Page Sixty-eight

Wednesday 21 April 2010       Turners Tumbling

Friday is Shakespeare’s birthday. Don’t want to forget it…

A year ago tomorrow I was released from a form of imprisonment that I’m sure wasn’t legal, and it certainly wasn’t moral…

Ordered a new audiobook from the library by Margaret Atwood (I can no longer read books in print — can’t open a book anymore without my family). Love, love, love the title: Moral Disorder…  As a town, as a sampling of one human society, Turners Falls could be the poster child for the category of moral disorder…

On the 24th, it will be the silver anniversary of my moving to the hell-hole of western Massachusetts… twenty-five bloody years…   I was only 32 when I came to this pit, and my kid was only 5…  I still believed there could be a good future…


Eleven years ago this week I was moving myself and my animals from one address in Turners Falls to another… straight into the clutches of an alcoholic, lying, sneaking, underhanded, landlord…  though of course at the time of moving I didn’t know exactly how warped he was…  I’d learn that later, at great emotional cost… I still see him from time to time, and his brain-dead daughter (years of killing the grey cells with alchohol) is “working” in one of the stores. She has a job that seems to have been specially created just for her: she wipes things. I’ve never known the position of wiper to exist in this store before… who’s she boffing? … If you’re an alchoholic in this town, especially one of long-standing, there’s nothing they won’t do for you. I close my eyes when I encounter her, and her father, and make a silent wish for them to suffer…

(face at

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