Tim and a T-Bird

In St.Petersburg, Florida, early 1980s. I moved from Lassing Park to this place on Ling-A-Mor Terrace. Out back was Big Big Bayou—five minutes by water to where Cocoon was filmed (exteriors of the retirement facility. I watched from my boat). The Dali Museum was nearby and, too, The Chattaway, a beer-and-burgers joint in the shade of big oaks.

Bad things happened, an entire run of them that shut me down, caused me to withdraw from everything except my inner self.

One afternoon, in a hammock, I took a photo of myself. Just my legs. But there was no one to send it to. No one to understand.

I needed a sidekick so I sketched an armadillo because they’re crusty on the outside but not within. I made him my butler. Crusoe’s manservant Friday.

We began interacting—my hammock photo speaking to that critter, that critter speaking back.There’s a folder of cartoons somewhere. For now there’s just this one. (LINK)

Eventually after that I began writing novels.

I’m still a hermit, marooned you might say, but leaving my shell more and more—my inner self seeking its freedom through writing.