Ultimately, this is about my journey through life and all the barely visited little corners that I have somehow managed to explore. You are invited to read all of the articles on the theory that if you like one, odds are you’ll like more. Check the Topics List to the right. Tales of Zenji, Dark Corners and Dr. Emoto crystals are my favorites…and if you like poetry, look at “Ozymandias” or “humanity i love you” under Great Poetry.
And by the way, there is some very deep shit going on right now and maybe it’s time for all of us to observe it, acknowledge it, and deal with it. You’ll find me trying to explain the situation in Dark Corners. And I urge you to read the articles under Hughes if you’d like to see the background on how I met Richard Hughes back in 1975.
Now as for me….I am just a little girl from Long Island. Any of you ever been to Bay Shore? You catch the ferry there to get to Fire Island.
Long ago, Long Island was a heavily forested sand bar that specialized in growing potatoes. After World War II, the potato farms were rapidly replaced by housing tracts for returning GIs. My dad was one of those most heroic men who were sent in their tender teen years into some of the most ferocious battles in human history. My father was sent to the Japanese “theater” and returned with the ability to procure a VA home loan. My parents looked at Levittown first but stumbled upon a model home in Bay Shore that had more house and yard for the same money. It was a single level brick home and we weathered many a hurricane and many a blizzard huddled in that house on Howell’s Road.
Many years after I left Bay Shore, I had the honor of getting to know the actor Burgess Meredith who spoke to me of his boyhood growing up in….Bay Shore, of all places. It is such a tiny town yet his parents lived there when he was fourteen years old. Burgess was such an awesome personality. He was in his late seventies when I met him and he had a wonderful home in Malibu right on the beach next to Larry Hagman.
Komodo Ovens
I’ll never forget the time Burgess called and invited us to his house for Thanksgiving. We were so thrilled. When we arrived, he was cooking two turkeys outside in his Komodo ovens. He took one of the turkeys out, wrapped it up and got into his car yelling at us to enjoy ourselves as he backed down the driveway. There was nothing in the house to go with the turkey and all the stores were closed! (He had been invited to a friend’s house.) He was so adorably eccentric… an opinion that I developed while floating around in his sunken hot tub, sipping wine and listening to the ocean waves crashing against the back wall. My stomach was growling but I didn’t care.
Burgess as The Penguin
