Some Letter

Yes, I had a company with J- A- called A- & W-, Inc. We were technology consultants and we had perversely thorough contracts, the templates and other legalities propelled by W- V- and others at P-.com. Our first client was Reader's Digest in Chappaqua, NY (or really close, I can't remember the mailing city). I, as you know, did not finish high school, but none of my clients ever asked me for a diploma. They just assumed I knew what I was talking about because most of the time I did. S-.org was one client that I was the primary consultant for and my duty, as I felt, subscribing to the McKinsey & Co. ethos (see mckinsey.com) was to tell them to hire someone to handle all of the in-house stuff like printer jams, connection issues and the like. I was more about policy and planning. I represented their IT interests on the board as a liaison, not a boardmember.

My business partner, J-, and I were in David Rockefeller Jr's office in Rockefeller Plaza. There was a photo of him hanging out with a pensive looking Bill Clinton on a wooden porch. They had their own in-house IT team, as you can imagine, but I was the primary consultant for s-.org. (if you google my name, look at the third hit). They were hosting S- because S- is Peggy's child (I think, I can't speak for her). J- became really brash and rude on the telephone in an office HOSTING as a guest one of our clients. I hung the phone up for him, called the other man back and explained that I would speak to him to resolve whatever challenges we shared and that I was most surely at his service to accomplish this. I was, believe it or not, the people man. At least that's what my clients said. It was then that I understood that Emily was doing what was best for her and that was not me. My roommate decided she was moving in with her boyfriend and J- was breaking my heart with the antics. I decided to sell my half for some nominal amount to J-, endorse all the clients to him, and then go backpacking. So I did.

When I was in Prague, the HR lady at S-.org wrote to me saying they were going with my plan and hiring someone. They trusted me and asked if I would do it. I was running out of money so I was very grateful. I asked why they weren't staying with A- & W-, Inc. (I'm the second father, she was my baby, I wanted her to thrive). They said that A- "didn't ingratiate himself with the staff". I said OK. I relayed this to J- to make sure I wasn't crossing any lines (see, I do follow rules when they matter). La la la.

Life became amazing. I had money, benefits I doubt I will ever find again, and 4 weeks paid vacation to start. I had an office with a window and I ordered Kandinsky prints. Soon enough, though, I threw all this away. You know I'm a wildcard but not everyone does. When I'm good I'm the best. When I'm not, I'm pretty fucking bad. So, because we had a USAID grant and I had selfishly violated one of the terms of the grant, I was given unemployment. That was 405 dollars a week. When 9.11 happened, GWB extended it for a year. Then a friend in NYC invited me to a birthday party in Biarritz. I told him I would go. Z- told him I wouldn't be able to make it. I can't tolerate when people who love me speak for me. That made me all the more sure I was going. It was insane. I was nearly homeless in San Francisco and somehow richocheted from NYC to CGD to the train to Biarritz. On the train, I met Sophie Russo. She became my lover. She was the daughter of a doctor and his mistress in Paris, and had her own separate house on their estate in the good banlieu. St. Cloud or somewhere near, as I recall, was where they lived.

I worked it out so an old friend would deposit my unemployment checks, which were getting mailed to a Brooklyn address, and looked for a job in Paris. I didn't speak a word more than Bonjour when I landed. I suppose I also knew "maman" because it's in the first line of The Stranger, and other words that English has appropriated. Still, it was rough. I was taking morphine sulphate and drinking a lot. I met G- at a party at kilometerzero.org. She and I knew each other from as soon as we met. It was pretty beautiful. My friend Samuel was staying with me from Stockholm, and I made him take a walk. There you have it.

I came back to the US to try to round up some more money, and then left again for Paris with no intention of returning. The movie Bowling for Columbine and a comment that my friend Ch- made sort of led me to understand that I was nauseated by a lot of Americana. G- & I paid the security and all that but couldn't move in until the beginning of the month. We went to the UK to wait at her parents' house in Lincolnshire. When we were there, her father sort of talked to her and it did become clear that France was a big challenge and even though I'd be illegal if I stayed on my course (which I did), I would be better off finding work in a country that spoke English. So we moved to London, then Nottingham. I worked in kitchens and also did independent consulting where I would send and invoice and the client would send me a check. No UK Customs & Excise was necessary. I did, though, go to them and explain my predicament, the element of true love, and they gave me an official looking paper that explained to prospective employers that it wasn't on them to provide a National Insurance number (the UK equiv of an SS number), and used TN01061978M for a temporary number. It was all pretty beautiful.

Later, though, G- looked at me one night and said, "why don't we go to the U.S. and get married, live there for a while, and you can make a living easier?" I asked, "can we get married in Vegas?" She replied, "that's what I wanted to do!" So you see, there's a screw for every nut!

We did so, I got hired on the phone on a Thursday and the job wanted me to start that Monday. I took everything I could on the plane, told G- it was underway and to bring everything she could in two weeks. She did. I worked at Pep Boys HQ during their rollout of a new Point-Of-Sale system sort of covering what was not covered. Ever since I saw Pulp Fiction and heard the lines,

Jules: "You're sendin' The Wolf?"
Marsellus: "Feel better, Motherfucker?"
Jules: "Sheeeit, Negro! That's all you had to say!"

I've wanted to be "The Wolf". When I'm good, I'm almost that reassuring. Usually, I'm more of a liability. As the Wolf, I did the Pep Boys' project and got hired at H--I.com as the Network Manager. G- was living with me in South Philly. We were doing what we wanted to do, living the dream and all of that. There are three reasons why she went back to England:

1. She had a plane ticket to go visit
2. She was very lonely and I worked all the time
3. A more personal one that I'm not comfortable disclosing really

So, she went to England. I went to South Florida. She told me she wasn't coming back. I stayed in Miami. I lived there at 820 Ocean Drive for a year. Then I came back to Philadelphia and stayed in a 5 bedroom my friend owned that was empty to keep it "lived in" sort of and clean and secure. I was working as a waiter in Miami. In Philadelphia I caught up with an old friend, R-, and G- had been in England for a year and we agreed that it wasn't really working the way it was. She had a boyfriend that looks so much like me others have told me, "I guess G- has a 'type'!" and so I approved. He must be devilishly handsome, I thought.

R- had just passed the bar exam, became an attorney to practice in PA & NJ, and we lived together for the past two years until about 2 weeks ago today.

So there you have it. Warts and all, it's been the quick snapshot of what I've been up to. I've been other places and had other drama, but mostly I've found that so long as my heart is pure and my mind is clear life works out for me. When my head isn't clear and I'm up to no good it doesn't. As such, I'd say that so long as your motives are good and you use counsel, strategy and perserverance coupled with faith, your own situation is bound to work out. No matter what, "there's always a hole somewhere" (a sort of IT phrase regarding security). I do feel for you and do not believe it is in your own, your man's, or your childrens' interests to be paying to have the US interfere with something much older and more natural than federal governance, but I'm deviating from the sentence I want to give you:

It'll work out; be sure of that.