My Chestnut Jewel.......and self-will run riot.

In 1983 my father sends a cassette-compilation of his music.
The final number on the B-side was his Easter Sunday 1944 NBC Radio-Philco Hall of Fame performance of Malotte’s “The Lord’s Prayer” with The Paul Whiteman Orchestra. Emotion still wells when hearing this piece, beautiful. First time that I heard much of his music in one. collection. First time I was truly ‘awakened’ to my father’s talents. Proud of this cassette, proud of anything I guess.

Sally informs me that she’s **pregnant; “WHAT! How could that be, you promised me that…”

All remaining demons were let out of their holding pen. I raged, ”How could we ‘afford’ another kid?” Immediately began to plot my escape. Matter-of-fact there was no plot. I moved out. Leaving a pregnant Sally and Eric, like a dazed, steroid-dripping racehorse out of the box, I bolted to New York City.

**Brittney June Evans is now twenty five….and miraculously has become my incredible, loving, beautiful singing ‘Chestnut Jewel.’ Marrying her high school sweetheart on Sept 18, 2009. Thank God the Universe had ‘other’ plans.

Philip has now returned to California. I move in with Jimmy (Philip's NYC voodoo enabler), stayed on his couch. Despite his suspected incantations, I stayed on his couch. Oh, he flat out asked me once if I’d like to sleep with him, I declined. Stayed as far away as I could from his bedroom. It stunk from incantation.

Just walking the sidewalks again was a thrill. The love of New York City and its one-of-kind energy never left me. L.A? Phooey.

My demons were in full slam dance and I knew it, sought comfort in any 'benign' way to cover my huge chronic angst.ever enlarging tortured soul..... hoping to keep me even (and legal ?). Then set out to re-book my shadow, my artist’s shadow. Got a job in the mail room of a dying Studio 54. Entertained free cocaine, a lonely lady and some mindless well-heeled disco lights. Hated it.

Village Voice classifieds found me a job as a dispatcher for ‘Prop Trucks’ on 60^th St. and 10^th Avenue. A bicycle messenger/trucking service for the city-film business (Customer self-importance was sickening but even more sickening was my reliable Artist Shadow lap-licker) based in an old 20,000 sq ft taxi garage that doubled as their prop warehouse. Did pretty well, in the thick of it, ranting and raving… running my men to and fro’. Keen with drama and deadline.

Most of these galoots were on a carousel of pharmacopoeia, so it became that familiar match made in junkie heaven. ‘If you get me this job, I got some good…’ Whether it be the nose, lung or mouth it didn’t matter. Bartering Garbage Buckets of the Stupefied.

I would bus it back to Danbury to see my family every weekend. Giving Sally what money I could. I was stingy and confused with the passive/aggressive love/anger that percolated. She reported me MIA to welfare with my blessing so we could benefit with some ‘free money.’ The shameful, chronically malnourished ‘get over’ beast rears its ugly cancer-like head again and again. I became a ‘dead beat dad’ with not even knowing it. Would pay every cent back over 15 years.

I thought I loved Sally, simply wanted our family to ‘work out.’ How could it possibly, we had already gathered a hoard of closeted skeletons that caught and gouged on everything and she was pregnant? How could I accept this new child through all the, confusion, narcissism and whirling tit for tat betrayal? From early on, my life was racking conundrum. Ye old familiar. Good, efficient stimulant for Victim Hood.

My weekend Danbury visits carried on.

On October 21, 1983 Sally called me letting me know that I had a daughter ‘Brittney June Evans’

7lbs 8oz. Numb in more ways than one… was I.

Letter from Susanna to our confused little family-----

January 3, 1984

Dear Sally, Michael and Eric! And Brittney!

How I wish I could have sent Xmas things but it seems I’ve become accident-prone! Plus other events. First of all, before I go into my dilemmas & ailments a word about yours.

I can imagine the pain you are going thru Sally, and believe me I pray for you and your well-being. Our beautiful addition to our families! That Brittney! If I may be so conceited as to say she looks like me in her pictures when I was little (Except she is a brunette)!

That made me tickled even if it isn’t true, because I have a very strong feeling she is going to be herself, just as I always wanted to be (you’ve seen where it’s gotten me!).

But we all have to get there somehow eventually so why not try to be yourself.

My arm was fractured by a maniac at the corner who wanted to use the phone (A big she). And said “Bitch get off the phone,” and twisted my wrist (of course I wouldn’t let go I have something in me) & I heard it snap (forearm). I had been calling the attorney because we had to make a settlement to get out of here (the guy has all the tricks for the Olympics) which we eventually made at the cost of my foot buckling for no reason at the attorney’s office which broke another bone (fell down three steps), then two days later the oven and broiler got on fire and I’m not afraid of fire but the rug caught too, and when I was smothering it I was stepping in it and burned my foot severely and was laid up for a week! Mamma Mia! We are moving too. Finally found a place. –I made a settlement that paid for me being driven around (by Chuck) for $100 etc. I made the owner pay for the moving, the first, last, cleaning and deposit on the dog. I did a pretty good job for an invalid but if you think Sam appreciates it, your dreaming! Al l free money and he’s so cheap. Also $50 for Ricky and Joey to move us—plus Philip and Sam moved for’ free.’ Beer free for all when it’s all over. Please Michael, after all that’s happened, please tell Philip he mustn’t take advantage of me.

As soon as we are settled—we have good sized rooms, large living room, dining room, big kitchen, bathroom, bedroom (SAM!) and linen closet. Balcony for all my plants (I’m growing tomatoes—wild man!!) Chica loves the balcony and decent neighborhood, near everything, $375 a month plus utilities, AND we’re getting a phone put in Friday. Laundry at the foot of the stairs.

NOW!! I’ve thought and thought as to what to get Eric (it will be his birthday and Xmas). I don’t go for these video, electronic toys unless it helps them in math and reading. Please write and tell me what he has. AND Brittney!! Did you know that I was going to write you and suggest the name I was going to name Michael had he been a girl, it was ‘Bronwyn’ from the book ‘How Green Was My Valley’—it’s a Welsh name. I loved the book and the film. And then you named her a name that began with BR! I, (of course) never got off the letter. But she’s so adorable, a doll. A big baby for a little one like you, Sally. I think her name is beautiful and different and Eric! How he’s going to take car of her!

Now has she been gifted with a Cabbage-Patch doll? I know you live in Conn., near Coleco. Please write me. I don’t want to send clothes unless I can afford to do so during the year. I’ve been very ill lately and Dr. Markanian wanted to hospitalize me last Friday because my palpitations were so severe (I was ready to jump off a building) But I’m on a diet and intend to get a bike and work at something. Please write. It’s the end now. Love Susanna

Letter from my father-----

22 Aug 84 save this letter!! Phone number important!!

My Dear Michael David and his love Sally---

I am now 79 yrs and “the days grow short when you reach September.”

This past week I have been updating my will and am sending my instructions to you while I am able!

First: You must come down here to see me and tell you what I want you to have—that is after Masako’s passing! We must be very careful in our talks before Masako—She is a strong-headed lady and arguments will not accomplish anything positive! However I do not want anything of value to me and you to end up in Japan! Where no one knows or cares about it! All my publicity books, pictures and my favorite library books—and cassettes!! I would have like hearing from you on that cassette that I sent you months ago! To busy to listen!!

Second: How to get here;--NJ Turnpike south to Exit 2—off and drive to Mullica Hill about 7 miles—when you come to Route 45 turn right (south) and thru the small village (2to3 miles)—

Do you remember Aunt Ethel Evans—my brother’s wife? Well she was on a cruise to Africa—had a heart attack—finally got back to her (old folks) apartment and died on May 9—she left a small amount of money to Masako and me—not enough to buy a new car!! I want you to have whatever is left. I have planned to have my attorney:

Edgar Hathaway Jr. ESQ.

13 No. Main Street

Elmer, New Jersey 08318 (###) ###-####

To call you—inform you to come down here—he has a key to our house and will let you enter—in case Masako and I go off together! Advise you to rent a truck to take all this furniture etc with you!! Mr. Hathaway will help you in any way you ask. Hope your job is still secure!!

We send our big love to Eric and BJ and you both, Dad.

In my ‘want to believe’ abnormalcy, this letter charged me up. I read it as, “I have money and things for you, come down and we will make it right.” I don’t rent a truck, I rent a car and the four of us head down to Mullica Hill, New Jersey on a Saturday afternoon. Wib’s first and last meeting with his grand kids. Toxic vibes from the ‘step mom’, phony smiles, Wib tripping over words. A short, strange visit, barely remembered. Probably the second or third time I had seen him in fifteen years. Wib did nickname Brittney “BJ.” Trip wasn’t in vain after all.

I would get nothing....and by the Universe's plan, would find and BUY everything on E-bay fifteen years after his death in 1987.