Drama: Not Just For The Stage

I avoid drama.

But, my favorite playwright, Mr. Shakespeare said, "All the world is a stage and we are but players..."

Good Lord...

Playas...

If I look hard enough, maybe in Merchant of Venice, I'll find reference to the word "pimps" too...

Well, let me set the stage...

I grew up in Brooklyn, New York.
Yes, "The" Brooklyn.

In a time before pop-culture introduced rap from the inner city to 'mainstream' America.

I knew of it, rap and inner citylife, but was not part of it. I wasan observer; a journalist as I have grown to become for the world's finest Navy.

In the day, I was teased in my 'hood' for sleeping on books and being 'square.' But as a friend told me, as a square, at least I know my sides are equal. Not such a bad thing.

I studied theater with the late Raul Julia.
I remember the NYC blackout - at a rehearsal - when I got a new pair of sneakers from 'Pancho,' the theater director who said I pimped him for them when I had been an unpaid theater hand and actor. My off-Broadway actor brother acted for him and had introduced me to theater in NYC. He Wandered the world acting...

Now, a score and a decade later, here I am, in Sacramento trying to reunite with my son, Matthew - who just turned ten in May of this year - that I find out that my ex-wife, Glenda Darlene Goodwin, Md., is living with her boyfriend. My son is there in her house with her live-in boyfriend.

I called tonight and spoke with my son - it was like connecting with life itself to me. It was like breathing, it was like laying on your back and looking at the stars...
Speaking with him is the definition of Zen.
To me.

During our conversation, my son told me that his mother, Glenda Darlene Goodwin, the medical doctor who had to lie to me to impregnate her, had a new boyfriend who was living with them.
What? I thought.

This is the same woman who wouldn't date me in Hawai'i if I didn't attend church.
I attended church. I'd been an altar boy, a choir boy.
No problem.
This is the same woman who said to me, "If you don't want to be involved with the baby, it's okay."
I had never heard anything like that. I thought it was absurd.
Man, was I out of another time. Man, was I out of touch.

I got out of the world's finest Navy to build a family with her.

I was such a fool.
I thought so much better of her.
I thought so much more of her. I was so, very wrong.

Today, a Tuesday in California (Jee-zuhs!) I spoke with my son and he told me my medical doctor ex-wife was living with her boyfriend.

I repeat, my ex-wife, who didn't want her child to be a bastard, and asked me to marry her - and I obliged, because I too didn't want my first born to be a bastard (me at 36 years of age, her 28) - so I did.

Get this; 36, single, hetero, in the navy and having the time of my life, heading for Japan, meet an Oakland native and, more importantly, doctor in residency ...

Who cares. That was years ago.
Truly th ebest of times and the worst of times.

Today, I spoke with MY son and asked if he was being treated well by his... Live in boyfriend... Uh... Tony... A man who this is the FIRST time I am hearing about.
A man I never heard of? A man she neglected to tell me was living with them for the last two years.

I asked my son if he treated him well. He said yes. I asked my son, if he ever hit him, he said, no. Then Tony interrupted my conversation with my son, and told me that if I wanted to know whatever about him, I needed to ask him.

SIDE BAR: Why was this Cretin listening to my 10-year-old son and my conversation?
How dare he...

I told him to put my son back on the line.
He refused, saying I wouldn't speak with him tonight, if he had anything to do with it. Said, I knew where they lived at 8156 Polo Crosse Ave., Sacramento, California 95828, and that if I wanted to ask him questions, I knew where he was and that I shoulkd come to thier front door.

Hmmm.

I hung up and called the Sherriff.
They reported back to me later MAX was okay.
HOW CAN I POSSIBLY FEEL COMFORTABLE WITH THAT?

He took the phone from my son and questioned me as to who I thought I was grilling my son about who he was.
The bastard said that if I wanted to know who he was I should ask him and not grill a little kid.

Little kid?
The little man happens to be MY SON!

And as I told her last live in, don't get between me and my son. Not a good choice.

After I told him I can ask my son whatever I want, he ranted on about something or other. It sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher.

I told him to let me speak with my son and he said, "No."

So, to reiterate. I called the Sherriff's office and had them pay him a health and welfare visit.

I left a message with Glenda Darlene Goodwin of Trinity Medical care or something like that - no answer.

My, my, my...

Drama?

God has been preparing me for this battle since before I was a teenager...

Game on...

Jehovah Jirah!!!

Breast plate of Faith and Love...
Helmet ofd Hope...

Let's Rock...