At A Charity Auction, No Less
I recently celebrated 31 years of marriage and 30 years sobriety, so I am happily married and relatively content with life and living. We share a wonderful daughter, age 28, who is pursuing her dreams in Hollywood. However, I was not always happy and content.
My first marriage began in December 1967 at the Tarrytown House in Tarrytown, New York. My first bride, Susan, was a summa cum laude graduate of William Smith College, smart, warm, caring, an aspiring actress, and working for Fawcett Publications in Manhattan. I was just a loud graduate of Hobart College, where I found all of the bars, then my first job had me trying out teaching unsuccessfully in the mid-Hudson Valley.
I became a case worker in New York, decided I needed a “professional” education if I were going to be able to help people. It is a long story, but we found ourselves in Baton Rouge, Louisiana where I was a clinical social work student at LSU for two years. Susie worked in advertising and developed a solid career. She also began studies for a PhD, which she eventually did complete. God, what a smart woman, except, of course, for marrying me.
I found a job totally outside my training. Rather than clinical social work, sort of a junior psychiatrist, I worked with a statewide agency developing regional and statewide plans for improved emergency medical services. Heady stuff: public policy, research, surveys, grants, and lots of time traveling around Louisiana. Yet again, I knew the bars all too well.
Susan and I drifted apart, no animosity, no ill will, simply no longer a fit. We let our families know we were separating and anticipating being divorced. Despite the amicable nature of our split, it was a wrenching, God awful experience. What a feeling of shame and abject failure, but it was what it was. We were going our separate ways.
And then I attended a charity fundraiser in Baton Rouge. I came away with two successful bids: first, an oil painting, a nude, done by Don Wight in 1973. Bought it for $50. It is worth in the neighborhood of $1,500 today and sits in the back of my closet. Second, the piece de resistance and the real story: I bid on and won a lawyer’s offer of his services for “a will or an uncontested divorce.” I am perhaps the only person in the country that paid for his divorce this way. Susie and I flipped a coin in his office to see who would be the “bad guy” and I won (or lost), and we went on to completing the divorce with both of us living in different states, Susie in Michigan, and me in New York..
Friday, October 05, 2007
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