are talking all over. Nobody can believe the news.
because my little story has a lot in common with the tragedies
of the day - obsession, misplaced love, the lurking specter
of drugs. We both even end up in court. On the same day, if
you can believe it! Of course there are differences.
one, the news is real. I'm
just a cartoon. Another is that I can tell you
the truth. That's me with the cheese burger and that's my
famous Westside, Democrat, Feminist lawyer pinching some of
my fries as we discuss my case at Barney's.
some case. A Single, non-relative male, suing for custody
of somebody else's child. Basically I'm trying to get custody
of Mat from
his Mom, Rachael.
Counsel says it's a slim bet. May have to go all the way to
the California Supreme Court.
suspects my motives. Before she would even take the case,
my lawyer insisted on a battery of psychological tests to
make sure I wasn't some kind of chicken hawk or worse. It's
okay. I just want to be Mat's dad and I don't want to have
to marry his crazy Mom
to do it.
thing is that I'm not really fighting Rachael, She's out of
it, lost on the rock. She doesn't know what's going on. In
fact, she doesn't even show up most of the time. I'm fighting
the system. Ain't that always the case?
seems to think Mat would be better off in a foster home or some
other institutionalized nightmare than with me. I've become
a minor cause, as if it were the paternal instincts of males
on trial or some assault on the myth of Motherhood.
Well, let 'em rally.
know is that I came down to Los Angeles from Berkeley drained
and empty. The idea that I might want a child was the furthest
thing from my mind.
at me, all tied up in affidavits and depositions and happier
than I can ever remember.
it that I never seem to know what's really good for me? It
took Nina's Art to turn me on to the truth Nina's
Art Nina makes Art with people and I am
her latest masterpiece. That's probably the real difference
between me and the headlines. I have Nina's Art, her magical,
musical chairs of family and friends which placed a little
five-year old named Matthew
in my life.
a little punk who started by stealing
my best pen and ended up stealing my heart, has
given me the best truth, that best purpose in life, not get
love but to give it.
I was downtown filing my case, I saw the media circus goin'
on at the other end of the corridor. I start thinkin' to myself
about friends, values, demons, drugs and how you'd work all
that into a trial.
the truth? Who's really guilty? Maybe I can't tell you the
truth after all. Maybe I can only tell you my truth. I don't
know. I'll let my lawyer handle it.