Subj: Ummmm
Date: 95-11-06 00:27:09 EST
To: El Polvo

Dear Dustbowl,

Ya'at'eeh. That was mighty satisfying writing that woman does, man I was right there with her, felt her feelings, saw the country, she is really good. How do I get more of her writing? Does she put this out on the Net? How does that work? I could share some of my stuff sometime if you would be willing to take me step by step thru the process. I never was good at techincal stuff and at my advanced age am even less so. I did buy the Official America Online for Mac Users tour guide and will look into that. But mind you, sometimes it seems to be written in Navajo, I mean that is the way my brain perceives it. Freeze out.

Had a dream the other night where there are these vehicles parked at some terminus in the mountains side by side, including the RV. Marilyn is there, you are, there is a backstory and an on-going story I forget, but I remember needing to move a new vehicle out of there, a newly arrived vehicle that is big but I can't remember details of, and when I get into it it starts to roll backward, although that is uphill and swings around so the end is headed back toward the cluster of other vehicles I think, although it doesn't impact when it should have, it just picks up speed. I am trying to move my hands to steer and my feet to brake but they are heavier than the sun. I am afraid of backing into the RV particularly.

Tell me about your Toyota, and howcome you settled for it when you wanted a van? What sort of boolshit is that?

My biggest thing right now is continuing to let go of the steering wheel and let the vehicle take me where it wants. I've given up trying to drive my destiny. It takes so much energy and the good stuff is always easy, right? So maybe that's what I want to keep an eye out to, is it easy and is it fun, and if the answer is Yes then keep on doing it till something easier and funner comes along. That a good philosophy?

Marilyn is still beautiful but burned out maybe from so much work for so long, so much service to others, so many disappointments, including me. Here she is with two kids and her travel plans shot to hell, no romance, no fun, just kids and me sort of tuning her out when she gets upset or confused. I want to be better but I'm sort of upset with her when she can't track or deal with the kids, or judges me in my dealings with them. She forgets, can't find her glasses, or the paper she wants to read. She's depressed, in climacteric, retired after 4000 years of continual work and pressure, she has shown the world a cheery side that is unblemished, she's a cheerleader, upbeat, but that's on the downside now and age is dragging her down with a deep dry kiss and it doesn't feel good. On top of all that she is far away from her beloved ocean, her academic cronies, the one season climate, plenty of sun, and I am like I am when she really needs a cheer leader guy with unblemished love and support for her. It's hard, mate. She's my lady but it's hard for her to feel it since I'm so distant. I hate that in me. She is almost continually worried about money and she recycles everything including food and clothes (you ever seen a hole-y sock turned into an overcoat?) I can hack it, get used to it, see the blessing and the humor in it, it's good copy to write about should I ever want to, but here's the deal, she wears her disappointment on her sleeve. She is beautiful with the kids and me when that magic comes out of her but she doesn't trust me about anything--Is that where you want that nail?--and she is critical about everything, much of it unspoken but the judgement is so powerful my shirt cuffs occasionally burst into flame for no apparent reason. On top of all that she is absolutely terrified and fascinated by Cai the kids' mother and her brand of venom. Cai has no empathy, she cannot project her feelings beyond her person and she knows only how to go about getting what she wants, sort of arrested development around age 5 or so, tantrums, shoutings over the phone and mails, circular talking, lying and a genius at knowing how to mix things up. Marilyn is like a junkie with Cai her poison. With all this, from M's pov, the Cai, the kids, the husband with the young beard that makes him look old, the hovel in the sticks, the uprootedness of it all, the cold, the distancing from her of the man she loves, the retirement, I mean, well, you know, it's hard and she is getting through it but it isn't getting any better. Crucified is the word that comes to mind -- her, not me.

Thanks again a lot for sending me Motorcycle Mama King's piece, I'd love to spend some days with her on that Ural discovering her dimensions, I mean as in her life, not that other stuff you're thinking. Although my arms around her waist isn't going to hurt anyone. And if my hands get too cold with the wind I could sorta...Now stop that Dusty, dammit!

Well Net-pal, young cronie to the old fozz, you roust some good thoughts. Hear?

Joseph Campanella

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