The Eve of the First Day of the Rest of Our Lives

Tomorrow morning, August 11, 2009, on the steps of the Riverside County Courthouse our new life begins. One life ending, another beginning. The grieving is over for the most part. All of the feelings of grief when a loved one dies, disbelief, denial, anger, acceptance, (and not necessarily in that order) we went through over the past months. And now, tomorrow morning, our land, our little building, our business will be gone.

It won't be the only property, the only dream sold on the courthouse steps tomorrow morning. There will be many others. But we are lucky, it is not our home. Tomorrow morning there will be many homes that were lived in, worried over and lost. Homes that had been paid on for years, painted and improved. Homes that were loved and cared for will be sold on the courthouse steps tomorrow morning and the next morning and the next. Homes with children living in them today and not tomorrow. Children leaving their homes, and moving on. Worried mothers and fathers, many..most, absolutely helpless to keep it from happening. Yes, we are lucky, our loss, as sad as it is, is just a building with a business. We have not lost our home.

So this is a briefing of the current state of affairs, where you are coming in on this story of Lezlie Anders and Buddy Greco. But the real story will unwind over the next weeks and months. A story of two people meeting each other later in their lives, a bit scarred, a bit weary. Seventeen years ago today, August 10, 1992, I walked off the plane in Las Vegas and two days later Buddy Greco would introduce himself to me. That is when and where this story begins. Two people starting over. Two people on an adventure 17 years ago. And here we are, starting over again, and about to embark on the greatest adventure of our lives, together.