I was 5 years old in this picture on Christmas morning in 1984.  I got the red robe on Christmas Eve and the Bullwinkle was from Santa.  I remember this Christmas - we were living in El Droado, AR at the time and this is in the living room of our home.  Christmas was the most exciting time ever back then.  Gifts and anticipation to see what Santa had brought and then driving over to Camden later on Christmas Day to see family by the dozens.

I miss this.  Not just he simple mindset of a childhood but the togetherness we all had as a family.  Being surprised by who got to "come home" and the countless laughs and stories I could hear even though I didn't quite understand most of them.  

This is a hard Christmas for everyone, I more than understand that.  It's been a year of MANY changes for me and I knew going into this holiday season in the midst of a pandemic would be a trying time and it is.  Being away working on a remote project did bring me a great deal of joy and accomplishment but at the end of the day to not have someone to share it with or phone and tell about my day and excitement did take away from the beauty of the day.

There is someone who now lives in northwest Arkansas with a cute little white dog that I miss very much. So much.  At 41 I'm starting over and 90% of it is exciting but there's the times that I'm by myself and alone that my mind starts to wonder.  I feel that when I'm able to start to afford things I want again like a new sofa at a whim or a 4 day get away and not stress over the cost, I'll be in a better place.  Counting pennies has always been an obsession and delight for me.  I love rat holing money and saving - it's always been a game to me.  See how much I can save and then splurge by spending exactly 1/2 of it and starting the cycle over with the remainder.  

Someone once told me that I love money.  I don't think that's true but I do love the independence it gives a person.  I'm learning, or rather, realizing again that it's good to be self reliant.  It's not easy though.  Along with missing certain people I miss the larger gatherings of family and the unexpected surprises of who will be there.  I'm not sad during the holidays but I do miss some of the rituals of my childhood.  I look forward to this pandemic being over.  I look forward to a busy 2021.

For the first time in I can’t remember when, I looked up at the night sky. It’s bright and full of stars. So serene. I see the star of Bethlehem and I don’t know how to describe it. No one alive has seen it before tonight. It makes me feel that even though we may be by ourselves, we are not alone.

This story of from the Gospel of Matthew always fascinated me as a child. One star in a night full of heavenly bodies guided three men on camels to the birthplace of the baby Jesus. How could it be so bright? Did only the wisest of men know what to look for? After seeing this tonight for myself I can understand how they were able to see this, the brightest and most unusual star in the sky. I looked right up at it tonight and knew exactly what I was looking at.

I think we all look for a guiding point in or lives. I have for a long time now and even more so this past year of turmoil in my life and the unrest in our country and world. I felt peace come over me as I looked up and was reminded that there is something more out there - beyond our normal sight and, if you will, comfort zone.

I saw a guiding light while working on location and that makes me think that what I'm doing here, now, and in my life is a path that I was meant to follow. So many sad things have happened lately and not just to me but all over the world. We finally have a vaccine for Covid and we have a new government administration taking power. I hope 2021 is a better year, for all of us. So, shine on bright star - guide us to a new beginning. I know I'm ready.

Traveling for work isn't always just about being on set.  In my downtime I have to explore the city I'm in.  OKC has been cold but productive.  I ventured out to the local thrift haunts and have found some good loot!  I traveled up to Ponca City for an estate sale that was a complete bust - the family was conducting the sale and everything there was high as a cat's back but the local vendor malls pulled through.  Colored glass always sells well for me in Dallas and I can't wait to put these fun pieces in my booth. 

The local flavor of people and their personalities in a 100 mile range of OKC is spectacular.  Character ideas come from anywhere and everywhere and I've had a great opportunity to study some interesting people.  The Native American TS that runs the antique mall on the square in Ponca City was a real treat.  Over stuffed lips and hands bigger than mine and a diamond ring that could be mistaken for a door knob and she drives a Lincoln Town car.  I talked with her for about 30 minutes and when I left she said the most wonderful thing - "Stay beautiful" and I replied "you do the same".  The light that filled her eyes and the difference in her stance really made my day.  You know that I love to talk but I enjoy listening more and being away from home has given me a whole new canvas to explore.  

My favorite part of working remotely is new people, places, and faces.  I'm so happy.

 

It's enough to drive you crazy if you let it!

Obsessed. 

One of the first VHS tapes I remember my family having was 9 to 5.  In 1985 we got a VCR for Christmas from my grandmother and after getting the treat of renting a movie on the weekend, somehow my mother found copies of Grease and 9 to 5.  I was only 6 years old but I remember after watching this movie maybe 3 or 4 times I had it memorized.  I was hypnotized by the characters and was of course too young to tell you why.  I remember my mother getting tickled at the scenes with Roz and having belly laughs at her being so nosey and also when Mr. Hart was finally released and came back to the office only to be whisked away again to an even worse fate than the three main characters had made for him.  

As I got older I understood more about the dynamics of the film and then after I'd had my first corporate job (maybe 26 years old) I watched this movie again with my mother and we had a talk afterwards what it meant to her.  Mom had worked in the healthcare field at two local hospitals for most of her young career life.  She told me that she had a boss much like Mr. Hart when she worked in the insurance and billing department at the Ouachita County Hospital in the late 60's after her first husband died.  Mom was a very smart and intuitive person; a person that would experiment while doing repetitive tasks different ways - same end result but a different road traveled to get there keeps the monotony out of your day.  Things like alternating stapling papers from the left to right hand, move the phone from one side of the desk to the other, add a column of numbers from bottom to top, type up an insurance claim from the last page to the first and vice versa.  In the end I think it also gave her a better understanding of all processes because she really could do them backwards and forwards.  

There was one dynamic in these early years that wasn't so pleasant.  Her boss didn't think woman should be more than just a secretary and they were definitely his toys to play with.  Such was common back then. Mom got the task of creating punch cards and feeding the computer when it was installed for insurance coding and billing.  Same pay but different tasks - she actually loved it.  Her mind was a computer.  After the first day of working in the back corner of what was a large storage room and the machines were in the back - far away from the entrance and the work piled up in front of her and the door - she noticed she was obscure from the rest of the office.  On the second day her boss came in to monitor her progress and to also "help" demonstrate how to feed the machine but his intent was to show mother where a penis was supposed to go.  Mom intuitively fed the machine more than it could process and it jammed thus creating a loud churning sound nobody could ignore.  Boss left - crisis averted.  The day wore on and mom pretended the repair guy was coming later in the afternoon but she never called him because she knew how to fix the issue.  Mom had a friend that worked in maintenance, Randi, a big stout woman who would have moved a Lincoln Continental if Mom asked her to.  After everyone had left for the day, mother and Randi went in the storage room and rearranged the layout.  Randi disconnected the electrical outlet where the machines were previously and moved them to the front with the entrance and files to the back in order of first in to the front and last in to the back.  No more dank corners to hide in.

The next day when mother continued her work with everything whirring like a Singer, her boss came in and questioned the rearrangement and was not all too happy.  Mother explained that when the repair guy came the outlet was faulty and now didn't work so they had to move the equipment to a live outlet - it was the only cost effective way to maintain work flow.  Boss man grabs an adding machine from a desk just outside the door and plugs it in the outlet in question and nothing happened in either plug as mom continues to feed the machine punchcards.  Boss leaves.  Problem solved.

I would sit and watch my mom when she didn't think I was looking and she looked like she was having a conversation in her head, lips slightly moving with expressive eyes.  I now know that she really was having a conversation or at least working something backwards and forwards.  

I miss her.  We were too much alike to be able to get along in a perfect relationship but we both understood one another and sometimes that's the most you can ask for and I think the least you should expect.  

The coveted of all emails from one's agent is a booking confirmation.  Auditioning is a revolving door and getting the part is fruits of our labor that less frequently gets picked.  All of the training in the world can't give you the experience of being on set.  As actors, we take classes and workshops to learn what to do in the audition room that can show casting what we're capable of.  Getting to do what we're capable of only comes from being in front of the camera and taking that "in the room" opportunity to the "on the set" experience. 

I've said "I don't yearn to be famous, I just want to work" so many times it seems like it's my unofficial mantra.  

I'm excited and nervous but most abundantly looking forward to eleven days of set experience while getting paid for it.   

Cars have been my obsession since I was old enough to say "go".  As I get older I realize I'm actually obsessed with the cars members of my family owned.  I imagine their everyday lives driving to casual get togethers and important events.  Above is my grandmother around 1966 in her 1962 Buick Electra 225.  One important errand this car made was in 1968 and I wrote a short script about it in a class with Del Shores years ago.  Eventually I reworked it to be the opening scene of a feature and I want to share it with you now.  Brought to you by my obsession of this Duce and a quarter.

FADE IN:

EXT. DRIVEWAY OF THE INGRAM HOME - 1968 - MORNING

Vintage BUICK in the driveway. RALEIGH, 50 with a high and tight haircut and white coming in at the temples in pristine clean coveralls, wiping down the lower fender well of the drivers side having just finished washing the car.

VIRGINIA, perfectionist, in a custom fitted suit with perfect nails and dark brown hair, in the kitchen on the phone with her sister, Louise, basically gossiping but the reason for the call is to get a recipe.  Recipe book and several loose recipes on the breakfast table.  Virginia holds a pen and doodles on a separate pad that always sits by the phone.  

INT. LOUISE KITCHEN  WITH INTERCUTS

LOUISE, slow and methodical, wearing cat eye glasses and a raven short up-do and her dressing jacket, is on a long cord wall phone as she stirs a pot of soup..

LOUISE

Where did you get peaches?

VIRGINIA:

Doc brought some yesterday so I had to do something with ‘em.

Louise tastes the soup.

LOUISE

Well, that was nice of him.

Dammit - I got this soup too salty...

Virginia nods to what Louise is saying.

VIRGINIA

Slice up a big potato and add that.  It’ll take the extra salt out.

LOUISE

I’ve never seen you do that before

VIRGINIA

I’ve never had to.

Louise makes a face in the phone then says:

LOUISE

Wee-eell..

VIRGINIA:

Haha.  Listen, can you give me Mrs. Kennedy’s egg custard recipe?

Raleigh enters, looks for his cigarettes and finds them.

Virginia pushes the ashtray towards him.

LOUISE

Yeah, let me chop up this salt sponge.  

VIRGINIA

Hahaha.  Thanks, call me back.

Virginia hangs up the phone.

RALEIGH

Pie smells good.

VIRGINIA

The tar come off?  

Raleigh nods while reading the front page of the paper.

Virginia straightens her recipes and clears the table

VIRGINIA (CONT'D)

Jo is making ice cream at Mama’s this afternoon... 

I’m sure half the neighborhood is going to end up there.

Virginia continues to clean up the table then wipes it down and then the chair.

RALEIGH

...Is it ok if I sit down--?

VIRGINIA

Just let me get this...

Raleigh (tenderly) takes her hand and kisses her. Then sits down.

VIRGINIA (CONT’D)

Taking the horses out after lunch?

RALEIGH

Not if there’s ice cream.   I’ll take the kids for a ride in the back of the pick-up after they eat.

VIRGINIA

(jokingly)

Don’t take them through the mill car wash again ... It’s too cold.

Virginia walks over and methodically picks up a box with her wedding rings and watch in it.

RALEIGH

I’ll put the dog in the cab this time.

Virginia puts on her jewelry as she talks.

VIRGINIA

God KNOWS!  Any normal person would have been mad as hell.  A wet dog and all those wet kids and... 

RALEIGH

  They just yelled for me to do it again.  That’s YOUR family.

Virginia still giggling gets her purse and reaches in and gets the keys to the car and gives Raleigh a look of “smart ass” and heads for the door.  She then remembers ...

VIRGINIA

Cobbler.

She puts the purse and keys on the table and while walking to the oven she grabs the hot pads and then the phone rings and she breaks mid stride and turns to take the phone call. 

Raleigh is right behind her with interest, Peach cobbler is his FAVORITE.  She almost trips over him and pushes him out of the way and he exits towards the hall as she picks up the phone sure this will be Louise calling her back.

VIRGINIA:

Go take your bath - HELLO - 

Put your clothes in the washer and I’ll run it when I get home.

DOCTOR ED CLINE, 60’s with glasses and a stern face, head surgeon Baptist Memorial in Little Rock AR is on the line.

DR. CLINE

Mrs. Ingram? This is Dr. Cline at Baptist in Little Rock.

VIRGINIA (CONT'D)

I’m sorry, did ... 

DR. CLINE

Mrs. Ingram...

VIRGINIA

-I’m Sorry?  

Yes, speaking.

DR. CLINE

Mrs. Ingram, this is Dr. Cline at Baptist in Little Rock.  There has been an accident and your daughter, Gloria, is here in ICU.  We have just taken her husband Tommy into surgery.

CUT TO:

INT. INGRAM HOME - RALEIGH - HALL BATHROOM 

Raleigh is in the bathroom just far enough away from Virginia’s phone conversation that we can’t hear what’s being said while he delicately replaces the blade on his razor with the water running.

VIRGINIA (O.C.)

RALEIGH!

RALEIGH

(beat) What?

VIRGINIA (O.C.)

RALEIGH! 

RALEIGH drops what he’s doing and comes back into the kitchen 

INT. KITCHEN AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER

Virginia is still holding  the phone - at the verge of being frantic but still in shock.

VIRGINIA

Put your shirt back on, we’ve got to go to Little Rock. Doll and Tommy have been in a wreck.   

Virginia disengages the line and tries to dial a number but she mis-dials and disengages again and tries to dial again while explaining.

VIRGINIA (CONT’D)

It was raining and the car slid off the road and  turned over... Tommy is in surgery.

Raleigh stands close to her buttoning his shirt and about to tuck it in ...

RALEIGH

How? I just bought them new tires.  

Virginia disengages the line and starts to dial trying to hold back the tears.

VIRGINIA

DAMMIT!

I don’t know - I need to tell Mama why... DAMMIT!

Raleigh white finishing tucking in his shirt takes the receiver and hangs up the phone.

RALEIGH

We’ll call as soon as we get there. 

Virginia has a moment that only a Mother can have.  Raleigh reaches for her but a tearful Virginia reaches for her purse then remembers to take the pie out of the oven. She switches off the oven and puts the cobbler down - Raleigh takes her gently by the arm - hands her the purse then looks at her and his eyes say “be strong”

We see them head to the Buick 

INT. LOUISE KITCHEN  WITH INTERCUTS

Louise is dialing the phone 

Raleigh and Virginia get in the Buick and as soon as the car door shuts the phone starts to ring .  They dart off.

Louise holds her recipe and waits for Virginia to answer the phone.

CLOSE SCENE WITH THE CAR HAVING PULLED OUT OF SCENE, COBBLER ON THE TABLE, AND THE PHONE RINGING - FADE TO BLACK.

ROLL OPENING CREDITS:

I ran for student council a handful of times. My senior year I even ran for Key Club president. Despite overworking myself on the civic duties associated with these teams, I was never elected for any position. What was sad was seeing how few votes I actually got. In reality it was really painful. But, that didn’t stop my civic duty or responsibilities. Even as a teenager, my mother would have put a belt across my ass if I’d have just taken my ball and gone home.

I see where Georgia’s Secretary of State, Raffensperger, said they will do a by hand recount of every vote in the presidential race. This is really a good faith gesture since the recount was inevitable due to the .05% rule that candidates can request the task. But that requested recount is only a scanned procedure so this extra step with a more in depth measure is nice to see. I await the results and look forward to them being accepted.

 This week has been a total blur.

I almost forgot class on Monday nite because I'd been running around like a chicken with my head cut off all day to get errands completed and my apartment cleaned because my landlord was coming early Tuesday morning to look at a leak from my upstairs neighbor.  

Tuesday was crazy because my landlord likes - really likes - to visit with me and ask 12,000 questions about decorating.  I'm NOT a decorator...I'm just gay.  I also had a meeting with the restaurant that I bake pies for and we worked out a plan for us to offer Thanksgiving pies that I'll make.  I limited the orders to 20 - that's the only 20 hours of my life I can spare that week.  Then, the FUCKING election!  I was out of my skull trying to not worry about it.

Wednesday - did Wednesday even happen?  I slept in until 8am because I stayed up until 3!  I think I cried at least 20 times until I went to bed.  As divided as this nation has been and also people I have called my friends over the past 4 years, I was in peril myself for what the next 4 will bring but in reverse.  

Thursday.  I'm pretty sure Thursday happened.  I had to take my car to the shop for an oil change and have the alignment checked since I had new tires installed last week.  I still have my old "new" car so having something to drive I didn't pay attention to the fact I left my wallet in the car I dropped off.  Thursday I spent too much time watching election results and live feed and making myself crazy(er).  I even forgot to eat dinner.  

Friday I got a call super early from the mechanic - "did you need your wallet?  You left it in the car.  Sorry we're just getting to it today".  No worries, I'll pick it up shortly...but I based that on the guys that were here installing a new HVAC system being done in time for me to pick it up before I left for Ft. Worth.  The brainiacs took a fucking 3 hour lunch and I just sat around with my finger in my ear waiting on them while my landlord came back and drilled me on how to add some pizzaz to an all gold room.  This is really my life?  The numb nuts finally came back but I had to get on the road for an early dinner res in Ft. Worth so I jetted out at 4:15.  I showed up at my friend Becky's house and she, her husband, and I went to a snazzy little place for dinner and her daughter was our bartender.  Then while at dinner Becky pops up and says "go with us to see Patch perform in Waxahachie with Linda"...OK.  Then my phone rings and it's the repair shop.  "Did you not need your wallet this weekend?"  SHIT.  I totally forgot.  "See you Monday"...*click*.  It's a good thing I keep a bill in my console.  We left and went to almost Duncanville to a dive bar about an hour away.  FURTHER than I'd planned on.  A complete dive bar.  Everyone was in Cinch jeans and wrangler tee shirts and trucker hats.  I was in light wash skinny jeans, driving loafers, and a fitted sweat shirt.  I didn't stand out at all.  UGH.  But, seeing "work" friends was fun.   

Saturday - today.  I went to help my friend, Ricky, at an estate sale he was having.  It was dullsville for sure.  Then, an APPLE message - Joe Biden is the president elect.  I immediately burst into tears. I had to go to the toilet to gather myself.  There were so many people at this sale.  It was the last day and there was $8K run through the credit card machine...not bad!  But, I couldn't think about anything else but the election results.  I was super happy combatted with super worried.  I want people to get along and work together to solve the problems we have as a nation and as individuals.  I have the strongest basic instinct to help people and I'm hoping with all things good in this world that we can all be and act the way we need to moving forward.  

I feel lost in the middle of a victory.  I'm a dreamer but I'm also a realist...when I have to be.  So, I'm going to look for what's there - not what I want to be there.  Then, take it one day at a time...and try to remember what day it is.

Look at me on my 3rd birthday in 1982.  The lady holding that little terror is Aunt Bobbye.  In the south there's no shortage of family we have no blood relation to and I can't think of anyone in my family tree I was closer to than she.

We often forget that adults we’ve known our entire life had a life before we knew them.  I listen – a lot.  Yes, sometimes even more than I talk.  

Some of the best things I remember Aunt Bobbye telling me about her childhood – through young adult – was when she was a child and they moved around a lot while her father followed construction work during the depression.  New towns were, in her eyes, a new experience and her biggest fear was that Santa Clause wouldn’t know where she was that year.  She and I had a similar experience with the police when we were children – she was caught filching flowers out of a neighbor’s yard because they were pretty – why else?  I stole and wrecked a car at 3.  It’s practically the same thing.  

Later in her teens when she was driving a hand-me-down Mercury and took it up to the Tower drive in here in El Dorado (which may or may not have been a necking hang out) and somehow broke the key off in the ignition so she left it and just came home.  I never did get a straight answer out of how the key was broken off – I don’t know that her Dad did either after the police, I’m starting to see a pattern here, left from telling her Father he needed to get his car off of private property. 

She was a member of the National Honor Society and was one of the top honor graduates in her class but still found time to swipe cigarettes from her mom and smoke in the bathroom at the Rialto with the cool kids – until she got sick and had to dunk in a stall.   Another ME TOO.   Well, not at the Rialto but still, ME TOO.

The first time her future husband noticed her was at a 4-way stop where she first signaled left, then right, then went straight.  After all, it’s an independent person’s prerogative to change her mind – at anytime.

She wanted to become a teacher and wanted to have her own apartment.  In reality, she completed business school and the first rattle out of the box she was sent on an interview with the Wynne Law firm – a very promising new attorney at the Masonic building downtown.  A fellow classmate and she were sent together and the friend to the El Dorado Realty company.  Bobbye told her friend she didn’t want to work for a stuffy law firm so they switched.  Of course Bobbye got the job and was responsible for writing all the purchase contracts for a new subdivision Mr. Burnside was building off College Avenue – West Wood subdivision.  She wrote and executed many contracts but these were all predominately government FHA contracts and her boss, Annie Laurie, told her she couldn’t make a mistake, NOT ONE!  Well, anyone knew not to dare Bobbye if you didn’t want it done.  She made a mistake, through the duplicates and triplicates, and just got her eraser out and scrubbed then typed over it.  Poof, mistake disappeared.  She never made another mistake again because she knew then she could and it wasn’t the end of the world.  This is another theme.  forgiveness

Her only child came with his own set of problems.  I can say this now – Aunt Bobbye didn’t have a happy marriage and as a product of the times and having a child that needed many surgeries for a birth defect and kidney complications, she resolved herself to staying in a marriage for the security for child – kind of the ultimate sacrifice; I mean, your happiness for the health of your son.  Sacrifice

Many moves for her husband’s career and more trying times later she did in the late 70’s, on a hot August day, lose her abusive spouse, Jimmy,  from a massive heart attack.  Let's talk about this for a minute.  Jimmy had already had one heart attack and was forced to retire from his very lucrative career with colonial bread company that had force them to move to the four corners of the US together.  On this particular day Bobbye had a hair appointment and Jimmy had been in a particularly shitty mood and when she left he told her she was a whore and was going to get laid and he was tired of her lies about it.  Of course nothing was farther from the truth but I wouldn't have held it against her if it had been true.  She went to have her hair done and all the while and on her way home she wondered how long it would be that even in his sickest of days she would have to put up with a man she didn't even love.  Jimmy was a prisoner to what other people thought about him and his success. Every two years he had to trade Bobbye's car for something new and the Plymouth Grand Fury he bought for her was a complete lemon.  All the electric options were always on the fritz but it was an impressive car at the time - Bobbye hated it.  As she pulled in the driveway in the back she saw him standing at the kitchen window and almost wanted to turn around and drive away into oblivion but instead reached down and rolled down the back passenger window.  This window never went back up without a mountain of effort with players and tugging and a string of profanity.   "How was your lie down, slut?" he asked as she passed him in the kitchen.  "The back window won't go back up". "Goddammit" and he grabbed his tools and went down to fix the issue.  It was 100 degrees outside and it had already been a bad morning health wise for Jimmy.  Bobbye stood at the window and watched him wrestle with the door and window and then saw him try to stand up and then fall to the ground.  He tried to get up a second time but it was all over.  Bobbye walked over and sat down at the table and lit a cigarette and when she was finished with that, she walked over to the window to see her husband still on the ground beside the car and then called for an ambulance.  After he got to the hospital it only took an hour for him to slip away.  When she told me this story I replied "you killed him" she just looked at me and never said another word.

After Jimmy's death she faced with being independent for the first time in 28 years.  She had already been keeping a few kids before her husband’s death, my cousin Missy – her niece, Hayley, Crystal, and our Craig.  Then I came along – I was only 8 weeks old but my mother had a career to pursue and Bobbye needed something to do.  Accidently, she opened her own business.  She found her niche.  Suppressed was a childhood desire to be like her Aunt Clara – Bobbye always wanted to be a teacher.   Here was her opportunity to answer her calling.  

She was my second mother.  I called her mama one day and she quipped back – I’m not your Mama!  Well, you’re my second mama.   And she was. 

I didn’t have the happiest home life at the time and we came into each other’s life at just the right time.  Eventually an opportunity came for my Mother to take a Thursday night art class and Bobbye told her to go right ahead because I could spend that night with her.  It started when I was 4 and stopped when I was – I don’t remember?  After the last kid left we’d pile up in that blue Ford Fairmount Futura and head to Sonic for a foot long cheese Coney then go home and watch Knots Landing.  I didn’t know what I was watching and she made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone.  But, the best way to get found out is to tell a kid to keep a secret.  

She took me to school - kindergarten through 2^nd grade.  Eventually I talked her into letting me walk home to her house because if she came to pick me up she’d COME IN and see my name on the board and I was tired of getting a spanking every day.  I kinda’ think she fell for that but it was probably because she was tired of piling 10 kids in a 2 door car to come pick me up.

We spent every Sunday morning and lunch together too.  She was my Sunday school teacher and how small of a world is it that our minister was the very lawyer she snubbed 35 years prior.  Bill Wynne.  He was cool.  He gave me $1 to light the alter candles and then another $1 to put them out.  She always tried to stop Bill from giving me money and I vaguely remember telling her “she couldn’t have it”.  Yeah, I said that once.  From then on I kept my mouth shut.  But, I still got the 2 bucks.

In the mid 80’s her son, Lynn, was admitted to a nursing facility in Louisiana, I’d go with her to visit him.  This was the only time I’d ever see her cry.  Lynn suffered later in life from brain damage and wasn’t able to live independently and Bobbye did what she had to do to keep him safe.  He was in his early 30’s. 

Aunt Bobbye was the person I’d call when I had something beyond belief to talk about whether it was really good or really bad.  She’d listen – for hours if it took that long.  Then, she’d say it “Let me tell you something” and I knew it was my  turn to listen for a while.  By the time we’d hang up the phone (she was the only person I could call long distance and my mom didn’t rush me off the phone) or if I was there – before it was time for bed, the problem was less severe and there was at least a light at the end of the tunnel.  She understood me.  She understood everyone.  Her love was unconditional.

I didn’t get to spend as much time with her after I moved to Dallas but we still kept our talks on the phone. 

From a lifetime of one illness to another to include a complete hystorectomy at 24 to a thyroid removal in the 1980's, a mastectomy from breast cancer, a kidney removal from renal cancer and a brain tumor at 73 and shortly after that when we started to lose her to Alzheimer’s about 10 years ago, that was the hardest.  It was hard for both of us.  We did make a promise that when it started to get really bad we’d just laugh.  That wasn’t too hard since she rarely needed an excuse to laugh – or smile.   It’s hard to see someone you love, someone who was so INDEPENDENT, SMART, SELFLESS, ACCOMPLISHED, FUN, and LOVING slowly slip away until September 7, 2019 when she made her final exit of complications from a biopsy on a lump found in her lung. But, now she’s all those things AND at peace.  

I loved her.  And she loved and accepted each person she knew.  Take one thing with you today beside the love she had for everyone – take the same ability to accept what life throws at you and not let it destroy you.  Instead, let it make you stronger and more understanding.  Be an Aunt Bobbye.

I could talk for hours about how wonderful and smart she was but I'll never be able to tell you how much I loved her.

On the DOOD I was #3.  Last year I scored a really great part in a movie that shot in Tulsa, OK.  I played Peter Haley, the father to the main character, Noah (played by Jude Manley), in The Adventures of A.R.I.: My Robot Friend.  14 days on set.  It was amazing.  It was a cookie cutter script but the project had already been pre-arranged for distribution through Lionsgate and it was a really decent flick.  There was talk about there being a sequel but nothing has been mentioned since we wrapped and the two lead kid characters have since been cast in two different projects by the same production company, ACE entertainment.  

This has been the most important production I've been a part of to date.  I sent thank you notes to everyone at their homes after I returned to Dallas on note cards I bought in Tulsa with Route 66 themes.  I professed my gratitude for being part of the team and mentioned this was my first major movie production I'd been a part of.  I tend to have diarrhea of the mouth and later kind of worried I'd said too much and maybe it was creepy that I researched and found everyone's home address to send the cards.  The DP was Brian Vilim and he's married to Joey Lauren Adams who I met on set when she came to visit.  Visiting no-name actors on set is one thing but getting a surprise note in the mail from one might have been one step too far.  I hope not though.  

I learned how to drive a car with about 8 inches of visibility because of the lighting strapped to the front of the car and a camera basically resting on my ear and that was priceless.  The DP (who's brand new Jag I was driving) told me I had mad skills and after a few takes during my close up scenes he started calling me Jason Bateman because of my dead pan delivery they seemed to not be able to get enough of.  Brian wasn't the most approachable person so I took these compliments as truth and when I was invited to have drinks one evening with he and the producers in our hotel I accepted and we all talked about our personal lives (I kept it light) and I didn't bring up my acting career or aspirations at all.  I felt like selling myself in an intimate setting was a little too gauche.  I feel that was the right thing to do but sometimes I wonder if I missed an opportunity.  What if, what if, what if...

Networking in the film industry is a little foreign to me with all the politics at play.  I can hook you up with just about anything from a pie to a mortgage for your home but why does it feel like in the entertainment world I feel like such an outsider?  I've written and produced a couple of films and they have been nominated for awards and recognized modestly by the film community but the same sense of confidence just isn't there like when I help someone find that perfect sofa or pair of diamond earrings.  Does it ever feel right?  Does it ever click?

I've written a screenplay and consulted with some name people in the industry of which two have been very supportive of my idea and vision.  Pat Resnick told me I have a great ear for dialog and Del Shores, who started the desire to write, has asked me "when are you going to make this already?"  A feature is a lot different than a 10 minute short film.  My agent, Linda, told me to make a sizzle and sell the idea to investors and get the show on the road.  But my conflict is that I want to be in the film and not just create the script.  I've seen people do both with success but this is the one thing that both intrigues and intimidates me at the same time.  I don't have a lot of money and what I do have I've earmarked for my security blanket now that I'm on my own completely and am focusing 100% of my efforts to acting.  I wish there was a guidebook - you know, a 1+2=3 type equation.  My script is about time travel when a son loses his mother and discovers a secret past that he feels he needs to correct but eventually realizes that those choices can't be erased.  It's heavily based on my relationship with my mother and introduces a lot of my family members who are characters in themselves.  

I feel that I'm ready for whatever comes my way but why, for the first time in my life, am I so timid of what that might be?

 The cutest asshole I've ever known, Saxon.  He's very French.  

Those of us that don't have children of our own still have the need to have a little one around to take care of.  This little fella' was one of those "love at first sight" situations.  My former parter, Rob, and I had a rescue Bichon that fought a year long battle with lymphoma and after he crossed the rainbow bridge and a month of Rob crying every evening when he came home, it was clear another baby had to come into our lives.  That happened with a 4 month old little fur ball with the most bizarre personality I've ever experienced.  I never had a dog as a child - that just wasn't something that was thought of as a necessity for me.  Until you have one, I don't think you truly understand how important they are in your life.  

Saxon has been on my mind, every day, for months now.  After a difficult separation and eventual break-up with Rob, Saxon now lives with him in Fayetteville, AR.  

I've lost a lot in the past 10 months.  For 8 years I had what I thought was a stable relationship with a person of extreme value in my life.  He was/is very successful.  Like one of my aunt's would say "they have a nice house and have nice cars" but there was more to the connection I though we had.  I had security for the first time in my life.  I grew up an only child of a single parent that was an only child and princess herself.  There was no doubt that my mother loved me but when it came to who matters most, she would always choose herself before anyone else.  I didn't have support on ventures I wanted to explore because they were combatted with jealousy on her part on the things I did and experienced.  I really was expected to live in the same small town I grew up in and work for a business and stifle my dreams so I could take care of family.  I do support those I love but I can't suppress myself.  I was meant to do exactly what I'm doing right now - live with enough means to survive and save 10% for the future.  Even though I didn't get a lot of support I did gain the knowledge that I need to survive independently and after that everything just falls into place.  It's not all sad if you don't want it to be.

Rob and I had a good run.  I took care of my own expenses and he took care of the rest.  We traveled and I followed him on most of his business trips to New York and Los Angeles when I could and that was usually every other month.  We didn't keep score of who did what but the balance of him paying the mortgage and utilities while I maintained the house and property actually made both of us happy.  Our views did differ on overspending.  He was given everything he wanted during his formative years so there was a disconnect on his stance of "I want it now" and my "lets work towards this together".  We did agree on the house we lived in for the last 4 years.  4424 N Hall St.  A storybook English cottage style home built in 1922.  After selling our first hime we rented for a year looking for the right place to call our forever home.  The area in Oak Lawn known as Perry Heights was a favorite area of mine and Rob was smitten with its convenient location and the house checked off everything we both wanted.  Two stories, 3 bedrooms, a delightful sunroom, a pool, a 1,000 square foot garage big enough for both cars and storage for my junk business.  And the kitchen had been remodeled in the place of what was the kitchen, breakfast room, and laundry porch.  HEAVEN.  Miles of counter space and professional grade appliances.  I didn't mind pouring my heart and sweat into every detail of small restoration projects, painting, furnishing, and ultimately research on the property itself.  Zero amount of pretension was involved in living in this home, it was was where my heart was.  A family with Rob and Saxon inside my idea of the perfect manageable property and great neighbors was just gravy on the biscuit.

We swapped out 3 different sofas before the perfect one was found.  Two sets of everyday china until I found one that really fit the house.  My little baby grand piano was ALMOST too big for the living room but it was perfect and commanded to be played which I did pretty much everyday.  I'm no Liberace but I can play from a fake book with the best of them using just chords and right had movements.   The house seemed to demand togetherness and music from the first time I walked through the door.  Some places just have a certain spirit.  Every dinner party was always effortless and perfect.  Cocktail hours were a favorite of everyone because you could be inside or out with the perfect entertainment flow as long as you didn't have more than 20 people at a time...even though sometimes there were.  I don't know how to tell you how good it feels when friends you love ask if you'll host their party.  Being together with the people you love really is the best thing of all.

2 years ago for Rob's  Christmas present, I did a complete history of all the owners of 4424.  A friend of mine at a title company helped me fish through the chain of title and that mixed with my previous mortgage underwriting experience we went all the way back to the parcel of land that was developed by E. Gordon Perry, that Perry Heights was named for, the construction, first owners all the way through Rob.  Along the way I sleuthed enough to find a daughter of one of the owners that lived there between 1945 and 1955.  This was the most exciting thing.  Her name is Terry Leahy Jenkins and her professional name was Terry Lea.  She began her singing career as a performer with the USO and then on the syndicated WFAA show, The Earlybirds.  After she started her own family she didn't have time for radio work any longer but did find her niche as a jingle vocalist for PAMS in Dallas.  I found a tremendous amount of information in the DMN archives on her and her life and even found on YouTube some of the jingles - one was a song I recognized from when I lived in Little Rock, AR.                    

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DkFL1i76JsI   - Copy/paste and listen.  

But, what brought tears to my eyes was finding out she was still alive.  I found her phone number and called her:  "Hello".  Is this Mrs. Terry Jenkins?  "It is".  This is J.R. Brown and I wondered if you had a few minutes to talk.  "It depends about what". I live at 4424 N. Hall St here in Dallas.  "OH, MY.  How fascinating.  I used to live there with my parents".  We talked for over an hour.  Her father would play the piano every night after dinner while Terry and her mother would sing and wash the dishes.  I even found several promotional 45's on eBay and gave to Rob with his present of the lineage of the house and for his birthday the next year I had framed the original real estate listing for the house.  This was a crazy lucky find because it actually mentioned the address which was not something most ads included that long ago.  And as a present to myself, I bought a sketch rendering of E. Gordon Perry himself.  It was a token of appreciation from his employees at his Dodge dealership (the first one in Texas) in 1927.  A friend of mine in Little Rock sent me a text photo while at an estate sale and asked if the guy was anything to do with our neighborhood.  It in fact was and the man himself.  I still have it.

Rob has a impulsive personality.  He got into big financial trouble gambling online and by the time I found out about it it was so bad that there was only one option to relieve the debt.  He had to refinance the house and use the equity to pay off sky high interest credit cards and personal loans.  It was almost the breaking point but I couldn't just walk away from 7 years with someone and if I really cared I'd help him.  So I did. For the first time money was tight but we had a plan and in 6 years this would all financially be behind us. A short time later he was fired from his job (but this was a good thing) and got a year's severance and a final stock payout from JCP.  We planned to use what was left to pay off the second mortgage after he got a job.  5 months went by and finally an offer, from Wal-Mart.  In the interim I'd started working full time for a design showroom for a friend and obligated myself to 1 year of employment for the sizable amount she was paying me.  After seeing how much money we DIDN'T have, I realized I needed to have a nest egg of my own for real emergencies and not just for savings alone.  Rob had to move to Fayetteville but luckily he'd gotten a large signing bonus and with the left over money in his severance and my income, we could keep the house and pay off the second mortgage.  Except, Rob had continued to gamble and had spent about 1/2 of the severance money.  He then leaped on the first house he saw to rent in Fayetteville even though it was too big and too expensive.  I had no say in this and was left out of all decisions associated with the move.  There was no plan that was followed on his part.  He had to have the small amount of equity that was left in the house to pay down more debt that was incurred and the absence of the mortgage payment would pay off the rest in a year.  I reluctantly went along with this even though I begged to let me stay in our home and I could pay for the mortgage myself. We didn't know if he'd like it in Arkansas and the Corona Virus was just gaining attention.  I told him he might want to have options if they were to close down the corporate offices - which they did 3 weeks after he started work.

 It was my home, too.  But, since the house was only in his name the fate was sealed.  He moved and I was left to get the house ready to put on the market.  I had 2 weeks to finish a project in a bedroom upstairs where I'd striped all the woodwork and repaint the entire room.  I planted some flowers and ended up painting the entire upstairs and fluffed the empty bedrooms where he'd taken furniture to Arkansas.  The house went on the market and sold in a week.  I'd spent so much time getting it ready that I didn't focus enough on where I'd go.  The closing was moved up two weeks and I had 2 weeks to find a new place to live and pack to move out of my home.  I took a leap that I now regret and moved into the spare room with my across the street neighbor.  Conveniently, she went to Colorado to stay with her ailing parents and this was during the early stages of the pandemic so she could work from anywhere.  Sadly, I realized how much other neighbors and her friends just welcomed themselves to her house and pool and it was impossible to stay there with nightly drunken parties and people riffling through my things while I was at work.  

In late February I was in an automobile accident and unfortunately my truck was totaled and I really hurt my back.  The nightmare of dealing with insurance companies to get the full value of my vehicle, work 6 days a week, and go to physical therapy 3 times a week really took its toll on me.  When they finally decided to 100% total my truck I had 24 hours to buy a new ride.  I bought a decent 2 year old sedan but it wasn't what I wanted - hell, I don't even like the car.  But, I bought what I could afford from what was available and moved on.  

I did find a duplex and while Rob and I were still trying to fix things in our relationship I reluctantly rented a place with his pledge to supplement the rent with $1,000 a month.  As it turned out his ability to do that was because he'd threatened a wrongful termination lawsuit with JCP and they gave him a six figure "go away" settlement.  This was also during the time that I was getting the house on the market...this would have paid off the second mortgage and I could have stayed in the house with that missing expense.  But, with that money, Rob bought a new very expensive SUV and surprised me with the news and then lied about how much it was and also how much the payment was as well as it bought it already upside down because he owed more on his trade-in that it was worth - and that SUV was not even a year old.  The straw that did finally break the camel's back was when he mentioned making an offer on a house in Fayetteville.  I told him if he bought this house after forcing me out of the one we had that we were not going to continue our relationship and he was still in his option period so it was possible.  But, he bought the house.  

The hardest thing I ever have had to do in my life was to sever ties with the one person I really unconditionally loved.  I had to realize that there was no consideration for me, my feelings, or my needs.  His instant gratifications were more important than building a life together.  That's hard to realize and even harder to accept.

This isn't the first time that I've had to dust myself off and try again but it is the hardest by far.  I saw my "friends" that were my neighbors for who they really were and removed myself from that toxic situation. I'd also agreed for Rob to take our little puppy boy to AR with him because he was up there alone and needed some company.  Funny, isn't it?  How having so much consideration for someone can leave you with nothing for yourself?

I've lost a lot this year.  The pandemic didn't help.  

I did have an opportunity to join an acting group and I took it.  I was in a toxic place in the job I had that wasn't my passion to begin with so I made up my mind to leave that to explore what really makes me happy and had been my #2 focus all along.  My acting career.  I had the opportunity to buy a different car, one I REALLY like at a cash price so I'm in the process of selling the sedan I don't want and will not have that payment every month.  This makes me happy.

I thought I'd be farther along at 40 but every day I'm further than I was the day before.  I'm still here.  I'm going to make it.  I have to - and I will.

  

I waited too long. 

As a side hustle I buy and sell things.  Some new-ish and some old.  A great place to search for cool things for me to sell in my booth at a local vendor mall, Lula B's is FB marketplace.  The thrill of the hunt is one thing but waiting too long to reach out and make the deal means YOU LOSE!  

It's hard not bringing this way of thinking into all of my endeavors in life.  I usually try to do too much too quickly but I hate to know that I let a good opportunity pass me by.  I have learned, though, in other aspects of my life it's best to let things work through the proper channels but it does go against my grain as a human being.  My life has been 41 years of making my own way and at times providing for others at certain junctions.  I meditate everyday to learn when is the best time to push for what I want and not seem like I'm that asshole trying to get ahead by any means possible.  

Everyday is a winding road.

Cute house, huh?  

465 Wells St. Camden, AR.  Built in 1911 by the Call family then my great-grandparents, Oscar and Josie Knight, bought it in 1943.  Originally, this house sat on 10 acres and was a self-sufficient farm with livestock, chickens, garden, and fruit trees.  My grandmothers family had lived one county over all her life and moved "to town" after she'd moved to San Diego to marry my grandfather before he was shipped off to fight in WWII.  She lived her when she came home to have my mother and they both lived here until my grandfather came home from the war.

3,100 square feet.  Big even by today's standards.  My great-grandparents left a larger home in the country and moved here because there were less children living at home at this time.  In total, there were 8 kids; 5 girls and 3 boys.  This house had 6 bedrooms and at the time, no indoor plumbing.  After Oscar died in 1950, Josie was faced with 3 children still living at home and a mortgage to pay.  She had the inside plumbed for a bath downstairs and one up as well as making two apartments upstairs with sinks for a kitchen area.  She needed the rental income to cover the mortgage and things the land could not provide.  She was also a seamstress - to this day if I go home there are still people that talk about the clothes she made for them and she stopped sewing for people around 1980.   She was also a really good woman and she loved her children more than anything.  Proof?  There was a clause in Oscar's will that stated if Josie ever remarried she would loose the house and it would go to his nearest relative.  It was to always be a place where she alone could welcome her family and everyone who came through the doors was welcome to stay as long as they needed to. I don't know that she would have ever been interested in marrying again but she did give up the opportunity to make sure her family always had a place to come home to.

I grew up going to the this house along with all the offsprings of the 8 children, my great aunts and uncles and my second cousins.  I'm an only child so my extended family was my family.  Every Sunday was a reason to get together and there would be 30-50 people at the house at one time.  The dining room sat 10 people but that was for adults.  There was a table for 6 in the kitchen but until someone was 18 or older, you would either sit outside at the picnic table, inside on the stairs, or at the ironing board (this was the last stop before the kitchen table).  All of this was a growing tradition since the home was purchased by my family and continued strong until the mid 90's. 

Josie died in 1988 and everyone used her legacy as a reason to stay close but when the first son died in 1992, the first daughter in 1995, then my grandmother that same year, things and traditions started to trail off.  My grandmother's generation was unstoppable and inseparable.  Their children were not so coherent in that mindset and today we see a house still standing but nobody visits the cousin that now lives there.

I moved away in 2001 and that was amid a scandal that rocked our family to its core.  One of my mother's first cousins talked everyone into letting him handle a timber transaction for the old home place that was originally Oscar and Josie's home they'd left to buy this house.  They tore down the previous house and sold the lumber but kept the 200 acres they had farmed cotton on and left it to it's own natural continuation and by 2000-2002 there was rich virgin timber admittedly ripe for the picking.  Everyone cashed in but none more than the cousin that initiated the deal.  My mother was the only person that didn't let him invest her share and she was the only one that didn't loose everything as well.  Even though we found out he'd already taken more than 1/2 the value of the cuttings without telling anyone he also lost the rest on a venture much larger than himself.  The funny thing is he could have lost everyone's house, car, and first born and nobody would have blamed him but lying and then stealing was what brought the entire house down.  This was the first time that anyone had ever done this to our family and it came from inside.  It divided the entire family and caused most to just simply go their separate ways.  

I went home this weekend and saw family I'm still close to.  I drove by "the hill" and saw what was my happiest childhood memories dancing through the yard and the trees.  Through the debacle earlier this century, Venis, who is the last remaining brother to my grandmother, did some fancy footwork and bought the house so it would be saved from the bank foreclosures so he still owns it but he lives in Nyack, NY.  I visit him often but can't now that we're in a global pandemic and his health has had a turn for the worse.  He's 92.  

Maybe it's a lost cause but I feel in my heart I should buy this house from him.  I know I have a stronger sense of family than the rest of my clan but I can't spend this kind of money right now to buy a house in a town I don't even live in.  But I want to.  And like everything else in my life that I wanted to do - I've accomplished.

Next chapter - when it's written.

 Today I got to spend some quality time with a good friend of mine, Ricky, who owns an estate sale company.  He got a call while we were at lunch to go dig through a house in Irving and I got to tag along.  You never know what you're going to find and this time it was a very nice 1970's home that was clean a a pin and very organized.  All the trash and unnecessary items had already been discarded and the daughter of the deceased owner gave us a tour then all the time we needed to explore and collect the things we wanted to buy.  One of the first things I saw was an old man head made out of pottery and the glaze/color looked so familiar and after I did a quick Google search I knew I was correct.  It's Camark pottery, made in my home town of Camden, Arkansas.  He's a quite rare piece because he was designed to hang on the wall and there is a slit in the top to put used razor blades.  Can you imagine how many of these got knocked off and broken?  I love the color, too.  After I'd made my small pile of treasures I got to visit with the daughter, Tammie.  She was delightful - one of those people that you immediately like from the first minute.  We talked about loosing our mothers and the emotional roller coaster you ride after you loose a parent and have to deal with all the final arrangements, estate liquidation, and the grief.  She asked me what I did for a living and I told her I was an actor and she immediately asked me if I knew Kevin Howard.  I said I did and she sent him a text which he responded "he's a fantastic baker".  I asked what she did for a living and she said she edits video content for advertising firms and laughed when I said "just fix it in post".  The world really is TINY if you just let it be.  Tammie Kleinman, post production guru...amongst other things.  😃

There were still a few things that needed to be moved around and brought out of the attic and Tammie told me her brother, Robert, would be over to do that shortly.  Then she told me that Robert wasn't really her brother but a guy she met in the 5th grade and brought home and her family practically adopted him and they have been like brother and sister ever since.  When I met Robert he whizzed in the driveway in his little 2 door blue Ford Escort and popped out and said "Hey Kingpin" (referring to Tammie) and she told him to come inside so they could get to work.  Robert is about 6 feet tall, handsome, and a great story teller.  He and I talked for about thirty minutes and he told  me all about his life knowing Tammie and her family and his short time in Seattle and how glad he was to be a Texan.  One thing those folks in Washington didn't know about, TEA CAKES, was enough for him to realize he'd made a mistake moving up there.  After spending our time together, I understood that Robert is a little simple-minded but what was most obvious was that he has a beautiful and giving heart.  His pleasure comes from helping those he loves.  While Ricky and I were packing up to leave Robert helped load things in the van and we told him how proud we were to meet him and looked forward to seeing him again very soon.  Ricky will be going back on Sunday to help them set up for a dealer buyout of the remaining contents of the house and I'm going to try to clear my schedule but even if I can't, Robert will have a batch of homemade tea cakes all his own.  

 

 I found this Lincoln on FB market place.  1984, the year I started kindergarten and my family was living in El Dorado, Arkansas.  I was five and just 2 years prior I'd wrecked my mother's Buick Electra - she never forgave me for that.  My mother, Gloria, was married to my step-father at the time and he ran the body shop at the Lincoln-Mercury dealership in Camden, Arkansas.  Mother had always wanted a new Lincoln and they bought one just like this one shortly after my birthday in July.  Cars have always been a big deal to me, an obsession really.  I was over the moon when I saw this beast pull up at dusk in front of Aunt Bobby's house, where I stayed every day of my life until I was eight years old while my parents worked.  The glow of the opera lights and the big shiny disc wheel covers on a car that seems 3 miles long was almost more than I could stand.  As mom came down the walk I met her and asked if it was ours and she said yes.  I asked her if it took all the money in her purse to buy it and she laughed as she took a long drag off her Eve Ultra Light 120 and said it did.  The smell of a new car and the fact it was a Lincoln, I knew we had arrived.  My step-father, Jim, later traded out the base model discs for wire wheel covers and put a personalized license plate on it that said "DOLL BABY", that was my mother's nickname.  He wasn't as sophisticated as my mother but he meant well and she reluctantly let it slide.  I found out later this was an attempt for him to try to make their marriage work.   Shortly after this he opened his own collision repair center and it was a booming business, he really did have the magic touch to put cars back together without a trace of the damage that had once plagued them.  Mother was hard to please but the fact that Jim was a recovering alcoholic didn't help his delicate grasp on reality and that also didn't help his inability to handle success.  They were married for about 6 months after these big purchases and he lost his battle with the bottle.  The business was taken from the bank and mother divorced him with just her income from working as the chief of admitting at Union Medical Center and that wasn't a whole lot.  On a Friday night in January we packed up the Lincoln and headed to Camden to stay the weekend with my grandmother, Virginia.  I heard she and my mother talking in the kitchen and I remember hearing phrases like "who would people think I was trying to put on heirs" and "that was more than anyone should have to spend for a car".  I didn't really know what that meant but the next afternoon mom came home in an Oldsmobile station wagon and cried the rest of the evening.  I later learned that my mom had asked my grandmother to buy the car for what she owed and they could swap vehicles and that meant mom would take her Buick.  My grandmother was comfortable financially but I know now that was due to not being extravagant on things like cars.  Mom took the Lincoln back to the dealership where she bought it and they accepted the return and just called it even.  Looking back on that it was the last hope of a successful marriage and like the marriage itself, the car went away too.  Over the years I've searched for one like that same car that pulled up on that dusky evening and I found this one - and as much as I wanted to buy it, it was a little too pricy for a toy at $12,500 even with only 27,000 miles.  I find lots of cars on the internet that remind me of different times of my and loved ones life.  I dream about buying them and sharing them with others but when it comes down to the deed, I have too much of my grandmother's blood running through my veins and admit to myself it's a little more than I should commit to.  This car came along at the same time I found out I could take a 2 year acting course online and also when I came to the realization if I took said course I'd have to give up working 6 days a week as I had been for the last 10 months.  So, I accepted the course obligation, gave my notice at work so I could devote my full attention to my chosen profession, and let the car go on to another dreamer.  One day I'll be able to buy what I want without thinking of the consequences - won't that be nice?