Memories with My Daughter, Episode 2

Many years ago, following a lengthy custody dispute, I found myself as my daughters (then 4 years old) primary care provider. Her mother had moved to Colorado and wanted to take her with her, but the courts sided with me. I was so relieved and excited. It was just the two of us. We shared a two bedroom apartment near downtown San Diego, near Balboa Park, Old Town, and the zoo.

We had an amazing summer. Our location was awesome. We would spend weekends at the beach and everyday after school we would walk across the street to Balboa Park and play on the swings and jungle gyms. Every night she would take a shower and sit on the couch in her towel while I made dinner. It was never the best meal, but certainly not the worst. After dinner, she would sit in front of me as I combed her hair out and put it in a ponytail. We spent morning, noon, and night together. We were a team. Wherever I went, she went.

Near the end of that first summer together, I'm not gonna lie, I was exhausted. She was never a difficult child. In fact, she was my best friend and I enjoyed every minute I had with her, but at the same time, I was kinda looking forward to her returning to school. She needed time with kids her age and I needed time with friends my age. Im not ashamed of that. Ask any single parent and they will tell you that sometimes you need to have grown up time.

Memories With My Daughter, Episode 1

Dealing with 7 year olds is tough. Yeah, theyre still children. Adorable little cherubs that have a heart of gold and truly mean no harm. Their innocence still intact, uncorrupted by the shit-show of a world we live in. They bounce and frolic through life seeing the good in people and believing only the greatest things are possible. Heartache is a surprise and confusing to them.

At the same time, they can be little imps that do stupid stuff whereby their curiosity gets the best of them and they, ultimately, learn a hard lesson. Yeah, theyve seen us light candles and stared for hours at that little flame in utter amazement. I imagine its like watching a teeny tiny fireworks show. They are mesmerized. Or maybe they saw a dude jump over 20 cars on his motorbike, so surely they can jump over their Barbie car on their bike with training wheels. A skinned knee, some hurt pride, and a broken Barbie car soon follows.

Unless they do something overtly bad, its hard to get too upset with them. Sure its frustrating, but what can you do?

What happens when they hover somewhere between adorably pure and curiously frustrating? Yeah, I was at a loss too.

How I Accidentally Became a Drug Dealer

Let me tell you about how I accidentally became a drug dealer?

So, many years ago, I was living in San Diego. Had a nice place about two blocks from the beach. It was an older white stucco beach house, complete with a large deck in front that held two couches. Not uncommon was waking up and finding random revelers passed out on our couches. No worries. We would put a fresh beer on the table in front of them, along with a joint. We understood they must gotten as far as they could before finding our pad and calling it a night. Other days we would sit on the deck and watch all the women do the walk of shame and congratulate them on their victory. They were never nearly amused as we were. Other than that, our days were spent surfing, skating, getting in fights, drinking, and whatever drugs we could get our hands on.

Our group consisted of about 12 people, guys and girls alike. We had an attorney, a skateboard company owner, an architect and an engineer. We also had a server, a customer service rep, an ice cream vender, and a phone mechanic. We ranged in ages from 22 - 39. We were tight. We did everything together. We had a meeting spot at the beach. If you had nothing going on, just go to the spot and wait. In due time, a friend would show up and off you went, to the bars, clubs, house party, beach party, wherever. It was probably the best time of my life, but I cant be sure. (If only someone would tell you this was the best time of your life, right?)

Along the way, we all became big fans of ecstasy. I mean, we were popping pills all weekend long. Our typical cycle consisted of ecstasy, home for a valium, wake up, smoke weed, followed by cocaine, then back to the beach for drinking, then more ecstasy, and so on. In fact, at one point a friend asked, "Are you guys aware your entire life is dependent on narcotics." We laughed. Nothing changed.