At 26 I was transplanted back to Europe, but not as I knew it. A hotel in Belgium with Andy and Gavin and her younger sister Jess just outside the main gates of SHAPE (supreme headquarters allied powers Europe)… having whereabouts knowledge I quickly began to assimilate. Our biggest obstacle was the understanding that it took at least 2-5 months to find a place to live so we knew then that we would be living in a hotel for an extended stay.
At 27 I was reaching out to Monet, Renoir, Peter Paul Rubens, Gogh, Caravaggio, Titian, van Dyck, Jordans, Pieter Brueghel the elder who avoided Italian influence. At 27 I was reading the collected works of Billy the Kid, Will Self’s my idea of fun, trembling in Oblivion while driving my car on the wrong side of the street over and over again, night after night just for fun to see what would happen.
At 27 I was the youngest ever GS12 in the armed forces Europe, Child and youth service director. I was not good at golf, nor never will be.
For me to get to know you better, there is something I should let you know, to me you are just another person.
At 39 banging my way around New Orleans. Until food looks good and all the hearts are empty… I am sorry but I am not this, I am not you. This is not a frat party. In my world the drinks are better, the people with their stretch legs and expandable minds, the cooking to cook-wine selection. The way the lips move and the Wittgenstein Logic keeps you coming back for more and more. As it should.
At 28 the most beautiful women I had ever seen at this time, sort of a Julie Roberts blond mix, gave me 50 dollars as I was working on the weekend at commissary for tips. Most of the commissar workers work for only tips and the tips pay well and it is I great source of extra income… I don’t know what happened next with all the smiles and stuff. She called me somehow and Andy was out of town and Gavin was sick with medicine. She showed up at the house. Kissing and kissing loving and loving, a small faint smell of cat in the air.
At 28 Fazia this young Turkish sort of Kate Winslet look alike almond eyed, never did this before, sort tried. Driving all the way home with the heat on max to sweat and push away the smell of her.
At 29 hanging out at the football matches in Liege, 4 young men walking by me talking to a woman I didn’t know at the time and making young male sexual gestures. Me ignoring it at the time, getting into my car parked 100 yards away, driving the car backwards out of curiosity into the direction of these young males, until my heart was contempt.
Slowly becoming everything I wanted to be
At 30 completely lost, skiing to make sense and driving down to Chriss and Tiffs. Crushed like. Something about Omaha steaks, a stainless Steele table, Tivo, xbox blades, Wilco, Colby, one more time when you mess with me.
January 12th 2014… surveying the land… I am the king of your eyes when you get talking in all the wrong places. But even when you turn, I will be there, pull up your skirt I will be there.
There is nothing you have on me, and there I am nothing without you.
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