The Property Manager and the cab driver.

Beyond everything else 'Sally' and I did, we did come up with with one realistic and promising idea: we took a couple of classes in property management as suggested by our landlord on Las Palmas in Hollywood. We appeared as a promising and handsome young couple. People still wanted to help this attractive, young couple with the whole-of-life ahead of them. I was obliviously 'psyched.' But the dying psychic who told me what I didn't want to hear.... knew better. The Susanna Foster Chronicles-Phantom of the Heart: Tarzan....and a dying psychic.

Our first property management job was our landlord's building. Sally collected rents, I unplugged toilets, drove a taxi and sang every chance I got.

Soon, things would disappear in our tenant's apartments.....the mother of my kid was at it again.

And soon, very soon we would hold three successive property manager jobs within that year....losing each one to 'missing property.'

Denial was my cuddly, constant companion.

Some taxi stories and the final sad coup de grâce of property-mis-management implosion to follow.

My brother Philip and my son in our Xmas Las Palmas apartment, about 1980.

I will copy and paste....what I tried to remember and write, several years ago, albeit... thankfully abridged.