This week has been a weird journey. My Allyson had the surgery she needed, and though I send my love, a mama ought to be there in person. But I can't be. Poverty does that. My eldest nephew has a serious operation coming up, and again I can't be there. So what do I do? I do what I can. I write. And I help other writers when I can.
An author contacted me about a blog I wrote about Herman Slater, who used to be my boss. That contact, and consequent limp down memory lane made me want to find certain people. One of those people being Wayne K, who lived with Herman the last 2 years he was around. I went to the Childe website where I saw Wayne was looking for me, too. So I googled. That led me to a writers' site, which will be hugely useful to me once I find Wayne. I've left Wayne messages every way I could, including his blog right here on blogspot.
Dammit Wayne, I've missed the hell outta you. I read you're hitched and wrote at least one book- Hot Damn! Congrats! We have years to catch up on. Comment here, leave yr email addy- I moderate, so I'll get it in my email & not publish it (of course). Can't wait to hear from you!!! And I have shit to tell you, and a secret to clear up.
Update: I talked to Wayne the night before last. It was like we'd spoken last week rather than 16 years ago. Finally, I straightened out something that'd been eating at me for 18 years. And if all goes well, he and his wife will come vacation here next year. There's something about old friends, even moreso when you're among the last survivors of a certain experience, that's oddly comforting.
An Alarming Situation.
16 hours ago