There aren't enough drugs to make me feel better.

6/14/01 3 a.m.

Brief note here. I pulled an all-nighter last night. I have this site due supposedly on Friday. And I'm busting my ass to get it done. And of course, I'm doing it for about a quarter of what it's worth. Or at least what a "real" company would charge. But I like the people.

Anyway. Follow-up to Talky from the yard sale. He showed up Monday night around six. Stood outside the iron gate, which I didn't open. He was all excited about a box of stuff he'd found in his uncle's garage. More camera equipment. Odd lenses and cameras. Some ntriguing things. But I told him I was all Nikon'ed up and I was trying not to spend money. He said "Just spend it with me." And got that crazy look. Oh, and I smelled the alcohol. Which I believe I didn't mention on Saturday. He always seems to be a little ripped. He mentioned he was really happy to meet my daughter and her friend. Anyway, I had to get back to work, so he only hung around for a few more minutes. And then he shoved his hands through the bars in the gate and offered his hand. My new buddy. I shook it and left.

The next mornng, as I was heading off to a meeting, Jack, the old guy down the street, called me. I got out of the car. Very agitated and out of breath. And a little angry. Talky had mentioned that Jack had Alzheimer's. So, I walked over to Jack. He said, "Don't do my nephew any favors."

I said that he had mentioned some cameras, and that looking at them wasn't any inconvenience. Jack wouldn't listen. "Don't give him any money. "

I asked him what was wrong. He said he was just coming from the Police Station. Talky had apparently gotten into a big fight with someone at the pre-school across the street. A real screaming, insane, drunk fight. And I guess the police took him away.

I asked Jack when his nepew had moved in. A couple of months ago. He'd been evicted and the rest of the family offered Jack's house. A guy in his 80's with Alzheimer's. Sounds ideal for a criminal. Jack said he was going to let his nephew help him get rid of a few more things. Antiques. And then Jack was going to get rid of his nephew. He re-emphasized that he didn't want me to give him any money. No prob. I went off to my meeting.

I flashed on Talky's hand reaching between the bars to shake my hand. It had seemed awkward and a little weird when it happened. But I suppose he'd probably reached through a lot of bars in his day.

And then again, I was the one on the inside.

Final projects are due in class tonight. Should be interesting. Oh. And the UCLA Extension arts office has asked me to shoot the cover of the next new classes brochure. The head of the department seems to like those weird polaroid mistake photos. Good things.

And then father's day is coming. spread some ashes. think a lot. anyway. shit... i'm in a weakened mode. and it's after two.


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