It ended the same way it began. On a hard, linoleum-covered wooden floor. Me lying next to Clay, the Dog. Comforting him at the very beginning. And comforting him again at the very end. Clay, my homeboy companion. My escape artiste extraordinaire. Clay, the canine outlaw of Echo Park. The cat killer and coyote enforcer. The sweetheart and heartbeat of Elysian Heights. Clay, the Dog, who is no more.
it seems like the perfect time to make my exit. to die. to watch my own death… right here on the still shag-carpeted, not hard wood, floor. yeah, my wife’s in the other room. my gray wolf, faithful old dog, clay, is lyin’ right next to me in front of the hearth; i could do it right here… at home. an act of will and surrender, simultaneously. i mean, everything’s in order, right? i’ve had my living will and trust drawn up a few years ago when the old man passed, my 401k is big enough to support my lovely wife for a few more years until she grows into the rest of her life; there’s nothing else i want to do or accomplish. i could just…. let go… sink to the floor… like a movie… right now… and watch my life… be… gone.
the great and generous taj mandela became a dad for the first time at age 52 on june 5th, 2006. his almost 9-pound daughter, laila pearl, was delivered safely and miraculously by midwife at five in the morning in pasadena, california, to mother, natasha, after a long and safe home birth. you know how you have this core kernel of friends? a group of 4 or 5 of you that grow up together? bond together? go through the fire of time and place together? you could have a few kernels, a few different places. maybe one from childhood. another from…