Dear Mom and Dad: Today I got some really good news, which I’ll keep to myself for now. In case you hadn’t heard, I signed up with a fake publicity firm that stole almost $40,000 from me. The guy who runs the company has no background in the publishing industry. What happened was that Tim…
A letter to Mom and Dad, Part Two
January 16, 2014
My letter to Mom and Dad continues. 28. On April 14, Mom, you came home. You refused to eat or exercise, even though you’d been told over and over that you needed to do so in order to be a good candidate for chemotherapy. We fought about it, and you accused us of criticizing you….
It was all for nothing
January 12, 2014
It hit me today: Just like trying to save Mom and Dad, trying to publicize Ghosts and Ballyhoo was a waste of time. It was all for nothing. Tim and I are doing some cleaning up before we have the houses appraised. We’re having to throw away things that represent so much futility. Neither Mom…
Caring is never wasted
January 3, 2014
Today I read “Al-Qaeda-linked force captures Fallujah amid rise in violence in Iraq.” The writers get a few facts wrong. For one thing they claim that only the US Marines fought in the Second Battle of Fallujah (November 7 to December 23, 2004). In reality army, navy, and air force units were present. The statement…
A gift from the boogeyman
December 25, 2013
One of the scariest people I ever knew was a man I’ll call “Miguel,” who lived across the street from us. He was a former gang member who looked and sounded exactly like the actor Danny Trejo. Miguel was married and had three children. He was a mechanic and truck driver, and he suffered from…
The first Christmas without Mom and Dad
December 24, 2013
This is the first Christmas without Mom and Dad. What I feel mostly is strangeness. When you get to be old yourself—I’m fifty-one—it’s incredibly bizarre to no longer have access to people who were there your whole life. Dad’s dying process was so sudden, unnecessary, and ghastly that when he finally passed away, it was…
A forgotten memory resurfaces
December 13, 2013
Mom saved all my letters. I found them in a box marked “Tom’s letters,” sensibly enough. Mom didn’t always write such precise descriptions on her many, many, many boxes. Most are unmarked, or they say, “Memorabilia,” or “Photos.” Even the boxes marked “Wictor photos,” for example, have lots of non-Wictor images in them. Tonight, in…