Website & blogs © Louis Kraft 2013-2020
Contact Kraft at writerkraft@gmail.com or comment at the end of the blog
Facebook is part of my life, and although to survive I am attempting to move from FB to this blog, I am now moving between two online worlds. I have a lot of friends, and I get along with people well, for they—you—drive my life. Only Marissa knows the hell of loneliness that is my life, for I don’t share this.
Pardon the vanity … but I use images taken of me to create art that I sell. Money moves my world, but only because I enjoy eating. (Art © Louis Kraft 2013)
Not often, but perhaps today i need to open up for my sanity.
I hope someone sees the following FB posting, but she won’t for she isn’t on FB. By posting it on the website I am making it available to her. If she sees it, and if it offends her, I hope that when next she sees me, she belts me, for I deserve it.
The words are totally out of line. … I’m a gutsy fellow, but when it comes to what I want—really want—I’m not very good at doing what I need to do. … Not good at doing what I need to do for me. I can pitch a story idea and if it isn’t wanted I can walk away without a whimper, without feeling rejection. However, I don’t do well in life and often walk away without the other person ever knowing that I’m interested in her. I can’t tell you how often someone has said to me, “If you had just let me know … ” years later. This is not a lesson I have learned, not lesson I have moved beyond. What was true when I was young is true today. I just posted something on FB … and it is part of who I am. This blog lives because I need to discover who I am. What follows is from a FB posting, and hopefully if the lady in question sees it she isn’t offended:
“I haven’t heard a good song in a long time. Weeks back I heard Rihanna and some of her friends perform “Stay,” and whoa, this is a song that hits me dead center. A lot of changes are going on in my life, and this lady’s music has caught me in a place I haven’t been in a long time. “Stay,” … and let me tell you it’s about time someone I want stays in my life. I’m not dead. Hell, I’m not close to being dead. I can’t guess how many people I’m going to piss off in the next 40 years. Need a lady to join this walk into the future. Need a lady to hold me tight. There’s only one person who fits the above words. Need to step outside of my safe zone and risk upsetting a small friend, I need to risk ending a friendship to create something I want. Hard decision, but it is time to go after what I want.”
Dear lady, if you see this and are offended, please hit me with your best swing.
Found your reminiscences of Lubbock and the Hayloft quite interesting. Lubbock and that dinner theater–the latter closing permanently along with its signature actress at the end of that year of 1976 (it was already fading to black even before that summer you spoke of) were to become an experience burnished in my mind that would never relent during my lifetime. Having come from the area (Dallas, but in Texas areas are quite large) I too have found myself perplexed at the various attitudes about race–no, better to say attidudes about self and others. The more so when sojourning there as opposed to when being from there. Ironically, the best understanding of “race” interaction seems to go hand in hand with the being close to it for the longest time–even for a life time. When I attained to the age where I could say I had no fear of no person, it occurred to me that to a large degree the discomfort of being around it is self imposed: people in new places tend to fear what is unexperienced so set themselves up to experience any outcome as the worst outcome. A sort of watch out for the Romans predisposition.
During my acquantance at the Hayloft–yes, up in the loft–I found my acquaintances with the LA area actors to be most pleasing. And, somehow they found be both acceptable and interesting, which was surprising. Among those people were the first centerfold in Playgirl magazine–a former starring role on TV’s Mission Impossible. Now there was a case where the haughtiness one might expect turned out to be nothing but sheer humility, friendliness, and generosity of spririt. The one California “opinon” of Lubbock and west Texas that stuck most in my memory of those days was their admiration for the physical attractiveness of Texas people in general. Even though from Dallas where women were known for beauty–and I realize the LA people were alking about women and men–that came as a surprise of sorts coming from sunny SoCal and its beach culture. But it also echoed what my New York house mate had offered during my sophomore year at Tech: his amazement that so many femmes of striking beauty could be congregated on one campus, and not even act as anything other than average. Well, that is all for now. I am not holding out any expectation that you will see this, or even be interested, after so many years, if you do. No matter, though. If you are able and would like to reply, that would be fine.
Regards,
Steve (back then sometime called Renee and Steve)
Sorry for any proof omissions. Late night, tired, weary.
Steve P (also called Renee), first and foremost … what a magnificent comment! This is an understatement, for your words resound to this day. I know I read it years back, but somehow didn’t approve it (perhaps because I didn’t have time to comment). I had learned/heard that the Hayloft Dinner Theatre in Lubbock, Texas, no longer existed. That is a shame looking back, for it was a wonderful experience for me (although at times harrowing). At the time the oversized owner (forgot his name) was thrilled to see my departure for I confronted him more than once (for example: when my check was reduced by half after rehearsals ended and the first play opened, and I told him that my contract didn’t state this and that if he didn’t pay me my full contracted salary I would fly back to LA. … Short story, I received my full salary plus a raise for the second play). In 1976 the city was alive, at least that part of it that I was introduced to, and much of what I observed–except for extreme racism–was close to the Los Angeles, California, that I lived in. I have good memories of the three months I was there. Actually I have spent over six months of my life in Texas (including training to become a member of VISTA (Volunteers in Service to America) in 1970 (Austin). Over the years I have attended conventions where I spoke while also tracking Custer/Cheyennes in 1869 for my books (and I have seen racism during some of those visits). This said, I have enjoyed every minute that I have been in Texas. At times I have considered moving to Texas (Austin or San Antonio), but am still in Los Angeles.