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Entry date: 3-22-2023 - Revisiting things (and Mary) - Letters to My Friends

Dear Friends,

Almost a year ago, I was writing about being at a crossroads in my professional life. I had decisions to make about potential contracts and I chose to stay with my then employer and take a job working online teaching music rather than jump ship to a district job. If I had it do again, I am not sure I would have made the same decision that I did a year ago. Hindsight and all, being what it is, I would have been better off making the jump.

But then, of course, I would not have met the students that I got to work with for August, September, and part of October. Sure, I would have met other students and who knows how they would have impacted my life, but the path I'm on is for a reason. I have to remind myself of that or, at very least, hope that there is some rhyme and reason to why things happen.

It can't just be random events coming together to make a "life," can it?


Monday night was fun. We played well and the crowd was awesome. It was so good to see so many friendly, loving faces, even though from the stage, I could not see anyone, really, except Q and T, and even then, I really couldn't get a good look at them.

As fun as it was, I'm pretty darn okay with that being one of our final shows. It has been a fabulous run, being a Father Figure. I could not be happier with how we did what we did and Bobby and Michael have been wonderful bandmates. They are two of my closest friends and favorite people. I am also proud of the work we have done together and that says a lot.

But, as people say, always leave them wanting more. On Monday night, I had a number of people tell me they couldn't wait for the next show and that is very gratifying. It always feels good to have someone tell you they like something you have created. Luckily for me, I have a few creative outlets that can feed that particular beast.

Who knows what will happen moving forward, though. We have a few more tricks up our sleeves. Stay tuned.


Mary stood in her front yard staring at her quiet street. This was too much to take in. She had felt the pickaxe sink into Connie's head. She had seen Connie's lifeless body hanging in front her, spilling out spiders by the bucket full, and all of this in the last five minutes.

Connie had been there. They had spent the night together at Connie's house. She and Connie were going to remove the fans. She and Connie were...

Tears began to well up in Mary's eyes as she completed the thought. She and Connie were best friends. She trusted and needed and loved Connie more than anyone.

Had she killed her? If so, where was she now? How could her body just disappear? Where was her car?

The tools, Mary thought. She turned and ran back through the gate to see if Jim's tool box was still on the porch.

It was.

Folded neatly on top was a piece of lined paper. It was the note from Jim that Connie had been holding when Mary was approaching with the ladder, she was sure of it. Mary reached down and picked it up.

Mary slowly unfolded the note, expecting to see what Connie had seen, but she was wrong. This note was from Connie. It read:


I can't believe you killed me. Jim said you would and you did, but Jim's not here. He's not anywhere. There is nothing here. I am all alone because of you. I am all alone yet I am with you. What does that say about you?

Do not call Randy. If you involve him, he will die, too, and he will be alone like me. The spiders will eat him, too. I can feel them biting through my skin as I write this. They are inside of me because of you. I am becoming one of them, I think. I am becoming something.

One more thing. The spiders are inside of you, too.

Forgive me for not forgiving you.


Mary dropped the note on the ground and picked up the pickaxe. The pickaxe looked exactly like it had fifteen minutes before. There was no sign of blood or spiders or anything. Mary looked up again.

She took a long look at the fan spinning lazily. It was just a fan, she thought. Connie is alive and I've got a brain tumor. That's got to be what's happening. She must've loaned my Jim's tool box. Did I ask her for it at school, she wondered.

Mary took her phone out of her pocket and said, "Siri, call Connie."

In an instant, the phone was ringing.

(to be continued)


See you tomorrow.

A bad early attempt at a meme.

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