It's Gotta Be A Flame If You Want To Feel The Burn.

"I need to believe the heart on my sleeve used to be bleeding, but now all my blood's run dry.."

I found a letter the other day when I was digging through a box of old photos, and it struck my interest very much so.. I've decided to try and type it so I can read it more easily. It's scrawled in sloppy cursive and addressed to my mother, and depending on if my assumptions are right -- and I will get to those later -- then my eyes have been opened a little wider. Here is my attempt to correctly copy it: (April 10, 1982)

Dear Kathy,

I'm here at work. Tough job I've got. I've got to sit here in the game room and that's it. I've been partying quite a bit lately. I've got to slow down a little. Last night, a friend of mine tried doing a back flip off the hood of a car and landed on his knees and face. He's got two cracked knee caps. They operated on him this morning. At the emergency room, they emptied his pockets. He had five grams of coke, four joints, and over four hundred dollars in his pockets. The sort of flipped. I've only got three more weeks of school. I'm not sure what I'm going to do this summer. I might move to the coast or to Connecticut. I'm anxious for warm weather. Did you get a foot of snow last week? We did. I was stranded out at school for the night. All the roads in Waterville were closed. I can't wait 'till I can ride my bike again. I spent seven hours just cleaning it and oiling it last week. It's the only means of transportation I can afford right now. I'm planning on making a lot of money this summer (hopefully). I want to buy more camera equipment. The tuition costs at school here are going up from $4000 to $4600, cheap school egh! I get into computer technology next year. This year was just preparatory for next.

Everyone here is doing well. Really not much going on. Mike should be getting out of jail next weekend. -- Party --Hey, why don't you and Danny save a little cash and come off to Maine this summer. We would have the greatest time. It wouldn't cost you much money once you're here. Think about it. Take care.

Love,

Kevin ?

I can't make out the name too well, though I'm almost sure it says Kevin. If this is the same Kevin I'm thinking of, then oh wow. Many things lead me to believe that it is him.

1. "Uncle Kathy." Kevin is my cousin, making my mother his aunt. The obvious..

2. The part about his bike. I don't remember much about Kevin, but I do remember how much he loved to ride his bike, and how he got an arm injury because of it.

3. The age fits pretty perfectly.

4. Kevin & Maine are synonymous.

It just all leads me to believe it is him. But, if that is true, it is also a little sad. I dislike knowing the ones I care about are, or were, involved with drugs. True, that is how the time period was for a long time.. But also, I just feel an overwhelming sense of disappointment. I looked up to Kevin.

I emailed Aunt Nancy asking for his email address the other day. I got it, messaged him, and got a reply. Then I rambled on and threw in a question asking if he ever called my mother Uncle Kathy. I am still anxiously awaiting his reply.

On a lighter note, he had some jokes written at the bottom of his letter too. They're dumb Polish jokes, but never the matter, I'll post them on here too:

"How do you get three Pollacks of a couch?"

- Jerk one off and the other two come.

"What do you call a herd of masturbating cows?"

- Beef Strokinoff.

"Why do they Bury Pollacks face down with their ass sticking out of [the] ground?"

- It gives their friends a place to park their bikes when they come to visit.