abridged from the

My Autobiographical Life Series Vol 2:

The Backside of Water

“In this crazy Game we call Checkers 

Trefologists are the Kingmakers!”

GTR

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page two

As a child Our Founder was abandoned by his parents at Disneyland & raised by automatonic wolves. For forty days & for forty nights GTR has been telling us this story. It changes each time but its a good tale & must be taken on faith.

“To know life one must have lived life & not yet be dead, because then you’re right back where you started from, yes?

I have always been right in the center of life with a capital l. & friend, you can take that right to my bank! Few people know life as well as I do. Especially in regard to things that are specific to me.

Yes, Mr. Bones, I can still recall that fateful trip to Disneyland. It was the Winter of 1974 & Anaheim was experiencing a unseasonably ginger snap with temperatures dropping into the mid ABCs. My father was in Los Angeles looking for extra work in radio dramas. Things were tough all over America. The dead littered the streets. So did the living. My mom eventually found a job working day shift as a production head in charge of hiring at CBS. My father, tho, was never able to find work in radio. He tired to take his own life by drinking a whole box of Sleepy-time tea, but only managed to make himself pee for 75 minutes straight. If only he had not done so in his sleep.

I am fortunate. Due to some genetic thingy between my parents, I was gifted an eidetic memory ¹ I can recall every moment in my life perfectly with perfect Visiosight. ² The sky was purple. My windbreaker was sea-purple. Even my skin had a purple-ish tint. I recall the corners were a bit bent & the sun was hitting my memory just so that I can’t really make out anybody’s face. I can see dad was wearing stripped socks, tho. 

Now I was not a paranoid child, not professionally, but by about mid-afternoon I could tell something was awry. My parents kept looking at me in a suspicious manner.

My fears were later confirmed when, as we were exiting Frontier-land, my father became agitated.The same way he would when he suspected we kids had been reading his Archie digests.

Suddenly my dad pointed toward some shrubs & said, “Look, son, isn’t that Johnny Whittaker?”

When I turned to look my parents ran off. I never did see them again.

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page three

Not until about twenty minutes later, when I saw them entering the Adventure Thru Inner Space ride. They had a boy with him that looked a lot like me. Same smile and hair. Same pimpin’ clothes. Same tap shoes. I called out to them but in the din of the crowd they could not hear me. To this day I still ask myself, why did I have to be so close to the din?

Tragically, for the three of them, & for us,  the Adventure Thru Inner Space ride was shut down permanently. That same day. & before my parents ever had a chance to return to their normal size & exit the ride. 

Eventually, ATIS was torn down and replaced by a county fair ride.

I never did get to see Johnny Whittaker.

I had only one authentic joy during those years on my own. Often, just before dawn, I would walk over to Main Street & sneak into the Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln show & watch him set up.

I could sit there for hours watching Lincoln rehearse a new hand gesture or way of standing up from his chair. i recall that once President Lincoln noticed me sitting alone in the theatre and gestured for me to come over.

When I got nearer he stood up from his chair, and gestured again to move in closer. He had a secret, or so I thought. I leaned in close. Lincoln peeked at his notes, gestured at them with a rigid finger, & read me the Gettysburg Address.

It was beautiful moment. One only for myself. I will always treasure the times I spent with Old Abe. His wife was sort of funny, in an odd way. But a wonderful kisser. But, that my friends, well, that is a whole other story. 

GTR

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page four

TREFOLOGY – JOIN US WHILE WE STILL WANT YOU

¹ Eidetic memory is to-day largely referred to as one who possesses a photographic memory. The earliest known example of someone displaying signs of a photographic memory was in 1840. His name was Matthew Nemerov. Matt, as they called him, knew almost nothing & was considered an idiot by many. But it was 1840 & photographic processing was still in its moronic stage.

With Trefology processing one can now reach the Eidetic-like state of TorK (Totality of regular Knowledge)