Very.

Shattered by Lisa Morgan.

His name is Arnold Ferolito. He was a friend of my father. How did they meet? I don’t know. But the story starts like this…

Arnie was down on his luck. He had a business model based on some kind of green/environmental concept. But it was the 1960s - and that wouldn’t be a viable thing for 50 years. So my father’s advice was “Stick to your strengths. You’re a brilliant electronic engineer with experience in video. That will be a growth field. Find something there.” Well, the timing was impeccable. Within a few weeks, there was an accident at a studio in Manhattan. Two cabinet-sized muti-million-dollar videotape machines were blown out a window in Manhattan to the street several stories below. Arnie bought them as scrap, rebuilt and resold them. That became the seed money for AF Associates.

During my tweens, we would visit them for a day once a year or so. Swim in his pool. I’d chat with his daughter (close to my age), who was oddly willing to talk with me - introverted and awkward as I was. Turns out, the whole family was badly twisted. The older (middle) son was bright, but impossible to talk to (aka autistic). The younger one was “disturbed”. My sister (about 3 at the time) nearly died in that pool once. I was the only one who saw her fall in and I fished her right out.

I worked for AFA in the summer of 79 before my senior year in HS. AF did my father a favor and hired me for the few weeks. I assembled the on-location truck that went to the keystone of the remote TV studio at the Lake Placid Olympics. AFAssociates was reputable and successful. At least for a few years.

'Round about the 90s, my father volunteered me to help AF with some “tech stuff”. It turned into endless demands on my time. AF had seen my father demo a video camera connected to a TARGA board in a 486 PC. AF decided he wanted multiple cameras connected to a PC in each of his 3 houses (NJ, LI, FL) so he could keep an eye on them. Enter the GEOVISION board. These were first-gen tech at the time. The setup was difficult and finicky. There was no support. And it ran on Windows 95. Then there was the dynamic IP issue for the home DSL services. Plus VNC for remote access through the open router ports. It became a full-time support gig - with SUPER URGENT calls all the damn time when a PC crashed or an IP address changed. Did he pay? He did not.

All this time he’s working on his new business. An offshoot of AFA, it involves satellite signals and offshore content, and complex licensing. None of which I care to listen to. Oh, and he’s suing his son-in-law. And his daughter won’t talk to him. And his brilliant son working at Intel won’t either. And his wife divorced him 10 years ago. But that’s OK, his new wife Olga is young and beautiful and Russian. And he gets more and more insistent with his political opinions. Which are generally disgusting racist, elitist, anti-immigrant, winner-take-all, AnCap, well, you know the type. Except this was still the 1990s when Newt Gingrich was the worst US politics had to offer. He was out there.

Well, It got annoying. No pay, calls all the time, constant blame for issues, noxious opinions. My father had passed away, so I had nothing tying him to me. So I ghosted him.

He called me endlessly and left long voicemails. Some were guilt trips calling out to my dead father. Some were poor-me pity pleas citing his failing health. The calls lasted several YEARS, but finally tapered off. I never looked back.

Except I did. I looked him up. Holy shit, he’s in WIKIPEDIA! https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/RM_Broadcasting He’s LITERALLY a foreign agent! As declared by the State Department! He is a small part of a root cause of the downfall of this country. And I am sure that he is proud of the way things are headed.

If he (or anyone he knows) reads this, I am doxxed. But I really doubt this has any traction to spread. Please do not repost this.

I do too. Mine involves a Russian agent in the US. I plan to use real names and dox him. It will certainly take time to type up.

No… Tell me more.

Two very niche board games from the 70s: “Snit’s Revenge” “Lie, Cheat, and Steal”

And an old Avalon Hill wargame: “Wooden Ships and Iron Men”

deleted by creator

My GG grandfather was killed when soldiers fired into an unarmed crowd that was protesting for basic human rights. This was in Marineo, Sicily, on 3 January 1894. His widow had to flee to the NYC tenements with their 6 children to start fresh - as progressive sympathizers were not safe.

She was poor in Sicily, she was destitute when she arrived in the US. Like many others, she did garment piece work to get by. Other Sicilian immigrants arrived in a wave and they made a new community.

When the Triangle Fire happened, real labor reform began to happen through the work of the ILGWU and others. They did not stop protesting until they got results.

Yes. Hard times ahead. Hard times behind may show us the way forward. Ad astra per áspera.

Any coating might produce this through reflective destructive interference.

My father’s death was one of the best things that happened to me.

Three is a magic number

We had a difficult move. In that first chaos, we saw the folks across the street with their kid - the same age as out kid (6 years old). Now, I know where they live, and it’s a nice neighborhood, so I asked if they would mind a “playdate” at their house for the next few hours (aka babysit). They were happy to do it.

But I should do this in order:

Directly behind us was Agnes. She had the bad kind of dementia, and her daughter (a nurse) was trying to hold it all together. But there was a LOT of screaming as Agnes had no recall of her daughter and thought she was a robber/killer. I had been in a similar situation years earlier and gave our sympathies to the daughter. Agnes died that year and they sold the house.

Clockwise, our left-side neighbor is retired. They winter in Florida. The son is a mental case - shouting profanity and obscenities on the phone at all hours on his back deck. We can’t use our deck for the first three years. It mitigated later on. But no relationship there.

Across-left is a VERY private family. Eastern European accent. Grandmother, mother, 3 teen kids, dog. We are told the dog bites. Always pleasant. Never much to say.

Across the street is a busy house. He does some kind of dirt-moving-landscaping thing. Wife is smiley and quiet. Older boys, and a girl in middle school. We ask for a quote for some work like he did for his left-side neighbor. Says Sure, then blows us off. Three times. We don’t talk now.

Across-right are the folks from the first story. They have TWO kids. Girl is 2 years older. We became close and still are. The boy becomes a stand-in brother for my son. Like brothers, they have nothing in common, but make it work.

Right-side has the opposite: boy is 2-years older and the girl is the same as my kid. So that’s 5 kids at the grade-school bus stop. Every morning the three families stand out front with coffee and chat. wait for the bus, send off the kids, chat some more, head off to work.

The right-side folks have become our closest friends. Wonderful people. We mow each others’ lawns, depending on who gets to it first. Outside movie nights in the lawn between the houses. Built matching COVID gardens next to each other. Kids do homework together.

Oh, and back to the backyard. The folks that moved in have a Brooklyn mentality. Squirrels are rats and need exterminating. Every yard needs a fence. Loud music at parties. Suspicious of any new folks. My wife had a bit of that when we met, but lost it after a year or two. I doubt these folks will warm to us, since the fence they put in is 8’ high.

There are others further off. “The folks with the Red Setter”. “Old Italian Cranky guy”. “The guy whose wife died”. There’s a zombie house on the block - unoccupied for 7+ years. “ZZ-Top dude” - he has a long beard). All folks that walk around the block in nice weather. We wave and smile. Chat about dogs or the weather or the garden if everyone is cheery.

It seems a good idea to remain civil (or silent) - neighbors with grudges make life miserable all around.