My Friend Harold Earl Myers, Jr. <br />By Reid Baer <br /><br />I’m in Southern California <br />living beyond my means at a <br />swanky beach resort meandering <br />around a piano player <br />performing in the open court <br />and I’m slipping through an iron <br />railing on the upper deck and <br />looking below with too much heart <br />protesting railings against my <br />nature and Mother nature and <br />Human nature when it becomes <br />heart sick with romantic trials and <br />love turns a belly sour with <br />no real goodbyes – so what’s one to <br />do when the wife leaves you and your <br />most imaginative buddy dies? <br /><br />--
