Note: Having some computer problems , so please excuse the mismatched format.
New Phase 5: Time Onward
Westlake Village, California
March 28, 2010
7:50 PM
“Hello.” —
“Oh, hi, Marcie.”
“Hi, Milt. You want to talk to Mitch?”
“Thanks, but nor necessary. Just tell him I said you two better start dinner without us.”
“Pretty neat lady, isn’t she, Milt.”
Chuckling. “’Neat’ doesn’t cover half of it.”
Coming from the bathroom. “Who’s that?”
“Milt. Says we should start dinner
without him and Sherry. Want to talk
to him?”
“No. Tell him I’ll talk to him later… Or
tomorrow.”
Hearing. “Tomorrow.” Milt said,
adding, “Thank you!”
Taking the phone from Marsha. “Like her, do you?”
“Yeah, I do, a lot.”
“Thought you would. Give us a call tomorrow, or whenever you get home.”
Laying closely alongside Milt, able to
hear the conversation. Taking the
phone. “You were right, Mitchell. Your
neighbour really is a ‘god guy’.”
Asking the same question. “Like him, do you?”
“Yes, I do.”
Speaking over Sharon. “Talk to you
both tomorrow.” Milt said.
The phone went quiet.
“We did good, didn’t we.”
Kissing his wife’s cheek, “Yeah, we did! But sometimes it takes more than tits and a pretty face to ‘really’ turn us old guys on.”
“Really!” Standing Marsha pulled her
blouse up and her bra down. “How’s
that working for this old man?”
“Might as well save the steaks for
tomorrow.”
“Yeah. Feel like a pizza anyway.”
Westlake Village, California
March 29, 2010
3:50 PM
“Hey, Mitch!”
“You’re home?”
Next door, at 2823 Waterview Lane. “
‘We’re’ home.”
“Sherry with you?”
“Yes.”
Standing alongside — as old people
tend to speak loudly, easily able to hear
the conversation.
“We’re glad.” Marsha said.
In much the same position on the
other side of the joining wall. “So are
we.” Sharon said.
“You still got those steaks?”
“Yeah, Milt. Figured the four of us — if
all worked out right, would like to take
that evening cruise with dinner
tonight.”
The four way conversation still going.
“I’d love it!”
“Me, too, Sherry!” Marsha said.
“WTO?”
“Nautical talk for ‘what timed
departure’,” Mitchell explained to
Marsha.
“Sun’ll be setting about seven.”
“It’s not even four now. What the hell you two going to be doing till Seven?”
“Schmuck!”
“Ass-hole! See you at seven.”
Speaking into the phone. “Have a good
time.” Marsha said.
7:28 PM
Cruising north-easterly, the sun setting to the west.
Milt at the helm with Sharon’s arms
held loosely about his neck. “So
beautiful…” Sharon said softly “...don’t
think I ever want to go back home.”
“So don’t.” Milt said.
March 30, 2010
Marsha’s furniture and personal items
arriving, now began the process getting
rid of the old, old furniture and
replacing it with the new, old furniture
and ‘especially’ the thirty-four year old
‘Kenmore refrigerator’ — that was still
‘ticking’, with Marsha’s much newer
twenty-four year old Kenmore
refrigerator, and, of vourse, the
Melmack dishes.
Closet space even divided, with most of
Mitchell’s clothing now hanging in the
guest room closet, along with two of' the five guest room bureau drawers
containing other season clothing.
Still in that passionate period of re-
discovery, a morning, and very often
that evening did not go by without
Marsha and Mitchell ‘eating pussy’
’and ‘sucking cock’, and plain old
fashion fucking did not go by.
However both knew this time in their lives would eventually cool down to every day living.
And, in a way, Marsha being seventy-
four and Mitchell seventy-six, both
looked forward to a happy… as happy
as they could normally possibly
manage to an ‘every day loving
existence.
Thousand Oaks, California
Thousand Oaks City Hall
April 20, 2010
11: 10 AM
Thinking it ridiculous that two people
as old as their father and Sharon woul
d want to marry, after much back and
forth wrangling with his two children,
and an iron clad pre-nuputral
agreement signed and notarised by
both Milton Abrams and Sharon
Murphy, the two became husband and
wife.
April 21, 2010
7:30 AM
Marsha’s apartment on the far north
side of Chicago had sold with the ‘net’
hundred-twenty thousand dollar funds
assigned and added to Marsha and
Mitchell’s joint checking and savings
accounts with Westlake Federal
Savings and Loan.
May 12, 2010
Sharon Murphy’s property in Encino
selling for — Mitchell was sure, land
value only; the huge lot actually
auctioned, selling for an unbelievable
quarter million dollars.
The Milt Abrams pre-nuputral
agreement stated that ‘in the event
Milton Abrams passing away before
now ‘Mrs Abrams’, she may remain on
the property for no more than sixty
days, then must vacate, of be ‘vacated’.
By Milt’s suggestion— The proceeds of
Sharon’s quarter million dollar sale
invested in an interest bearing account
in another bank under her maiden
name of ‘Sharon Lucile Newcomb’, so
in no way could Milt’s children—whom
actually treated Sharon rather
badly,lay claim to her individual funds,
which under those circumstances
would go into her care and living
expenses until her death.
Having no children, in the event of her
death, whatever funds remaining were
to go to the ‘Alzheimer Foundation’.
Authors Notation: Strange thing, with
all us newly and recently remarried
newly weds doing what newly weds do
, not one lady seemed to worry about
getting pregnant. Guess that’s one of
the perks of being really ‘old fuckers.’
May 15, 2010
955 AM
Marcie and I met our new neighbours
as they were moving into the unit
directly alongside to the east.
2819 Watergate Court had remained
vacant after our old… and I mean ‘old’ ‘stripper’ neighbours, Mona and Missy
had moved elsewhere on 1/6/201
If I didn’t say before, there are four
attached units on our… guess you
could call it a quadlaplex structure.
The old couple — I say old because they
look to be older than me — the old
couple on the far end strictly seem to be
‘coincidental meeting and
minimal obligatory’ conversation types,
as in the twenty-four years I’ve lived at
2821, whenever we coincidentally run
into each other the conversation is
always:
“How are you?”
“Really good. You?”
“Good also.”
“Kind of chilly this morning.”
“It is.”
“ Have a good one!”
“You, too!”
You get the idea.
May 15, 2010
9:15 AM
Marcie and I met our new neighbours as they were
moving into the unit directly alongside — the east side of our unit.
Parking the Lincoln on the driveway. “Hi!”
Stepping over the three foot mandarin separating our two properties.
“I’m Mitch…” holding my hand forward “...and this is my wife, Marsha.”
First impressions: Both appeared to be in
their mid-fifties.
The man in blue jeans from out of two
generations earlier: Faded. Patched with a
large Vietnam era peace sign on one knee.
The man had a dark blonde pony tail to
beneath his shoulders along with gold, hoop
earrings strung from both earlobes.
“Hi! Good to meet you. I’m ‘Si’ and this…”
gesturing to the approaching woman “… is
my wife, ‘Sy’.
Thinking, Mona and Missy.
You said your wives name is Si, and your name is ‘Si’ also?”
“No…” holding her hand forward “...my
name is ‘Sy…” apparently a well practised
comicale bit. She laughs.
The woman at one time might have been
pretty, but now, well into her fifties, appears
to be…? Faded. Beyond plump, on her way
to ‘fat’, wears denim coveralls seemingly the
same generation of her husbands, has a
large Veitnam peace symbol sown onto the
coveralls bib. Her hair much too black to be
natural has to be dyed.
In addition, Both her and her husband
wear ‘sixties era Ti-died T-shirts.
Never one to be coy. “Si and Si?” Marsha questioned.
Laughing, “thought you’d never ask…”
My name is Silvia…” the woman said and
his..” jerking her thumb towards her
husband “...is Seymour…”
And as we both hated our names, changed
mine to ‘Si,” he said, and…”
“Me! I changed my name to ‘Sy’.” Sy said.
“Nice meeting you two, but…” lying “… I’ve
something on the stove, so better check on it.”
“Yeah, me, too…” Lying “I’m expecting an
important call…” turning away “..see you
later.
Inside. “
Oh, my God…” laughing “...Si and Sy ?”
“As the saying goes, You can’t choose your relatives…”
“Or apparently…” Marsha said “...your
neighbours.”
So I ask, where does Si and Sy come in?
For some of us older people… For some of
us that had lived through the “sixties”, we,
us older people know what a ‘contact high’
means.
A “contact high” is when one is with
someone, or a number of someones that are
smoking pot; be it merely standing nearby
, or in car, or in a room; particularly if it’s in
a room with a bed where one may be
standing… or lying even closer nearby, or at
a party, or at a bar: becoming a bit giddy,
becoming a bit giddier than giddy, having
uncontrollable laughter and, above all else,
becoming hungry, then even hungrier. Even
though this hypothetical “one” had taken not
so much as one hit off of that “joint”, just by
breathing the marijuana tainted air one feels
and has the same symptoms as though it
were he/she taking the last drag on that, by
now, finger burning, skanky, saliva
drenched “roach”.
But that is not what happened because there
was neither ‘joint’ to smoke nor any
marijuana tainted smoke to be inhaled…
either time.
A bit of an explanation here:
From as far back as I can remember I have
had a right knee problem. My first
remembrance was when, I think at about
age twelve, kneeling alongside my bicycle, as
I stood my knee locked with excruciating
pain, but as I stood the knee popped back
into place and the moment of pain had
passed. Throughout the years of my life,
every now and then my knee would lock and
I would quickly straighten it and the
moment of excruciating pain would
immediately pass.
However, as I grew older the knee would
lock more and more often until, now at age
seventy-seven, it began to happen so often
that I’d asked – I’m a ‘Kaiser Permanente’
patient – for an X-ray that showed nothing,
but then I did ask for and received an MRI
that was performed in December of 2010
which did show a meniscus problem
requiring orthoscopic surgery that was then
– in mid-December— scheduled for surgery
on February 14 (Valentine’s Day) 2011.
Next Phase 6: Si & Sy
