Location: United States
Member Since:
March 19, 2019
Scott Curtis
Biography
Scott Curtis is the pen name of a popular American author whose books have sold millions of copies. He is a graduate of UCLA and was a teacher for many years. He is happily living in Thailand and Florida with his Thai wife of 15 years, a lazy dog, parents (hers) nearby, lots of friends, a big garden, a second-hand bicycle he rides around a nearby lake, and a 6 year old niece who comes by every day to play with him.
My story: I'm a glasses-wearing, slightly overweight, grey-haired, balding, average-looking 69 year old guy. I'm no Don Juan. In fact, I'm a little shy. I'm not rich, though I have high hopes of winning the lottery someday. Maybe I'm a little like you...
.
If you ever see me in Thailand, I'll probably have a big smile on my face. You see, I won. I went from vegetating in an old age home in America to living my dream in Thailand. I got everything I ever wanted, but could never find or afford in America.
I had no trouble meeting and marrying a beautiful, delightful and peaceful young woman. She loves and accepts me in a way I always hoped someone would. She's made my life a dream for the past 15 years. If the Buddhists are right and I get to come back and live again, I want to do it all over again with her.
I live like a king on a laughably small budget. By the time you read this, I should be living like a king on Social Security. My wife and I eat out most days at the finest restaurants- it's so cheap, why stay home? My favorite restaurant has a lovely patio overlooking a lake, where we enjoy dining while a violinist serenades us. The bill for the two of us is usually around $11, plus a buck or two to thank our server and the violinist.
We own a fabulous 3-bedroom mansion, the floors made of various types of fine granite. It would cost millions in California. I built it for $60,000, about the price of a garage where I come from!
My life wasn't always like this. After I was given my walking papers by my first wife in Texas, I moved to California and gave up the small publishing company I had started. Not much money was coming in anymore and I had stress about finances as California is an expensive place to live.
.
Further, I found that women had changed since the last time I had dated. The kind of pleasant, cooperative woman I wanted- like the girls I knew in high school - just no longer exists in America. Instead, I went on computer dates with women who seemed mostly interested in how much money I had and what kind of car I drove and did I own or rent? Nobody seemed interested in me.
.
To be fair, many had themselves been in bad relationships. And now they were like detectives, trying to find what was wrong with me. I was miserable. And lonely. I kept getting told I was too old for the women I was attracted to. After awhile, I stopped dating altogether.
I went to live with a therapist/friend I'll call Shane in Laguna Beach. He gave me a hard massage table to sleep on and a small nightstand in which to put my possessions. After a week, Shane took the nightstand back, saying his daughter needed it. I had to store my things in a garbage bag in the closet.
After a while, I moved in with my parents, who were quite old and needed some help; I needed a place to stay. There, I slept on an uncomfortable blow-up mattress in the living room. My neighbors in their retirement community were all in their 70s, 80s, and 90s, and soon I started feeling like I was too.
.
I was overwhelmed by the responsibility I had taken on, and as the months and years went by, I felt crushed by the experience of caring for them, especially when my father developed Alzheimer's. I let my friendships slide, and became numb to life as I did my best for them. In 2004, they died. I had died long before. Although I was finally free in theory, I found myself still stuck in their old age home, nothing happening, every day the same. Depression had left me feeling always tired, frozen in time, in a sort of living death.
.
I realized I simply could not go on like this. I began reading "Feeling Good" by Dr. David Burns. That book convinced me that I was in a downward spiral, and that, although I was no longer young, I had to get out, I had to try to realize my long set-aside dreams. It seemed so unrealistic at the time, but out of desperation, I decided to try to find a new life- and maybe even love- in Thailand. It was an idea so crazy, it just might work!
My story: I'm a glasses-wearing, slightly overweight, grey-haired, balding, average-looking 69 year old guy. I'm no Don Juan. In fact, I'm a little shy. I'm not rich, though I have high hopes of winning the lottery someday. Maybe I'm a little like you...
.
If you ever see me in Thailand, I'll probably have a big smile on my face. You see, I won. I went from vegetating in an old age home in America to living my dream in Thailand. I got everything I ever wanted, but could never find or afford in America.
I had no trouble meeting and marrying a beautiful, delightful and peaceful young woman. She loves and accepts me in a way I always hoped someone would. She's made my life a dream for the past 15 years. If the Buddhists are right and I get to come back and live again, I want to do it all over again with her.
I live like a king on a laughably small budget. By the time you read this, I should be living like a king on Social Security. My wife and I eat out most days at the finest restaurants- it's so cheap, why stay home? My favorite restaurant has a lovely patio overlooking a lake, where we enjoy dining while a violinist serenades us. The bill for the two of us is usually around $11, plus a buck or two to thank our server and the violinist.
We own a fabulous 3-bedroom mansion, the floors made of various types of fine granite. It would cost millions in California. I built it for $60,000, about the price of a garage where I come from!
My life wasn't always like this. After I was given my walking papers by my first wife in Texas, I moved to California and gave up the small publishing company I had started. Not much money was coming in anymore and I had stress about finances as California is an expensive place to live.
.
Further, I found that women had changed since the last time I had dated. The kind of pleasant, cooperative woman I wanted- like the girls I knew in high school - just no longer exists in America. Instead, I went on computer dates with women who seemed mostly interested in how much money I had and what kind of car I drove and did I own or rent? Nobody seemed interested in me.
.
To be fair, many had themselves been in bad relationships. And now they were like detectives, trying to find what was wrong with me. I was miserable. And lonely. I kept getting told I was too old for the women I was attracted to. After awhile, I stopped dating altogether.
I went to live with a therapist/friend I'll call Shane in Laguna Beach. He gave me a hard massage table to sleep on and a small nightstand in which to put my possessions. After a week, Shane took the nightstand back, saying his daughter needed it. I had to store my things in a garbage bag in the closet.
After a while, I moved in with my parents, who were quite old and needed some help; I needed a place to stay. There, I slept on an uncomfortable blow-up mattress in the living room. My neighbors in their retirement community were all in their 70s, 80s, and 90s, and soon I started feeling like I was too.
.
I was overwhelmed by the responsibility I had taken on, and as the months and years went by, I felt crushed by the experience of caring for them, especially when my father developed Alzheimer's. I let my friendships slide, and became numb to life as I did my best for them. In 2004, they died. I had died long before. Although I was finally free in theory, I found myself still stuck in their old age home, nothing happening, every day the same. Depression had left me feeling always tired, frozen in time, in a sort of living death.
.
I realized I simply could not go on like this. I began reading "Feeling Good" by Dr. David Burns. That book convinced me that I was in a downward spiral, and that, although I was no longer young, I had to get out, I had to try to realize my long set-aside dreams. It seemed so unrealistic at the time, but out of desperation, I decided to try to find a new life- and maybe even love- in Thailand. It was an idea so crazy, it just might work!