Missing Forever

KremensBoy.jpgFrom time to time parents would write J. B. Rhine (the head of the Duke Parapsychology Laboratory) for help finding their missing children. This is 6-year-old Bruce Kremen who went missing in Pasadena, California on July 13, 1960. Look at that sweet face. His parents tried everything, for years. At first Rhine would say, I don’t have much faith in them, but sure, try using a psychic. I know how Rhine felt about psychics, but I got the sense that he just didn’t have the heart to remove a source of hope. But then he stopped. He would tell parents outright that psychics cannot help you and they will only take your money and raise false hope. Actually, he didn’t say psychics in general, he would refer to specifics ones who made a living contacting parents like the Kremens.

But I wonder about the Kremens family. What the rest of their lives were like. Did they have any more children? Did they break up (what frequently happens)? Bruce would be 52 today, so his parents would probably be in their 70’s. Oh my God. I just checked. The family is still listed in the phonebook at the exact same address where they lived in 1960. They are still there.

Do I dare call? This is what I went through with the cold case book. Should I call the family of the murder victim or not?? Do I open up old wounds? Actually, if I go by that, in every case they wanted to talk to me. The wounds had never closed and they were glad that their child, brother, father, etc., would not be forgotten. Still, I dread it. Okay, I’m calling. (But later, it’s 6AM there now.)

Oh no. I just checked the Social Security Death Index, in case that was an old listing, and the father died in 2004. He was 84. I’ll still try calling. Maybe the mother or someone else will be there.

The Danger of Sending Me Pictures

Raysmall.jpgThey go straight to my blog. That’s my friend Ray in the middle. I met him volunteering down at ground zero. Ray’s a lieutenant up in Harlem. Look at them with their beers — they almost look like security beers.

Once again, I’m lazing about. I emailed four chapters to my agent, so the day immediately acquired that Miller-time feel and I’ve been unable to work. I’ve been doing things I’ve been putting off that don’t feel like work instead.

1. I set up online banking so I can pay my bills online. I’m, like, the last who writes out checks every month I think.

2. Made a hotel reservation for my family reunion next month.

3. Called my various phone companies to see how I can bring my monthly charges down. I think I can cancel service on one line and consolidate a little.

4. Read this topic on Echo about new cool things on the web to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. I am of course, but nothing critical, except maybe last.fm.

5. I’ve given up upgrading the software I use for this blog for now.

This is Not From Today, Which is Very Hot, Not Rainy

Window.jpg This was from the other day when it rained so hard I thought it would make the coolest picture, and although I tried and tried, I couldn’t get a shot that really conveyed how hard it was raining.

Today’s been an odd day. I’m restless, but something in me is determined to do nothing productive. Instead, I’ve been searching for odd things on the internet. Like Veets and Beams, my two cats before this who are dead. Like I thought someone would be talking about my dead cats. Except a few were, because I wrote a book about them. One person was complaining about what a whiner I am, and I thought, “stop reading, stop reading, stop reading.” Because really, you can’t please everyone and it does no good to read the bad things people sometime say about you.

But then they said they got into it (they were reading Waiting for My Cats to Die) and that I had made them cry. TWICE. (That’s what you get for calling me a whiner!) Actually, it ended up being a lovely post, and I am a bit of a whiner.

Have you ever had days like that, where you take a day off, but end up reduced to searching for your dead cats on the internet, and you should have just worked on something? You’ve had days like that, right?

When a Bomb Drops it’s Always Hitting Someone’s Friends

Leb.jpg My friend Danny went home to Lebanon. Yesterday on Echo he posted, “They started bombing during the morning call to prayer.” Here’s a more complete description of what he’s going through.

Today he posted, “I’m sitting in my office on campus which is by the water; the reports from the warships of bombs heading toward Dahiyeh are shaking the whole building.”

In Lebanon, anywhere a bomb hits it’s close by. Someone on Echo posted that according to the CIA factbook, Lebanon is “about 0.7 times the size of Connecticut.”

But Danny won’t leave.

I understand completely. After 9/11 nothing could have induced me to leave New York, even though for all we knew then, more destruction was coming our way. But still.

(Photos courtesy of the New York Times.)

Wallowing in Food

BrettJackie.jpg Today it was lunch at Tabla with Brett and Jackie. I was jealous of Jackie’s dress. Why don’t I bother to put on a pretty sundress? Look how nice she looks. I could have looked that nice! What is my problem?? Seriously, I wish I made even a little effort with my appearance. I’m back at home now, preparing for the heat wave. It’s supposed to be 97 on Monday. 97 in New York City is not pretty. Help us!
Worked on Duke book.
Emailed Lisette.
Answered email about possible article.
Lunch with friends, having leftovers for dinner, Big Brother.