An infrequent series of essays about ex-girlfriends and boyfriends.
The best of times: Every day was a roller coaster bro ... back in those days people weren't in your business. If you drank too much and fought with your girlfriend in a crowded bar nobody was taking pictures of it with their phone and yelling stuff like "IMMA PUT THIS ON YOUTUBE!!!"
When it was good - it was REAL good. But when it was bad...
The worst of times: I once told Catherine that she was "one Danny Wuerfell jersey away from looking like the drunkest Florida fan I've ever met." I regretted it immediately. I should've said "canvas Gators handbag."
Proudest moment: One night we snuck onto the set of "The Dukes of Hazzard" and drunkenly rolled around on the hood of the General Lee. The next day I was hanging out on the set, eating free food and hitting up the crew for weed when one of the Duke boys* was shooting a sequence where he (typically) slid across the hood of his car. He got a running start, jumped and slid halfway across before violently stopping then spinning and flying off the hood. GODDAMMIT!! he screams. CUT!! yells the director and crew members rush to the actor's side.
The set was quiet as one of the crew members inspected the hood of the car. Finally one of them yelled out "Why is there LOTION on the General Lee?!?!?!!"
Catherine and I shared a quick glance. I may have winked but I can't remember.
* - I met the actors who played The Duke Boys, I hung out with them and drank with them for 3 years straight and I never once learned either of their names. It was sort of "my thing" back then, to not learn people's names.
What I’ll miss most:
Her poetry. Honestly, it was incredible. She created these surreal landscapes of a post-apocalyptic world full of rage and love and more questions than answers.
I saved one of them that I will share with you now.
or "Why didn't you help me when I needed it most?"
For Will and for Daddy.
There are four of them
standing at the window.
They watch him
in the bathroom:
socks on the floor
and yet the watchers have no idea
that i watch them as well
through infrared eyes.
I can see how hot their blood is
underneath skin that is thick like denim and
scarred like an old belt
and they have no idea
how easily that same skin will
tear underneath my knife.
NEXT ON ALL MY EXES...
BURT BACHARACH: you son of a bitch.