Vivid Dreams

Over the last weeks, I've had some very strange, vivid dreams. Some tied to my distant past, even including my parents. Some were not so far back, including some work acquaintances, including bosses and situations from 33 and 18 years ago.

Others, more recent, including most recent history. Still, none were as terrifying as in the past; ie. Making quota or falling behind.

Still, it encapsulated my own time line with no partners mentioned.

Perhaps I have reached a degree of acceptance. All my failures, all my losses, all my changes.... Nothing mattered any more.

Might this have been the turning point in my life? Accepting failed jobs and relationships, permitting me to finally move On?

I'll have to wait and see

2018 in the rear view mirror

This year brought some of the most dramatic changes in my life.

13 months ago... Moved. Dealing with the last months of my MIS career... long commutes to a job I truly loathed... 11 hour stressful days... and then, in January... poof!

a year ago, was an attempt by Jude to contact me - through Heather. Heather started reading the message and I told her to stop and delete it, as I didn't want to know - or hear from her.

Then Vicky Meany... First in January, telling me she broke up with Jaime... and exactly 2 weeks later... she's engaged. Again, I didn't want to hear. But I let her know gently, by stating I wished Jude all the happiness in the world.

Then, Heather informs me a month ago, that their break up was acrimonious, and there were harsh words on either side... publicly. Again, didn't care, although felt bad for Jaime, because his problem was medical.

June brought the hottest weather of the summer and a part time, off the books job that I had to quit after a week. I was so out of shape.

Then, helping with the apartments. I got pretty good at that. extra money flowed in.

I sold the drum set in April or May. I didn't like it and replaced it in July with an electronic one. Didn't like it either, and I sold that in November. Next drum set I buy will be a Tama Superstar Hyper drive or Star Classic, with Evolution Hi Hats.

The apartment cleanings became more contentious between me and Heather. I started looking for a job so I can produce additional income. That will start Wednesday with Giant Eagle in overnight stocking. This should supply about $200 additional weekly. Hence, this will provide me the funds for my new drum set.





Last summer, after battling with her ex regarding extra time with the girls, Heather contacted an attorney. We spent about $700 in fees, only to hold off all proceedings after catching up due to Sarah's getting worse. Her outbursts became very regular, and Mike decided enough was enough. After a half dozen calls to the police on his daughter - plus several ambulance rides to the hospital, Sarah is now in a mental hospital. (I called that one a year ago). Previously, she had attacked Mike's Girlfriend, Cheryl, and also attacked her grandmother. Today marks her 5th day in the mental hospital in Youngstown. Heather goes there tomorrow to get a report/evaluation. I am grateful we NEVER spent any additional money trying to get equal custody.3 months ago, when we ceased all proceedings, I told heather, she will have to apply for a loan to pay an attorney, because I won't do it.

Early in January, I set Heather up on a payment plan to catch her delinquent school loans up. That broke down and Heather never pursued it. I'm done trying to keep her afloat. Hence, another reason for my job. PLUS...

In the spring, she ashed if she could have a boyfriend, to be a fuck buddy. At first I conceded, and cut her off. She pursued it, and then stopped. Late in the summer she picked up her contacts again, actually meeting him for coffee to see if they could click. I completely stopped all attentions to her. She let me start going out every weekend, because I couldn't take Sarah, who had begun to be here almost all the time because Mike hated his mom's brainwashing of the Sarah. I started feeling as if she had emotionally moved on... as she was sleeping on the couch every night since mid summer.

She started going out after work during the week, going out with her "girlfriends" and so forth on weekends... I was fairly sure she started her fuck buddy routine, although during our most recent conversation on it, she said no. I still don't truthfully believe her. Her sex drive is far too high and I haven't touched her in a year. If she strays, she strays... it'll make moving easier.

I started looking for an apartment. While her conversation last week had me halt my search, I still will not entirely give up the idea I will one day be back up north in my own one bedroom apartment, alone. I'm looking forward to it. If I still have the job at Giant eagle overnight, I could still work, and live quite comfortably. That is my goal.

Time will tell....

Further Delusions of my Family

My maternal grandmother was a closet NAZI. I became convinced of this when back in 1969, while touring Germany, she bragged about M.A. Schneider's brother being a former S.S. officer. She stood there with pride as she proclaimed it. Looking back, I wasn't impressed, rather I was shocked that she made such a declaration with such pride.

Grandpa was a racist, but not a NAZI. Born here, he was outcast by his family in Wisconsin and sent to Cleveland as a family delinquent. He never spoke of that side of the family until after his sister's funeral, and then we knew of cousins, (Esh, Eddie, etc).

Mom was also a closet NAZI. Her first language was German, but that meant nothing. What finally bled through after all the years passed was her emmense double standard and bigotry; her harkenin back to the Von Kelp coat of arms and the Fiefdom that she continually pounded home stating I would be the Heir of. This was pure bullshit!

The facts get lost upon them that WWI erased the last vestiges of the AustrioHungarian empire. There WAS no remaining fiefdom. The Coat of Arms most likely never physically survived WWI. Why would you send your own  14 year old daughter, ALONE, on a student visa during the Auslicz in 1938. Talk about frickin' insane!!! That was grandma for you.

To hear the female side of the Weishaar's boast about the Von Kelps, with the same Arian Zeal .... it's all just so much crap! It was a nice story maybe before 1914... when grandma still lived there before emigrating to the US... but Opa already moved here. What's THAT tell you??

Opa was a working man. A tool smith that worked between Cleveland and Pittsburgh for years before he sent for Oma and Grandma.  When grandma arrived it was 1912. Why would Opt to leave a fiefdom to go to the U.S. if he were an Heir to the Fiefdom? He wouldn't. Our family history was bullshit.

Opa came to the U.S. because of opportunity... PERIOD! If there ever were a fiefdom, it would have fallen on MALE heirs. Not me... not even uncle Julius. Grandma and aunt Emma were cousins, and allegedly couldn't inherit, due to no heir.

The big lie was that Opa couldn't inherit because he was not royal. He was, however, a very good tool smith. THAT is the extent of that side of the family royalty. His claim to fame was that his employers here in Cleveland as well as Pittsburgh did not want him to retire and, as a master tool smith, he worked well into his 80s. He died in 1957 after working a very long time as a hard working immigrant.

That other bullshit fed by Grandma and mom was Arian Arrogance. After years of memory sorting through grandma's stories, I'm convinced grandma was a Hitler sympathizer, and she bred the Naziesque thinking into my mother through mixed up beliefs against the results after the dust settles from WWI, as well as the restructuring of nations after it's end in 1918. THAT was the extend of our royal blood..... but it was also the onset and predisposition towards grandma's sympathizing with the NAZI government of the 1930s.

In the end, grandma's delusions reverted to singing pre-war NAZI marches, babbling in German making no sense, and much the same for mom.

Family delusions

I'm guilty of deluding muself until just recently. I'm not alone.

Grandma deluded herself that she was a business woman. Yet, when she turned over the insurance agency and home loan, they were severely gutted of money. She had covered up M.A.'s infidelity, her own affairs and embezzlement and indiscretions. Her mental incompetence upon retiring at age 77 demonstrated her collapse and downfall when her partial stories and ramblings demonstrated it until she died.

Mom was no better. Like grandma, she rumbled about Arian ancestry, the Von Kelp coat of arms and other German pride issues, claiming I was the heir to a disbanded barony. As she ahed, her quirks got more obsessive and she tried numerous times to locate the love letters from Wes. We discovered them after mom died, and upon reading them, learned the sordid epic of her life long affair. Her lies and delusions caught up with her.

My delusions started early, with the brainwashings of German supremacy, the Von Kelp barony and other family fantasies told me from a very young age. When I took over for dad, I began to realize that I enjoyed physical work over collegiate pursuits.

I should have never wasted money and  my life in college. I've NEVER been college minded. Looking back, i should have bolted in 1975, when i spent several prior as well as successive  months working the trades.... carpentry, electrical, masonry, plumbing. I felt useful. In college classes, no matter the subject, I felt like I was wasting my time.

Had I left in 1975, I may have continued my drumming to make money as well. Neither happened. I was delusional, thinking I would follow in collegiate footsteps. Fact is, I never had the guy's yo follow my heart, but instead, deluded myself that I was a self deluded clerk

I've GOTTA shake this feeling...

Sometime between 11/17 and 11/21, Linda Shepherd died. According to her friend, Patti, she went to the hospital and had a massive heart attack while they were working on her. Her sister posted on facebook that they already said goodbye to her, indicating the service is already over.

Last year, it was Mitch Piazza. It took me weeks to get over his loss.

Cheryl's departure affects me still as well. However, hers was the first of my generation. People like Cheryl's dad, aunt Ann and Uncle Julius are situations we expect..
 age-wise.

Soon, I expect more as so many if my friends are of that era. Its a sobering thought.

Reality of Dreams

Last night, I had the most vivid of dreams containing two people, that in life, I know to be dead. One, the grandson if my first employer. The other, my mom.

I was working in an office situation, laid out similar to my first title employer, and DCIII was there espousing his latest cooking ideas, as real as he ever was, even down to his pronouncing of my name. It was vivid as reality, and a thought just occurred... he had been there before when he and his brother financed the restaurant.

Later that fay, after returning home, I was describing my day to mom before heading out for the evening. Funny thing... I lived at mom's for the time period I worked at that title company.

Wild dream indeed, and I'm sure further contemplation will reveal some form of conclusions that drew all three together...

Theoreticals

Seventeen years ago, I underwent therapy due to the failures of two successive relationships, and alienation of my kids

Even my family was against me on many levels.  Seventeen years later, their actions reveal that nothing has changed. Time changes people and ideas, sometimes. In this case, it did not


This holiday, I'll not venture forth to see them.

Flashbacks

From time to time, I remember bits and pieces from my past. Sometimes it's distant past; others are recent past.

One such flashback surrounds the mid 70's. I had gone to Tri C to appease my parents. 3 years and several changes in major fields of study later, I found myself at B-W, again to appease my parents as well as my Aunt and Uncle.

It was the same Aunt and especially Uncle who were very supportive of my drumming and bought me my drum set.

Dad's eventual life course was already charted: after a lifetime of smoking, drinking continued and he gained weight. His pulmonary edema started in 1976 when he pushed the car in winter. So his course was already set.

Mom, being an enabler, kept dad boozed up at his own wishes. He wasn't working. Mom's view was that I was destined to be the man of the house and from 1968 when dad had his heart attacks, until 1981 and my marriage, I was there to be at mom's beckon call.

Afterwards, a marriage, 4 kids, dad's death and the estate work, and mom's house maintainance were my destiny clear through mom's death in 2007 and the house foreclosure in 2009, weighed very heavily as my second job.

Since then, failed relationships come and go. In total, a half dozen or so relationships, two marriages, 2 divorces, 6 bankruptcies, 2 foreclosures occurred. The estrangement of my family is now complete.

Then, just about two weeks ago, a moment of clarity. Now retired for 10 months, I often take cameras out in nature to clear my mind. Suddenly, it hits:

1. Dad's heart attacks were 50 years ago starting last March and then May.
2. I started drumming 50 years ago last September.
3. I was 12... in 6th grade... Not even an adolescent when my life changed. I had six more years in school before high school graduation.
4. My first choices of being a carpenter, electrician or brick mason, all were inspired by Pete Scimone, John Carlson and Bon Fritz respectively, were ridiculed and shot down by mom. She claimed they were all beneath me.

I'd have made far more money doing my choice of trades that what my path eventually yielded in a desk job. Thanks mom... NOT!


Two weeks ago, I began to wonder what my life would have been like had I just rejected college all together after graduation and moved away.... FAR away... to start my life. I'd not have 4 kids; 6 bankruptcies; 2 divorces; 2 foreclosures either.

My life unfolded as it did because I was weak and afraid. Too fearful to disappoint my parents and their peers. I took THEIR path, not mine.

I now wonder what I would be like had I moved to another state back in September, 1974, to become a tradesman, instead of being everyone else's beckon call.

Beliefs

I'm always learning.

Many modern religions believe that they're preparing for the day when something to happen or someone to return.

Ancient civilizations also held the beliefs of a time when something is to happen or someone is to return.

The native Americans have beliefs that "sky people" came to earth and are still paying homage to aliens who will return to earth as was promised 5000 years ago.

Whether middle eastern religious sects or far eastern religions, they all harken back to promises of a return of sorts.

So many commonalities between so many varied beliefs, and yet humanity still seems to be religiously divided along these beliefs.

Perhaps what ever deity or alien will return, will have to wait for humanity to mature another several millennia before returning to fulfill the United prophecy of these religions.

You can't go back home

There's a saying that you can't go back home.
True enough.

I just google earthed my childhood home and surrounding areas.
Gone are the woods, pool (I demoed in 2005) and treehouse (I demoed in 1975).

Gone are many of the yard's trees.
The firepit remains, but it looks "rounder" and smaller, so it may have been replaced. The roof looks newer. They have a hot tub where Uncle Julius' old bench was on the patio. There appears to be an outdoor couch or padded bench on the front porch.

There's a new coat of paint, but the "B" remains on the garage peak.
The driveway and sidewalk to the front porch is paved concrete (newer looking in 2013 - the year of the google images). The front yard trees are larger.

Much of the neighborhood looks the same, but trees are everywhere. In the 2013 google photos, Tomko's house is still gone, with the detached garage standing alone.


I never realized how much of the woods is gone. Directly behind Valley Vista School, there is still a small woods, but not the sprawling woods that was framed in my Broadview, Wallings, State and Royalwood roads. The stream that had the waterfall still dumps out by Falls Lane, but most of the surrounding woods where all the Baja trails were has now been developed. All of these newer developments, with their same looking, particle board constructed houses lining winding, go-nowhere roads, sickens me to no end. Their only purpose was income and real estate tax revenues for corrupt, tin-pot dictator mayors of their suburban fiefdoms. Can you tell I am not happy?


All of this nostalgia was triggered by the past week's occurrences on the Facebook Group where I placed my photos of Barns. There were many comments stating that some of these barns (photos taken 2 years ago) are now torn down. Allegedly, there are no more working farms in North Royalton, so the city has been demo-ing many of these antiquated structures. (Again, Tin pot dictator mayors pushing "modernization. HORSESHIT!! They want to put more developments, with their same looking, particle board constructed houses lining winding, go-nowhere roads up to generate income and real estate tax revenues for corrupt, tin-pot dictator mayors of their suburban fiefdoms.

On second thought:
Maybe returning to the past, to the sleepy little neighborhood some 50 years later isn't a good thing.
Perhaps my moving south an hour, to Perry Twp was the right thing for me. Well, maybe half right. I should have moved FURTHER south. I NEVER liked the city and all the hustle and bustle, and I don't like Canton proper like I don't like the city of Cleveland. My cousin lives in NYC, and my God, I'd go insane there within moments of my arrival.

However, I AM glad I grew up in the little hamlet of North Royalton during my childhood. The size and culture of that little town was JUST RIGHT to grow up in. Not the bulging City it is now. There's not one damn thing I find attractive there now.

You can't go back home? Perhaps you can't.
However, I prefer to say it as I WON'T go back home. The word "Can't" implies a degree of forbiddenness. The word "Won't" implies a degree of will. Being s stubborn old Kraut, the word "WON'T" suits me better. It is my WILL that prohibits my desire to return to that place of my childhood. To do that, I'd have to jump into Doc Brown's DeLorean and trip back 50 years.

From that aspect, I grew up at the right time in the right Hamlet. Land lines only... no Pokemon GO... 3 VHF channels... and innocence.

Ton of Bricks

Sometimes, Life hits you like a Ton of Bricks.

I've spent most of my adult life either seeking, or trying to hold onto relationships. I suddenly realized.... it ain't working. Why? When I'm with someone, I want out. When I'm not with someone, I long for someone.

Further, during the past 4 girlfriends, some 12 years now, I've been a dud stud. The very thing that fractured my first marriage, (sex), is now killing my 3rd of the last 4 relationships.

Background: my affair; the extramarital sex along with the death of trust caused the following:
The lack of trust killed my marriage to Nancy. That was my fault.

The lack of trust killed my rebound marriage to Cheryl. I couldn't trust that she wasn't cheating with old boyfriends,(like she did in her marriages before); nor could I trust that she wasn't trying to alienate me from my kids. Kids won out after a year of marriage.

I waited 16 months before meeting Diana. Sexually we were compatible at first, but 3 years in, E.D. killed my ability there. 3 years later, the itch became too much for her when she went to Michigan to spend a 4 day weekend with a guy she met on line.

I wasn't looking for Love when 4 months later, I met Cheryl for lunch. Within 2 months after that we rekindled. At the very first, we actually could recharge my E.D. plagued batteries. But that faded quickly as she got sicker. So again, another 4 1/2 year drought without sex. In the end, when she died, it pretty much ended my sex life.

After 16 months of no-one, I met Jude. The only thing we had in common was loneliness.. We never really "consummated" our relationship... those were her words. Broke up 3 months in, and rekindled in mid March 2015, she bought her house on Memorial day weekend, moved in with me until September, when we moved to Parma Hts. Within 2 months I received the ultimatum: either retry our relationship, live as roommates, or break up. I didn't realize at the time that the good old trust factor would kick in when she left one September weekend for a 2 week date. I moved in November, 2016. As a side note after that relationship, I later learned just who of my "friends" were double agents, gossiping. Both trust and sex were issues. The thing that perhaps hurt the most was that she moved on with a guy whom I had introduced her to, a trumpet player from Lorain.  However, in January of 2018, that same gossiper I alluded to above then wrote me to tell me she was broken up with that guy and moved on to another guy, announcing a relationship in February, 2018. Two weeks later, another message from the gossip, telling me she's engaged. At this point, no longer caring to hear about it, I said I wished her well. That seemed to cease all her gossiping efforts and now, 9 months later I have yet to hear much of anything from her camp.

Less than a month after that wreckage of a relationship with Jude ended, I was again involved. I think I was flattered mostly. Now a year and 8 months in, sex is non existent. I've told her to go find a fling. I'm not interested. She resisted at first. Then started shopping for a side fuck. Then she stopped until just recently, (October, 2087) when she started up again.

I sense living alone again soon. Sex and trust are issues are the main reason. Cohabitation is the other. However, should I find myself moving again, I think I will shop for apartments with a further distance from Cleveland in mind. The further, the better

Evolution

I feel as if I'm on the precipice again.
I've had this feeling before.
It happens right before an event happens.
I get this feeling, sensing the looming change. This time, I'll be alone again, and once it happens, I'll be alone again.

And it is coming!

Retirement, so far...

Lately, I have been Reflecting where I have come since retiring. 

I am achier, mentally and physically slower, clumsier, and less structured. I don't enjoy Band Photography as much as I did before. Starting over in a place that is an hour away from my gravitational center has triggered an extra 2-3 hours in drive time just to get the gig. Bands are admittedly pickier, due to their having to pay rather than get the photos for free. The bands of today want extra editing, removal of double chins; slenderization of their physiques to remove their weight gains; colorized, cartoon-like photos, distorting the original, pure shots; and so forth. But those are the negatives.

The positives include: a drastically reduced stress level. I'm down from 4, to 2 meds due to the more relaxed method in which I live my life. I wished I could have retired earlier.

My nature photography skills are INCREASING! I've done some of my best nature shots since retiring. It's funny, because Nature was where I began so long ago. Now the passion for it has returned, and with it a second income stream just on the horizon. I've shifted my marketing focus toward Agencies rather than individuals for Nature shots, and toward management and booking agents for the bands. Still, The bands still have some income availability and I still do have repeat customers. 

Neither negative nor positive, just perception of fact:
The fact that I prefer solitude has risen again. The fact that I am an hour away from my friends and seeing their bands is beginning to twinge again.  Bands still don't like to pay, which diminishes the field of customers. 

The age difference has crept into my doubtful file again. Since she is now working two jobs, her income and self esteem have crept up. I suspect her comment the other day about getting an apartment at one of Gary's places (if something happened to me), and her potential for hospitalization with Eve, doing a job working for a company she loves, making 150% of what she used to make there has grown not only her income, but her self esteem as well. I also expect her ex's situation will cause her to eventually leave. She now talks about leaving this house one day instead of buying the place. The possibility of moving northward again has dramatically increased over the past weeks.

I'll write more when I formulate it

Wreckage

The wreckage that is my so-called life has been strewn everywhere.

My first move in 1981 was to make a household for my new wife. Just 15 days before my 1st marriage, Grandpa died. I went into that marriage emotionally wounded, now wrought with familial guilt, knowing Grandma would still need help as well as my father's first step upon what would become his downward spiral for the next 6 years.

For the remainder of the time that my grandma lived in Parma Hts, which was basically as long as Dad was alive, I often took her back and forth to my parents house several times a week until dad died in 1987. It was at that juncture that grandma was institutionalized as the dementia had so completely taken over. After dad's funeral, I never saw grandma again. She died in 1989.

My divorce from Nancy left huge craters in many lives. My sisters were completely unsupportive at first. My mother was "ashamed" and mad when in less than a year, I married Cheryl. Everyone thought Cheryl was the reason. I think my ex and my girls still believe that. However, I couldn't stand the intense fighting between Cheryl and me over the kids, and divorced her for good on 9/14/01, three days after 9/11. I left no personal belongings behind when I left her abruptly on 1/19/2001, just shy of our first anniversary.

However, I left my trust of women on that day. I learned several things from that marriage:
1. second or subsequent marriages have BAGGAGE.
2. I can NEVER completely trust women - or outsiders, again.
3. The PAST of your subsequent partners will ALWAYS rear it's ugly head.
4. MY Past will always do the same for my subsequent partners.
5. I have a rather low "bullshit" threshold - whether her past lovers, husbands or fuck buddies.

Yet, I kept going back to the well.

In 2002, about 8 months post divorce of Cheryl, I met Diana.
In August 2008, and after 6 years and 4 months after hooking up with Diana, I left her when she wanted to go to Michigan to spend a 4 day weekend with a pond guy she met on line. I left a great deal of physical possessions there, not really having the time to plan that get away. In retrospect, I know now that she was much more openly promiscuous than I. Just prior to our meeting she had a fling with a native guy the Dominican republic. Had I been more alert, I would have recognized the brewing undercurrents of her lust at the first time he called her back. She had spent about a half hour giggling on the phone with him and when she hung up, she giggled and sighed, "men". I inquired what that was all about with a high jealousy factor in my voice. Her response? "Don't worry, it'd only be a fling". Later that fall, when her Buffy the Vampire Slayer group came to Akron (some from as far away as England), she offered up her home to one of the cute guys from England. Her response? Well, you can't blame an old girl for trying to fulfill a fantasy."

Other "hints" arose prior to her planned Michigan fling. The way she blended into the male classmates during my 2004 reunion, picking up guys left and right during both nights. Some of the classmates came forward after news spread that we had broken up in '08. It was sobering to hear that she was seen on the arm of three different guys at the reunion, and she admitted to me that she kissed one of the band members in a dark corner. I was never sure where I stood with her. She had the honor of being the hottest girlfriend I ever had. BUT: speaking of "sobering", she was an alcoholic. Bottle of Kahlua every night, kind of alcoholic!! I couldn't keep up with her sex drive, or her drinking. In leaving her, I left a number of possessions.

3 months after my departure from Diana, Cheryl and I rekindled. It lasted from November when we first met for lunch until she died 4/17/2013. There was all kinds of wreckage from her death, and over 5 years later, I still feel it. Since Cheryl, both girlfriends felt as if they couldn't hold their own with a memory.

A year and 3 months after Cheryl's death, I guess I had been lonely. I met and started dating Jude. We had fun at first, but I broke it off in November, having too much post Cheryl guilt. We rekindled again on St Patricks day, 2015. I helped her buy a house, and was the chief floor fixer upper. However, one month after moving in, and with the death of her cat, our relationship died when she recommended I sleep in a second room. I later found out, she befriended one of the musicians I introduced her to on my birthday. This coincided with her ultimatum of: Continue the relationship; break up and remain roommates; or go our separate ways. I resisted the ultimatum until around may, after she had sufficiently recovered from her surgery. By June, 2016, she was going out on her own. By September, she started dating him, and was home approximately 14 nights from 9/21/16 until my departure on 1/16. Bit by bit, she had moved her possessions and cat out to his house until I left. This break up was strangely reminiscent of my last 2 break ups, only this time, I was the one already dumped.

I moved back to Royalton with NO INTENTIONS OF EVER DATING AGAIN. Relationships for almost 20 years had not been my forte.

Then, Heather busted into my life. It seems I had come to the conclusion that with her entrance, and need of advice, I had found my spot in life: Since the age of 12, I was a caretaker of sorts. I helped Cheryl with the farm; Diana buy a house, fix up the house, dug her a pond, interviewed and finally booked the contractor for the fence; adopted a pet for her, and so much more. Rekindling with Cheryl was a lengthy rehelping her: to get divorced; bankruptcy to keep her car; introduced her into taking band pix and find her second condo as well as her third; and finally, holding her while she died; Jude I helped her get a house as well as worked her yard; Heather needed divorce advise, and use of a computer to find countless jobs. I'm still helping her today, with her custody issues.

Mow, retired for going on 7 months, I never see and seldom ever hear from my family. I've moved an hour away and honestly, have lost almost all interest in shooting band photos. I seek ways to make money off my nature photography. Pretty much everything in my life has been wrecked:  I've had 3 chapter 7 bk's; 3 chapter 13 Bk's; 2 of 3 homes were foreclosed; many possessions gone: tools, ladders, even car ramps left behind, and 3 drum sets sold in order to make ends meet.

In a lot of ways, I'm a failure. In other ways, an explorer of life's roads. ..... AND A LOT OF WRECKAGE left in my wake.

Turnstiles

I have been on many Turnstiles.

My first turnstile was continuous from the age of 12 to 31. Any help dad needed, I was there to be that help. Little did I know that I was forming my own life path. This occurred even after my marriage and up until dad's death in 1981. From that point on, I was helping mom in a multitude of ways. However, the helping turnstile ceased in late 1994 until the end of 1998, with my departure from the marriage.

1999, I met Cheryl. My first mission of penance (for my divorce) was to be there and help her get through her post surgery home / farm set up. For two years, I was everything from farm hand to grass cutter to hospital chauffeur. After not being able to see my kids, I moved back home in 2001.

From 2001 to 2007, I was mom's helper. First negotiating her settlement of credit card debts with the reverse mortgage, Then, housework, or arranging of it. As my finances grew stronger after the 2nd bankruptcy and divorce, I began to be her cook, paid some of the bills and so forth, In 2007, I even helped her die by signing the DNR for the hospice.

From 2002, I pulled double duty, also helping Diana. Finding her the ability to finance and purchase her house, and continuing to beautify it, increase it's functionality, assisting in securing a privacy fence contractor after I paid for the adoption of Lily; installing her pond and then later, expanding it; installing the back yard sump pump to drain the excess water splashed over the neighbor's pool, as well as a multitude of other projects. That came screeching to a halt on labor day, 2008, when she asked me to dog sit Lily while she went for a 4 day weekend up to central Michigan to spend a weekend with a guy she met on line. I was finished.

After a brief hiatus, I had wished Cheryl Happy Birthday in the late fall of 2008. That spurred on a lunch meeting, following by my real estate connections to help her find a condo to live in. following her separation, we gradually grew back together and my repairman ways continued, and my things were finally moved across town in June of 2010. I continued on my Helper Turnstile while being her hospital chauffeur and all around main source of income, and relegated to photography equipment hauler. After her death in April, 2013, I had begun the process of moving back to the west side, finally doing so in December of that year.

From 2008 to 2015, I had become subservient to Sammy, not only shooting all his photography. I was still on the helper turnstile in that regard. However, in the process, I became more and more resentful of the fact that I was giving my photos away for free. That ended in 2015, when I decided to flip the switch and go pro only.

In July of 2014, I met Jude and after 4 months, broke up feeling guilty as it was so close to Cheryl's death. We got back together in March of 2015 and I moved her in in June of 2015. In May, I had spent time with her on her home purchase process. The bid was accepted and title transferred in mid-July. I then willingly climbed back on to the helper turnstile, stripping and refinished the hardwood throughout the first floor. We painted all the walls and restored the bathroom. By October, the "honeymoon" period had ceased when her cat died after slipping and breaking her back.

From that point on, Jude was even more antagonistic than she was argumentative before. The relationship deteriorated. By Christmas - ultimatums were issued. Her birthday was worse, as she'd just had surgery, and by June, all communication ceased. In September, she notified me she was going out on a date and not to wait up. That night, I saw photos on Facebook of her and Jamie together, and she didn't return home until the following Tuesday. I was making plans to leave but the apartment was not going to be ready until 12/1. Ultimately, she stayed away from her own home for most of the remaining months there. I moved on 11/11 and swore off any future involvements. That lasted just a short time.

I was ultimately chased down by a girl 18 years younger, (Heather). By the new year, we had started seeing each other when she had convinced me she was divorcing her husband and already separated since late September. I was back on the helper turnstile.

I guess my mission in life is to assist  or help others....

A degree of transition

Crossroads come and they go. They make up our lives.

Events of the past have preoccupied me lately. Mostly because of the 5th year anniversary of Cheryl's passing on 4/17/18. Others because I feel somewhat nostalgic.

I posted late 4/17 on the 5th year of Cheryl's passing, keeping several obvious people off the post. (Heather and her family that I am friends with; My sister Linda as well). You know, the once highly supportive Cleveland Music community panned the post for the most part. At this moment, only 6 reactions were registered. These alleged friends, were apparently nothing of the sort. Quite a sobering realization.

Our move to Massillon isolated us in many ways, including the music community. Invites by band members to their events are down. When we DO venture out and listen to bands, they seem shocked that we travel "all that way" just to see them. We've heard that more than once.

My retirement has slowed me down quite a bit. I daresay, I no longer feel the pulse in my ears, which means my blood pressure is down. While that is good, other things are quite alarming. My balance is GONE! My dexterity, GONE! In three months since retiring, I have very little motivation to do anything.

Paying Photography gigs are down. That has less to do with the move and more to do with the change in the industry toward digital DJs and tracks. Bars collapse everywhere due to mis-management and the band venues go with them. Bands no longer wish to PAY for photos. They'd rather use the fans' cell phones. I don't foresee band photography in any great amount in the near future. Doors that were always open in the past (wanting free photos) are closing. I still feel that the future of bar music is in artists who play their own originals.

Speaking of doors closed.
In 2014, feeling lonely, I pursued a relationship with the most toxic person I have ever met. Jude was highly conflicted and gave off such a confusing aura that I mistook it for her being mysterious. In truth, she was an emotionally arrested and confused child. After breaking up before moving in together, our shared life dwindled within a month of our move in and we began the year long task of separating her stuff and mine. She literally ran off with Jaime, a friend I introduced her to, leaving her own home during the final three months of my stay, until my apartment were ready. This truly was one relationship I should have NEVER pursued.

Over the Christmas holidays, she attempted to PM Heather, trying to contract me. (I have completely blocked her on all media and my phone). Then, about a month and a half ago, I get a PM from Vicky Meany that she dumped Jaime in January for another guy. I politely bowed out of the conversation, wishing her well. It seems that response wasn't enough, as 2 weeks later Vicky was back with further info stating they were engaged. (As if I were to drop what I was doing and scurry back). Again, I politely wished her well and declined to discuss the topic further. My illusions of Vicky being a concerned friend vanished, being replaced by the words Gossip and Busy Body. I was very disappointed in her.

At this juncture, I no longer fear the results of my move here, and rather am turning my attention toward the future.
The more bands I shot, the more prima-donna egos I ran into. Shooting photos of mother nature, there are no egos - therefore, no stress. It would appear that I have accepted my new home base and are looking at horizons in 360 degrees for new adventures.

I daresay I'll never shoot the likes of Ace Molar, Dave's Planet and the like again. Since they don't play for free, I'll not shoot for free. The saddest realization is that I was nothing more than a gear grunt, and free publicity for them for a seven year period from 2009 thru 2015. Many other bands stepped up to the plate, just not them. That stings a bit, but I can't dwell on my mistakes.

I have a gig Saturday, in Cleveland. We'll see what transpires. It could be my last - or a bridge toward more in the future.
Time will tell.

In the meantime, I am emotionally closing the door on the past. Some of my larger mistakes are too painful to reminisce.

Times past

I had honestly forgotten about this place.

When I left off, I was still stinging from the broken relationship. I had sworn off women, and promised I'd never cohabitate again.Then came Heather. Just about a month after the decision to leave Jude's place, she introduced herself and we started seeing each other, only after she assured me that she was getting a divorce.

Much has happened since.

On 11/3/17, we moved to Massillon, so she could be closer to her twin girls.It's a really nice house and yard, quiet street, backs up to a ravine, and the rent isn't terrible.

January 19th, after much deliberation and having turned 62, I retired. The income is actually more than my net pay, and the cost of fuel to drive to Cleveland every day.

We now have a dog, Dot.

About a month ago, I received a series of messages from Vicki Meany, regarding Jude. First she said Jude dumped Jaime in January for another guy. Then, she messaged back about a week later, stating she was now engaged. In each message response, I took the high road, stating I hoped she was happy and doing well. I then changed the message conversation.

On the 24th of April, I go before the Bankruptcy judge once again, this time, in Stark county. Hopefully, this will be my last trip there. Everything is going this time. EVERYTHING! I got a beater, 2005 Chevy Blazer to replace my Santa Fe. I paid $1800 cash from my 401k proceeds that I cashed out.

Prior to moving here, Heather moved in to my one bedroom. She was happy at first but her glee receded as time went on and her anxiety set in. She still deals with it but is managing to learn how to control it herself.

My retirement is sheer joy. It permits me to go out and take photos as often as weather permits. To me, this is heaven!

While i now have time to reflect, I see that both my 2nd marriage and reconciliation, along with my relationship with Jude were out of loneliness, period. I never sought Heather out, she found me. We do many of the same things and clique together, except when she's anxious. She's learning how to deal with it without so many meds.   Diana was a lengthy process of seeking out not only a girlfriend, but someone to do fun stuff with. Alcohol and growing apart killed that relationship. I now realize the single incident that triggered my marriage to Nancy as well: Don Cerino's question asking me, "are you gonna marry that girl, or what?" That question made me realize that I was late in the process and at age 24, had not married like so many of my peers of my age.

I now realize with E.D., age, retirement and all that life has now thrown me, should I ever wind up alone again, I'd be OK with it. I'd find an apartment - probably back at Pine Forest, and live my remaining years alone.

Another realization: My bankruptcies were event related.

1999 - Chapter 7 due to divorce. Was responsible for $2250 in monthly support payments - needed to make room for me to exist.

2001 - Chapter 13 due to 2nd divorce. Clearly, Marriage and me don't mix.

2009 - Chapter 7 due to house inheritance incorporating Mom's reverse mortgage - inheriting house after hear 2007 death.

2012 - Chapter 13 due to loss of self employed income and Cheryl's illness. Due to new BK Laws, this one was not dischargable

2013 - restated 2012 Chapter 13 to attain discharge

2018 - Chapter 7 - due to retirement, extension of the 2013 Chapter 13 for another year and a half beyond 5 year discharge; Medical Copays due to that fucking Obamacare

After all is said and done, if I rid myself of relationships and credit cards, I should be fine and out of the BK Court!

So, while there are those who scoff at my early retirement, I relish in the time I now have for ME!

The rest of my time here is for my own enjoyment