety of my home. But it wasn't much better there, I just felt safer.

Heard something, somewhere today, that painting was the way this person expressed herself. I don't have that and I miss it. I used to have a great, productive brain, but it has been beaten up so badly, my me, by my friends (?), by the depression, I just can't seem to make it work correctly.

Gonna leave Kentucky in a few days. Am sitting wondering if I have made a bad choice abandoning everything I own, not having a home. People ask me where I live and not sure what to tell them. I do miss LA and will return, it is my home. But I made a choice to change, so I will continue on. Better things will come my way, please.

I just need a break from all this, I need the thoughts racing around in my head to stop, or a least slowdown. Just for a moment.

Sorry to bother any of you that read this, just had to get it out.

Postscript: Finally got a message from the friend mentioned above, he still loves me, some amount of faith restored.

Savannah is just a memory now and I am now fifty yards from the Gulf of Mexico, on a peninsula that is maybe, at it's widest, a half mile.

The trip was okay, I tried to slow down, not make it there as fast a possible, even planed an overnight stop. Took secondary highways all the way here and stayed within fifteen miles an hour of the speed limit. The experiment in changing the way I drive was not a total success. I found myself exhausted and had to stop earlier than expected. My guess is driving the back roads only faster might be the solution. Just like going fast, makes me nuts to cruise along and smell the roses. Have to have some excitement to keep me awake.

I get my first view the Gulf of Mexico in quite a while, and it's perfect - the setting sun casting glowing, warm colors on the very still waters. This is good, maybe this detour will work. The detour comes from thinking I rented a place in Florida. On learning it was actually Alabama, I took it anyway, thus a detour. But after all, isn't that one of the components of this adventure, just going where it leads me.

Pick up my keys at the rental office and start looking for my place. Drove by it and start to turn around, promptly putting the Mustang up to the door sills in sand. Stuck, very stuck. Turns out there is only two houses, well one at that moment, with occupants.

The Mustang makes a lot of noise while trying extricate itself from seriously deep sand and it's heard by the only people in the area. Dug out the sand under my car deep enough to get a strap around a sway bar, my only neighbor pulls me out and it is free again. This place is starting to feel karmic, or possibly, very yin yang. Hoping for karmic.

The house is okay, definitely on the lower end of the beach houses. It's a three bedroom house on stilts that needs a bunch of minor repairs and it sags in the middle. Makes walking down the hall a little strange. Has a decent porch, with plastic chairs, but, hey, it's cheap, quiet and close to the water. And I can make as much noise as I want.

The first couple days are overcast or raining, but warm, shorts weather. The rain is no big thing, I have work to catch up on and have to go into town for groceries. Yesterday, fog in the morning, still warm and a postcard worthy afternoon - I hit some golf balls. Today, Thursday (I had to check) sunny but cool. More work and a quick trip into town where I got into a long conversation with a twenty-six year old, recently divorced waitress with a five year old son. She is trying to figure out what she wants to do with her life, told you it was a long conversation. I hope I helped. They are very friendly in the South. Kinda nice to interact with people again. Was pretty anti-social for the last fews years.

Today, Friday, the Blue Angels are running patterns in front of my place, really cool. It's cold so I am here instead of playing golf, again that yin yang thing.

Last night rained seriously, the infamous sheets of rain. The power went out and I could not find any candles. It was black, really black. But I discovered I am pretty well setup to handle it - two flashlights in the car and videos on the laptop. Not so bad.

Finally went for a walk on the beach, it was pretty foggy but at least it was warm and not raining.

The last couple days have been beautiful although a little cool. Relative I admit, but remember I lived in LA for the last 27 years. Played a couple rounds of golf, poorly, had to by some cheap balls today to use until my game is back in shape. Though to give myself a little break, one of the courses I played was considered to be easy.

Today, Monday, I decided to go for a short adventure - took the Fort Morgan Ferry (pictures up shortly) and then went up to Mobile. Two of the reasons for going to Mobile were the Battleship Alabama and a very highly rated BBQ joint. The BBQ joint was closed on Mondays and I got to the Battleship too late, it was also closed.

I also forgot it was the week before Christmas, the traffic was just stupid, made LA look like it must have been in the fifty's, clean and fast. If you are ever in Mobile, stay off Airport Road. It is one of the most poorly designed streets I have ever been on, barely avoided numerous instances that would have been detrimental to the Mustang.

Did however get some cheap golf balls and managed to eat some BBQ at Dreamland. The ribs were so, so in taste but thick and tender. Fixings pretty standard but the sausage was great as was the homemade banana pudding. Killer sweat tea and good service from a southern girl who called me honey, though I suspect she does that to all male patrons. Was nice to hear though...

And Christmas. Mobile made me remember that there are so many people in a bad mood this time of year. So much for the Christmas spirit.

So, I guess I'm glad I am here over the Holiday, albeit alone. It is quiet and the city of Gulf Shores is sane. I am living on a peninsula, almost to the end. This has it's own feeling, for instance it feels like you get home and then have to drive fifteen miles to your house. A little disconcerting for me. And up 'till now, I have pretty much been alone with the exception of the aforementioned neighbor. Well, I came home tonight to see people moving into the house next to me. Made me feel like they were invading my space, even though I think they own the house. Hopefully at the end of this adventure I will know where I want my living space to be in Los Angeles. Yes, I will be going back, it is my home.

I would also like some foliage, all sawgrass and sand doesn't do it for me. But when the Gulf is calm and smooth, it is just amazing. Such a large body of water, you just wouldn't think it could be that calm.

And while I'm writing, what's the deal with all the Putt-Putt golf courses in resort areas? I haven't played since, that recalls another story, get to it shortly. The Putt-Putts have to be profitable otherwise there wouldn't be so many of them. Maybe they are like car washes in LA, they all make money, some more than others, but are considered a safe investment.

The Putt-Putt story. I was young, not sure how old but young enough to have just started to date, or think about it anyway. I was at a Putt-Putt with a girl I was hoping to get to like me, we played a little and then she tossed me a ball, which led to the end of all possibilities with this particular girl. See, I took a swing at the ball, hit it solidly, the next thing it hit was the girl, square in the forehead. Then it bounced out of the golf course. She was okay, I was not. Never saw her again.

Well, made it though Christmas, not sure why I don't like it, but think it has something to do with my youth and lack of money. Will leave that for another day. It was too cold to play my traditional round of golf, so went to a movie instead, not as good. Also, business is practically nonexistent from Thanksgiving to the New Year and that doesn't help.

Noticed that the house I joked about is inhabited. I have only seen one window. That is pretty scary.

Today dawned sunny but cold, hopefully it will warm. Have to go into town for provisions, and it feels like going to get "provisions" rather than some groceries, don't like living so far away from town. Maybe it will warm up enough to hit some golf balls.

There is an upside to cold and living in other people's places, I smoke much less. I don't think I have smoked a whole cigarette in three months. Just can't stand outside long enough in the cold.

More people have come to this area for Christmas. Makes me wonder about the summer, it would be bustling but because so many are renters, would there be a sense of community. I guess it would if the same people came every summer, much like Cape Cod. This whole place seems to be based on summer.

I think I will change the Texas leg to Austin. Done with living in vacation houses on the beach, believe I need more of a social location if I am to break this cycle. I seem to get more depressed when I am locked into a place where I tend not to go out. Woke up this morning very tense.

But the next stop has to be Florida for a number of reasons, and my Mother is insisting I stay with her. That will be interesting. Living in Kentucky was different, no strings and they wanted me to stay. There is a time limit with my mother (set by her), not that I would reach it, but it's there nonetheless. I am moving my business to Florida for monetary reasons, and have to setup residency. Really hate to give up my California drivers license and don't want Florida license plates.

This traveling thing is in it's infancy, but I have to get a handle on it soon. I would be on the road by now if I had not paid for a month. Unfortunately, it looks like major changes would be based on money. We'll see...

I have been trying to judge other people ages, just to gauge where I am in my life and the other day I was eating at one of the local restaurants. In front of me were two couples and one of the couple's father. The two couples were chatting about a lot of different things, they had obviously recently met. They were talking about hairless dogs, skating in outfits from China, and to give them some credit, about some the the disabled kids that one of them taught. Now, I can't really judge them, it's their life and they can talk about and do whatever they want, I just couldn't relate.

Now I guess the couples were close to my age, 61. They made me feel like I no longer fit into my surroundings. I am an older man that does not fit in with other older people. The best conversation I have had since I have been here was with the couple kids, in a parking lot. I may have mentioned them earlier. I do fit in with other golfers my age, maybe because we have golf in common, but for the most part, those conversations end at the parking lot. Golf is strange like that, no one are friends unless they are on the course. They do not talk before or after.

Anyway, back to the couples. The father said nothing, just sat there and ate quietly. His son asked him once how his food was, that was the extent of the involvement the others had with him. I found myself wanting to talk to him, he looked like a person I wanted to talk to, not so much because I felt sorry for him, but because he looked like he could tell me things, things that would be important to hear. I wanted to know what he did in his life and how he felt now. Obviously, I did not get to do that, it made me feel sad, like I missed an opportunity to enrich my life.

As I think about it, I have but one friend that is my age. I live alone, and do not like to ask for help from anyone. What am I going to do as I get older? Guess these are some of the reason I try and figure out where I belong, where I fit in. It would certainly help to be more social, but I have a very tolerance level in groups of people.

I went to the movies (Sherlock Holmes) for the first time in many years, on Christmas day. I usually play golf, but it was too cold. I was very uncomfortable there, so much so that I really did not see the movie. I'm sure the depression played a part, but I generally don't like to be in crowded places. Or as someone put it, I don't mind the crowds, just don't like the people in them.

Gulf Shores is in the history book, but have a few parting thoughts.

It's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Just a summertime resort community, but I did find a bunch of golf courses I liked.

Got the story on the old house. There is a person living there, and there are only two windows in the house. The last big hurricane it the house pretty hard and he did not have insurance. Hurricane insurance being very expensive in that part of the country. He has a job and is a volunteer fireman for Gulf Shores. Every night on his way home from work, he stops and buys a six-pack, sits at home and watches TV. Full-timers in the area have offered help, but like some of us, he is hesitant to take it. Hope he finds some joy.

Another thing I have noticed is the size of the women in the area, all ages but mostly young, high school. They are attractive, very tall and solid, not overweight, just built like linebackers. Noticed quite a few, makes me wonder how this came about, genetics I suppose. Don't think it could be environment, unless there is something in the water, if so, I wished I had consumed more water myself.

So, lessons learned - don't like living without some kind of foliage, sand and water alone just doesn't do it for me. Not crazy about constant wind, and wait for it, don't want to be cold. Don't like living sixteen miles or so from any restaurants, grocery stores, etc. Did kinda liked the small town feel, which is strange considering how much I like LA. Have to try that one again. Liked the fact that I could make as much noise as I wanted, not that I did. But could stomp on the floor and not piss off anyone.

As long as I get something, good or bad, from each location, I will consider it a good stop in my adventure.

I left for Florida on Monday, it was a strange but uneventful trip. A lot of little things that went wrong, took the wrong road out of Gulf Shores which added on thirty miles. Spilled gas on me at the first fill up, not much, just enough that I could notice the smell. Got tired very quickly. The highlight was, oddly enough, a bad cheeseburger. I stopped a Stake and Shake, had a hankering for a vanilla milk shake. On paying my bill, the manager asked how my meal was and I said okay. He asked "how come just okay?" I tell him, bad burger, decent shake. He reduced my bill to $1.98 and gave me a free Coke glass, which I am drinking from now. It is way too hard to find good service from someone who cares and this little act on his part made me feel good all the way to Florida. The little things in life that keep me going.

Well, here I am, in Florida, in record cold. Is it just following me or am I causing it? I can't go much farther south and still stay in the US. Forty degrees as I write this going down to thirty-three. They say no warm weather this week.

But I'm hear for a while, staying with my mom while looking for the perfect cheap place to live. We shall see. More soon...

Time span: 1 month, golfable days: 6

One of my goals on this trip was to see a Space Shuttle launch, there are only five left, well now none.

The trip to see the last night launch ever turned out to be a typical Yank disaster. Got there 8 hours early for a scheduled 4:30 liftoff to get a good spot and got one, all good so far. Stood at the fence in the cold for 30 minutes until the shot was scrubbed. Checked with the hotel where I was to see if they had a room, they did, would be available at 3 pm (it was 5 am at the time) for $200.

Can't deal with sitting around for another 10 hours and couldn't afford the $200. So I left. And entered a traffic jam the likes of which I have never seen. An hour and one mile into it, I start to get violently sick. Am in big trouble. I take the first road that didn't have traffic and started looking for a hotel. Find one and of course it had no rooms available. Nice lady at the desk realized I was in trouble and called around to see if she could find me a room - none available. Co-worker reminds her of a room they have but the heater is broken, they offer it to me and I take it.

I grab every available piece of warmth - towels, folding the bedding over, clothes - to try and get warm. By now have a fever of around 102 to 103, a good case of shivers and sweats. But between trips to the bath and the bed, not much warmth to be found. Around 3pm, I felt well enough to drive the 150 miles back to Clearwater. Postscript: Should have run a hot bath, hindsight.

Just hard to shake my little cloud...

Have been here much longer than I expected or wanted, but things are what they are - no work to speak of so money is very tight. Looking at the upside, at least I wasn't in a place where the shortage would have caused major problems.

Got to go to the Tampa Bay Rays home opener. I find it hard to cheer for them and am not a fan of domed stadiums, especially for baseball, but enjoyed the night nevertheless.

Larry the Plumber
I was getting ready to leave when I found a business possibility, from of all places, Larry the plumber. It has great potential so I just can't afford to pass that up, but if it works out, I'll be here longer. Not sure how long which makes me a little crazy, or crazier as the case may be.

It has started to get much warmer, but is still tolerable. Not looking forward to the high heat and humidity. Just went outside for a cigarette and a short walk and it was nice, peaceful, pleasant, I had good music in my ears. Made me think there are possibilities for my life, maybe I can get to enjoying it again.

Have found a few decent places to play golf on the cheap, just have to play after 2 or 3pm, but that's okay 'cause it gets cooler. So my game is coming back, too slow for my liking, but coming back. Also have been playing with my brother-in-law at "The Country Club". It has been good to get to know him better, he and my sister make me feel welcome, a good thing in my life.

April 25th
Florida thunderstorms happen frequently in the summer. Found out that Tampa is the lightening capitol of the US and I believe it. Magical displays of raw power. Starts with high winds and rain, palms trees bending seven to eight feet and then it settles into just thunder and rain, lots of lightning. Thirty seconds of rolling thunder, rain that comes down so hard you can't see thirty feet, I love these kinds of storms. I go outside and bam, lighting hits within 300 to 400 yards, no gap between flash and sound. And what a sound, literally shook my insides - that much power, all in one spot - unbelievable, magical. Can't image how people live after being stuck by lightning. Wanted to go and walk in it but a little too cold and way too dangerous.

Florida Nights
It has gotten hot and humid, not comfortable to say te least, during the day. But nights are very nice. Soft breezes that caress you, give you a feeling that it might just be okay. Reminds me of when I went to high school here, hanging out at night with my friends at the beach, comfortable, really the only time I am at peace in Florida.

Bugs
There are a lot of bugs here - 3" dragon flies that hang out in herds or whatever a large amount of dragon flies are called. Saw a really strange bug tonight, very strange until I figured out that it was two bugs mating. At least something in my world is getting some. But, bugs are everywhere, all kinds and shapes. Ones that you have never seen before, most you really would not like to see again. Again, the question comes up - why live here? And again, I find myself wanting to come home, but I'm going to ride this one out for a while.

Say good night Gracie, more later...

Something Very Remarkable
Am still working with Rankmark, the business proposal I mentioned earlier, and am putting on an golf club iron evaluation at a local driving range. Seriously hot, I mean 90 in the shade. It ends late Sunday and I am in the driving range office cooling off talking to the manager who I have become friends with, and he mentions a name - Mike Mancini. I ask how old Mike is and if he lived in Clearwater long, both answers were yes. Long story short, I know Mike, he was my best friend in Clearwater and years following. He and I have a lot of history together. And through a strange set of circumstances we meet again, forty some-odd years later. This is one of the best things to have happened in many years. Gives me hope and a friend back I thought I had lost - and someone to fill in a lot of blanks in my memory. At the moment I am a happy camper.

7/27/10
I was standing on a second floor balcony and I looked down to see an elderly, no, old couple walking hand-in-hand. The gentleman looked up and saw me and waved. I waved back. A nice moment in time, one that gives hope. It is something we can only hope for, walking hand-in-hand with our best friend when we are old.

I moved into a small place in an up-scale part of LA and the average size of the dogs in the neighborhood is about a foot long. Not very thrilled with small dogs, don't like that yapping voice. Ran into a lady with an average size dog, we started talking and she mentioned that she was not from the neighborhood, came here and parked to walk around. Go figure...