Monthly Archives: May 2016

My dad, James Whitmore, Part Sixteen

Time gets tangled here. I don’t know what came first, if it was the TV series or the strange trip down artistic deployment. I believe it was the involvement in a strange show that I helped write and performed called … Continue reading

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I’m getting a divorce

That’s right, I’m getting a divorce. 28 years of marriage. I fell in love with another woman. My divorce has turned messy. Tough go. I share this with you this morning, taking a break from my series about my dad, … Continue reading

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My dad, James Whitmore, Part Fourteen

***EDITOR’S NOTE. THAT THERE IS ONE: THIS SHOULD’VE BEEN PUBLISHED BEFORE PART FIFTEEN.** Then, there’s Sean. A conundrum for sure. He used to pound his empty formula bottle on the side of the bed in the middle of the night, … Continue reading

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My dad, James Whitmore, Part Fifteen

Now that we’ve dealt with my kids and what my dad provided for them. Let’s get to the streets of Tehran, the capitol of Iran. At the time, 1970, under the rule of the Shah. Flying in I remember the … Continue reading

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My dad, James Whitmore, Thirteen

I’m leaving India, the streets of Teheran and the ambassador’s daughter for a second. I want to talk a bit about my two sons and what my dad did for them. They are Brennan and Sean. We will start with … Continue reading

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My dad, James Whitmore, Part Twelve

I had done it. Went ahead and did exactly what I was warned not to do. I drank the water. Got terribly sick with malaria or some such ailment. I was on a houseboat on a frozen lake in Kashmir, … Continue reading

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My dad, James Whitmore, Part Eleven

What goes up has to come down, and that’s exactly what happened when I left Stockton a few years later with my tail between my legs, a drunk of the most continuous proportions, no prospects, no college credits, and no … Continue reading

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