» This page is PART TWO, continued from » Part One. This entry was broken into FOUR pages in order to adhere to principles of web site optimization. Here you go...
Meanwhile, others are left trying to deal with the effects of their dysfunction (.. both parental and also generally).
Over the years the Dog and I have had many conversations about parents and parenting.
From both sides of the parenting fence. Both as parents, and as the children of parents.
For example, he told me how it is his wife (the Czech-girl) who holds together their marriage.
"If it were up to me, Dog," he said, "this wouldve been over long ago."
One of the most memorable stories that I have about the Dog .. involves him "walking away" .. from a situation that he felt had deteriorated sufficiently.
It is beyond the scope of today's entry .. but let me just suggest here that » nobody walks away (3,000 miles) quite like the Dog.
So .. this girl, his wife, who I've never met .. must be good at what she does. Cuz I've never seen a woman who can hold on to the Dog for more than a few months. (With no do-overs.)
In this regard, the Dog's Czech wife reminds me of the Film school girl .. cuz she knew how to handle me. She knew how to deal with me. And she was probably the best at knowing how to make a relationship work .. of anybody I ever knew.
Most girls would say » "You make me crazy." To which I would usually respond » "Think how *I* feel." [ « Yes, that's a guy-joke .. but only because of the kernel of truth it contains. ]
In other words .. I'm not trying to make you crazy. So it's not like I am unsympathetic. No, ma'am. Not at all.
The Film school girl would say » "You gotta have something in the relationship that you are both CREATING .. either together or separately. Otherwise the relationship deteriorates and dies. If you have no kids together, you need to create something else. Something you love. Something that stirs your bliss."
She Made Me an Offer » I Couldnt Refuse
This is the same girl, by the way, from my Statistics class, who I got to know when she made me an offer I couldnt refuse .. massages in exchange for tutoring.
She totally had the massage magic. Altered-state magic. She said that the magic in a good massage comes from » intention. (Notice that intention involves directed consciousness.)
Remind me to tell you the story about my first massage .. when she poured that warm oil all the way down my spine, beginning at the base of my neck .. and ending » in the crack of my butt.
"Ooh, this is gonna be a good massage," I thought. "I can tell already. I wonder if she meant to pour that oil in the crack of my butt, like that? Or did she accidentally go a little too far?"
I had never felt anything quite like that, I must say. Major altered state of consciousness. Like you did not think possible.
I've had her clients tell me (more than once), "I've been getting massages for a long time and she's the best of the best." Like she had a gift for it. She told me that the best massage she ever got herself was at Esalen (.. up in Big Sur).
The first time I came over to her house, she had a place with a view you would have to see to believe. Jaw-dropping. In Laguna. "How does this girl make this kind of stuff happen?" I wondered.
On the ocean-side of PCH. At 10th-Street. Which is known locally as "Thousand-steps." Tho really only 238. Or was it 214? I counted them more than once.
Anyway, she had her own private walk down to the beach. A goat path. One of the nicest beaches in Laguna.
[ The property has since been purchased, I heard, by the guy who runs General Dynamics, who owned the property adjacent .. directly south. I heard he paid $1.1 million for it.
So he just made his own property a little bigger. Somebody told me that he built an art studio for his wife on it. ]
And she was playing James Brown when I arrived. Pretty loud. "Good music to clean the house by."
I did not want to get involved, cuz I wanted to focus on my classes that semester (Statistics, Calculus & a 7-unit Chemistry class .. the one for doctors and engineers). But she was interesting enough that my curiosity got the best of me. "I have never met a girl like this before."
When I met her (.. she walked up to my desk after class) .. she was sleeping with her Statistics book under her pillow ..
.. as tho the formulas might magically levitate themselves into her consciousness.
I'm like, "Uh, that's not how it works."
[ Perhaps now you can understand why some have suggested that I am the one who got the Film school girl thru Film school. Especially grad school, where the focus is on » doing .. rather than » learning.
This came from others. Not me.
She worked very hard. Amazingly hard. She would dump a handful of Advil into the front pocket of her jeans at 6AM and say » "See ya tonight. I should be home by ten or eleven. And then I'll need to edit video for a few hours."
And then do it again the next day. And the next. Boundless energy.
She would drag your ass into the bedroom, throw you down and have her way with you .. until you were exhausted, begging for mercy.
"Have I got a special treat for you." ]
She says, "I'm not a math person. But I need this stupid Statistics class for my degree path. How do you know this shit? You're the only one in the whole class who seems to get this guy."
"I read ahead a few chapters," I said. "So I know the general flavor of what's coming. But the way that he teaches what is contained in the book seems designed to confuse, rather than clarify."
Statistics, as I encountered it, is about knowing which formula to apply in order to solve your problem. Once you know that .. the rest was easy .. cuz I could show her which buttons to press on a calculator.
That impressed her. She went from clueless to button-pushing Statistics wiz. I could see that she wanted to throw me down right then-n-there and have her way with me. (I jest, yes, but not entirely.)
She had two brothers, one older, one younger. No sisters. Thus reinforcing my point about tomboys. "Before I met you," she later told me, "I never owned a pair of high-heels."
The kicker came one day after a different class, when I stopped by her house unannounced. On PCH at Crown Valley, I could turn left to go home or right to her house.
Spur-of-the-moment I turned right, and she happened to be home. The door was open. "Hello?" I called out.
She came around the corner and when she saw me, a great smile broke across her face. (Her dad was a dentist, so she had great teeth.) How can you stay away from someone who you know is genuinely glad to see you?
I digress. But that was fun, nonetheless. It's always fun when a girl pours warm sesame oil down your spine and into the crack of your butt .. by candlelight. Let me tell you.
This is also the girl who took me on my best vacation ever. "We're throwing all our stuff in storage," she said, ..
.. "and you're coming with me this summer. I'm going to show your military-industrial ass things it has never seen.
First we're heading up to Big Sur for some camping at Pfeiffer and a special treat at Deetjen's.
We probably wont be able to get into the Benedictine Hermitage .. but we can try.
Maybe we'll be able to score a few nights at one of the two environmental sites .. where you have to hike everything in.
Then we head over and meet the kids and their friends at Yosemite ..
.. where we hike to the top of Half Dome on my birthday during a meteor shower.
By the time we return, I'll have you hugging trees and eating sushi and drumming in drum-circles around a fire at the beach. You can run but you can't hide. Just watch and see. Your military-industrial ass is mine."
She was playfully competitive like that. My point » she knew how to handle me. But back to the Dog.
» The Dog Confronts His Parents
The Dog also told me how, after many years, he approached his parents .. about some of the behaviors he had endured while growing up there in Hoboken (like Marques).
"They totally denied it," he said. "They denied everything .. like they had total amnesia."
"That was very courageous of you, Dog," I said. "It must have been very hard." You can lead a horse to water...
He was hoping for some kind of apology .. to help him get beyond the mis-treatment he endured as a child. But it was not coming. Are you surprised?
[ It is beyond the scope of today's entry, but I never cease to be amazed at the ability of some to forget shit they find uncomfortable. This 'forgetting' looks genuine to me. Sometimes I am tempted to be jealous .. because of what Nietzsche said. ]
» The Girl at the Gas Station in San Clemente at Midnight
I know only ONE person .. who ever had a Confronted-Parent respond in a way that brought any degree of comfort or healing. A girl, tho I am not talking about the Film school girl. No. (That's another story, entirely.)
And I must say .. this girl who confronted her dad about shit that had fucked her up ..
.. she was definitely a wow-girl.
Very interesting. Very sexy. Very different.
She had been to galaxies I didnt even know existed. (And to some cold and desolate planets).
Irresistible chemistry. Made my hormones do things I did not think possible. Electricity in her fingertips. Like she had the combination to my safe. So intuitive.
"How can such a thing be possible? How do you know me so well? Who are you, really?"
I will tell you a secret if you promise not to tell anybody » this girl *is* the nuclear-grade lace-top thigh-high girl. Well .. she was the original, anyway.
She opened my eyes in many ways. She was bi-sexual. And older women were craving her stuff (she once lamented).
Rad note » the section of today's entry that deals with the Wow Girl is so different from the rest of the entry that I transferred the contents to its own, separate entry .. see here » The Wow Girl.
At the end of that entry, I provide a link to return you here to the exact spot from which this text was lifted.
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