WOMEN, CAN'T LIVE WITH THEM AND CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT THEM

My all female team of surgeons. In reality, I might not be alive today...so I can't live without them.

In one giant step back, I equate my career working as an undercover agent to something like being the headliner in a large theatrical production. With any good production, theater or undercover work, a joint effort from many supporters is required to successfully navigate the operation. I got the kudos and the glory when everything went right and my bosses didn't end up in the funny papers, but I didn't necessarily get all the jeers and blame when things went south. 

The women I am about to tell you about, are ones that I couldn't l live without, but spent enough time with, that I felt like I lived with them.

I learned the ins 'n outs of the money-laundering trade, when a couple of women from Miami came to Los Angeles in the early 80s, and began operating a major drug and money-laundering operation. What I learned from these women, while I laundered $24 million in cash from their drug cartel contacts, was a free education in drug trafficking and money-laundering. A kind of a "How-to for Dummy's" book...bet that book would still work today.

Wildly popular with the media, they dubbed these women the "Grandma Mafia" when the case went to trial. When the "Grandma Mafia" cased ended there were bodies strewn everywhere. I couldn't tell the good guys from the bad guys. A federal agent, turned rogue, met a terribly painful death; federal agents that went to the dark side for money were prosecuted; a prominent Los Angeles attorney was prosecuted and went to jail; crooked cops and agents in Miami and Los Angeles popped up; and eventually a couple of ex-Federal agents committed suicide. ON PAPER THESE WERE THE GOOD GUYS!!

For the most part and physically unscathed, the bad guys and girls went to jail.

So who cares? I'm sure the families of all those people cared. Those naive family members that said, "you want me to put up how much for bail?".

I know my doctors care because, they're asking for answers as to why I transformed myself into the Marlboro man with a gallon sized appetite for Red Label scotch.

It's Valentines Day and I'm now a week past my first chemotherapy treatment. I don't want to scare my Valentine, so I'll probably go over to a corner, reach down, grab a root and growl...softly. I live with her and most of all, I can't live without her!

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