SGFE--It's Beautiful, Man

This is eleven. There’s a new steel guitar book on the Market! It’s called Hal Leonard’s Lap Steel Guitar Method. I’m sinking all my hopes into it, even tho I ain’t seen it yet. That way I’d be off the hook of trying to provide you a substitute. I asked my mom to order it when she goes to Barnes and Noble next.
My legs and arms sometimes feel numb, like now. I have high cholesterol and wonder if that has anything to do with it. I get my healthcare through the VA hospital, and they have recently sent me cholesterol-lowering medicine. Mine is almost always around 250. I love fast food, cheese and everthing that is on that level of cuisine. I been eating a lot of Mexican fast food at Filiberto’s ‘cause I have so little time to eat and want to have eaten by the time I get home so I can have one beer before I go to bed. Also McDonald’s breakfasts have been being had by me.
Now I’m going to end this, pick it up next week and find some way to tie in this with that. I always do that.
I still get those pangs of not being w/ r.
There, I have already started the finish of this entry.

Last weekend I apartment sat for Steve, while he took his roommate to San Diego for a regatta. It was a nice weekend except for Saturday. That day I spent abt six hours looking at things I shouldn’t have. Oh well.
I’m terribly busy. But that’s good, I guess. I’m making money.
Everything I see reminds me of r. Maybe seeing parents w/ kids is the worst thing. But seeing any kid—even a teenager—makes me think of Ricky and being with him and fathering him. I miss teaching him things and explaining things and sharing things. The only picture I display of him is one of him sleeping. After a long half day of playing and just being a kid and fighting for his candy or whatever it is he wants, he sometimes—hopefully—conks out. That’s why I like that picture—it represents a day with him, not just a moment—even though it may just be of a spoiled kid sleeping.

I don’t know if I’m going to be able to stay here w/o r. The Phoenix area—which I feel is my hometown, even though I was born in San Jose, CA—is great to live in. I like the relatively clean air. Most days in Poland are one big cloud. I like the food in the supermarkets and restaurants. The big ones are open all night and have almost every foodstuff or ingredient I could ever want and could not get in Poland. Did I tell you I’d discovered Thai food? And I love the dirty little taco shops which make me spend too much money, get late home from work and raise my cholesterol. I like the book stores. I like the New York Times. I like how everything here is carpeted, air conditioned, spacious, clean and well-lit. I like the prices, availability and service. I like being w/ my family and if it weren’t for their support of me splitting from V, I have no idea what I would do or where I would be. I like spending time w/ Steve, whether watching questionable TV at his apartment or hanging out in restaurants talking and sometimes reading, where they have a dollar menu, free drink refills and lots of free tables. I love the warm weather here: all of my minor ailments are doing better—my gastritis, my right foot arch problem, my tennis elbow, my arthritic wrist. I like my job. I love learning abt Hispanic culture, which most of my students represent. I like people watching on the train. In Poland people are regular and predictable and less outstanding. A grandma is a grandma. A college kid is a college kid. You know who she is and what she does in her free time. The Poles would say that’s unfair thing to say, because they are all different. True, but I am talking abt general tendencies here. I like the public transportation, which is where I people watch—it’s clean and the drivers are usually friendly talkative and helpful. I like everything here. I like the TV. I like NPR and listen a couple of hours per day.
But I am going back to Poland in Dec. for two weeks. I ain’t sure it’ll be enough, though. I wrote above abt the things I miss connected w/ r and fathering him. Those bite me several times a day. I hain’t bought my return ticket yet and Mom says I should. I have a ticket to Poland, which is the return part of my journey here, but I am just now getting ahead on money.
I don’t know if I want to be a high school teacher either; I don’t feel it in my bones. That don’t mean it is not the right thing to do, and I am going ahead w/ it. I just don’t know if I want to do it.

Now that I have written you abt how I feel and time has passed, I may be able to accept not moving back to Poland. What the fuck? Can I leave my kid alone? I mean can I leave him alone until he’s twelve, when we (or is it just I?) plan to move him to the States to live w/ me?
I just listened to some recordings of him on my phone. Here is a transcript:

Me: Say it.
R: Eh, A eye on your head!
Me: Can you say anything else for Uncle Steve?
R: Yeah
M: What?
R: You tell something him.
Me: Uh, mustard all over your face!
R: He didn’t hear you.
Me: (laughing) Well he’s gonna when I play it. Anything else? Say bye bye Uncle Steve.
R: Bye bye.
Me: See you next year maybe.
R: Unintelligible
Me: (as he grabs at the phone) Oh no no no.

Me: Go.
R: Ok.
Me: Say it.
R: A refridgerator on your head! He didn’t hear me.
Me: Well, I have to play it for him later.


Me: Ok say sth
R: Wheels
Me: What else you gonna say?
R: eh…
Me: How about Now I lay me…
R: Now I lay me…
Me: down to sleep…
R: down to sleep house…
Me: I pray the Lord…
R: I pray the Lord house…
Me: My soul to keep.
R: My soul to keep house.
Me: Jesus watch me through the night.
R: Jesus watch me through the night balcony.
Me: And wake me with the morning light.
R: And wake me with the morning light house.

I used to pray w/ r every night that I could. Most nights it was a joke w/ him, like above when he would add a word, usually “house” to every line. But every third or fourth night, he would pray sth serious. That was beautiful.