Michael Joe Armijo's Blog, page 85

A 'Dear Jane' Letter

BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY’s is set in New York in the 1940s.

I suspect that much of its charm comes from something left half-said: it’s the story of a romantic friendship between a straight woman and a gay man. Since their affection cannot end in sex or marriage, the two must explore other, less obvious ways to be intimate. They can have romance but must remain pure, the modern equivalent of courtly love.
-Christopher Bram
THE GAY WRITERS WHO CHANGED AMERICA
“EMINENT OUTLAWS”

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 10, 1987
Sunday

It was a lazy Sunday all the way around. Well, not really. I did go bike riding this morning but my baby toe on my left foot had a blister from yesterday’s jog. It was painful so I cut my bike ride short. I started watching parts of BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY’s which happened to be on TV.

I went to mom and dad’s house and dad had a tizzy because I parked across the street (in front of the Tawasha neighbor’s house). It’s a public street and there’s no reason why I couldn’t park there. Dad wanted me to move my car. I moved it all right. I put turned the key, started the car and drove back home. I just left.

PHOTO: During Ashley’s Birthday Party
Tony, Helen and Lauren
My sister-in-law, Helen, and my niece, Lauren stopped by at my house to see me. We ate Chinese food that Helen had brought. I decided to go back to mom and dad’s house after Helen’s power of persuasion.

A little later I tagged along with Helen, Sherri, mom, Ashley and Lauren to the ALAMEDA FLEA MARKET.

When I telephoned Eileen a bit later she had someone on the other line. She gave me lesser priority, asking me to call back later. I decided to write her a ‘DEAR JANE Letter’. It will all depend on her response to the letter.

I telephoned Rachelle and she turned the other foot.
“I’m sorry for being so rude the other night. I was going to call you back but my car conked out off of highway 580.”
I was surprised by her apology and said, “Oh don’t worry about it.”
“I still want to meet up. I’ll call you tomorrow because I’m curling my mom’s hair.”
I laughed, “Okay, sounds good.”

Mark called to ask, “Are we running the Bay to Breakers next Sunday?”
“I think that might work out.”
“I went to a Bruce Hornsby concert on Friday night.”
“Oh, so that’s what you’ve been up to.   He does that song called THE WAY IT IS, right?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t do anything spectacular on Saturday night.”
Mark got me all hyped-up about the Bay to Breakers run in the City. Mark’s a cool guy.
Mark announced, “Oh hey, I got my first issue of WIND SURFER Magazine that you subscribed for me! Thanks a lot.”
That was nice of him to thank me.  He didn’t have to--but it was nice that he did.

I started to watch the Sunday Night movie after mom and Ashley dropped me home. I found an old videotape that I thought I had erased that entertained me.

After my phone chat with Mark I went to bed. I felt a need to getaway. It works in one’s dreams easily. Yawn.

For Tourists, everything is possible; contradictions are minor inconveniences. Tourists, like children, believe the world is theirs.
-Olen Steinhauer
THE NEAREST EXIT, a novel

Ashley Is Three

“It’s funny about fate…You never know where you’ll end up.”
-as heard while watching the 2008 Japanese
Film “DEPARTURES”

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 9, 1987
Saturday

This morning I went for a jog to the end of the beach. Then I chose to walk back. I was feeling as though I needed to break myself in if I plan to do the BAY TO BREAKERS run next Sunday. It’s not for sure…but I may do the run.

Stewart Western called.
“I’m running tomorrow at Golden Gate Park.”
I almost felt like he was inviting me but he didn’t actually ask.
“Are you going to run the BAY TO BREAKERS?”
Stewart answered, “Oh no, I’ll be in Reno next weekend.”

I relaxed for a while and went to Ashley Marie’s Birthday party.   Ashley is three years old now (as of yesterday, the official day).

Last night I made rounds by going to MACY’s and getting mom a Mother’s Day gift of a cool umbrella and some eau de toilette de Paris perfume. Tony’s birthday is May 12th, so I bought him a belt and a lint brush (it’s what he wanted). I found Ashley a toy and an outfit.

I left Ashley’s party per my Grandma’s request to drive her home to Oakland.   Mom and Dad left early to go to mom's brothers' home in Castro Valley for his HouseWarming party.   I had mom take a picture of me, Dad and my brother, Tony.

When I returned to my house I just wanted to lounge. I rented HALF MOON STREET and THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GUNN.

Mom and Dad called me after they returned from Raymond’s (mom’s youngest brother) House Warming party. So I took the videotapes to their house and watched the movies with them.

HALF MOON STREET was another Sigourney Weaver film. She plays a doctor at some Institute in London who is frustrated by her job and begins moonlighting with an escort service to supplement her income.

THE JOURNEY OF NATTY GUNN takes place during the Depression years where a twelve year old girl is left behind in Chicago by her father to look for work in the timber industry. She runs away from her guardian in search of her father and befriends a wolf and hops a train and is presumed dead after the train crashes and her wallet is found.

January 5, 1994
In the book I am beginning it says that it is easier to remember bad things than happy ones, that happiness is the hardest thing to describe, and I believe this. When I want to think about happiness, I think about Ogunquit, Maine when I was a child, about playing in the sand in the dunes because then, at four, I was allowed to take off my bathing suit and enjoy the sun and the wind.
-May Sarton
At Eighty-Two, A Journal

Given Up

I shouted out, “SHIT!” And hobbled on, telling myself if you have to do something badly enough, you do it, even if you have a broken neck!
-James Kirkwood
GOOD TIMES BAD TIMES, a novel

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 8, 1987
Friday

What can I say? Work was ‘as usual’.

I rented ALIEN and ALIENS for a double-whammy Sigourney Weaver night. I watched them all by my lonesome. It was a spine-tingling night alone. They were both great movies even if they were scary.

I saw Connie of the CSO-Customer Service Office while I was at WHEREHOUSE RECORDS, renting the movies.

Eileen did not answer her telephone.  I’ve about given up on the bitch!

He was officially heterosexual, but his dark secret was that he was attracted to men; since his divorce fifteen years ago he had been making his most private fantasies a reality.
-Stieg Larsson
THE GIRL WHO KICKED THE HORNET’S NEST

Help Me Rhonda

Vanilla Beans: The Spaniards called the bean vainilla (small sheath) from the Latin word ‘vagina’. The bean’s elongated shape, with a slit at the top, must have reminded the lonesome Spaniards of what they were missing.


To make real vanilla extract: Split a vanilla bean lengthwise, set in a glass jar, cover with ¾ cup vodka. Cover and let steep for at least six weeks. As you use the extract, add more vodka, the bean will stay redolent and continue oozing flavor for some time. Add a teaspoon of vanilla extract to French toast batter to transmogrify it into the New Orleans version called “lost bread”. Vanilla sugar tastes wonderful in coffee. Split one vanilla bean from top to bottom and cut into pieces, mix with two cups of sugar, cover, let stand for six weeks. The longer the vanilla stands, the more intense the flavor.
-Diane Ackerman
A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE SENSES

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 7, 1987
Thursday

I haven’t heard from Rachelle.

Freddie called me last night.
She said, “You know, Mike…my neck strain contributes to my bad memory. That’s my excuse as to why Steve says that I’m slower than the rest of us in our office.”
“I wonder if there’s something you can do to ease the strain.”“Yeah, not go to work.”
I laughed.

I came home and slept until six o’clock. I phoned Chris to see if he was coming over as planned. He came.

I jumped rope and did a touch of aerobics while I was waiting for his arrival. I really need to go ‘all out’ with my exercising and weight lifting now that summer is around the corner.

Chris and I went to WHEREHOUSE RECORDS. We had trouble deciding what movie to rent because of the wide selection. We chose STEPHEN KING’s two SHORT STORIES which were stupid. We went to sleep after watching them.

Chris is really a nice guy. He may accompany me to London this coming November. I still may ask Eileen if she may want to go with me (if she can get the time off).

Eileen called me at 11:30PM from CITY NIGHTS. We discussed the idea of going to Santa Cruz this Sunday.  I miss her company.  The idea of lying on a beach next to her is appealing.  I haven’t seen her since last Friday. She’s special. I believe that when I was with her and the song HELP ME RHONDA played at Caruzzi’s it was a signal about us. It was ten years ago that Elisa, my high-school pal, and I were playing the OUIJA Board and it pointed out that I would marry someone named RHONDA.

Your own mental telepathy is real.
-Michael J Armijo
PHILOSOPHICAL STATEMENTS

Craving Chocolate

“My only talent was NOT to close my eyes.”
-as heard by Colin Clark in the 2011 film
MY WEEK WITH MARILYN

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 6, 1987
Wednesday

It was an amazingly beautiful day today. It feels like an early summer. I tried parking near this park ‘for free’. It was suggested by my coworker, Rhoda. I hope her advice works out.

Carla and I ate outside. We did a quick take-out from our company cafeteria. The management was at an all day meeting. I love it when they’re gone. It’s not that I do less work but there seems to be less pressure.

I left the office at 4PM and went home to lift my thirty pound barbells. I bicycled until 6PM when I returned home to a call from my sister-in-law, Sherri.
“Mike, I have to go out to order Ashley’s birthday cake. Do you think you can come over to watch Ashley for a while?”
“Sure, I’ll be right there.”

It was fun watching Ashley. Sherri returned soon enough and I ended up eating dinner with them. I never made it to the gym. Oh well…all in due time. I’m not that far gone yet. I am well aware of what I must do to get more fit; however, I was craving chocolate.

In 1982, two psycho-pharmacologists, Dr. Michael Liebowitz and Dr. Donald Klein, proposed an explanation for why lovesick people pig out on chocolate.
They speculated that the phenomenon might well be related to the brain chemical phenyl ethylamine (PEA), which makes us feel the roller coaster of passion we associate with falling in love, an amphetamine-like rush. But when the rush ends, and the brains stops producing PEA, we continue to crave its natural high, its emotional speed. Where can one find lots of this luscious, love-arousing PEA?  In chocolate.   So it’s possible that some people eat chocolate because it reproduces the sense of well-being we enjoy when we’re in love.
-Diane Ackerman
A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE SENSES

She Is Wild

Where there’s a will…there’s a way.
-Michael J Armijo
PHILOSOPHICAL STATEMENTS

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 5, 1987
Tuesday

It’s CINCO DE MAYO today but there was no mention of it at the office today. In fact, I saw no sign of it at all in San Francisco. I guess if I had visited a Mexican Restaurant it would have been more apparent.

I worked the 8AM to 4PM shift today. I really worked hard today. The phone rang non-stop.

At lunch I ordered from THE PIZZA BOAT ‘to-go’. I only had a half hour lunch so time was limited.
I telephoned mom and she mentioned a movie she wanted to see this Sunday night called QUEENIE. It airs on ABC this Sunday night and is about some beauty who emigrates from India to Great Britain to pursue fame and fortune at the cost of personal happiness while becoming a major Hollywood movie-star. I read that it’s based on the life of Merle Oberon (whoever that may be).

Carla seems so wild lately. I wonder if it’s all a front.  No, she IS wild.

I gave Eileen a call but there was no answer. It seems that ever since she got her own car I rarely hear from her.

I did phone Rachelle and she asked her usual question: “Could you call back in fifteen minutes?”
I didn’t bother to call back. I figured, “Hell, why should I?”

I did call Jeff Sombat in Honolulu to let him know that the 4th of the July would be the day that I return to Hawaii. I also spoke to Carla briefly. They’re both so friendly. I wonder if I should live in Hawaii.

I rode my bike and my chain derailing mechanism seems to have a slight recurring click problem. I hate that! I just went with it and continued my ride anyway. The beach was crowded. Perhaps that was the Cinco de Mayo ‘party’ indication
I telephoned Chris Cordellos but he wasn’t at home.
I watched a sit-com or tow and showered before watching MOONLIGHTING.
I went to bed, feeling fat. I know running or more visits to the gym (and more aerobics) would help but the recent heat is putting a drag on me. I must pick myself up soon.
I’ve got to call Lynne, my travel agent about this forthcoming Hawaii trip and my idea for plans to London.
“We’re living in a world of rules, breaking us down when they all should let us be…”-HOW DEEP IS YOUR LOVE song by The Bee Gees

Extraordinarily Affectionate

Music seems to produce specific emotional states that all people share, and as a result, it allows us to communicate our most intimate emotions without having to talk about or define them in a loose net of words.

Our pupils dilate and our endorphin level rises when we sing; music engages the whole body, as well as the brain, and there is a healing quality to it.
-Diane Ackerman
A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE SENSES

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 4, 1987
Monday

Carla did return to work today. She was very tan but she still looked rather tired.
I realized why when she said, “Oh Michael, I stayed out until three o’clock in the morning last night!”
“You’re too much!”
She laughed aloud.

Carla ditched me and took an early lunch. I ended up going to the cafeteria alone. I ordered a sandwich and returned upstairs. What a fool. It was such a beautiful day but I didn’t feel like walking around all by my lonesome.
I did get my seniority bridged today. My new NCS (Net Credited Service) date is now December 8, 1979. Hurrah. I also chose an additional week of vacation time. I selected another week in November for a total of three consecutive weeks at that time period. I intend on going to London during that time frame.

Work was a breeze today.  Our new person started working in the office today.  Her name is Louise Long. She’s black, big and wants to work the 8AM to 4PM shift. She and Vivian Adams will have that shift. Louise has a lot of seniority because she has worked at Pacific Bell for some time. I suppose I will have to remain with my 8AM to 4:30PM shift for the time being. It’s just as well.

I arrived home; feeling like a nap was in order when Chris Cordellos called me.
Chris asked, “Why don’t you come on over?”
“Well, I was going to go to the gym.”
“So…when do you want to get together?”
I asked, “How about Thursday?”
And so, he may come by to Alameda on Thursday and we may go see a flick.

Rachelle Davies called.
“I got word that you rode your bike over here last Saturday.”
“Yeah, I stopped by to see if you were home. I’m off to the gym now.”
“You are?”
“Yeah, so how about if I call you tomorrow and maybe we can meet up at the gym on Wednesday if you’re up for it.”
“Okay…and I may like to attend Ashley’s birthday party on Saturday, too.”
“That would be fun,” I answered without revealing my surprise.
I asked, “How are things going with you and Tommy?”
Tommy is supposedly her current beau.
Rachelle said, “Well, he’s not real affectionate…like you were.”
“No?”
“And he doesn’t talk much, so I wouldn’t say we’re the greatest friends.”
I thought this was complimentary for me. Did this mean I was extraordinarily affectionate when we were a solid item? And do I talk a lot? And were we great friends because of my being a chatter-box?

I drove to the gym listening to WITH OUR WITHOUT YOU by U2 as I thought about all that Rachelle had said.

I saw Dave Trapp, Russ and Angela while at the gym. I did my thing.
Kathy asked, “Have you seen Mark lately?”
I lied, “No.”

When I returned home I called Mark to tease him about the fact that Kathy is lusting after him.

I also called Fredericka and learned from her that DELTA Airlines has a cheap fare of $458 (round-trip) from San Francisco to Honolulu that departs on the 4th of July and returns on 7-11 (a sign of good luck). Should I go?

I watched Lucie Arnaz who appeared on JOAN RIVERS as a guest on THE TONIGHT SHOW. Then I went to bed.

I keep dwelling on the “FIRE” I shared with Rachelle. That is the perfect word to describe our relationship. Now I wonder if Eileen and I will ever have that “FIRE”. And for that matter…will Rachelle and I ever have it again?

“We can’t go back!”
-as heard in the 2011 motion-picture THE DEBT

A Victim of Circumstance

Our senses connect us intimately to the past, connect us in ways that most of our cherished ideas never could.
-Diane Ackerman
A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE SENSES

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 3, 1987
Sunday

Chris Cordellos telephoned this morning. It was an odd phone call.
Chris asked, “So…where were you last night?”
It was as if I owed him an explanation.
I answered him though.
“I was at my ma and pa’s.”
“Oh,” he said with a tinge of wonder in his voice.
And what if I was out on a date anyway?  Was there a rekindling between us that I wasn’t aware of?

Jeff telephoned from Hawaii with a few revelations of his own.
“You won’t believe what happened.”
“What?” I asked.
“Well, Carla caught her boyfriend on top of me.”
“You’re kidding me?”
“No.”
Was Jeff preparing me for a phone call from Carla about this confrontation? I didn’t know what to say. Whatever it was he felt a need to share the scoop. I simply reassured him.
“Look,” I said, “You were just a victim of circumstance.”

It was a Sunday and I decided to go to visit mom. It’s her day off and I needed some ‘mom time’. My niece, Lauren, was there and I gave her e a few chocolate covered graham crackers.

I fell asleep at mom’s house when Sherri and Ashley stopped by. I woke up and stuck around until around nine o’clock. I kept myself occupied during the last couple of hours by watching “THE POLICE STORY: Freeway Killings”.

I was soon in bed when I decided to give Ted Charach a call. He’s the Robert F Kennedy documentary writer/producer character. It was a mistake to call him. It’s clear he is just obsessed with young boys and a bit of a sex fiend. I didn’t like his conversational innuendo.

I telephoned Johnny Schaefer to discuss some of the weekend experiences.  He simply listened.

I went to bed.  Carla returns to work tomorrow.  I’m glad.  I need her lively personality.  I need to wake up.

To understand, we have to “use our heads,” meaning our minds. Most people think of the mind as being located in the head, but the latest findings in physiology suggest that the mind doesn’t really dwell in the brain but travels the whole body on caravans of hormone and enzyme, busily making sense of the compound wonders we catalogue as touch, taste, smell, hearing, vision.
-Diane Ackerman
A NATURAL HISTORY OF THE SENSES

SPECIAL F/X

Things really do work out, if you give them time.
-Christopher Bram
SURPRISING MYSELF, a novel

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 2, 1987
Saturday

I woke up and hit mom’s house for CAPTAIN CRUNCH cereal.  I love the 'crunch' and it was just the fuel I needed on this Saturday morning.

I decided on going on an extended bike ride to Alamo (near Danville). I stopped in on Danny Garcia’s salon. He was cutting someone’s hair at the time. He managed to make some time to trim mine since Chris Cordellos never gave me the haircut that he’d promised. What a nice fellow Danny can be.

I left Alamo at 3:40PM and made it back to Alameda by 5:25PM. I was beat tired because I had to ride against the wind.

I rented a couple of movies: “F/X” and “52 PICK UP”. I took the movies with me to mom and dad’s house and I watched both movies with them.

“F/X” was an action crime thriller about a movie SPECIAL EFFECTS man who is hired to fake a real-life mob killing for a witness protection plan, but ends up finding his own life in danger. I really liked it.

“52 PICK UP” starred Ann-Margret and Roy Scheider. This one centered on a ‘secret fling’ between a man and his mistress that leads to blackmail and murder. And so, we had a fun time watching these dramatic stories.

We were treated like royalty.
-D.M. Thomas
THE WHITE HOTEL

American Graffiti

“We’re not turning into a couple of comfortable old shoes are we?”
-MANHATTAN MURDER MYSTERY
A Woody Allen film

Twenty-five years ago today:

May 1, 1987
Friday

Last night, I said to Eileen, “You know, Rodney is anxious to meet you.”

She now knows that Rodney is the nickname for my ‘you know what’. I made a sly explanation of who Rodney was (my cock) as she was so curious.

My boss, Steve, made a comment about Carla returning to work on Monday. That was good news.

I tried to nap after work when Chris Cordellos telephoned. I invited him over and we talked over dinner at MEXICALI ROSE on Webster Street in Alameda. We discussed past and current events. He’s a nice “friend”.

Chris Cordellos wrote in my HOUSE BOOK:

Dear Mike,
Well, I'm running late, so I have to make this short.   I was here before but I didn't write down anything.   Sorry!   I can't wait for our London trip.   I'm really glad to be your friend.
Chris

Chris and I parted ways and I drove to Hillsborough to see Eileen. I drove through El Camino Real ‘main drag’ with her. It’s where all of these cars are cruising along (including low rider cars). It was rather silly and so ‘high-school’. I could tell that Eileen got a slight thrill from it all. Her eyes were elsewhere (checking out other guys in their hot rods). The good part is that her eyes were mostly on me though (most of the time). I felt like I was in a scene from AMERICAN GRAFFITI. We stopped at CARRUZZI’s for coffee and ice-cream. We cut the night short and I went home.

This Sunday she has plans to “beach it” with her sister, so our Santa Cruz idea will have to be rescheduled for another time.

If you’ve got something important to get across, you have to gather not just the appropriate words, but also your emotions.
-John Rolfe Gardiner
SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE, a novel