Skip to main content

My First Apartment

Everybody remembers their first apartment. For me ... it was a REALLY BIG thing. I felt like an adult for the first time ... responsible for monthly payments, cooking my own food, cleaning up for myself ...

Well ... the cleaning part really didn't happen.

You see I had two new roommates: Jeff Adair and Bobby Horowitz (everybody called him Horo). None of us were particularly fond of cleaning and we sometimes left a few dirty dishes around. Okay, it was more than a few dishes. We were ... what's the word for it? Pigs. Truth is ... after a while the kitchen looked like a science experiment ... lots of colors and things growing out of the food and stuff that sat out for weeks. We took great pride in sharing it with everyone who dropped by. No girls of course ... at least none that we were truly interested in ... just other pigs in the neighborhood that wanted to take pictures and compete.

Once every couple of  months, even we couldn't stand it anymore so we hired a guy named Willie, who was the apartment complex handyman. We paid him about 20 bucks to spend the day cleaning (more like gutting) our place. He would come over dressed in a one piece coverall with big rubber boots, rubber gloves, a hood and a mask. He'd hose down the whole place after he disinfected everything from floor to ceiling. (Willie, if you are reading this ...  I thank you from the bottom of my heart. None of us were strong enough to do what you did.)

Jeff was the grown up of the group. He was also the resident "business" man. Every weekend, he drove to Atlanta and brought back cases of turtleneck shirts from his dad's factory for us to sell and make money. We sold them for $4 and kept $3 from each sale. Can you believe that? I thought Jeff must have been stealing these shirts from the factory.

One day I sold three to Larry at the frat house (I guess he wanted to see what it would be like to wear a shirt for a change). I saw him the next day with one on ... and the turtleneck had separated from the rest of the shirt.

He bit me.


Popular posts from this blog

SAMMY: The Novel (An Overview)

I finished writing Sammy:The Novel. 

So ... I called my good buddy and excellent writer, Dave Scheiber, to help me write an overview to pique the interest of publishers. The stuff that Dave wrote made me want to read my own book! We combined our efforts and here's what we came up with:

SAMMY (An Overview)

Sammy Levine, 86-year-old resident of Star of David nursing home, was not happy with his daily existence and dreamed of taking one last trip with his wife Esther (presently residing in an urn on the third shelf in his room). Sammy was careful about not exposing his plan to anyone, especially his son, Barry, who dutifully visited regularly and tried to make sure that he lived out his remaining days comfortably.

Through a carefully choreographed plan, Sammy managed to access personal information on three recently deceased residents from the nursing home’s computers. Then he applied for and obtained three new credit cards. Armed now with available cash and credit, he loaded up Esth…

Close Call

I was just putting the finishing touches on my new novel, Sammy, which will be available to order in November (shameless self promotion!) ... when I started thinking about some of the characters in my past life. One character I've actually written about in the past just popped into my head. It's a repeat story but I hope you enjoy it ... again.

When I was a Freshman at LSU, our dorm was set up like a suite with two adjoining double rooms and a common kitchen and living room. "Suite" really makes it sound much fancier than it was. Actually, living room makes it sound much fancier than it was. The walls were cinder block and the living room was about 100 square feet. I don't think four of us could even stand up in there at one time.

One of the four guys in our suite was the place kicker for the LSU Tigers. His name was Phil and he was from Bogalusa, Louisiana. He had the bed next to mine. Phil was about 6'8" and weighed well over 300 pounds. He was a big …

Princess Grace's Diary

We surprised our little princess, Grace on Friday with a last minute visit to Savannah. She and her BFF Stella had a joint princess birthday party.

It was of course no surprise to Deb and me that the trip had a few surprises for us, too.

It started out with a light show at the airport (we chose to fly rather than drive the 12 hours back and forth for one day). Lightning strikes were coming fast ... so the tarmac was closed until it settled down. We had to get to Atlanta in time to catch what had become the LAST flight of the night to Savannah at 11:20 PM.

We made it ... barely ... and fell asleep at 2 AM.

Up at 8 and out the door via Uber to The Landings (a mere 45 minute drive) and just in time to see this adorable duo.

Big brother Cole was  one of the "hosts".

Pony rides were there for the guests.

Matching Princess cakes (of course).

Lots of fun.

At about 2, Deb and I headed back to the airport with Nikki driving and made it in PLENTY of time to find out that there were n…