“In 1967 I packed my family into two black automobiles, with no air-conditioning, the larger of the two pulling a U-Haul trailer. When we left Oklahoma City it was spring, the flowers were blooming, the elms were at their greenest. We took one last look at that carefully trimmed front yard and were soon on Interstate 40 which was still being constructed. Two days later we found ourselves by the side of the road. It was summer at its worst.
The brakes on the newly rebuilt Corvair were falling apart. (The car had spent three months in the Automotive class at Northeast High School in OKC.) As I began my self taught lesson in brake reconstruction, the Ford overheated. How is that possible? The engine wasn’t even running. And apparently springtime in the Valley of the Sun was observed at an earlier time than those of us living in The Great Plains.
By sundown I had resolved the Corvair brake mystery and the Ford was cooled off enough to add antifreeze and water from one of the containers brought along for drinking.
We lived in a mobile home the first few days in Phoenix and quickly found a nice roomy apartment near Encanto Park
When I started this story I had a memory I wanted to share. I spent so much time in laying ground that I forgot what it was. Perhaps I’ll remember tomorrow.”
Okay, so I don’t remember the end of the story. I can create a fictional ending but that isn’t fair now is it? This was after all, a memoir. Or should I say memoir noir. I suppose I could make a quick scan of the last four or so decades. In fact I like that idea. So, let’s give it a go.
The first decade includes divorce, marriage, divorce again, collecting some additional hours on campus, establishing Valley Staging Company, Inc., and beginning a succession of retail stores, all of which bore the name Lee Broom this or that. The second two decades focused on marriage again, divorce again, re-establishing my retail presence which was abruptly interrupted by divorce, co-founding with the cooperation of a female business colleague, what would become a well known, highly successful Children’s Theater in Scottsdale, AZ and subsequent ouster by what turned out to be another irritable female. I wrote a musical, promoted the musical, scrapped the musical. I built a radio broadcasting presence which continues today. I was and am a popular volunteer radio host for SunSounds of Arizona, a not-for-profit public service for the blind, and I was a still yet more popular radio host for a couple of for-profit radio stations which failed to make any profits whatever and so are a part of a history remembered by few.
In late 2008 the stock market stumbled, tumbled and began to crumble. Like the fall of the Berlin wall the rubble of failed business scattered the streets. Unlike the poor metaphor however, freedom was not the reward except for those few miserable self-defeating souls who suddenly had reason to shout with self righteous anger “It isn’t fair.” (I’m certain to post about this eventually.)
Within a year, six blocks of Scottsdale art galleries had failed. Those properties are still largely vacant. Having already left the Scottsdale Art District, working from home as an Art Dealer specializing in second market, hand-pulled lithographs and an eclectic variety of other valuables I did not suffer the loss of millions as did many of my colleagues. The art market has not improved. In fact very little improvement in the financial ills of America has emerged at all. America’s capitol has simply changed pockets. Apple has given the world the power to rebel and has amassed unbelievable rewards because of it. And I have revived a skill they I developed during my retail years, during which time I wrote dozens upon dozens of successful press releases for my businesses and I am blogging daily and writing a series of books with a shared title and individual subtitles.
So, that’s it for today. I apologize for not remembering the ending to my previous post and who knows what tomorrow will bring. I can tell you this much; there will be change and lots of it.
PS: Three years ago a business acquaintance of mine captured my name as a dot.com. Months later my internet presence was replaced as leebroom.com. My work history and reputation as a designer of interiors, original furniture designs and picture framing techniques, now belonged to a different Lee Broom in London England. My friends kid me about the possibity of an unknown tryst; this young man looks very much like me at age thirty. These are the friends who did not know the story of my adoption. Perhaps it was coincidence. Perhaps a business blunder was involved; perhaps something worse. But as a man with decades of business experience, I know how to start a new career and succeed, even in times like these.