When I escaped Las Vegas on November 3rd, 2004 i left behind my posessions in the custody of some casual acquaintences who assured me of security. In the next 30 days, the apartment was violated by thugs with a chainsaw, the residents evicted, and my property stolen — except for a few items of no significant value to theives, and a few of value they didn’t notice. At the end of December I returned to Vegas and, by an act of God, Fate, Happenstance or intervention by Tinkerbell, I retrieved those items — my gold records, writing awards, childhood photographs, and my dog. My computers, all backup disks, and almost two years worth of research interviews (audio) were gone. I stuffed everything into a storage locker on Venice blvd in Los Angeles until today when I yanked it out and moved it to my apartment here in Santa Monica. What have I got? Remnants of lost projects, fragments of fractured fruitless relationships, false assurances from the landlord at the Palms apartments that they would fix the leak, my front door lock, etc. They never fixed the leak, and never fixed my door lock until I moved out. One day after I vacated the unit, they sold the furniture I couldnt fit into the little truck that I borrowed to move my stuff. and they actually delivered it to someone at another apartment building. So much for Las Vegas.
Everymorning at 4am the fellow who lived down the road came home from work, his radio blasting Mariachi music. I had no car, so he parked in front of my apartment. The neighbors complained. They thought it was me. I received a threatening note from mgmt about my Mariachi music and my loud car. I didn’t own a car, and I don’t play Mariachi music. I visited the neighbors and got this straightened out. No matter. I was evicted as a "public nuisance" due to the noise of my car, the Mariachi music, and all the complaints. I had garnered written apologies from the neighbors, and assurances that they now understood that I was not the offender. Too late.
I found the letters from the neighbors today — "Mr Barer has never caused any problem for any of us, and we deeply regret the misunderstanding. I was his next door neighbor for seven months and found him peaceful and pleasant."
I was just informed by a collection agency that the apartment wants $1600 from me. I didn’t owe them a cent when I moved out, so why do I owe them money now? Must be because of the Mariachi music.