Fresh and clean

My second trip to Arizona went much smoother than the last.

I left on Friday October 22 at 5:30 am. I loaded up the Toyota with the remainder of my junk, whatever clothes I had left in the state, and my traveling posse of Charles Finkelstein and Magdalene Mayfield- AKA Charlie and Maggie, my 2 smelly dogs.

It was overall an un-eventful trip. The truck ran fine, the dogs slept most of the way, the strippers and hookers left me alone, and we all three arrived safe and sound.

The only speed bump, and I mean that quite literally, was Charley’s deposit of the previous nights re-cycled dinner on the lawn in front of the Bakersfield Auto Zone. California had been my home all of my life.

I have some very fond memories, some not so fond, some down right terrifying, and some memories that don’t exist.

Much of the late eighties and early nineties are a big blur, melting into aches and pains and some scars.

Not that I didn’t have fun because I think at times I did. I met some fascinating people, did some amazing things, and made some life long friends.

But I also wasted a lot of time- time I will never get back. I always wonder when I hear people say things like “well, I’m not proud of what I did, but I don’t regret anything I’ve done” or stuff like that. Trust me- there is much I am not proud of, there are many things I am downright ashamed of, there are many days, shoot, months that I wish I could jump in the way-back-machine and completely erase.

I view my move as a way to start fresh- not that I am running away from anything- trust me, those records will be around for many years to come and the pictures will last even longer. I just thought that it would be best to wipe some slates clean- to start with a clean page and see what tumbles out.
A sort of parole if you will. I don’t know if it’s the altitude, the fresh air, or what.

I just know I’m breathing a whole lot easier now.