About Me

As an orphaned young child during the turbulent 1960s, I didn't have much in the way of material possessions. During a field trip to a railroad museum, followed by a ride on an actual train and playing with the toy trains in the gift shop, I became enthralled with model railroads.
I received my very first train that following Christmas. It was a hand-carved and made from trees that the man grew himself on vast timberland acreage. I think his daughter was just recently released from prison, has a new talk show and her name sounds like Bartha.
Trains were much more to me than toys. They were a way to embark on a journey to far away places and seek out life and new civilizations, to boldly go where no man has gone before. Did I mention I'm also a Star Trek fan?
At the age of 18, I received a small monetary gift from the orphanage. I bid the nuns farewell, bought a train ticket to New York City and didn't look back. Well, just once. I thought this old lady was following me.
There were so many trains in New York City. I could hardly believe my eyes. I applied to work as a train engineer but I was told to come back at a later time. Realizing I might break down and sob on his shoulder at any moment, the manager tried to reassure me that the transit strike would be over soon. He advised maybe getting some on-the-job experience somewhere. I nodded my head and left.
I reflected on what the headmaster at the orphanage told me before I left. Rely on what you know. So I followed in the footsteps of my "Saturday Night Fever" star and set the disco dance floor on fire.

To be continued.......

You probably thought I was never going to continue with my story, did you? Well I'm a busy man (heh, heh). Where were we? Oh yes.....

I was living the grand night life, partying and boogying down til dawn. All of that came to a screeching halt one cold December night. The nightclub burned to the ground. It was so awful, so final, and well just very tragic. And shocking. As it turned out, the fire was ruled an arson. The lady who owned the building lived above the nightclub in a large studio apartment. She was a little hard-of-hearing so the loud music didn't bother her and she made a tidy sum off the nightclub's rent. Well an idea came to her quite suddenly as she sat smoking in bed, nice & toasty under her electric blanket and her trusty space heater beside her. She was ready for a big change in her lift. At that moment, Lana, her little dog, jumped up on the bed, surprising the old lady, who then knocked her glass of whiskey onto her space heater. She tried to catch the glass but that caused her to drop her cigarette which fell on the electric blanket. Looking at the chaotic scene before her and her plan formulating quicker than she had intended, she grabbed Lana and fled her apartment. Luckily no one was in the nightclub at the time. Later that day, I went to the nighclub to help set up for the groovy Hawaiian luau and saw the charred remains of my favorite hang-out. Some of my happening friends were there. As we consoled one another, I spotted some policemen escorting an old lady and a small dog from a run-down building nearby. I squinted and realized it was the same old lady who had seemed to follow me in the train station all those years ago. I had never seen her around the nightclub. Her beady eyes bore right through me as she was put into the rear seat of the police car and she continued to stare at me through the window until the car was a distant dot in the horizon. Turns out she was charged with arson and insurance fraud. She was going to use the insurance money to buy a condo in Florida.

As it happens, all good things come to an end. Disco was on its way out (sad, but true) and with my friends now blowin' in the wind, I decided to take a westerly direction. I climbed aboard the train, pondered the meaning of life and set my sights on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I was gonna be famous! My dancing talents had been proven in New York City so I decided to take the next logical step and pursue acting. The starving waiter/actor gig seemed a bit too cliche' and below my station even for a former orphan. I got myself an agent anf found a job in between auditions as a popular character at a nearby well-known theme park. The character's name rhymes with Doofy. My secret ambition was to run the train at the theme park. As much as the Doofy character would help further my acting career, my heart still remained with working with trains. I wished real hard upon a star, the first star I saw that night. I wished I may, I wished I might, be the new train engineer by the very next night. Because a dream is a wish your heart makes and well, golly I'm just a sentimental fool.

My dream came true the very next day when I arrived at work. The old geezer who ran the train for over 25 years ran off with the old biddy who pranced around at the fairy godmother much to the evil queen's (his wife) horror. With my quick wit and amazing sense of humor, I made the train the number one ride. In the meantime, my acting career took off. An ad exec visiting the park with his family saw me in action, figured that I knew round objects when I saw one-the train ran in a circle around the park and had round wheels, he was an odd duck-and gave me a job. I became a spokesman for a well-known brand of bagels. Get it bagels, round, circular, like train wheels? Bagels, you say? Well, it might not be a big deal to you but that ad exec really liked my voice. Yes, my voice. No, I wasn't on television. I did a radio commercial. Surprised? Well I didn't want to become famous just for my good looks. I didn't want to be exploited in that manner.

The bagels stint led to my return to New York City to begin professional voice and singing lessons much to the chagrin of my agent. She was happy with the notoriety that came with being a bagel queen and getting free passes to the theme park for her hoity toity friends and clients. However I needed to grow artistically beyond the reach of the bagels. Look at that poor Mikey kid and that bowl of cereal. I was ready for the big time. I divorced my agent and bid a bittersweet farewell to the theme park train. Yes you read that right. I got married shortly after landing in L.A. She was the first gal I met. She was one of the reasons I needed voice lessons upon returning to NYC. That's what I got for marrying a valley girl. Like anyone could live happily ever after with her. As if! Like gag me! I didn't mention my former marriage sooner as it was not one of my major life's accomplishments. I soon discovered I was not cut out for singing professionally, unfortunately. I had a regrettable experience at an audition while peforming my "Que Sera Sera" number. Oh, please excuse me. Sniffle. My tears are blurring my vision and causing the words to smear on the paper as I write. I just need a moment to compose myself.

All better.

I grew weary of waiting for the next audition call and acting job. So I took matters into my own hands. I went back to the NYC transit building and applied for a janitorial job and got it! My first step to getting to drive a train. With what little money I had, I enrolled into the Wharton School of Business.

It was time to get serious about my life. It wasn't about fun games and playing around on rides. I was ready to show the world what I was made of.

Ah, the 1980s. A decade of money, business, success and power. I wanted my chunk of it. The Ronald Regan era. Trickle-down economics. Oh yes.

I was a little older than most of the freshman class as I started my first year of college. I believe that gave me an advantage over them. I had a few years of life experience under my belt. The first two years flew by so fast. I put my nose to the grind stone, didn't party on the weekends and managed an almost 3.7 grade point average to the disappointment of my dorm mate. Yeah I was living with a 19 year old guy named Donald. Donald was an odd duck and he was looking to make his mark in the business world too. He dressed like the kids from the "Brady Bunch" despite the fact it was now the early 1980s. Polyester pantsuits, wide collar shirts, bellbottoms, yep, that was him. I never saw him on the weekends. He spent Saturdays partying with the frat guys and Sundays with an intellectual study group that focused on computers. Kind of a party geek.

It wasn't until my junior year that my economics professor jarred me from my serious ways. Wow. I noticed her right away. Red hair down to her waist, bright blue eyes and a great set of legs. She seemed rather young to be a professor. As it turned out she was a teacher's aide. The "real" professor liked to take his golfing hour during class. She only filled in for a few days until a replacement was found. Her name was Mary-Margaret. She was a graduate of the Simons School of Perpetual Motion. I asked her to join me for coffee at the student cafeteria a couple of days after setting my sights on her. She smiled and said yes. It was love at first sight over two styrofoam cups of coffee. She was 24, one year my junior. She had her own apartment off-campus and invited me over. Wowee! She made me a fantastic Italian dinner and we stayed up all night chatting about business, money, real estate and where we hoped to be in 5 years.

Mary-Margaret wanted to establish a take-out franchise that would make her a millionaire overnight while I wanted to be the most revered man on Wall Street. I moved out of the dorm. Donald bought me a ficus tree and wished me well as I began my life with Mary-Margaret. She completed her internship at an accounting firm and I finished my junior year. Mary-Margaret had numerous applications at prostegious business firms while I settled on my senior year course work for the coming year.

During that summer break, our plans were drastically changed. It all started with a trip we arranged to Las Vegas. A two-week stay planned so we could relax, make some money to pay off Mary-Margaret's student loans and put some money in the bank for a rainy day. After seeing a performance by some Vegas showgirls, Mary-Margaret realized she had found her true calling. While growing up, she had studied dance quite seriously. She even had a scholarship to attend an arts school. But then her father walked away from the family and left them nearly destitute. She changed her education to focus on money. That way she'd never be dependent on a man. But after seeing the dancers on stage and their exotic costumes, she had a change of heart. She applied for a job, did beautifully at her audition and was set to quit school and not return to New York. I pleaded with her to no avail. I was torn between the love of my life and potentially making the Forbes magazine richest man in America list. Mary-Margaret said she owed it to herself to pursue this path. Her grandma had been a showgirl at the Loco Cabana. While she never gave me an ultimatum, I knew I would break her heart if I returned to New York . But I owed it to myself to finish my last year of school. I wandered the Strip, my hands in my pockets and head down. The decision was so hard. My decision came to me as I listened to Barry Manilow belt out "Mandy". I ran back to our hotel room and told Mary-Margaret my plans. Her eyes filled with tears and she hugged me tight. I boarded the plane back to New York a few days later, leaving Mary-Margaret in Las Vegas. I still had unfinished business in New York City I could no longer ignore.

I spent the remainder of the summer with two of the nuns I stayed in contact with over the years after leaving the orphanage. It was time to find my birth parents. I was serious about marrying Mary-Margaret and needed to find out about my past. My birth records were open to me when I turned 18, but at the time, I didn't care one bit about my birth family. They gave me up and I didn't owe them anything. Sister Agnes handed me my records when I joined her for Saturday afternoon tea in her apartment. She left the room to give me a moment to go over things. She was 36 when she had me. She had passed away only two years before serving a sentence for embezzlement. Sister Agnes had attached my mother's obituary and copy of prison picture in the file. I gasped when I saw the picture. It was the old lady all those years ago at the train station and disco club. After serving time for arson and insurance fraud, my mother hooked up with a rich elderly gentleman who fell instantly head over heels in love with her. She was given a janitorial job at his company. They met as he worked late one night. He couldn't believe my mother was guilty of those charges and promoted her to the accounting department. My mother had a head for numbers and made them work in her favor. An audit several months later revealed her embezzling activities. Her admirer was completely shocked and believed she was set up. But the evidence was stacked up against her. She was planning on moving to Florida. I never did know what her fascination was with moving there. She died of natural causes. My mother had never wanted children apparently. As for my birth father, his identity remains a mystery. My mother simply stated she was abducted by aliens. I put the papers and photo back in the folder. I thanked Sister Agnes for her time and set off back to my apartment. Mary-Margaret sent me money from Las Vegas to pay the rent.

I dug my heels back into my schoolwork upon starting the beginning of my final year of college. Keeping busy kept my grades up and prevented me from getting depressed over Mary-Margaret who was still in Las Vegas. The last two quarters of school flew by quickly. Mary-Margaret came home for Christmas break. I proposed to her on a snowy Christmas Eve and she said yes. We would be married right after I graduated. I decided to focus my career sights on business management. I graduated with honors near the top of my class. Sister Agnes and Mary-Margaret sat in the audience as I received my diploma. I had finally made it!

Mary-Margaret and I had a simple July wedding with all of my old disco pals, Donald and some of the nuns from the orphanage in a little chapel in Las Vegas. My disco pals spiked the punch at the reception. And let me tell you, those nuns can boogey!

We settled in Las Vegas in a condo. Mary-Margaret was making great money dancing. I landed a job at one of the casinos in the head offices. After noticing some unscrupulous business activities by a co-worker and mentioning it to the casino owner, I was given $50,000 to keep my mouth shut, leave Las Vegas in the next 12 hours and never return.

Mary-Margaret and I quickly pondered our change of fate. We traded in our car for a used motorhome and hit the road. We sold our condo to one of Mary-Margaret's co-workers. We toured the U.S. in a little over a year, living carefully off the funds from my bad former boss and the sle of the condo. We met so many interesting people.

After a couple years of marriage, Mary-Margaret revealed she was pregnant. We could no longer continue our nomadic lifestyle. We headed back to our roots in New York. I finally landed a job with the NYC transit department, overseeing quality control on the trains. The salary started at over $100K per year. Mary-Margaret was able to be a stay-at-home mom to our new bundle of joy, Clarissa Sue. Mary-Margaret no longer cared about the dancing or becoming a millionaire. She felt her calling was being the best little wife and mother she could be. We bought our first home in a quaint little housing development an hour from my job. Two acres separated us from our neighbors. We didn't even see our neighbors due to the vast, plentiful landscaping on our property borders. The house was only 15 years old with dark brown aluminum siding, sunny yellow trim and single pane aluminum windows. It was a big split-level. Making the awesome salary I did, allowed me to invest in my model-railroading hobby. I displayed my collection in an upstairs spare bedroom.

Mary-Margaret gave birth to our son, Poindexter when Clarissa Sue was 3 years old. We were so blessed with our little girl and boy in our beautiful home. I gave Mary-Margaret entire control over our finances as I trusted her completely and she really wanted to redecorate the house. I moved my trains from the spare bedroom into the basement to make room for little Poiny. It was nice to have my own little spot in the house to play with my toys when I got home from a long day at work.

Mary-Margaret was very enthusiastic about having a $25000 kitchen remodel. Sally down the road had just updated hers and it looked amazing. Mary-Margaret didn't like feeling like second-best. If my little muffin wanted a new kitchen, she was going to get one. Mary-Margaret's projects began to add up over the years. I questioned her once, asking how we were managing financially. She stared at me dead in the eye so much that I had to look away. She stated that if she had more money to work with, then it wouldn't be a problem. And maybe if I reduced my monthly train allowance, she would have something to work with. I oblidgingly cut my train allowance to $50 a month and never brought it up again. I got a job on the weekends as a kids' party clown. My theme park days helped me land that job.

As the children approached school-age, Mary-Margaret insisted on renovating the basement so she could teach our children at home. She felt the public school system was severely lacking for our extremely bright children. I asked Mary-Margaret where I was going to run my trains. She gave me a look that had my knees trembling and I moved my prized collection out to the garage. I was so proud of Mary-Margaret for teaching our children the right way. I was one lucky man.

Present time: Well I'm still in middle management with the city transit. I hope one day to get promoted. I hope to retire when I'm 85. I should have enough saved up after repaying all of the loans. Mary-Margaret completed our home renovations in 1989 and it all looks wonderful nearly 20 years later. I'm proud to say Clarissa Sue graduated at the age of 14 and enrolled into a 4-year university as a science major. I think we have the next Madame Curie on our hands. So long as she doesn't get radiation poisoning. She visits home every other weekend so she can keep up on her studies. We bought her a brand new Lincoln Town Car when she decided to pursue her education on the other side of the state. I was willing to give her my Pinto but Mary-Margaret insisted she have the best. She is such a good girl. Poindexter is such a stud with the ladies. He will be graduating at the age of 16 next year. I was worried for a short time about my boy not losing his baby fat by the age of 13. Mary-Margaret tended to overfeed him at times but I kept my mouth shut. Little Poiny decided to help his mom in the garden instead of sitting in the house reading all the time, hence why he didn't graduate early like his sister. Little by little, the weight came off. He is dating little Janie from down the street. She is near-sighted and has buck teeth. Poindexter is so kind to those who are less fortunate. As for me, I still have my little corner of the garage for my trains. Mary-Margaret insisted I start liquidating my collection to help the children establish themselves once out of school. Mary-Margaret now finds she has a little extra time on her hands now that the children are almost fully grown. She is looking at taking a correspondence course in raising sheep. Life is just so wonderful. Oh yes.

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