This picture brought up all sorts of emotions. it was half a lifetime ago, but I’m not sure I ever truly got over–not him–but the relationship. It wasn’t picture-perfect

My sister asked if he was the love of my life. I had to think which means he probably wasn’t but I don’t know who was.

In dreams I’m 30 again but live alone or with somebody not him. Somebody who thinks the best is yet to come. Somebody who wants to grab life and shout “I’m here! I’m young and willing to do whatever it takes to make it.”

In dreams I’m not worshiped but loved for who I am. Imperfections and all. In dreams the boy is more stable than I am, and understands that my work is important to me. That my tantrums are truly meaningless–and hell, if he wasn’t so miserable would I have been?

In dreams the boy is as funny or funnier than he was and definitely as funny or funnier than I could be. In dreams he could check my sarcasm at the door. I’m so embarrassed when I remember how sarcastic I was an how much people loved that trait.

In dreams I do my 20′s and 30′s over. I loved them so much but see all the mistakes I made now. I wish we had second chances but we only have the present and hopefully the future.

In dreams I wasn’t perfect; I was me but whoever the guy was he loved me anyway.
•••••••••••••••••

Jeffrey is the person I called Zachary. We met at that bar–Folk City’s–not that day–I know from my clothes. Jeff Ampolsk–that was his name, only I called him Jeffrey–will go down in “history” for telling his friend Lucinda Williams to submit a demo to Moses Asch of Folkways. I found a tape of traditional songs Lucinda made in 1978. I don’t have a tape player and have never been sure what to do with it. Jeffrey lives on in the Smithsonian Folkways collection. It makes me laugh to think I had a boyfriend who ended up somewhat akin to Archie Bunker’s chair–it too is in the Smithsonian–always my favorite museum(s).

He had two albums out, on Folkways before he was 25. At 27 he thought he was a failure. I was always trying to pull him up. To make him understand that we had a long life ahead of us. In many ways I’m the eternal optomist who believes so, or too, hard in tomorrow. I couldn’t make him see joy in life, and stopped trying.
I wish we had known what our problems were. I suspected what his were. He refused to believe he had any. I’m sure he knew under the bravado. Once he made me apply for a MacArthur Award for him. I was totally embarrassed but…He thought the world owed him much so I worked to support us. Then I woke up….
There’s much more but I sound like such a damn shrew. And there was so much wonderful about him but it’s so hard to remember the good because forever after I couldn’t love with the same innocence or joy. And there was a time I loved him very much and our life was filled with happiness.

That’s it. Photos in a few days.
Two Iranian Christian bloggers are missing. As I’m four fifths on an incredible natural high, one fifth scared I left the townhouse not perfect and three fifths crazed by the money I have been spending when I should be saving, truly horrible things are happening. I know my math was off; it’s just the way I feel
This is a photo of me and the boyfriend I call well lots of things. If it doesn’t link properly I will have it later.

We’re in Folk City in the late 70′s. I met Jeffrey (his real name) when one of the soon to be new owners of Folk City, Robbie Woliver told me I had to come back the next day to see a girl who was better than incredible. My friend Helena and I had stopped by after dinner at Panchito’s a greasy horrible cheap Mexican restaurant that was very beautiful (I think) and everybody loved though if you didn’t eat your food in two minutes it congealed. Most people really went for the endless chips, dips and frozen Margaritas.

People liked hanging with me because well I hope they enjoyed me and I had contacts at all pivotal clubs in Manhattan. It was strange. I even knew Marc the doorman at Studio.

Helena lectured me because I was working twelve to fourteen hour days six days a week. I had recently been promoted to supervisor in a computerized litigation company and loved my job. But Helena was right. I realized the next day I wanted a boyfriend and set out to get me one. I have written in depth about the walk from 63rd & Fifth to the Village. How I stopped at Macys and bought new clothes–as it turned out it wslucky for me I didn’t have to go to work in the same clothes.

Yes those were the days I would think “I want a boyfriend” and despite my extreme shyness one would appear. The same thing happened with weight. “I want to lose 20 pounds,” and I would. Now–well I really try with the weight thing and it’s more manageable but the other thing….If you don’t try….and sadly I didn’t have to learn the skills.

The girl was Lucinda Williams. She and Jeff were friends from New Orleans and he suggested she send Moses Ash of Folkways a demo tape. Jeff had a recording contract with them. She didn’t become real famous for another decade at least but Rob was right; she blew the audience away. It was a star studded audience; filled with recording artists, producers, reviewers. I was in music groupie heaven. Problem was I could never be an actual groupie type. I was more the girlfriend type. I was shy. Robbie would come over and tell me that so and so wanted to meet me–he would come over constantly. I would smile demurely. Sometimes I want to hit the girl I was and tell her–all you had to do was smile at the guy–not Robbie. I always said I had to be hit over the head.

Jeff was the only one who came over and told me a bad joke. I’m a total sucker for bad Polish jokes. It was the 70′s and Jeff and I moved in together two days later. I plead the 70′s defense.
The thing was Jeffrey was sexy. Real sexy for the time. I felt as if I had been hit over the head by–I’m not sure I can describe the feeling. All my girlfriends were impressed. Very impressed. All my male friends disliked but tolerated him.

Jeff was the only one who came over and told me a bad joke. I’m a total sucker for bad Polish jokes. It was the 70′s and Jeff and I moved in together two days later. I plead the 70′s defense.

I have written a lot about Jeffrey. I did love him. For about six months he made me happier than I could imagine being. I think I did the same to him. I really didn’t mean to write this much.

This post was written under the influence of “I bought a house, sweated the renovation, and paid for everything, and wow, my life is becoming exciting once more. Only this time I’m in charge.”