I love the summer. I’ve been dropped here against my will by some other person. My father. I have no control over my life. I have to go to school at a new school as a stranger. I know you have a problem with my dissatisfaction and depression.
I excel in school and start a band. I thrive in this shit hole you’ve dropped me off with no concept of how that will break your son’s spirit.
Janice is off in college so you’re good. If anything is of kilter your going to lose your shit and that is me.
What did you think was going to happen?
Let’s rip the 17-year-old son from all of his friends and his band from Philly and drop him off in Wildwood, New Jersey. A retirement and resort town the you already know is a deathtrap for young people.
You dropped out of high school to get away from this hell hole. You joined the army rather than turn to crime at 17. You fucking asshole that I love.
I get it. I worked in banking just like you for 30 years. You were making a bunch of bad loans at the Provident in Philly and got out when the getting was good.
You retreated to NJ. your little safe haven to escape, but you never thought of what that would do to the children in your life.
The little ones were fine. April and Gabby didnt;t know any better. But I was a senior in high school. I never got to graduate with my friends at Frankford in Philly. I had a band. You destroyed that for your little escape plan.
But what was that. You replicated your life in NJ as the regional manager at First Fidelity Bank. You’re a great manager and a great man. But you really have a taste for some of your employees, man.
I remember telling you about a girl I met once how I was in a relationship and I told you about how I had feelings for her.
You said, “Why don’t you just move on her”
I said: “Because that would be wrong. I’d be cheating on my girlfriend and that would betray her trust in me.”
You were pleased and happy with my answer.
I knew it.. because you could never be that. I could see it in your eyes you were relived that I wasn’t like you in that respect.
If you’re unhappy in your liffe, divorce mom and just send the check and leave us the fuck alone. Then you can bag Jennifer Sweeten or as you call her “sweet meat” all you want until her husband finds out.
You’ll figure it out.
You and your brother Jack were dropped off here after your parents divorced. Nobody got divorced back then.
Why the hell would you think it was a good idea to drop me off in this shit hole?
Wildwood is a glistening sand castle of magical fun and romance in the summer… and then it turns into a bleak shroud of dark depression where there is nothing going on in the winter. It is a desolate hole of isolation that is impossible for a teenager to escape.
Here I am. I know you and there is a part of you that is me. Some great. Some awful. But you have the chore of raising the shitty you and now the shitty son you don’t understand who is too much like your brother Jack.
So if there were any questions as to why Chaz wanted to load up the ’69 Volkswagen minibus and drive across the country to go live in sunny California let’s put all of that to rest right now.
I love you, you selfish, self-serving prick.
I really do.
Thank you for teaching me to read. Thank you for all of the books. Thank you for your honesty. Thank you for teaching me to ride a bike. Thank you for teaching me how to catch a fish. Thank you for teaching me to drive a car. Thank you for teaching me about wine, art, and literature and film. Thank you for teaching me about women. (To an extent) Thank you for everything.
I’m not going to mention all of the bad stuff here.
All ready did some of that.
Time to load of the 69 VW minibus and head to California.
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