Solitude Isn't For Me

"Why the devil didn't you at least drop me a line?
Or had you forgotten my existence?"
-Nial Kent
"The Divided Path"

Anthony Hopkins, the British actor, bought a huge Spanish-style mansion in Ojai, California.
"I walked around thinking this is beautiful," he said. "But it was lonely. I'd sit on a kitchen stool watching TV every night. Solitude isn't for me, so I sold it for a lesser price and moved back to L.A."
-as recently read
in PAGE SIX
of The New York Post

PHOTO: Anthony Hopkins as Hannibal Lecter M.D.

Twenty-five years ago today:

April 26, 1984
Thursday

Today marks twenty-four years and eleven months since my birth.

At 9AM I called Chris Cordellos at Humboldt Bay. We discussed our not-so-hot conversation of yesterday.
"I had a bad dream thanks to you," Chris said as I listened intently before I gave my spiel.
"Well, I admit to making a few snide remarks, but it was merely my jealousy at hand. I have my own selfish yearnings that need reassurance. I mean, with Jim Severn visiting you every night, you having fun parties with Barb and Leandra and others. How do you think I should feel?"
We cleared the air by talking. We are back on A-1 terms. We can't wait until our Huntington Beach escape in August. We feel good and glad about one another again.
I ended the conversation by saying, "Watch the mailbox. I mailed more photo prints out to you today."

At noon I shared lunch with my brother, Tony, and Helen. Helen brought the homemade lasagna for us. It was so good!

After my workday I went bicycling until 6:45PM. It was quite windy.

Later the telephone rang from our neighbor across the street, Leilani Leonard. I learned that our next door neighbor, Terry Johnson, shot himself to death! He didn't commit suicide in the house next door (360 Magnolia Drive) but in an apartment in Central Alameda. It was such a surprise. He's married with two twin daughters. He was obviously troubled. I had heard he had a drug problem.
"He was a coke dealer," my Dad had said.
It's another reminder that "Life is too short" to waste on troubles, worries, fixations, habits and the 'wrong people'.

I telephoned mom at work. I couldn't wait to give her the neighborhood gossip. When I told her the news of Terry Johnsons' suicide I think we both imagined him mowing the lawn next door (as we always did). Mom sighed in that shocking way.

And to think that Robert Kennedy's 28 year old son (David A Kennedy) died yesterday as well. The media has reported the death as a drug overdose. The media timeline of David Kennedy's death is as follows:
January 1984: David drops out of Harvard again – back on drugs
Early March 1984: Spends 10 days in California.
March 19: Enters St. Mary’s (now Fairview Southdale Hospital), a drug rehab facility in Minnesota.
April 19: leaves St. Mary’s and flies down to Palm Beach, Florida for Easter.
April 25: Dies in room 107 of the Brazilian Court Hotel from an overdose of Cocaine, Demerol and Mellaril.
April 27: Buried in the family plot of Holyhood Cemetery, Brookline, MA.
PHOTO: David A Kennedy

http://www.davidanthonykennedy.com/essays/

I watched a bit of the News show 20/20 and a favorite film called "A Touch Of Class", starring Glenda Jackson and George Seagal. I love the ending tune from that movie.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OT5gMGxQBJk