As hard as the transition to Bako has been for me, and trust me it's been hard, it's been absolutely devastating for the love of my life. He doesn't deserve this. Because you see, he's glamorous.
He grew up old school Las Vegas - we're talking Liberace, diamonds, money to burn. Rat Pack decadence in all it's glory.
And for many years I'd happily been able to help keep us both in the style to which he, and I, had become accustomed. An age gone by. The way life should be lived.
And then this shit happened.
We've lost almost everything, but still we have our priorities. Style counts for more than mental health when it comes right down to it. So he still has the diamond encrusted Rolex that was a Christmas gift in better times. So too the fur, bought on a family cruise to Alaska to celebrate my parent's 50th anniversary several years ago. That was a sight - the two of us going for a grand promenade, arm an arm, wrapped in albino Russian raccoon.
And he still has his Cadillac. Bustle trunked, carriage like. Not blinged out... that would be tacky. We don't do tacky. It's C-L-A-S-S-Y.
Living in Bako, for us both, has been, how shall we say, challenging.
So recently it just became too much for him. He announced one Sunday that he just couldn't take it any more and he was leaving...
...and came back an hour later with a cheap $29 "crystal" chandelier for the foyer from Home Depot. To shine a light, so to speak. On better times.
Glamor Will Set You Free
I love him more than I can say.
