Whats going on right now is that my young nephew –18 years old–who has been deeply troubled, is coming here around Thanksgiving time, and so is my brother, from Hawaii. They have always organized me out of things when their reunions are involved and rioght now there is no place to “put me.” For his comfort and convenience, I have been denied a place in the family since. Meanwhile he uses my boarding school and Ivy Leavue connections to parley his way into a life as a Manhattan social climber that continues to define him. It is sickening. My parents are totally into it. I was not invited to the wedding because the Ivy League Manhattanite who picked him up at a windsurfing haunt on Long Island, didn’t want to acknowledge me. I saw through her when they were courting and tried to put the run on her and failed. I had lost my Hutton way. I could have saved them their disaster, and my own, I met my ex at right around that time.
Some truth-telling would do a whole lot of good. Like in the movie Mission Impossible when the Brits get darts full of sodium pentathol. God, it feels good to be up and saying these things. It’s been 28 years. Maybe theres hope.