On Tuesday, the 5th, I drove Sarah and most of her belongings, which we loaded in the now famous Rock Island moving van, up to Bellingham.  Her plan is to move in with three high school buddies, get a job and find her fame and fortune.  Unloading the van was very easy and quick as her friends were there to help out.  I was happy about that.  Her new apartment is located on the third floor of a complex which is just south of Western.

Moving her has brought up that particular time in my life.  I was so wanting to be out on my own, make my own choices - though being accountable for those choices was not high on my priority list.  In May of 1973 I graduated from Worland Senior High School.  On a Sunday.  The following morning I moved myself down to Salt Lake City to find my fame and fortune.  I am still looking. 

My first apartment was a basement studio apartment and was furnished.  My bed folded up and was stored in my clothes closet.  It was a great place and I lived there for two months or so and then moved into a shared apartment with two other guys.  John and George.  I couldn't afford the rent, $100.00 a month, on my studio so this was a way to save some money and actually eat real food.

John and George was really nice and I had fun living there.  Buying food was a simple process as any food in the house was fair game because we put all food receipts in a large jar with our names and at the end of the month we figured out how much we all spent and then evened out the bill by paying the difference.

After the first month John and I had a discussion that went something like this.

Me:  "Hey John, we should get George's rent money and pay our rent."

John looked at me and then said, "Don't you know?  George doesn't work."

Now that explained why George was often asleep when I left for work around 7:00 am.  I just thought he had a job close to where we lived and could afford the luxury of sleeping in.

Me:  "He doesn't work!!  Who pays his rent?"

John:  "We do."

And buy his food.

Thus began the downward spiral of George's and mine relationship.  George was really a nice and good guy.  He just had a hard time in keeping a job.  Nothing was good enough for George, this job wouldn't suit his abilities, this job was to far away, this job . . .  The list went on.  He did land a job for $5.00 an hour - which was really good back in those days of $1.60 an hour for minimum wage.  But he quit that job after a few weeks because it depressed him.

That is the day that I lost all my patience with George and we had it out.  I moved out a month or so later and moved on to the next stage of my life.  John and I kept in touch, but I never really kept any connection with George.  I did run into him a couple of years later and he was living in the same apartment and doing the same thing - which wasn't much.

I wish Sarah well and hopes that independence and living on her own is a positive thing.