While some of you might remember the house on Charleston, I lived there from 1983 to 1985. It seems like a lot longer than that, in many ways, but it was only a few years. It was number eight in the places I have lived, but it was a pivotal home for me as I will explain when I write about it specifically. I did put a picture of it in an earlier blog, as you may recall.
From there I moved in with my mom in an apartment she shared with a guy named Steve. This was at 28th Street and Osborn on the northeast corner and you have probably driven by it a bunch of times if you are a Phoenician. I’m trying to remember what the name of the complex was back then, because I think it has changed in the meantime. Anyway, Steve was a friend of my mom’s from way back, an interesting guy, and when things went south, like way south, between my dad and I, it was time for me to see what living with mom was like again. (9)
Within a month or two, we moved into a different apartment so I could have my own bedroom. This was at a place called Casa Bravo on 22nd Street, just north of Indian School. Right down the road for the Jack in a Box that has been there forever. Some of you might recognize that there was a Hillbilly Devilspeak song named “Casa Bravo,” too, but the only relation is the name. My aunt Julie and cousin Ben lived right next door (and they had moved there several months prior). It was a good size for my mom and I, still close to Easy Street, and Ben and I could spend a lot of time together, walk to school, etc. (10)
Home number eleven was really just a temporary stop for me. In the summer of 1987, I was getting ready to join the army and my mom didn’t need a two-bedroom place anymore, so at the end of August, she moved into a one-bedroom just south of Campbell on 25th Street. The complex doesn’t even exist anymore. I lived there for about two weeks before I went to Georgia and then when I got back, off and on for about four months. (11)
On September 15, 1987, I moved to Fort Benning, Georgia, which is just outside of the town of Columbus. I lived there for seven weeks and did get to spend a little bit of time in Columbus, too. I have been putting off telling this story, but I will get to it this year, I promise. (12)
When I returned from the Army at the end of October 1987, I had a good amount of cash, so I rented another apartment in the Casa Bravo complex with my friend, Brian, during the month of November. This lasted one month. I will tell this story, as well, at some point. It’s not a high point in my life by any stretch of the imagination and I’m working up the courage to do it justice. (12)
When the apartment with Brian became an unlivable situation, Aunt Julie and Ben took me in for a week before I moved in with my mom again at place number eleven. I stayed there until I chose a trip to Mexico instead of working my short-time job at the Pointe on 7th Street and mom kicked me out. I was 18 and thought I knew more than I did, and I had an escape route, too, where I wanted to move. I’m realizing I have a few blogs worth of stories to tell from the period between December 1987 and April 1988.
After an Easter weekend trip to Mexico (not the 1989 one with Brian that I chronicled recently), I took my clothes and a few belongings to the Polka Dot Pad. This was an apartment on 48th Street just south of McDowell in a complex called Hopi Tree. I had been spending a lot of time there and Jeff, Matt, and Andy (as he was known then) welcomed me as their fourth roommate. Jeff had his own room, Matt and Andy shared another, and I got the couch. It worked for me at the time and in the three short months I lived there, a lot of history was made. (13)
When Matt decided to move back to Chicago, and Hopi Tree kicked us all out, Jeff and I decided to get our own place on 27th Street and Clarendon. I was enrolled in Phoenix College for the fall semester of 1988, so my grandparents helped me out with my rent so I could concentrate on school. I think we paid $350 per month there. Within a few days, Brian moved in and took the couch. I have stories to tell about this place, too. (14)
That apartment lasted six months. We moved in at the beginning of August after my first stint of being relatively homeless. I’m trying to remember where I stayed during the few weeks where we didn’t have a place. I know Jeff was at home with his folks, but I did some couch surfing for a few weeks. I remember staying with Emily when she was housesitting for a week, I think, and with Jennifer, for a few days, and maybe with Ben and Aunt Julie again. I have to think on that.
From there, I moved to my own apartment in the Lanai complex on 7th Avenue and Earll. Basically, across the street and down a block or two from Phoenix College. I moved in there in February of 1989. I was a bit separated from most of my friends for the first time in a couple of years, geographically, because I didn’t have a car. I had a bike and a skateboard, but that was okay. I lived there for almost exactly two years. (15) Lots of stories from this era, too. Some of you who read this will be part of them.
This is a good place to stop, I think. I’ve hit 1000 and what happened next started a new chapter in my life.
See you tomorrow.
For about 5 weeks I lived in a place that looked like this.
Here's what I was listening to in those days....I had these three records on cassette and wore them out.