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Here I am again – Wives and other stuff

I’m on my 3rd wife.  It took me 3 rise to find my soul mate, and I had to rip her away from another to keep her.

My first wife, Bea Trix, is an import from Yugoslavia.  She cam over as a small child with her mother and stepfather.  Her father was a cabinetmaker and eventually they moved to Grand Rapids, Michigan, where he found lots of work.  Her mother was a house maker, taking care of her only child.Bea was very pretty.  I met her through my sister, who went to the same school.  This was a gonad marriage;  I married her to keep her from going out with other men.  Unfortunately, I found that this did not stop her.  When I found this out, I divorced her – I should have had it annulled, as we were together (after marriage) for only about 6 months.  Another thing..she was younger than me, about 3 years, and this trend will continue, more or less until I am where I am.  She took off with a one-ey,ed 30+  year old (I was 21 at the time) that I was working for that summer.she took my cat too.  After that, I head from her a few years later, she was living in a single-wide in Harrisburg, PA, with her baby.  She was still with the one-eyed get, but her was out of town.  I took the time to visit her, and we had fun in bed for one night and day, and then I went back to Philadelphia where I was working.  I hear she’s divorced and living in Hawaii with her kids.  My sister is still in touch with her, but since I am not in touch with my sister, I have no idea what’s up.

I then rebounded to a cute young girl (a fomer junior miss of PA) whom I met while working at the York little theater.  Yes, folks, I was an actor.  I played many parts as I was a very quick sudsy.  I could memorize my lines for a ply in a couple of days where most of the actors took weeks to learn their parts. The only thing I couldn’t do is sing.  When the troupe was doing  musical, I mostly mouthed the songs and couldn’t do any of the leads.  I was mostly a sword carrier type, with perhaps, a speaking part or two.  I was pretty go at putting on my own makeup.  Anyway, I met this girl and she was fantastic.  In bed and out.  She had recently been de-flowered by a local television weatherman (had a bad toupee), and eventually she went back to him.  We did go as far as getting engaged, but I think that scared her off in the end.  I liked her mostly because she was tall drove a mustang, had a hot sister, and a very nice family.  We used to do Sunday dinners at her grandmother’s.  Her father owned a huge flower farm.  So thing I remember most are that their home was so far out, the phone was on a party line.  Her father and mother were very nice to me, as were her grandparents.  I think they preferred me to the weatherman, but that ended up not being my decision.  I ended up moving to Philadelphia from York, had my own apartment, and worked downtown.  I couldn’t stay in the same town where I saw her many times a month.

I was working at a bank, PSFS, and living in an apartment in West Philadelphia.  I eventually had a roommate, Ken Carroll, who I worked with.  I think I took him in when his pa rants wanted him out, but I don’t really remember.  I like Ken; he has a great sense of humor and participated willingly in nightly fart fights.  Eventually he moved out, I don’t remember when or why – probably a girl.   A friend from high school, Mark Kattelman DO, was married to a nice girl from I don’t know where, but they fixed me up with this girl from Jenkintown for a data.  Millie became wife #2.  We were married 23 years, until I found my soul mate, which Millie wasn’t.  She couldn’t have kids (didn’t ever like sex anyway), so we adopted.  We ere lucky enough to get a 30 day old baby from Rhode Island.  We named him Ian Asher.  Since he is neither English nor Welsh, his first name is pronounced “I an” not “E an”.  We was a wild thing.  Was on his feet at 7 months and running at 8 months.  He hasn’t stopped since.  He had a lot of problems, multiplied by my leaving, but he pulled through, and is a great man working for Merrill.  No wife yet, but I’m hoping.

Ian “needed” to go to private school.  He was socially inept, and his ADD/HDD didn’t help.  I needed to make some more money, so I went up to a ‘Flea” market in the Poconos.  It was a very busy place, with a lot of customers.  There were some time shares near by and the turnover kept us all busy with new customers.  After many false starts, I started selling jewelry cleaner. I had no competition and the mark-up on the stuff was nice and high.  I had to learn to be a salesman.  This was hard for me, as t that time I was somewhat reticent.  But I learned and was making a very nice profit to pay for Isn’t schools.  A woman and her father set up next to me selling stained glass objects that they had made.  I was a bit uncomfortable as I was used to the space next to me was empty and I got used to it.  I noticed that the woman work very short skirts and had fantastic, long legs.  She was about 6’1″ in height which was rare in my circle,  Although their daughter was 13 years younger than me, the father and mother really liked me.  I spent hours talking to Mary, and ever though we had come from Very, very different backgrounds, we surprisingly though the same about many things.  Mary is the love of my life, I only wish I had found her 20 years ago.  Although should would have only been about 15 then, and a bit young for someone my age.

We’ve been married for over 15 years, and I think we’ve only had 3 big fights.  Take that shrinks!  We’ll be together until she puts me in a home as she won’t be able to take care of me when my dementia gets much worse.  A 250 lb. crazy is not easy to take care of.

More later – see ya.

At and about the start

Back when I was born, my father was in the Army Air Force.  I guess this makes me an Air Force Brat at birth.

We lived a lot of places.  I think we moved 8 times before I was in kindergarten.  There’s pictures of me with my great-grandparents, but I don’t remember any of them except Abe.  My Mother’s, father’s father, who had emigrated from Russia back in the 1800’s.  He lived until I was about 15 – probably way into triple digits.  He had escaped from the Czar’s army where they used Jews as cannon fodder.  He made his way across Eastern and Western Europe, and caught a freighter to NYC.  I never learned how he did it, but had little or no money.  My father said he as a real bastard until his last 10 years when he was getting ready to meet the Angel of Death.  He read Torah at my Bar-Mitzvah, and that is the only time I ever heard applause in a synagogue.

My grandfather’s parents on my father’s side came from Austria.  I’ve seen pictures of the castle they left behind.  The grabbed what jewels and possessions they could and ran before the pogroms to the US.  Or family, since then, had had a reputation as barkeeps and inn owners up to my grandfather’s generation.  My Father’s brother has an old bottle with a model of a bar in it which has been passed down over the years.  My firstborn will probably get it as my Uncle is his godfather and he doesn’t like me since I dumped my last wife.  More on wives later.

I have 3 kids.  One with my second wife, I adopted one of my 3rd wife’s kids, and I raised her other child from the age of 7.  The oldest is single, and he, apparently, is somewhat of a financial genius, working for one of the big firms.  My second is a Woman with 2 beautiful boys (the grandchildren!) And a husband.  They’re into Civil War re-enactment.  My youngest works for Halliburton, as an engineer.  Poor child is 25, no girlfriends, 6’6″, handsome and is bitching about only making $75K this year.  I told him the violin is so small he can’t see it.

Again, more later.

Hello world!

Having recently being diagnosed with Dementia, I find that the world around me is not really changing and becoming more difficult, but it’s me.

It’s hard to believe that a short time ago, I could remember 25 digit numbers, add 3 columns of numbers, and manage 10 projects at once.

Now, I can barely remember 8 digits, cannot add in my head, and have trouble handling 1 project at a time.

It’s a bummer, believe me.  My short and medium-term memory are very bad too.  My wife has to tell me things 4-5 times to get me to do them.  She’s trying to keep her patience, but as you will see, it gets harder and harder.

More later