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So no one cared where I slept. Just as long as I did my job, and that could have been done better than it was if I was more interested.
I don't really remember it and I know I should know, but I probably had to bike in to work by six AM and suppose I biked over the Arlington Memorial Bridge by side-walk on stone with golden street lights guiding my way, but to tell the truth I have no recollection - a crime really such a beautiful bridge and the river at dawn.
MaryJ was different. She wore the latest long dress fashions. She was a vegetarian. She was a picture painter when at home in Tarzana California. She was a liberal and I was somewhat conservative, not by my choice but more-so of right-wing Republican influence growing up. She knew Impressionist painting and foreign film and I did not. Subtitles gave me a head-ache. I liked to watch the film not read the dialogue.
I had been an intellectual but for only a little over a year. Before that it was into cars and TV dramas. But the one thing I believed then, was that there was an intellectual magic bullet, a knowledge that solved all problems, the ultimate answer.
But it occurred to me one evening laying on my army bunk under my black board on my olive green wool blankets, shiny brown linoleum floor, curtain for a door - if the mind cannot predict the future the answer is not in the mind. It was a revelation and changed everything. The answer must be some place else.
We moved MaryJ and I, not that we had anything to carry, another one bedroom studio fully furnished in Cow Hollow about half way between the river bridge and Pennsylvania Avenue.
(6 of 16)
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