Rewiring the System


Earlier


I was abandoned by my father before my third birthday. There he stood in his army greens looking like a tower of anger. He moved to the top of the stares where my bedroom was and threw with violent directed strength (that somehow has remained intwined in my collected images, that I can still smell and feel still to this day). He lifted the 6 foot long roll of vinyl floor covering, that he was going to use to give me a clean new floor and threw it down the stairs and out the front door.

Out the door that man went, he who provided the sperm that fought its way across the diaphragm my Mother used to prevent conception.  Needless to say I never got a new floor. I ended up having rough wooden boards that I ended up painting gray. Gray Gray Gray I grew up Gray from the core to the door.

I was summarily rejected by my mother just after my fourth birthday. Holding up to the streaming light My Mother showed me the actual protection she used to prevent pregnancy. Then she dressed me up and took me to the court house and had me given over as a ward of the court.

Louis never wanted children and that was a contractual promise with my mother, Mary. The stalwart binding of my parents marriage was that they each would have their jobs and no annoying children underfoot. Sure they were in love and as the original Yuppies, the Young Upwardly Mobile Pretty People they both wanted to make money, save it, and have fun vacations all over the hemisphere..  

I was one of many unwanted children who would support the compassionate choices that are signature style of the Kennedy Generation.  I had a very hard childhood. My Father was 40 year career Army Intelligence. He just loved America. He was a young 20 something when the Russian Revolution marched across the icy steppes. The Brown Shirts and the Red Shirts and The Muzgiques all had an axe to grind. One day The Bolsheviks, “majority”, were a fraction of the Marxists, which split from then over run over the more populist the Mensheviks wrecked the Jewish Merchant Society

It was one day after another which was not as good as yesterday and not as bad as tomorrow as well as the surfs of various levels.

The regular family nesting human education  was not passed on to me. I got the position over in a corner from where I watched the people moving as though on a platform. Most of the times I had no idea about the rhyme or reason for most of what was going on. I had to watch people I liked to learn how to live in the world. I had to find a pattern of movements and words which I could choose to play out in what was for me a very scary, other worldly, constructed form  so very different than the soft lights in the world in my heart.

 

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