Category Archives: Autobiography


I have never felt responsible for how others behave towards me, nor for how I behave towards them. Is that because I instinctively rejected my mother’s claim that she took us to the U.S. for my benefit? Or is it because I learned early that asking for anything was an invitation to be denied?
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Why do I dislike celebrations of all kinds? Because they are artificial and designed to manipulate the participants. I am anti-social, happy to be solitary and disconnected. ‘Tis a guilty pleasure that must not be over-indulged.

Aging Matinee Idol

When I was sixteen, my father took me to a sort of night club which featured an aging Chanteuse with very drooping boobs. She was too pathetic to be gross in the mind of a sixteen year old, but I have never been able to figure out what possessed the regular clientele to patronize that dive. It was obviously a going concern and my father knew what to expect.

Archie Rice in “The Entertainer,” as played by Lawrence Olivier is a male version. Poor Donald is the 21st Century version–a has-been matinee idol strutting across the stage.
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