Wednesday, February 5, 2014



Temecula, CA – Not every story making the rounds is about Richard Sherman, the collapsing Broncos who appeared to have just finished a blunt before running out of the tunnel, Obama’s fantasy TPP, or even those teed-off Orange County Monsanto Freedom Fighters. Surprisingly enough, this story won’t even feature a 420Nurse or a word about marijuana. 

This is a story, no, an opinion about a story going around uptown, but it could and does happen anywhere. The difference here, as with the ones who get away, is this one concerns someone both rich and smart, and renowned. His name is Allan Stewart Konigsberg but he is more acclaimed under his professional name, Woody Allen.

Recently toward receiving yet another showbiz honor, his adopted daughter through Mia Farrow. 

Dylan Farrow released a letter that began:

“For as long as I could remember, my father had been doing things to me that I didn’t like. I didn’t like how often he would take me away from my mom, siblings and friends to be alone with him. I didn’t like it when he would stick his thumb in my mouth.” 

You can read the full explicit content at a link after the jump.

At the heart of this current story is the fact that a minority of people believe Dylan even to this day. 

After reading the letter I thought about two other females, women now, who were molested and what they had to say about their experiences.

One of the women was my wife, well ex-wife, the witch. Besides a loving being and good mother, the last ex had anger issues, had mood swings, and was controlling, never wanting to take any advice. But that was then and she has grown a lot since those days we were together. She shared some of the mean spirited ‘signs of affection’ the step-father would do, like dumping her asleep onto the floor from the couch.

The second woman is someone I met in the music scene. Finding out that I am a writer, the young woman shared some poetry and asked for my feedback. Thinking that it was something flowery, I accepted the sheets of lined paper and brought them home. The next day I decided to review them before the next show in order to have an opinion ready.

As soon as I started reading the first poem I knew I was reading someone who describing waiting to be molested. It was told from the kid’s standpoint and in kid logic and thought. I was floored. Reading one poem at a time between tears, I reported back several days later.

“Your poems are very powerful and vivid. You are that boy, aren’t you?”

She just looked down. 

“Here you go. I have your poems to return.”

“No. no, you keep them. I know where to come and get them if I need them.”

The conflict over to whether to believe Dylan, an unknown, or Woody Allen, a respected and honored movie star and author can be resolved over reading the letter in this link

I read it, and for me, my story title says it all. 

Good-bye, Annie Hall

No comments:

Post a Comment