Ferrari Mailing List: Re: Ken why DID you sell your Ferrari?

[red5hilser (red5hilser]

Ken: Are you my long-lost twin brother? Most of your experiences happened to me 
too. She took it ALL, except the clothes I found being run over on the highway 
at 9 pm on a rainy cold night in January?and the rest of the proof that I had 
been on this Earth?for 40+ years?in?her trash barrels waiting to be picked up. 
Before I moved out, she used to wait til I was asleep (normally I came home 
before 2 am and was asleep by 2:03), then get a baseball bat and pretend she 
was Jerry Lee Lewis ... and my head was his piano! Ever have a beautiful wet 
dream turn into a migraine nightmare in 2 seconds? Thank God she never saw him 
light is piano on fire! Been there, done that my friend!

Yer older but wiser pal, Ferrari Bubba


-----Original Message-----
From: ken rentiers rentiers [at] mac.com
Subject: [Ferrari] Ken why DID you sell your Ferrari?




On Dec 23, 2007, at 12:24 AM, Jason Polzer wrote:

>
> Ken why DID you sell your Ferrari?

It's easy to understand. And impossible to explain, but I'll try. I  
was in love with my wife.

Love is blind, Unbenounced to me, she developed a drug habit. (Her  
brother was a musician,,,,) By the time I realized why we were  
constantly running out of money, she had become paranoid. Eventually  
she ran me off in a hail of crockery, while doing a fine imitation of  
Linda Blair in The Exorcist. I was certain she was going to shoot me  
that night for all the many imagined transgressions she had begun to  
accuse me of.

By that time the Ferrari was gone to obtain some sorely needed cash,  
despite I enjoyed a comfortable six figure income.

Denial is a funny thing, a very strong emotion. Denial is a natural  
human response when the walls are falling in on top of you. I never  
had the virus known as drug addiction, but I was in love with her, so  
I clung to my unrealistic hopes until it was no longer possible to  
hope for anything more than a clean getaway!

Eventually, sitting there by myself, at midnight, in a Hampton Inn  
twenty miles down the freeway, with one bag, two shirts, some  
underwear and my Colt .357 in an overnight bag - I accepted the fact  
that my wife and I had developed some pretty irreconcilable  
differences. As Denial turned to Acceptance. I skipped right over the  
Anger part - how can you get angry at human tragedy - my dear wife  
was now just another piece of roadkill on that long lonesome highway  
called Life.

I lost my house, my assets and most of my possessions. She gutted my  
like a fish in the ensuing divorce. But I got my life back, so in the  
end I got a bargain. I was damn lucky to hang on to the remnants of  
my practice, which is now showing renewed signs of life. My personal  
winter has passed, the first signs of spring are unmistakeable.

Now I lead a very zen kind of life. I live in a very nice place,  
nicer than many houses I have owned, but it is an apartment. I don't  
want another mortgage, or another  
lawnpoolattichotwatertankdryerpooltablecompressor. My rent is steep,  
but it's less than I was paying monthly in property taxes. In the  
closet hang only clothes I actually wear. No TIVO, no pet, no  
payments of any kind. I have one very nice car - I own it. A nice  
place in the very best part of town - in the garage of which, along  
with numerous Mercedes, Audis and Jags is one seminally red F430. I  
went to the store yesterday, at the light some guy emerged from a  
side street in one of those new Rollers the size of the USS Ronald  
Reagan. Mr.Rogers would just love my neighborhood!

So I am free to do what I want, whenever I want to. I eat when I feel  
like it. The coffee is strong: the way I like it, not weak like she  
did. I listen to jazz, and classical music. My place is studded with  
books. Travel is incredibly cheap when you only buy one ticket. And  
I'm taking much better care of myself.

No girlfriend either - I'm not easy, but I can be had! I'm still  
looking for a rich widow lady, or an affluent ex-trophy wife cast off  
by some megabucks trial lawyer. But I ain't looking very hard! This  
Christmas I will spend  with good friends, my part is to go over to  
east Houston and buy several dozen world-class tamales. Next  
Christmas will be at my sister's in Perth. Call me Baby Jesus (Hay- 
soos) for I have been reborn!

May you and all of yours have the very best of Christmases!



ken
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