October 22, 2019

Sudden stupendous rain as the sun roses.

Lee tells me to put Short & Sweet Hollywood on my resume and not worry about it, that such things are usually put together as showcases for actors. Makes sense. Nothing much in the theater is about the playwright once the curtain goes up.

Donny Boggs died a while ago. For reasons unknown to me, he used to attack me at the swimming pool, Aqua Springs, I think it was called. He waited until I swam in deep water, then came out and jumped on me and tried to hold me under. I never exactly understood his antipathy. A few years later he got a job at the Goodyear mailroom, and I was assigned to teach him the job and the routes. I could see on his face that he remembered everything, but I pretended I didn’t, and by the end I had a good friend who hugged me on my last day. Don Kerr died a year and more ago, and we’re just finding out. For a while he was my best friend and boon companion, a simple and loving boy who let me boss him around in ways that make me uncomfortable now. We would wrestle on the back stoops of the portables. I chipped his tooth in the bathroom once, but didn’t get in trouble because his father remembered pelting my mother with apples and making her fall off her bike, karma closed in a succeeding generation. I wrote to him to try to renew acquaintance, but didn’t hear back.