Going on a trip to Los Angeles the place I was born and spent half my life and now I am about there to having spent more of my life away than there. It is always a strange experience to revisit ones home town when you haven't lived there for years, all that T. Wolfe stuff about never going home again and all that. I have these funny dreams from time to time that have me driving or walking through various neighborhoods that seem to be from my growing up in Los Angeles but the little bits I do remember are from what I can gather recollections of all the places I have lived. I do relish the fun of driving  a little bit, being a kid from LA meant that driving was part of ones rites of passage into adulthood and adventures usually started with driving somewhere. Adventures, losing ones virginity all that good stuff. I didn't lose my virginity in a car but a road trip was the beginning of that episode in my life. And some of the more interesting adventures I went on with my late cousin had to do with driving. Oddly I just learned that one of my age peers a fellow I knew from high school just recently passed away, the last time I saw him was at my cousins funeral which is also the last time I was in Los Angeles and is also the basis for some angst about the trip. There are still emotional reverberations from that time. I would not be me if were not the case.

I am also thinking about the next stage of my life, retirement, though I still have a few years to go, not that many as I would like to think. The question of where to live and what to do and what friends I really have, a question that bothers me as I don't really have that many close friends that I hang with. I have always been a solitary individual who was surprised to even be married. I am social enough and a friendly person but lack some quality that leads to bonding with people in ways that I leave me wondering about myself. I enjoy the relationships I have on-line, and am not a hermit just existing on-line bereft of any human company beside my wife but I do come close. The sad neurotic story of my life.

I guess that is one of the things that really bothers me about my losing my cousin as we were close but not close as I wish we had been, I wish I had been able to be there for him in more ways in the last phase of his life, I miss the opportunities I gave away to get to know him better or to share more time and life with him. We had so much history together throughout our lives, I was there during various important moments of his life, new wife, new houses, kids and even to some extent I did participate in the ending of his life but still I feel lacking. But it doesn't change my facile ways, I am no closer nor do I seek out anymore closeness or bonding than before. The human condition as a series of circumstances and happenstances as we lurch from moment to moment defining our lives. I am ever dissatisfied, forever on the verge of disappointment even as I feel great gratification with my minor triumphs. That is part of defining who I am and this is partly prompted by going back to the city of my origins.

I am in a melancholy mood, no matter.

ta ta for now