holy mother of christ

you would never call me baby if you knew me

every person on earth feels that way. it's hard to say something so obvious and universal without sounding trite (or maybe it's the kind of thing you have to say when you're super-young to get away with? i don't know about that, though, i roll my eyes half out of my head at some of the tired old chestnuts i hear tumbling out of kids' mouths. sorry, these sidebars can go on and on) i like this kid.

for legal reasons

had to take the car crash post down. nobody's missing it anyway, lol.

here's radical face's 'glory' instead. i'm a little stuck on it.



words:

I was born when they took my name
When the world turned wicked, when I joined their game
But I turned and fought them
Like you always knew I'd do

I sat and dreamed at the foot of your bed
You split my skull and reached inside my head
And pulled out the pictures I'd been wishing I'd forget
And you stitched me up then
And wiped the blood from off my chin

Now I sit on the rooftop's edge
The muddy street beneath my swollen head
Trying to forget you
To believe we've never met

And the sky is wrecked, full of rotting clouds
From chimney mouths spewing smoke around
And I can't stop coughing
My lungs just won't calm down
But still I keep grinning
As the blood from my face stains the ground

A bird, caught in the wires
Bleating for help I can't provide
(I'm not that big)
I hope for the best but nothing changes
(I'm sorry)

But I was blessed with bad eyes
There's a lot that I miss but I don't mind, I'm not that old
I'll find out what broke me soon enough

suck it, admirer... and you spelled emotionally wrong

seth, i like you too much to continue. im an emotianally damaged, neurotic mess. i dont know how much of last night you remember but i meant it when i said i like you. i need to focus on other things right now. know that ill think of you often.

now doctor horrible is here. to make you quake with fear. to make your whole world neal. and i wont feel...

i try twice as hard and i'm half as liked/but here they come again to jack my style

'SOME NIGHTS' BY fun.


Some nights, I stay up cashing in my bad luck
Some nights, I call it a draw
Some nights, I wish that my lips could build a castle
Some nights, I wish they'd just fall off

But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for oh
What do I stand for? What do I stand for?
Most nights, I don't know anymore...
oh woah, oh woah, oh woah oh oh
oh woah, oh woah, oh woah oh oh

This is it, boys, this is war - what are we waiting for?
Why don't we break the rules already?
I was never one to believe the hype - save that for the black and white
I try twice as hard and I'm half as liked, but here they come again to jack my style

And that's alright; I found a martyr in my bed tonight
She stops my bones from wondering just who I am, who I am, who I am
Oh, who am I? Oh, who am I? mmm... mmm...

Well, Some nights, I wish that this all would end
Cause I could use some friends for a change
And some nights, I'm scared you'll forget me again
Some nights, I always win, I always win...

But I still wake up, I still see your ghost
Oh Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh
What do I stand for? What do I stand for?
Most nights, I don't know... (come on)

So this is it? I sold my soul for this?
Washed my hands of that for this?
I miss my mom and dad for this?

No. When I see stars, when I see stars, that's all they are
When I hear songs, they sound like a swan, so come on
Oh, come on. Oh, come on, OH COME ON!

That is it, guys, that is all - five minutes in and I'm bored again
Ten years of this, I'm not sure if anybody understands
This is not one for the folks at home; I'm sorry to leave, mom, I had to go
Who the fuck wants to die alone all dried up in the desert sun?

My heart is breaking for my sister and the con that she called "love"
But when I look into my nephew's eyes...
Man, you wouldn't believe the most amazing things that can come from...
Some...
terrible lie...

ahhh...

oh woah, oh woah, oh woah, oh oh
oh woah, oh woah, oh woah, oh oh

The other night, you wouldn't believe the dream I just had about you and me
I called you up, but we'd both agree
It's for the best you didn't listen
It's for the best we get our distance... oh...
It's for the best you didn't listen
It's for the best we get our distance... oh...

and here's their first single from their album "some nights." filmed entirely in SETH-O-VISION...


and speaking of first singles, below is the lead singer's old band the format's first single from their album 'interventions and lullabies, which i 'didn't write.'


this dude's success is actually one of the few instances of me not being even remotely bitter about my shit getting jacked. it's also one of the very first times my shit got jacked, and of course they are a phoenix band... it's probably what started the whole process of everything i ever wrote getting stolen from me. the album cover for 'interventions and lullabies' is actually an unfinished drawing that i 'didn't draw.' i think it's very telling that the image they chose to use is of a boy's head who doesn't have a face, a boy who is not identified. it's a nod, it's an acknowledgement, but of course, a nod and a wink is not credit, and it is not a paycheck, and while this guy's talent is undeniable, he did not have to live through what i had to live through to get to the place where he could write what i 'didn't write.'

and here they are talking about gay rights, very articulately, i think.


that's RIGHT, boys, it's the least you can do.

SLIGHTLY fat boys are the shit.

beCAUSE, they feel like they are ugly (even though they aren't) and nobody will fuck them even if they're REALLY GOOD LOOKING, and so you hook up with them and i HATE WORDS like "bear" "cub" "otter," etc but these dudes are plenty PLENTY FINE and nobody will give them the time of day because gay guys are EVIL INCARNATE. SO you can pick these dudes up and they are INTO IT, they fuck like CHAMPIONS AMONG CHAMPIONS. they are PRESENT and ENTHUSIASTIC AND i'm not looking for gratitude, but it's THERE. A friend of mine once said "gay guys are cats, but nobody wants to fuck a cat. you want to fuck DOGS." BECAUSE of their enthusiasm. so yeah, so true. i've always been TOP-ISH, but flexible, but i am SO getting back in touch with my top side.

sorry if this was too much information, world :)

you gotta try a little harder/you're the comeback kid

and on the subject of 'comeback kids' here's another song that i 'didn't write.' it is also called comeback kid. it is by the amazing silversun pickups and from their powerful ep 'pikul.

'


With all the fire set in our eyes
without a cornerstone to realize
that later on we'll build the pyre
and burn so easily well everyone but me

and soon we'll sing in better moods
a sigularity well everyone but you
they'll pull the nerves out through the pores
though bruised so easily the comeback kid's not
bleeding

with words that defied all our social gestures
no one could've known what the comeback kid did
no words could describe all the social pressures
that leads to the time when the comeback kid wins
and wins

and now we sing in better moods
together whispering well everyone but you
and later on we built that pyre
and burned so easily well everyone but me

with words that defied all our social gestures
no one could've known what the comeback kid did
no words could define all the social pressures
that leads to the time when the comeback kid wins..

IMPERIAL TEEN is definitely the SHIT

I want to fuck Will Schwartz from Imperial Teen (who, oddly enough, looks about five minutes older than my ex-boyfriend lu, who was hot as fuck but apparently evil, if you have followed my blithering blog for any amount of time) and Hey Will Power so fucking bad it hurts my balls. Seeing them LIVE (with patty schemel from hole filling in for their preggers drummer who has a name that i don't know) was so rad [with plagiarists OKGO who had "I (HEART) SA" shirts for sale- my initials are SA, but whatever, i'm one wrong move away from requiring food boxes from catholic social services but who needs money when you have the most CURSORY OF ACKNOWLEDGEMENT]. actually, i am not remembering that right, those were separate shows, but at the big fish pub in tempe (RIP, like any music venue in tempe worth a shit). BESIDES THE POINT!

UPDATE/CORRECTION: ACTUALLY, the band i was thinking of that are plagiarists (i mean, 99.98% of modern musicians DO NOT write their own songs, at least the words, and probably the music) that had the i (heart) SA was the band Say Anything, who were playing the big fish pub in support of "their" album "...is a real boy" as in S.ay A.nything "...is a real boy." "their" concept being a loose narrative about a boy who had an affliction that rendered him incapable of telling lies, even white ones. my favorite track, the one i would be proudest of if i had written it, is below, and is called "admit it!"

Tom Petty is Kind of the Shit

it has been said before that solely based upon the genius of the video for don't come around here no more TP&theHB deserve mad, MAD props, and i am certainly NOT going to disagree, but i would like to go off on the awesomeness of both some of his wildly successful mainstream hits and videos as well as some lesser known works that for WHATEVER REASON never made it into heavy rotation. I don't know how familiar you guys are with patrick bateman... i'll try not to be too creepy clinical.

this is sort of my first non-misery oriented post in quite a while, so please- be kind. i don't feel quite "back" yet, but i am TRYING, and i feel like i'm getting closer. Tom Petty has been a big part of that, in the musical component of catharsis sense, for whatever reason.

[ALSO- sidebar- i hope you guys enjoy the new header pic. i look like holy hell, i just woke up and clearly didn't even try to look pretty, but THAT FUCKING SCARY ASS MONKEYSHINES MONKEY is apparently something that Robert bought for me a few months before he died. If that doesn't indicate how mind-melded and close we were, NOTHING WILL. it is an example of a profound understanding of who i am, NOT AN EASY FEAT, LET ME TELL YOU (you know, because i'm so deep and complicated, lol) and the only other time in my life i've seen such a perfect gift was (this is arrogant, but TRUE) when i got rob the carol channing ventriloquist doll. OH, HOW I WISH HE COULD HAVE GOTTEN TO SEE MY REACTION TO RECEIVING IT! his partner michael did, though, and that was a joy and a blessing (oh, sick, i just used the word 'blessing'- please kill me). i love you, Robert! I miss you!]

In no particular order, apart from ballads vs. non-ballads/'rockers' (with videos when possible, which should be all of them in this day and age, and given the wealth of Petty concert footage, which is, you know, supposed to be one of the great musical experiences one can have. i've seen bob dylan live, and i realize he's like four thousand years old and everything, and that his voice was never a vocalist voice, and i realize that at one point seeing him perform was like seeing god and by the time my ass got around to it, it would be kind to say that he is a BIT past his prime by any reasonable standard, but WOW being a transcendentally great writer and a sonic pioneer does NOT make you a valid stage presence, and this is turning into an off-topic rant so moving right along):

Rebels:

ok, before i even get into the song, please make note of the backup wenches at :48 - :52, because they are of A PRICE ABOVE RUBIES, MOTHERFUCKERS!

sadly, i must begin with a concession: calling yourself a rebel is lame, at least at this point in time. possibly it's always been lame. if anything, Fonzie from Happy Days butt-raped the cool out of being a self-proclaimed rebel. Real rebels just go about being ahead of their time or outside of society (alá Patti Smith) like the rock and roll niggers that they are. and yet, YET, this song holds the hell up. This unforgivable "i'm a rebel" sin is bypassed, the proverbial two-hundred dollars are collected.

Excusing THAT: Tom Petty, especially in his youth was, to quote my once-clever and brutally articulate mother, "uglier than a bucket of assholes," although, as with many ugly people, they make ever more dashing, distinguished elderly people. Paradox. anyway, off topic again. So he was an ugly, weird, bug-looking motherfucker. AND YET, there is no DENYING the presence. Check the quick little facial expressions at the beginning, the movement (he looks like he's fucking the back of his guitar, but it doesn't seem to be an intentional, Jagger-esque effort as self-sexualizing), the swagger, the ROCKSTARNESS, but without the APATHY or the MOCK-INDIFFERENCE- he is being COOL AS FUCK while being OPENLY HAPPY AND EXCITED TO BE THERE (i wish gay guys at bars could master this trick- you CAN be awesome and sexy and still be really happy and nice and friendly at the same time, it CAN be done).

Next, lyrical validity. The simplicity is deceptive: on the page, not hearing the song, the words are pretty good, but not apparently brilliant. what many people don't realize or take the time to think about (although, dear reader, i am sure that you are not that way, because if you're reading this you are of better stock, am i right? of course i am) is that writing a song, enunciation and delivery must be considered. simple pentameter is not enough- that's why there aren't musicals in Shakespearean verse, at least none that i know of, and if there were one, a good one, i'm sure it would be somewhat well known. Petty is an absolute master of this: his inflection elevates his lyrics ALWAYS, which is not to say he is not lyrically brilliant. He stylistically tends toward non-abstract narrative, character stuff, storytelling. sort of a seventies southern styled corridos kind of thing... i mean, he isn't the only person who does it, but he uses broader strokes than, say, Bruce Springsteen or John Mellencamp, who are more geared towards 'and then this happened, and then this happened, and then this happened to these same people' kind of narration.

check out the lyrics in their entirety here and just click the x on the popup offering to send the ringtone to your phone and you're good.

My personal lyrical highlight from the song:

She picked me up in the morning/and she paid all my tickets
Then she screamed in the car/Left me out in the thicket

Well, i never would of dreamed/that her heart
was so wicked
Yeah, but i keep/coming back
'Cause it's so hard
to kick it

HEY! HEY! HEY!

and then the exTREMELY sing-along-able chorus kicks back in.

oh, it fucking kills me, it's like bukowski is the character in the song- there's the jail reference, the fucked up woman who rages out, the addictive allusions... and let us not overlook the simplicity on the page versus the way that they turn into perfectly fitted Tetris pieces when he SINGS THE WORDS. Rapture.

Final point: this is a southern pride song. How the FUCK do you do that without being yucky or "i'm on the mountain with mama and paw drinking moonshine and i love trucks and yay trailer park realness" alá modern country, (ugh) kid rock, or even other southern-ish rock music like (UGH) Lynard Skynnard? he even makes mention of those "blue bellied devils," and not that i feel that i have to break this down for you, that's an allusion to hating the north during the civil war. BUT HE DOES IT, and- at least to me- it's not offensive. you never get the "he hates black people" vibe, you never even get a "he hates everybody above the mason-dixon line" vibe, even though he basically SAYS IT in the song. He's in character to a certain extent, though the performance doesn't read that way.

Tom Petty is exempt from many well-established guidelines for being awesome. he can call himself a rebel (even call the FUCKING SONG "REBELS"), he can do legitimate southern pride and talk shit about the north without seeming racist or even offensive while being simultaneously sincere and himself AND in character. He's a fucking wizard... not a grand imperial wizard of the ku klux klan, though, just to be clear :)

ok, this is a long post... i'm sure i'm writing this primarily for myself- i doubt many of you have any interest in tom petty, so this might be a series.

it's been cool, though! to write again, to put something on here that wasn't about grief or loss or whatever.

i think next up will be either yer so bad or swingin' or possibly room at the top, if you guys are familiar with any of those. oh! maybe i'll do insider, one of the songs that he wrote for stevie nicks but ended up keeping for himself, lol- this happened several times!

stevie nicks has said that she wanted to quit fleetwood mac after rumours and JOIN TOM PETTY AND THE HEARTBREAKERS. WOW, that would have been a very different musical universe, huh?

anybody who's still reading my shit, thanks for sticking it out, i know i've been difficult.

Real Love

written and unsuccessfully published on 11/02/2011: so i've been trying to edit my post about robert, but for whatever reason, blogger isn't letting me save changes. i wrote it a few hours after i found out he was dead, and it was late and i was calling people to talk about it, but nobody was up so i wrote about it. i just wanted to say that i don't really want to die, i was on my third forty and deep in grief and that's what came out. i don't believe in god, but robert sure did, and i was/am angry that something like that should happen to him. anyway, i'm up in prescott now. his partner michael got in last night, and i'm surrounded by amazing friends and things are as good as they can be given the horrible circumstances.

My Friend Robert Gonzales is Dead

Robert barely knew me when he made a concerted effort to pull me out of the wreckage of my life. i was doing daily labor and couch surfing with no personal belongings beyond a ratty post-post-second hand duffel full of lost and found clothing from the kicked out bin from a series of half way homes. he barely knew me, but he was like "i'm sick of you being in flux. fuck that. you're coming to stay at my place." and so it was. i moved in. he arranged me to take over his lease. he got me a job at the resort he worked at. he got me dress clothes, he took me to meetings, he was amazing, he was like pure love.

yesterday, while he was helping his sister angie move, he got in a car accident and now he's dead. i can't fucking believe it. if i had never met him, i know for a fact that i'd be dead. i am so broken hearted i can't even express the pain. he is one of the most amazing, selfless people i've ever known and to think that he's dead is such a slap in the face of fairness, reason, and cause and effect that i am in a profoud tailspin of faith and so on and so forth. his partner michael isn't even in the state. i'm zooming up to prescott tomorrow to um... you know. be there. i love robert so much, i want to die with him. i can't believe he's gone. i can't fucking believe it. no no no no no no no. no fucking nooooooooo. where is your god now, world. where is your fucking god?

Words Very Nearly Fail Me At Times

MY SELF SUMMARY
I'm a University of Arizona graduate, I studied marketing and work in the field. I grew up in California before moving to Arizona as a teenager. I attended high school here and was involved in several sports. I'm pretty laid back, I like to chill out with friends and have a few drinks. Play sports. I like to travel and see new places. Enjoy some great sex.
I don't like drama. While I'm on the subject on things I don't like; fems and flamers, fatties and chubs, old men, unemployed and uneducated. PLEASE DON'T message me.
WHAT I’M DOING WITH MY LIFE
I've graduated from the U of A and now I'm working my dream job, I continue to grow in what I do and embrace my growth as human being.
My ultimate goal is to open my own ad agency and marketing firm and have a global clientele.

I’M REALLY GOOD AT
at sports, I lettered in Baseball, football and swimming. I'm also good at sex, I've told I'm amazing and I only attribute it to my nice friend below the waste...lol I'm pretty good at making my partner feel good too.


THE FIRST THINGS PEOPLE USUALLY NOTICE ABOUT ME
Guys tell me they notice that I'm fit and in shape. Girls say they notice my eyes then they tell both tell the truth and tell me the bulge in my pants...lol

FAVORITE BOOKS, MOVIES, SHOWS, MUSIC AND FOOD
Don't care to read much these days.
I like action movies, the more fighting and explosives, the harder my erection,
I hate foreign films and think that subtitles are dumb. I don't want to spend time reading during a movie. Most of the time they are low budget anyways.
Music is pretty much open, I do like alternative and rock, but sometimes catch myself listening to pop.
I love food! A day at the beach and eating fresh seafood seaside is the best. Never can pass up a good surf and turf. I like Mexican and Italian food as well, just can't cook for the life of me.

I SPEND A LOT OF TIME THINKING ABOUT
Honestly, sex. I'm young and have a great libido. If YOU CAN INTEREST ME IN YOU, then I think you have a good catch. I can have great conversations, they just need to spark my interest.

ON A TYPICAL FRIDAY NIGHT I AM
Chillin with friends, usually on 4th Ave getting drunk, not at the gay clubs!

THE MOST PRIVATE THING I AM WILLING TO ADMIT
The most private thing I’m willing to admit I've slept with my ex-girlfriend's brother.



I’M LOOKING FOR
Guys who like guys
Ages 18-27
Near me
For new friends, long-term dating, short-term dating, activity partners, casual sex

YOU SHOULD MESSAGE ME IF:
You're HOT, you like how I look, You like sex, you think you can handle me. I like to be outdoors and stay busy and fit, if you are a runner, swimmer, hiker, sports guy or cyclist we'd get along fine.
You shouldn't message me if you're; FAT, OLD, feminine, an IDIOT or looking for a "life partner" I'm 23 and NOT ready to settle down.

Did You Miss Me?

Reboot coming very soon. It has been a hard fucking year, and i think i'm ready to talk about it (as well as random bullshit, as is my wont). So much to say.

Sinéad's Script

self-servingly swiped from the smart and clever Kubla Kong.

300

so since i got back from nebraska on march sixth i have been whirlwinding hardcore- on the seventh i SORT OF moved in with my new, probationary boyfriend.

he's half native american and half black, really handsome, super sweet and nice and easy to be around but he also owns a gun. i find him very sexy, which is not my strong suit. sex is a bit of a handicap for me, but we fit together like legos (is that an asexual thing to say?) and yeah. it's pretty weird- he manages a care home that specializes in alzheimer's and dementia, and he's been there for fourteen years. he started as a caregiver. he got me a job there, and i really like the residents, but there are a lot of cunts in the house i work in. they're all latinas and they're very cold and mean and clique-y but i don't mind so much most of the time, i'm so happy for the job and i do love the residents. joel doesn't manage that house, though, he manages the one next door. apparently, his employee given nickname over there is 'The Red Queen,' which he and i both delight in. he has a little long haired dachshund. my cat juju TERRIFIES him, and yet he won't stop antagonizing him. he literally ate rocks the other day, though, so there you go. the thing is retarded (although very sweet).

school is set up for me to go back this summer, starting in the end of may. they said my spring semester financial aid would roll over as long as i was enrolled half-time for the first summer session, which i am.

hmm... what else. oh, because god likes to make me eat my words, joel lives in tucson so i have moved back to tucson. when i lived here before i hated it, but joel says i just wasn't hanging out with the right people/going to the right places. both are true- i wasn't hanging out with anyone and i wasn't going anywhere except school and occasionally to the movies. i guess the last thing is that since august i've lost eighty pounds through exercise and diet. i'm not saggy like i was worried i would be- i guess that only happens if you were either super super huge or if you lose your weight via diet alone without sufficient exercise. i ride my bike about ten miles a day during the workweek, and i do free weights and ab stuff and planks. i am feeling somewhat attractive, have visible muscles and all that. don't want to jinx it, and i am not done (but i'm getting close!) but i am proud-ish of myself.

just wanted to say that i'm alive, i'm doing really well, i'm with a new guy who treats me well, i am working, school hasn't blown up in my face... oh, and david foster wallace came out with a new book. i mean, it's posthumous, but still. DAVID FUCKING FOSTER WALLACE. if you're a reader, get on that shit.

this has been my three hundredth blog post.

thank you for reading.

Blue

Yellow circus left the stakes a broken ropes world's useless mug
The ties that bind, ha ha
I can be bad poet
Street poet
Shit poet
Kind poet too

Subway
Almost 4AM
Halloween night
Had enough to drink to make my own party
All my fellow writers in half costume, half asleep
Half silly, gone to seed

I don't mark my time with dates, holidays, faded wisdom, locked karma holders
Convenient

I am made by my times
I am a creation of now
Shaken with the cracks and crevices
I'm not giving up easy
I will not fold
I don't have much
But what I have is gold

I saw your face...

I sing in platinum
I dress in brass
I eat in zinc
Let it pass

Compare a toast
I like that
I understand courage
I still roll with the shout of a character I was married to today
I try to see outside myself
I understand the eyes
Excuse all the highs
Sorry
I am sorry
Ha ha

I like you, love you, every coast of you.
I've seen your eddies and tides and hurricanes and cyclones.
Low ebb tide and high, full moon.
Up close and distant.
I read you.
Look, the sky, the sea, the ocean, the sun, the moon.
Blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue, blue blue, blue, blue, blue, blue.
Naked and blue.

Breathing with you. Touch. Change. Shift. Allow air. Window open. Drift. Drift away. Into now.

I want Whitman proud. Patti Lee proud. My brothers proud. My sisters proud. I want me. I want it all. I want sensational. Irresistible.

This is my time and I am thrilled to be alive.

Living. Blessed. I understand.

Twentieth century:
Collapse Into Now

Cinderella boy
You've lost your shoe

Cinderella boy
Your coach awaits

A sun makes shadows
All over your face
As you sit
Naked and blue
Into me

grandpa/hiatus/haiku

my grandpa died. already super-irregularly updated blog on indefinite hiatus. must go to nebraska on tuesday.

this entry sounds like
a haiku of detached pain
but i shall return

Foreshadowing/I Miss My Grandma

Ms Cyd Adams
512q No 15th St.
Apt #509
Phoenix, Az. 85014

7-10-90

Dear Cyd*:-
Enclosing some pictures we took on the new 35mm camera i got dad for father's day. he shoots everything and i think we are getting some good ones. I took many shots of antique shop-- new car-- the house on avenue and wheat harvest and drilling soybeans in the wheat stubble. Have some more to take as the film is 36 exposures.
We took RV down to Indian Cave for couple of nights affter the pressure of harvest was over. it rained a ton but needed it so just went to bed and slept through it. brought the rig home this morning. Been driving back and forth.
Jesse** has chicken pox and not too happy with the confinement of it. Carries some fever but generally getting along pretty good. Seth*** hasn't started yet but he has boy scout camp starting tomorrow so hope he gets to go before the pox catch up with him. He will be so disappointed if he doesn't get to go. Leave Wed. afternoon and come back Sat morning. Go to the boy scout camp at Dubois. Should really have a wonderful time. Hope he makes it.
Now that harvest is over maybe we can finish up some of our other projects. Need to finish trim at the avenue

-2-

house. Also need to finish the house on O street. The west side and porch need paint and all screens need painted. Then the lady on "N" street moved and would be good time to do the trim down there as well as some carpenter work on basement stairs. Also some cement work. Too much to do! Then we got 1000 more paving bricks to be brought over here for driveway and other places. Wanted to get porches on this summer but too hot now so may e a fall project when we get back from Phoenix. Which reminds me to inquire as to whether you and doctor have come up with any date certain in Sept.**** We plan to come few days before you go into hospital and will stay as long as we can afterwards. Reason I would like to know is I was going to order State Fair tickets if I thought I'd use them but won't if I'm not. Doesn't bother me if I don't go but will go if I'm going to be here. Got any answers at this time?
We certainly are enjoying the car. It is such a pretty thing. Needs a bath and good vacuuming. The boys did real good as we kept them apart when we went anyplace. They were with us 3 weeks and was long for them too*****. They were glad for their mother to get home and

-3-

we haven't seen them since. Been a week or better but with temps at 107 - 108 (degrees farenheit) it was too hot to go anywhere you did need to. Jo was too hot and tired to come over after work and usually lays down before supper. Then Jesse got the chic pox so had to stay in. Jo goes to Columbus for 3 days in August for her job so they will be back then I guess.
We got a long letter from David******. He is in So. Carolina. Wants your address and phone number. I'll send to him if you don't mind but won'd if you don't want me too. Jo won't even respond to him and I know he is lonesome but has brought on so much himself.
Bev Clarke******* retire's at Glen's Drug Store and they had a coffee for her Monday morning. She is thrilled to death and I know she will enjoy it more as she goes along. She and Anna Belle Redfern******** are going on a trip to Alaska in August. Has had her tickets since March. It is 12 days I think. Some tour! Know they will enjoy. Will wind this up and get it in mail. Write us some time. Take care, and put pictures up, and we will get what you don't want to keep when we come.

Love,
Mom & Dad*********

KEY:
*Cyd is my aunt, the one that raised me from my mid-teens on.
**my younger brother, 2 years and three months younger than me.
***me
****Cyd was getting hysterectomy that year.
*****Jolene (or just 'Jo') my mother, was visiting my future stepfather in Pennsylvania that summer.
******David, my father.
*******?
********?
*********My Grandma wrote the letter, she just always signed stuff as being from both of them.

on the back of the envelope are some numbers:
3 26 27
36-39-42
35

See...

THIS is exactly the reason that i can NEVER be famous. i mean, i can write, but i would have to use a pseudonym because there is a METRIC TON of crazy seth stuff out there in the world, and without a series of well-executed assassinations, i just don't see that going away.