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Music, Art, the Sunday New York Times, and a fresh bagel.  I actually have been payed for my writing in magazines for years.  Never attempted physical violence on and editor.  I am still writing, going for book length.  Book on the Baby Boomer's called, "Love Was Not All We Needed".  Very serious about learning the craft of painting, my kitchen is my studio, the drawers have never seen silverware.  I lived out east 14 years, a Minnesota boy with a best friend from the South Bronx.  Spent five years travelling from Boston, to La, to Tampa, you name it.  Rubbed shoulders with Fortune Five Hundred CEO's, and driven a friend in bad shape to cop heroin in Harlem.  In Philadelphia my $250.00 hotel room was across from the Stock Exchange.  A men with a bunch of McDonald's bags slept on the sidewalk.  When I looked in the morning,  he was sitting wrapped in his blankets,  feeding the pigeons.  I broke down and cried.  Current book, Charles Bukowski, poems, "Sometimes You Get So Alone, It Just Feels Right."

Worked my way through college, Western Michigan University, film and english lit, minor philosophy.  Worked over 19 jobs in 38 years, unloading shingles for basic wage, shared wine on the corner of the ghetto I lived in, when Jim Crow laws were still on the books.  Made money, bought the hundred grand condo, lost it all.  Thank goodness, I was turning into someone I don't like.  I had begun to think I deserved it.  I am working my way back, and this time, I have one dream.  To totally fund a shelter, anonamosly, so I can spend a nite, taste the food, and be glad I have my own bed.

Sure, older men want younger women.  My wife of 16 yeas had no real libido, we divorced uncontested, she had new priorities.  I confess, I do not want to use any one, no one should be treated that way.  But, as I begin this new time in life, I have a very strong libido. I would like to meet younger women, ever the writer, looking for what is realling going on.  Fun, different, May December, but I know you need to move on, but hey, how about something new for you.  I saw the Stones, Zepplin, Joe Cocker, Muddy Waters, Chuck Berry and on, live, thirty-five years ago.  Saw Detroit burning at the end of the block in 69, stood silent in Central Park with 360,000 other people at John Lennon's memorial.  Tell me your story, I know how to listen.  I know age now barrier to healthy relationships, I too will find my own way.