GARGOZO MANUSCRIPT

Carey went through a spectacular rough patch during the early 1970s.   He had quit hauling water for Sparklettes and did some world-class thrashing around while trying to settle into something new.   Among a series of false starts was an attempt to break into the movies.   He had gone to the trouble to have head shots done and was sent out to a location where they were filming an action drama with cowboys and Indians .   They had checked with him regarding his horsemanship and he had told them he’d been riding since the age of five.   However,  Carey neglected to mention that (1) it was on one of those medicated Griffith Park ponies that walk slowly in a circle with a toddler on board; and (2), that the nearest he had been to any horse since then was sitting in the grandstands at Santa Anita. The scene called for him to take his mount down a hill, then across a short level stretch before galloping down the main street of a 1880s Dodge City facsimile....

Most of my friends in high school wouldn’t call my house for fear my father would answer the phone.  My dad was unaware how enraged and belligerent he sounded because it was so intimidating no one ever had the balls to ask, “What’s your fucking problem?”  It was all a misunderstanding.  I never let on to anyone how kind and gentle my dad was because it was too much fun having them think he was a capo in the cosa nostra.  Had he known how terrifying he came across over the phone he would have been embarrassed. It all stemmed from my dad viewing a ringing telephone the same as a home invasion robbery.  My parents kept to themselves at home and never entertained a group of people in our home – not once, ever.  There were never more than a handful of times within any given year when an old friend of my parents or a couple might stop by but it was very rare.  I was perfectly happy with the situation - my friends did not come to my house, I always went ...