The Peter Dizozza 1970's

1970 is the first decade to consider because it came to me as a request from a friend who was my neighbor at least until 1970. The Peter Dizozza 1970's involved much conjecture and some actual events. I imagined the physical interaction between people and I actually, in the last year of its decade, experienced it. I thought I was alone more in the 1960's and I'm willing to include consideration of my life during the 1950's (my birth year is 1958) but in general I met people and then imagined the time spent with them beyond the time actually spent with them, and from 1970-1979 my reality supplanted my fantasy. Fantasy rehashes what reality enlightens. With friends, my conjecture overlapped with the actual. As you can see from the 8mm movie, The Ruins (1970), I spent time with Edward DiMaio. This may have begun in the 1960's, perhaps 1968? He moved into the alley area with his mom. He and she were staying in her uncle's house on Dartmouth Street. He was younger than me. I had a friend older than me, Friankie, leading me into new musical realms, as well as posing dangers that I learned to recognize. No one comes to mind when I think of friends the same age as me, though, actually, my friend Maureen and I are close in age. We just did not spend much time together. More time was spent with her in my imagination and we can see on this page how suggestive that reads. One can apply suggestivity to any of my friends. I created a fantasy world for them and I would write them into a story, and sometimes even share it with them. I can't remember what we said but in effect I have writings and we can turn to specific titles. Unlikely, though, is your familiarity with them. 1970 began with our family living on Dartmouth Street in an attached house (67-113) and moving to a stand-alone corner house (69-56 Exeter Street). I haven't moved much in my life so this was big. It was also something of a dream come true because I wanted a big house. Imagine my surprise when I discovered bigger homes, but at the time, I thought I was taking over and planned to make a lot of noise. It was my house; in 2012 after the death of our mother I ultimately, almost jokingly, agreed it was not my house . It haunts me now, also in an exciting and almost joking way. The house is gone (into the past) but my dreams recur as an important supplement to my being. However awful they may be (and I do go into a state of abject dread every other day) dreams tend to be helpful. If asked I'll let you know where they appear in my work. I attended High School from 1972 to 1976 and the choice of school showed me following in the education footsteps of my cousin, Anthony, who became something of a star at the school. He was an all around great guy in the all boys sports world it offered and for some reason, it was the place for me. My younger sister on the other hand attended the High School of Music and Art, almost as a supplement to my own interests which in no way corresponded with Malloy's. Archbishop Molloy High School was where I went. I hated it and thought that was a way of being, not something to be addressed by switching schools. It's amazing to think how accepting I was while I railed and hated and steamed and fumed and redirected my frustrations into musical imaginings, meaning I listened to records and lived in the stories I imagined they accompanied. 1970 saw a closure for the Beatles, much though no one wanted to admit it. We received the 1970 release of their earlier album as a sign that they had patched their differences. What a mockery it was comparied with the weirdness of their 1969 release, Abbey Road. My return to the Beatles, after their Christ comparison, began with the release of the White Album, taking me back to the two I missed, Sgt. Peppers and Magical Mystery, which we bought together at a drug store one day returning from church. What a world they opened with our one sided stereo. Rereading this, as I thought the Beatles replaced the loss of Kennedy, I'm thinking now that the 1970 release of Jesus Christ Superstar replaced the loss of the Beatles. Anyway, the false hope of Let It Be began the 70's decade. Here I can look up the actual release date. (May 8, 1970) I went to one of those head shop stores on Austin Street to buy it. By that time I was sharing my enjoyment of the Beatles with friends for whom their music was forbidden. Purchase of their album like purchasing the woodstock album, supported the illegal drug business. I felt the concern of parents over the bad company their children were keeping when they were with me, but that opens the territory of another family history, that of the Marinos. Jeffrey Marino was a friend closer to my age, though younger, who I would see during our incogrous Candlewood Isle summers, so far removed from the alleyways of Forest Hills, as we see in our home movies. But then we moved to a big house, and whatever logistics went into acquiring that property opens another pocket world. Our house move occurred in 1970. We had lived on Dartmouth Street for a little over 10 years, formative years, the 1960's. I know we moved in 1970 when I see The Ruins movie. The scenes in the house show our first experiences there. There we start in the attic and end up in the basement after we drop the movie light and make a black crust indenture into the red nylon carpet when the light melted it. There was a year when my grandmother helped me get a better piano, a 1945 Steinway that I still use today. Was it 1974? I thought it would help my piano playing. I wrote a great deal on the Aolean piano that we moved to my grandmother's apartment when the replacement came. It had a weird dull tuning that assisted in the far away chords we can also hear in Bacharach songs, my only frame of reference. The 1970's marked the return of my own songwriting which went on hiatus as a focused on filmmaking and writing. I wrote two novels during the early 70's. I think "Why Fight It" was completed in 1969. "The Resurrection," which I wrote while attending high school classes-- I mean, I actually wrote it during class -- I completed in 1974. Then I began writing Storm Cloud and completed that in 1979. These novels require attention every time I look at them, but most recently I made PDFs of as close as I can find to their original manuscripts. Much of my time, when I wasn't writing I would edit film. I acquired a secret agent movie, "Lightning Bolt," a poor man's substitute for the Bond "Thunderball." Incredibly the various titling of "Lightning Bolt" including "Operation Goldmund," to also connect it with the prior Bond film, "Goldfinger." I spent hobby hours seriously editing pieces of film into my print of "Lightning Bolt" and some of those pieces I edited into it I acquired like from grave robbers. I took clips from whatever I could get my hands on, creating in the back of my personality, a sense of guilt. I always have a sense of guilt for some thoughtless psychotic act that I never remedied. Just from considering it I'm weighed down now. Will I ever purge myself of the guilt for what I have done and will do? Going on... My grandfather died, when, perhaps in 1972, I do remember the tremendous inconvenience of that. There was a great change in my grandmother's life, missing and not missing him, and she was a great part of my life, and our lives as a family. My grandfather, too, was important to us but there was a distance to him in that he had an entire career outside our realm of experience and it occupied him even after he retired. These are the parents of my mother. My father's mother passed away in 1956 before he married and his father, who did remarry, died in 1968. My parents, both of Italian backgrounds, came from diametrically different families in that my father was one of 6 and my mother was an only child.