I’M SENSUOUS
I’m sensuous. For example, I like opera and tennis. I was born above a deli in 1950. I remember the pickles. The smell. The cukes were right in the goddamn basement. My parents got out of there in 1953 and moved to South Euclid.
At Chillicothe, I did kitchen work. Yeah, I went to prison. Had something to do with drugs. I got high on my own supply and did some bad things. Nobody died.
The whole thing went kaplooey in ’79 — the year I got busted. The Crash of ’79, for me, wasn’t a book. I blew all my money on a racehorse –- owning one — and owed important people some money, and then one thing led to another. Like I said, nobody died.
I play tennis almost every day with some other old guys at the courts here in Hollywood, Florida. Pick up game. Half the guys speak Spanish and are bigshots from Latin America. In the afternoon I tread water in the condo swimming pool. While treading, I listen to Mozart and Verdi on my headphones,
One last thing, I haven’t eaten ice cream in at least thirty years. It’s kids’ food.
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1 comment
One of those nice, cohesive essays you’re known for, Bert. Thanks!
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