Now, let me be the first to say that Kelsey’s been a delight this weekend. For whatever reason, she decided not to just sequester herself in the other room during this visit. The door to her room has remained irregularly open. She’s hung out in the living room watching TV, even sitting with us yesterday afternoon when we watched “Rain” (which I really should have liked a lot more). She even asked to come run around with Mary and me yesterday as we ran a half-dozen errands. She’s actually participated. Wow!
You know, a few years ago, I suffered an intolerably antisocial roommate– a fate I wish on no man (not that I’m a gem). He’d been my best friend for years, but living with him became the fatal catalyst in our relationship. He simply didn’t care that his self-absorption stimulated ill will and conflict. I still love him dearly, but this was another difficult lesson that was punctuated by a profound sense of personal loss. I’ve resolved to never allow myself to feel like an outsider in my own home.
And the whole “kids” issue is another tough issue for me. Beyond the sharp opinions I’ve developed regarding relationships involving children while I was growing up are the grotesque failures earned in a previous relationship with a single mother. The compromises I made in this relationship were equal only to the suffering I endured. Oddly enough, I honestly mean nothing personal when I report that I’ve never been more disgusted, more selfish or self-destructive as I was during this relationship. And I still think of that child to this day.
With only that much said, I hope you can see, as a self-proclaimed bachelor with a distinct yellow streak, that it’s difficult for me to consider that I have, in fact, found great and unexpected peace in my role as a domesticated MILF-hunter. While I have no intention of “shoplifting the pootie,” I do hold my relationship with Kelsey’s mom as a secondary priority in relation to my less-tangible pursuits

Today was supposed to be the day that Mary caught up with her daughter, Jamie, to have a little birthday dinner (or something). Jamie, true to a long-standing nineteen-year-old norm, cancelled the meeting, leaving her sister to be picked up by her father and arranging for the delivery of the presents Mary bought. Mary was in tears.
Some of these moments are terribly hard. I find myself considering this situation rather thoroughly, and earnestly wishing better for all of us.

As the result of the buyout of Airborne Express, Kerry and Chris will be moving to Arizona in a few months. Long pauses seemed to emphasize her thoughtfulness on the subject, which I found a bit odd. The company will be moving them, so her move will include the most radical of life changes. Honestly, I can’t even begin to speculate as to why she was so clear in her decision, yet hesitant in her responses. I simply hope that they have a safe and fortuitous adventure in Arizona.
Of course, I was able to catch up on other gossip as well,
Responding to my inquiry, one of the bartenders disclosed that Carl has long since returned from his trek across the United States. At some point during his return trip to Ballard, he chose to upgrade his “Walk Across America” idea to a “Bike Across America” plan. From what I gather, he was undergoing considerable physical discomfort and social isolation. There was no mention of the Boys & Girls Club’s involvement.
In other news, I learned that my old friend, Blaine, is a father! More specifically, the mother of his ten-year-old son recently returned to Washington and reinitiated contact with Blaine’s family, introducing his son into his life.
All trepidation aside, I am sincerely happy for Blaine, his son and his family. This is amazing news, considering how strongly he’s always felt about being a part of his son’s life, and how distraught he was over losing all custody rights to the boy (who was supposed to bear his family’s namesake). It’s natural for me to associate this divine coincidence.
I then learned that Blaine is also currently expecting a second child from an unexpected pregnancy in an entirely different relationship. And all of this apparently came about since the beginning of this year’s summer.
Hmm. No comment.

Mary and I hit the Goodwill again this morning. With a little help from yours truly, she made out with a fantastic gym/workout bag. Of course, this is nothing in comparison to the four graphic design books she found for my collection. The coolest score was picking up an unopened copy of eMedia’s “Guitar Method 1″ for a paltry $4.99. (I’ve seen this for years, but have never bought it. I just couldn’t resist.)
I think the coolest highlight of my day is the one that came from sorting out the rather formidable stack of miscellaneous papers which I’d collected on my desk and floor. Among these papers were a number of Things To Do lists. Ryan Casey’s name made another appearance.
Ryan Casey used to be a cook over at the Old Pequliar. He’s a young man of thoughtful wit and kind heart, with whom I identify a certain sense of metaphysical kinship. We’d spoken on numerous occasions about writing, and Mary and I even approached him with the Virtual Ballard Project, but nothing came of it.
Earlier this year, while comparing various experiences and aspirations, I expressed interest in reading something he’d written. (His mother was a librarian. Do I really need to say more?) I continued to ask for several weeks, but had really eased off the throttle when he quietly produced a photocopy of “Last Bus From Boise.”
After reading his manuscript, I felt motivated to lend what help I could. Ryan had no computer, and cautioned me that the copy he’d given me was from the only copy he had, so the quality of the printing might make it hard to read. I OCR’dthe document into a Word file, cleaned up all of the errors, printed Ryan a copy and then saved the Word and text files for him to a floppy.
It’s only taken about six months, but the little piece of paper I found today prompted me to make another attempt to get these to him. It was really out of the blue. He sounded about as surprised as I was when he answered his cell, and saidg that he’d just returned from traveling abroad the day before last. (He’s been in Europe, Russia, Germany,.) He gave me his mailing address, and I walked the envelope to the post office immediately after our conversation, letting me complete yet another detail.

Larry Lewis is an old friend from my days of D&D and conventions. He’s one of the few people I’ve consistantly considered to be a friend throughout the majority of my incarnations. I’d sent a quick email to his last known email addresses last week, hoping to just touch bases with him. I’d received a few error messages from a server during the process, and had thought I’d not hear from him again, unless by coincidence. (As a last resort I’d tried his old phone number, but was disconnected.)
His email went on to say that Alexander Condan Beltran Lewis was born May 8th, 2003–6 1/2 weeks early. No worries though, he also said Alex is now up to the full weight for babies his age.
Hearing about this has really left me in a bit of a spin for the day. It’s funny how you can look up and see so much changing. I am absolutely delighted for my friend and his family. It’s wonderful to share this kind of joy.
I’ve sent another email to Larry, and I’m hoping he’ll have the chance to correspond with me, as time allows. Larry is a fantastic cartoonist and artist, and all-around loving human being, and I’d love to stay in touch with him.