Monday, October 03, 2005

More stuff

Saw a third private lawyer today, he said the process will likely take months, he's going with me to the public attorney tomorrow to evaluate my progress and make recommendations. Meanwhile Kenyon has been moved to some other house and we can't greet him under the door, hope he's safe, likely is as he is the kidnapper's trump card.

Apparently Maria Martinez, our former maid, now rich landowner by inheritance, thinks we're made of money. We have at present about $3000 to our names. Time was I would have just forked the $9000 over. But not now. And I'm not asking for contributions! Yet the pursuit of Mexican justice has just that sort of Quixotic ring to it that has characterized my life, like being a manic-depressive psychiatrist. Symmetry and irony abound.

Here's the rub: If this takes too long my pension may again be endangered since I must see a doctor within six months back in the U.S., and I don't want to have to return to Mexico for the rest of my natural and sometimes unnatural life.

Also, I have a child support hearing this week where I have to be patched in by phone to Orange County Superior Court. I had hoped to be back for that.

Kathleen's hearing aid mold and tube still haven't arrived; I basically have her sedated at this point as she can't take much more and my Brylcream tube has nearly run dry. Just don't have the energy to grease life anymore. Feel like a pencil stub gouged with teeth marks. Or a butt you steal from a hotel ashtray in a moment of weakness as an ex-smoker. Or a junkie who eyes his fix and says, "Why bother?"

Eeek! Dark similes.

Take out an 'i' and you get SMILES. And Krusty the Klown is a great guy! He's for kids, not ratings!

Maria also has my three nearly complete Simpson Christmas train sets from the Franklin Mint. One was for my Grandson. Oh well.

It may come to our leaving and leaving things in the hands of a Mexican lawyer, which is like storing your antiques on a termite farm, I fear.

Oh well. I don't ask for pity, just understanding. It's therapeutic to type into the void and think someone out there is reading. And you can always e-mail me in commiseration or with worse horror stories at cechaffin@hotmail.com.

Thanks, Ralph and Phillip for writing me!

It really helps. I'm not much of a phone person.

Thine as ever,

CE

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