My Adventures in Boston: Tale’s End

    My Adventures in Boston: Tale’s End

    tale’s end

    ……………………………………

    My Adventures in Boston: Tale’s End

    New Year’s Eve, 1987

    The fog is so thick that around the streetlights it looks like falling snow.

    Perfect weather for the last day of the year, perfect weather for my mood. Because of the lining up of the Sun, Moon, and Earth, the entire west coast is suffering from incredibly high tides, and is blanketed under clouds, fog, and mist, and.

    The weather is muck but the temperature is a fine 60 F.

    For lunch today a large group of Oracleites went to a beer joint and wolfed down burgers and half-and-half (Guiness Stout and Bass Ale). Then I played the Division of Motor Vehicles game: got my driver’s license, registered my car, and got a vanity plate, “XINU” (UNIX backwards).

    The tape-delay of the ball-drop in Times Square just happened.

    I’m alone at Jeff Fried’s house because my car was run off the road near Oracle on my way back to the party.

    I’m okay and the damamge is confined to the left front tire and hub. Maureen, Gary, and Robert Kohlhase went out to pick me up but got lost. Two years ago, accounting for time zones, I was standing with Patty on top of Atlantis Uno in the Canary Islands, listening to the cab drivers honk and shout.

    Fireworks were lighting up the island, we jumped around avoiding getting hit by the small fireworks the children were setting off.

    I don’t remember what I was doing last year, if it was like previous years I was skiing in Fleishman’s, NY.

    The quiet is eerie, but somehow appropriate for this nostalgic mood.

    Major thoughts on my mind: what’s it going to take to get the bunny going and what’s 1987 going to bring?

    Springtime, 15 Lockness Lane, San Raphael, California

    I long for a time past.

    How common this afflication must be, yet never before affected me!

    So much I have learned from the catastrophe of having Patty break up with me.

    I have become so much more aware of my feelings and needs, and how I must have appeared to her.

    Were that I could be thrust back in time I would be much wiser with this knowledge. That’s growth, I’m told.

    Conclusion

    Some thoughts that have recently come to mind:

    There was only one time in my life that I’ve ever felt love and returned it.

    I screwed it up because I didn’t know the correct treatment of a loved one.

    Will I regret this forever?

    The nicest feeling I ever had was whenever I was flying back to Boston and I knew that on the ground was waiting for me a little redhead who was oh! so excited to have me back.

    I knew that a hug, a kiss, and a twirl would signal the end of the trip.

    I’d be back where I belonged, with her.

    Thanksgiving Day, 1988

    I call Patty at her mother’s house in Canton.

    We spoke; Patty was very nervous.

    Finally she blurted out that she’d married Jim Rapp in June of 1988.

    She’d known him since February of 1987.

    Patty was married at 23 years of age.

    Spring, 1989

    Not really over it, I’d at least thought I’d put my years with Patty behind me.

    Until today.

    I came home to the apartment with a huge sundeck only to find Patty’s voice on my answering machine!

    I actually needed to sit down; the feelings come flooding back over me.

    After two days I’m ready to call her.

    She says she’ll be coming to San Francisco for a law conference and she’d like to get together.

    That would be fine, I say, feeling guarded and thrilled all at the same time. She never comes.

    Spring, 1994

    On a whim I give Patty’s mother a call to get Patty’s current phone number.

    I leave a message.

    Several days later Patty calls.

    She’s got three kids now, doesn’t practice law, and spends the days watching Barney with them.

    She’s become her mother.

    Conclusion

    Life moves on. Betrayal hurts. We try to be the best people we can, given our upbringing and circumstances and personalities.

    Have you found errors nontrivial or marginal, factual, analytical and illogical, arithmetical, temporal, or even typographical? Please let me know; drop me . Thanks!

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    My Adventures in Boston: Tale’s End

    My Adventures in Boston: Tale’s End

    tale’s end

    ……………………………………

    My Adventures in Boston: Tale’s End

    New Year’s Eve, 1987

    The fog is so thick that around the streetlights it looks like falling snow.

    Perfect weather for the last day of the year, perfect weather for my mood. Because of the lining up of the Sun, Moon, and Earth, the entire west coast is suffering from incredibly high tides, and is blanketed under clouds, fog, and mist, and.

    The weather is muck but the temperature is a fine 60 F.

    For lunch today a large group of Oracleites went to a beer joint and wolfed down burgers and half-and-half (Guiness Stout and Bass Ale). Then I played the Division of Motor Vehicles game: got my driver’s license, registered my car, and got a vanity plate, “XINU” (UNIX backwards).

    The tape-delay of the ball-drop in Times Square just happened.

    I’m alone at Jeff Fried’s house because my car was run off the road near Oracle on my way back to the party.

    I’m okay and the damamge is confined to the left front tire and hub. Maureen, Gary, and Robert Kohlhase went out to pick me up but got lost. Two years ago, accounting for time zones, I was standing with Patty on top of Atlantis Uno in the Canary Islands, listening to the cab drivers honk and shout.

    Fireworks were lighting up the island, we jumped around avoiding getting hit by the small fireworks the children were setting off.

    I don’t remember what I was doing last year, if it was like previous years I was skiing in Fleishman’s, NY.

    The quiet is eerie, but somehow appropriate for this nostalgic mood.

    Major thoughts on my mind: what’s it going to take to get the bunny going and what’s 1987 going to bring?

    Springtime, 15 Lockness Lane, San Raphael, California

    I long for a time past.

    How common this afflication must be, yet never before affected me!

    So much I have learned from the catastrophe of having Patty break up with me.

    I have become so much more aware of my feelings and needs, and how I must have appeared to her.

    Were that I could be thrust back in time I would be much wiser with this knowledge. That’s growth, I’m told.

    Conclusion

    Some thoughts that have recently come to mind:

    There was only one time in my life that I’ve ever felt love and returned it.

    I screwed it up because I didn’t know the correct treatment of a loved one.

    Will I regret this forever?

    The nicest feeling I ever had was whenever I was flying back to Boston and I knew that on the ground was waiting for me a little redhead who was oh! so excited to have me back.

    I knew that a hug, a kiss, and a twirl would signal the end of the trip.

    I’d be back where I belonged, with her.

    Thanksgiving Day, 1988

    I call Patty at her mother’s house in Canton.

    We spoke; Patty was very nervous.

    Finally she blurted out that she’d married Jim Rapp in June of 1988.

    She’d known him since February of 1987.

    Patty was married at 23 years of age.

    Spring, 1989

    Not really over it, I’d at least thought I’d put my years with Patty behind me.

    Until today.

    I came home to the apartment with a huge sundeck only to find Patty’s voice on my answering machine!

    I actually needed to sit down; the feelings come flooding back over me.

    After two days I’m ready to call her.

    She says she’ll be coming to San Francisco for a law conference and she’d like to get together.

    That would be fine, I say, feeling guarded and thrilled all at the same time. She never comes.

    Spring, 1994

    On a whim I give Patty’s mother a call to get Patty’s current phone number.

    I leave a message.

    Several days later Patty calls.

    She’s got three kids now, doesn’t practice law, and spends the days watching Barney with them.

    She’s become her mother.

    Conclusion

    Life moves on. Betrayal hurts. We try to be the best people we can, given our upbringing and circumstances and personalities.

    Have you found errors nontrivial or marginal, factual, analytical and illogical, arithmetical, temporal, or even typographical? Please let me know; drop me . Thanks!

    |

    |

    |

    |

    |

    |

    |

    |

    This page

    is

    1993-2006 by ,

    via the Creative Commons License. Questions and comments? Send

    to the Geek Times Webmaster. (Domain and web content hosting at .)

    Leave a Reply

    Your email address will not be published.