The tragic suicide death of Rutgers University freshman, talented violinist Tyler Clementi, 18, who jumped from the George Washington bridge on September 28, after learning that images of him in a romantic homosexual act had been streamed live on the Internet, should be treated with a broader brush, not as gay bashing. To narrow the scope can imply that had the sexual encounter been a heterosexual one, it would have been appropriate to stream the video.

If "bias" can be used to facilitate more serious charges being brought against accused Rutgers students Dharun Ravi and Molly Wei, then go for it, But, don't discount the seriousness of such a privacy violation against a heterosexual.

We're in a society that likes to "mess" with people - if for no other reason than because it's "fun." Not limited to teen-age college students, those in extreme power like to do it as a show of importance and control. That can also lead to violence.

My father, a mild mannered, extremely talented, well education, functioning alcoholic, escaped serious prison time for his treatment of me - which was torture, not sex. As a small child I recall be questioned by authorities but I think I refused to provide any answers. My father was, however, forbidden to ever again be alone with me in a room. My mother, fun loving and liked by many, was the devil incarnate who never should have had children, although she wanted a boy. Had she had one, she probably would have sexually molested him as an infant. That - you gotta be kidding - nope - scenario set me up an easy mark. That's all information I spent a life time trying to hide and would have stayed hidden, had it not been for hateful people unnecessarily obtaining the legal papers, which it appears may have been obtained under false pretenses - and then failing to protect the identity of a minor which included graphic photographs.

To this day I am still plagued by people - some operating in the stratospheric heights of the entertainment world - getting a their jollies at my expense. As an aside: for anyone in a seriously abusive home situation, you have only one choice - get out. Doesn't matter what you have to do to get out - just get out, don't look back and if possible, never go back.

I spent many years in a relationship where the man was the axis of my world while he revolved around himself. Without my knowledge or permission, and deliberately kept hidden from me, was a conversation he had with a couple of his friends which apparently was a sexual bragging rights game. They turned the conversation into a letter to the editor type of personal experience which, without my knowledge or permission, was published in a sex magazine. The missive could be termed so sexually inflammatory as to encourage assault.

That would become a key element to my being a victim of character assignation and eventual violence.

Years ago in a formal legal event, I was insulted, criticized and badgered in a line of questioning that involved either the bedroom or the bathroom. The questioning became so sarcastic, insulting, offensive, intrusive, uncomfortably kinky and 'strange' that I even called for a recess to speak to lawyers, complaining that the questions were sick and disgusting, almost scary and the bedroom/bathroom barrage of questions has no relevance to anything.

I also expressed concern that my safety, if not my life, was being put into danger.

The line of questioning then changed to criticizing my correct posture and frequently sitting with my hands folded. Then the questioning entered a new direction.

For a variety of reasons I have No Trespassing signs on my property.

Again I was insulted, criticized, ridiculed and badgered about those signs, which I was told needed to come down. The attorney berated me for not wanting people on my property. He insisted that those signs needed to be removed and that there were people who wanted to know me better. I didn't act friendly.

Then I was questioned as to whether I had ever had any self defense training. I was asked if I could defend myself.

An odd, off-the-wall line of questioning. Made me wonder if I was being set up to be physically attached. Interesting speculation, since not too long after the legal issues went away, that is exactly what happened. Unfortunately, I didn't see his face or recognize the arms that grabbed me from behind.

The consequences will remain with me forever.

Pete Mikla was a former Las Vegas newspaper reporter who held himself out to be a press agent. His roster of clients for their Las Vegas performances was impressive, including Frank Sinatra, Jr., who was the lynch pin, name-thrown-around, that enabled Mikla to obtain clients.

Press agents have a unique power in an industry that is unregulated. Anybody can call themselves a public relation's person.

Mikla was an emotionally needy person. He was likable but a schmuck. He bragged that in high school he had dated the most popular girls and didn't hesitate to describe that the "most popular girls in the school" would always go out with him when they were having their periods. He'd say he was the Period Man. Asked if he thought he had been used, he became defensive. He felt that as the Period Man he was part of a social circle that otherwise he never would have been invited to join.

As a PR man he used celebrities to validate his own existence. Only he resented, and in some cases actually despised and wanted to hurt, the very people who supported him - Frank Sinatra, Jr being the main target. Mikla idolized the famous crooner while taking money from his son as he betrayed him. Sinatra, Jr. was both loyal and complimentary to Mikla. Both the loyalty and compliments were misguided.

Sinatra, Jr. wasn't the only client that Milka used and abused.

Mikla became obsessed with me because I reminded him of a relative of his who, in a good sense, was his go to person while he grew up.

I found him an annoying nuisance who had to be tolerated because of his profession.

He once invited me to participate in a family ocean cruise. I declined. There wouldn't have been a cruise ship or ocean large enough. On another occasion he asked to borrow money. I declined. He told me I'd regret rejecting him.

I was kind to him until the day his died. When he was in a hospital dying, his parents hurried to visit him. It was Mother's Day and Mikla adored his mother. I actually went to the store and bought a Mother's Day card and flower so he could give them to his mother when she entered his room.

I attempted to attend his funeral. Greeted by a large Frank Sinatra photograph, coupled with Frank Sinatra music playing, you would have thought it was Old Blue Eyes being eulogized. I found it so disgusting that I turned around and walked out, but not before I argued with a mourner that instead of setting up a Frank Sinatra tribute, they should have thanked Frank, Jr for all he had done for Mikla. I was wrong in picking a fight with somebody who was grieving, but I did receive assurance that the younger Sinatra would be thanked.

Mikla has been dead for 11 years. I wish more than anybody that he was alive, so that I could be at his sentencing hearing. He should have died in a prison, not in a comfortable hospital bed.

If I knew then what I know now - and that's the problem. A legal system that protects the wrong people.

I've been stalked and harassed by several individuals. While Mikla was just a small player, frequently used as an intermediary, he was paid to do his tormenting, skulking and stealing - including, I now have been informed, of conversing with and receiving money from my sexually chatty ex-what-ever and/or his representatives.

Referring back to being legally questioned - Mikla was one of several people who provided inaccurate or seriously misleading "information." Others are just as guilty. However, at the moment, it's Mikla in my cross-hairs. He contacted my elementary school classmates - individuals whom I have had no contact with in any manner since 6th grade and that was during the 1950's.

Some were promised money - others trips and a party - if they would agree to "help" with information about me. In turn they'd have an all expense paid vacation to attend sort of a Friar's Club type roast, in which I'd be the guest of honor. They were asked to think of anything about me that would embarrass or ridicule me and then exaggerate it because that's the way roasts worked.

He attempted to illegally access medical information. Mikla falsely identified himself as my brother or husband, of which I have neither.

Mikla also stole my garbage, my divorce papers and a pre-1920 ticket to a rained out baseball game in Ebbets Field, one of two pasted inside my father's scrapbook. I confronted him and he denied the theft. Shortly after he died a relative of his sold that baseball ticket.

PR people have special power. They can be the removable barrier between the performer and the reporter. That power can be used professionally or it can be a Mikla.

It's an interesting character study that people don't experience the nagging of a guilty conscious and begin to confess (to help makes themselves look better) until they feel they are no longer in jeopardy of being held accountable. When people - and some of the names being supplied are recognizable to the masses - get a kick out of messin' with somebody and that causes violence or a loss of income - there shouldn't be a statute of limitations. Nevada also has a two party consent rule that telephone conversations - even if they can prove the plotting of a crime or, for that matter, are exculpatory, can't be used. That is wrong.

The days of ink to paper have turned into instant video. Instead of a long, drawn out character assignation, the result can be immediate suicide, such as that of the young man who should have had a bright future. That's wrong.

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