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My father would have been 70 today. He was suppose to be the next James Dean. Really, I'm not joking.
Was almost a dead ringer for him back in '57 smoking, looking cool and definitely NOT ready for action.
I don't know if he was a good actor, but with Broadway beckoning, he preferred pool halls and heroin...
The street found me when I was a kid and I've been real hard on him, cursing him out and feeling like I
could blame him for all my problems. I got no right to be angry at him, never knew a thing about his fears,
spent most of my life running too...
No one has ever told me what happened. Some said it was suicide, others bad luck. I guess it don't matter now.
He quit getting high, got a new wife, then one day he bought a few bags, mainlined 'em, got on his motorcycle,
and became history...
