Here I am doing it again, jumping to the past.
In 1956 Lois was with her clique and claque in the Coffee Shoppe of the music department every day. Me too, with John Patrick on my lap.
In her group were the star students of Kilenyi and his teacher _____________.
Among them was Jim Stafford, her squeeze at the time.
In 1975 Lois and I lived on Mohawk Ave. in Tampa. John Patrick was visiting, though he was not welcome in the house.
I had been to the Lee something or other clinic for a vasectomy, thinking it might sweeten our relationship if she wasn’t afraid of getting pregnant.
“He looks like a black bird scurrying up to get his mail every day.”
He lived in his VW van called Wolfram. Worked with me and Larry, installing Venetian blinds.
That same year we made a family trip to California. My 3 kids from Donna, plus Allison. Lois stayed on Mohawk with Jim Stafford, back in the picture.
“You don’t need that woman,” he told me coming back from Orlando.
“Which woman?” I asked.
We all went together to her father’s funeral, Lois, Jim, and me, in my tan suite with a hole in the seam of the seat, showing my red shorts when I bent over to offer my condolences to the family
In 1976 I returned to Mallorca, without Lois, but with Allison. And then began the rest of my life. (Put in quote from Hecate County).
I was 41 years old, fed up with women, and then I met S.
– Part of a collection of pieces Patrick sent me on 11 August 2015 called You Never Know.