Snow Days and Max

It was the MLK holiday, but my office didn’t give the day off. I had a doctor’s appointment, and Tinkerbell asked if I wanted to get together, so I decided to take a vacation day.

Winter in Michigan has been rough this year. A lot of snow. A lot of cold. Monday was no different. When I got to the doctor’s office, industrial fans were everywhere. A pipe had burst. I arrived just in time for them to tell me they were closing the office and rescheduling everyone.

I headed over to Tinkerbell’s side of town early. I had time to kill, so I stopped at the mall near her house. It’s been a while since I’ve done any shopping or even just gotten out. I parked and struggled through the slush and blistering cold.

Inside the mall, the first thing I noticed was jackets and shoes strewn on the chairs near the entrance, but no people. I thought it was odd until I realized they belonged to the mall walkers.

Apparently, they aren’t concerned about their jackets. They leave them behind like guests coming to visit and then walk the mall. The retired crowd. Soon that will be me. I did do some walking, but I wanted to shop. I ended up buying a belt and two shirts on sale.

After the mall, I picked up Tinkerbell and we headed to the Henry Ford Museum. This was our plan, but she failed to mention it was a free day. It was packed with everyone who can’t afford the usual $34 ticket. Tinkerbell has a membership. A fact she mentioned repeatedly.

Still, it was good to get out and see her. She has decided to do Frankenstein’s Laboratory for Halloween this year.

Max is still avoiding telling me what’s going on until after the fact. He and his girlfriend are still underemployed. They are moving out of their apartment and back to Chesterfield. I assumed they would move temporarily in with his mom. That’s not what’s happening.

My ex is moving the twins out of their condo and back into her house and allowing Max and his girlfriend to live in the twins’ condo.

I was shocked. It feels like she is continuously rewarding Max for poor decisions. She isn’t charging them rent. Even if the condo is paid for—which I don’t think it is—there are still association fees and taxes. I will be very interested to see how long they stay there and whether the twins ever get it back.

I’d also be very interested to know who is paying the mortgage and the fees. The fact that the twins were instructed not to tell me what was happening already tells me she knows it’s wrong or that something shady is going on.

Obviously, Max and his girlfriend need help. But giving them that condo isn’t teaching them anything. Judging by the way they took care of the duplex they rented in Northville, I doubt they will take care of this place.

My harsh opinion is not well received by Max, but I don't really care. There is a pattern of poor choices that has lead him to the situation. Rewarding him will not change his behavior. Yes, times are tougher for young people today. That only means you have to be even more careful with the choices you make.

2026 Updates

I spent most of the holidays alone. I saw the boys, but otherwise I kept to myself. I did a little writing, a little LEGO building, played some video games. Solitary things. I caught myself thinking: this is probably what my retirement will look like.

I don’t plan on retiring anytime soon. Six more years, at least. There’s no reason to rush it, not with the way things feel right now. I make decent money. And once I walk away from this job, I doubt I’ll ever find another that pays the same. That reality alone keeps me planted.

Max and his girlfriend are struggling. She was laid off from a good-paying job over the summer and hasn’t found anything steady since. Max has had his own run of jobs, none of them lasting. He doesn’t want work that’s hard. He wants easy work. Something that doesn’t take much out of him.

That’s been a constant point of friction between us. I’ve never left a job without another one lined up. Right now, he’s technically a salesman for a gutter company, but there are barely any leads. I think they fed him a few at the beginning just to get him in the door. Since then, nothing.

I think they are supplementing themselves by doing Uber Eats. Delivering food to people like themselves who are living hand to mouth. 

I still believe you don’t get anywhere without working hard when you’re young. I know hard work doesn’t buy what it used to. I know the math has changed. But I also know the alternative. And it’s worse.

I don’t know that financing his decisions is helping either. If anything, it feels like I’m reinforcing the same thinking his mother has always had: someone will catch you. Something will work out. Everything with Max has slid downhill since he moved in with his new girlfriend. I’m starting to think she’s part of the gravity.

Max has always been quiet, but I have noticed a shift in his personality since they have been together. 

He wouldn’t see it that way. But in the year since he moved in, he’s left a stable job for a string of bad ones, burned through what had to be close to fifteen thousand dollars in savings, and now they’re a month behind on rent.

That’s not bad luck.
That’s a direction.

Personally, I hope they breakup. Max should move back home and get his act together. One day she is going to get tired of being broke and move on anyway.

Halloween

On Halloween, I took a half day and drove to the west side of town to see Max and spend Trick-or-Treat with Tinkerbell. When I arrived, Max and his girlfriend were dressed as vampires. I didn’t realize they were going to wear costumes for lunch, so my Willy Wonka outfit stayed in the car.

Max starts a new job Monday selling gutter systems. I’m not sure how that will go—he’s not especially outgoing and doesn’t have a salesman’s personality. His girlfriend is between jobs, working part-time at a red-light therapy business. It all feels foreign to me. By their age, I was well into a career. They still seem to be chasing dead ends.

Tinkerbell’s Halloween display was over the top—elaborate, expensive, and meticulously crafted. Each of the two hundred kids who came by walked away with eight different items: a Wonka-themed sticker pack, a light-up ring, a sucker, a disk shooter, a foam wand, a juice box, a piece of chocolate, and a pair of glowing glasses. She must have spent hundreds on those three hours.

The wind took down part of the front display before the kids arrived, but it calmed later. We stood outside from four to eight. The night was clear but chilly. Dressed as an Oompa Loompa, Tinkerbell greeted every kid with enthusiasm. Watching her reminded me of my mother—not because my mother ever did anything like that, but because of the exaggerated tone that didn’t quite feel like her. It’s hard to explain, but it triggered something.

Still, it was fun watching the kids parade through the neighborhood, their wands and rings glowing. They needed them—no parents carried flashlights. Most kids wore costumes, but the older ones from the nearby trailer park didn’t bother. One group of three teenage girls dressed like streetwalkers caught me off guard.

I’m not sure what drives Tinkerbell to go to such extremes for Halloween. I think her talents would be better suited to set design, but she doesn’t see that. She’s already planning next year’s theme: Beetlejuice or pirates. She suggested I go as Jack Sparrow. I told her maybe I’d pick one of the older characters instead.

Gaining Traction

Beyond Words picked up my essay, Shimmer for their March 2026, literary magazine. I am gaining traction just when I needed it. I have been struggling with the rewrites to the memoir.

Lately, I’ve been deep in the weeds with rewrites on the memoir, trying to apply all the feedback I’ve received. Every note has been positive, which makes it both better and harder. It’s not about whether I can write — it’s about shaping the story in the best way.

My friend Ariel, the wife of a coworker and a fellow memoirist, has been a big help. Still, I’m wrestling with the same questions every writer faces: What stays? What goes? What’s missing? And where does it all belong?

Gia seems to have left Detroit. She hasn’t shown up anywhere lately. My guess? She went back to Rhode Island to see her family before heading down to Tampa for the winter.

A couple of weeks ago, Max asked me to help him change his oil. Said his car was blowing a cloud of white smoke every time he started it. I told him an oil change wasn’t going to fix that. White smoke means a head gasket problem. He decided to trade it in for a new Ford Maverick instead.k.

Max's mom helped him get the new truck. Honestly, I would not have. It is not teaching him any responsibility; it probably strapped him with a five or six-year car payment. 

For those wondering, I will be making an appearance as Willy Wonka for Tinkerbell's Halloween display. My custom is a cross between Gene Wilder and Johnny Depp.

More Wonka

 Sunday, I drove across town to help Tinkerbell set out her Halloween display. She doesn't do a scary theme. She feels they get too many kids and doesn't want to scare them. She is really enthusiastic about Halloween.  She has been working on her creations for ten months. 

This year's theme is Willy Wonka. When I arrived, Tink was trimming back plants around the front of her condo. There is something very nostalgic about hanging out with Tink. Listening to her exaggerated groans as she pulls plants from the ground is uniquely her--like walking past a bakery and smelling cinnamon. 

"Help me get the cookie," Tinkerbell says.

She leads me to a narrow hall closet where a giant, round object wrapped in plastic is wedged. I struggle to remove it, wondering how she managed to put it in there in the first place. She reveals the cookie. It is a glossy recreation of a chocolate chunk cookie with M &M's, three feet in diameter.

We place the cookie next to the air conditioner. Then I am assigned to cover the bushes in lights and purple gauze. 

Next come giant lollipops and candy confections — a Pop-Tart, cupcake, and ice cream cone. Each with intricate details. 

Tinks boyfriend comes out to help, but he mostly stays out of the way. He knows better then to incure her sharp tongue when she is working. I don't hold back. Tinkerbell bicker good-naturedly over details.

They want me to dress up as Willy Wonka for Halloween and join them. I haven't decided yet. It is a long drive.

Dog Days of Summer

 Wild Sound turned one of my short pieces into an audio read.  You can hear it from any of the links below.

https://youtu.be/4L5kP-35FcA

https://www.wildsound.ca/videos/dog-days-of-summer

https://festivalforfamily.com/2025/09/29/family-short-story-dog-days-of-summer-by-david-pizzurro/

And That's Okay

I wished Billy a happy birthday today. She told me she’s thriving and sent a couple of pictures of her daughter—she’s adorable. I told Billie that motherhood was always where she belonged. She agreed, saying it’s given her a whole new perspective.

She also said she thinks of me often. I can say the same. We bonded through trauma, but these days our connection feels less about what we endured and more about acknowledging that we survived.

Since my divorce, I haven’t had many meaningful relationships. That’s why it matters when someone like Billy remembers me as a positive part of her story. Even with Tinkerbell, for all the chaos, there’s still a mutual respect and acknowledgment.

Gia was different. With her, I did everything right—or as right as I knew how—and still didn’t get the ending I wanted. She walked away and erased the relationship completely.

The irony is that Gia probably would have stayed longer in a messy, chaotic relationship. But I’m not built that way anymore.

And that's okay.