Summer 1994
The first few months back in town after the first divorce, and I am sandwiched between a singer and a surfer at the Bayshore Saloon. The singer was barefoot and broke, and the surfer was bronze and beautiful. I had huge crushes, flirting between both. We girls would fend off their constant belligerence. No fear, harmless drunken badgering, sloppy yet sweet. We would dodge them as we bar bounced, as they trailed and teased, hitting us up for rides, cocktails, or pills. I knew they did this with every girl in every bar from here to there. I have known this since the end of the 1980's. The last time I partied with the singer and the surfer.
It was at the Old Hillside on P.C.H. I was, fat, ignored, and utterly gameless. Yet I was a bride and a mother.
My Rock star husband had taken me to see his friend's band, and I was HUGE with my second pregnancy. I felt ugly, awkward. It was summer, and many were high and sandy from the beach. His friend, the Singer, was nice to me. The rest of the night, he trailed me, inquisitive, interested in our gestating marriage, teasing Rock-Star husband, offering us his drink tickets. Rock-Star husband and the Guy he smoked out with in high school laughed a lot and talked guitar shop. Guy he smoked out with in high school said goodbye because his band was going to play and Rock-Star husband bristled slightly. Guy he smoked out with in high School played his ass off, partied all night, and bagged a barefoot babe to buy his beers and drive him and his shrapnel home. Rock-Star husband also met up with many of his high school friends. We had a good time, and he enjoyed himself. They teased him for still being a longhaired Hessian despite having a Wife & kid & one on the way.
It did not really seem to have been very important then, because Rock-Star husband could not remember anyone's names. But at the end of the night, leaving us to head home rather early, Rock Star Husband dismissed it, driving away from an unending orgy of excess and excitement.
"Those guys are always gonna be getting stoned and scamming on younger chicks. We're like, what, adults now.” Rock-Star Husband bemused, his disdain forced and his dreams derailed.
They were getting too old to fuck around with the same people and underage girls. He said with a tone of contempt that they would always be resigned to play backyard parties for the price of a keg of beer. It is not as if those guys are even close to makin’ it, he bemused. At least we have a manager and a studio to practice in, Rock Star Husband thought as he stared out the window, hoping his Dad's garage and fax machine elevated his band.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Summer 2004
‘The last we heard the Queen had been dethroned,” some whispered.
Other guests were leery as to the validity of her wedding-none more than the Queen herself.
Look at her. This hasty celebration seemed contrite in light of the poorly conceived courtship. Her “Bigger Better Deal” had fallen far short of what he had offered her, and the One she still loved had called her cheating bluff as soon as she strayed. Now she was had. Stuck with The BBD. Less than a summer earlier, she crossed the line, gleefully embracing him after trading in a couple of “Best Friends Forever”. The BFF’s were bitchy, but would be missed.
(A Good BFF status is maintained by proper allegiance to ‘The Code’.)
The Code, when abided, proved one’s allegiance over the years. The Code had gleamed and glistened through weather and elements, withstanding countless sub-par unions, pacts and dalliances. Many appeals argued on the basis that an “excusable example defining commitment” had been implied, resulting in overturned convictions and reinstatements.
(The Code affords many an out, I remind you. Look it up.)
Back to BBD, of which she was betrothed. They happened upon each other frequently over the decades. He was the first love of one of the departed BFFs. #1 BFF kept him close to her bosom over the last twenty years. This in spite of her having her own husband for the latter ten.
(Now you may refer to certain key dictates in the Code, primarily in regards to generating interests in BFF’S “Don’t Touch” list. Any deviance from Code is DEVIANCE FROM CODE. Admitted. Stay with me.)
BBD and #1 BFF had quite the teen love, well funded by his adolescent income source. Most fifteen-year-old boys actually rely upon the fast food industry to earn and learn themselves fiscally, at least in the 1980’s. Yet with BBD’s charisma and high dolla’ dreams, minimum wage was minimum RAGE. Geographical location aside, BBD had been reared well and had the taste of the upper class, due to the educated palate of his parents. Ghetto bred, BBD was not only lawless, but lucrative. His entry-level marijuana sales titillated the tame yet tawdry teenage girls of which compiled his first customers back in high school. They shared first love as most do, courting and carousing.
Hence, first love. First Love is torturous and heart wringing and rarely exclusive. It is First Love nevertheless. We may all hope that love manifests into an idyllic memory over time. This was no exception. BFF and BBD held each other close over the years, literally and figuratively. The Queen was privy to their history, as well as knee deep in her own faltering true love. Fuck The Code.
How DARE her.
‘The last we heard the Queen had been dethroned,” some whispered.
Other guests were leery as to the validity of her wedding-none more than the Queen herself.
Look at her. This hasty celebration seemed contrite in light of the poorly conceived courtship. Her “Bigger Better Deal” had fallen far short of what he had offered her, and the One she still loved had called her cheating bluff as soon as she strayed. Now she was had. Stuck with The BBD. Less than a summer earlier, she crossed the line, gleefully embracing him after trading in a couple of “Best Friends Forever”. The BFF’s were bitchy, but would be missed.
(A Good BFF status is maintained by proper allegiance to ‘The Code’.)
The Code, when abided, proved one’s allegiance over the years. The Code had gleamed and glistened through weather and elements, withstanding countless sub-par unions, pacts and dalliances. Many appeals argued on the basis that an “excusable example defining commitment” had been implied, resulting in overturned convictions and reinstatements.
(The Code affords many an out, I remind you. Look it up.)
Back to BBD, of which she was betrothed. They happened upon each other frequently over the decades. He was the first love of one of the departed BFFs. #1 BFF kept him close to her bosom over the last twenty years. This in spite of her having her own husband for the latter ten.
(Now you may refer to certain key dictates in the Code, primarily in regards to generating interests in BFF’S “Don’t Touch” list. Any deviance from Code is DEVIANCE FROM CODE. Admitted. Stay with me.)
BBD and #1 BFF had quite the teen love, well funded by his adolescent income source. Most fifteen-year-old boys actually rely upon the fast food industry to earn and learn themselves fiscally, at least in the 1980’s. Yet with BBD’s charisma and high dolla’ dreams, minimum wage was minimum RAGE. Geographical location aside, BBD had been reared well and had the taste of the upper class, due to the educated palate of his parents. Ghetto bred, BBD was not only lawless, but lucrative. His entry-level marijuana sales titillated the tame yet tawdry teenage girls of which compiled his first customers back in high school. They shared first love as most do, courting and carousing.
Hence, first love. First Love is torturous and heart wringing and rarely exclusive. It is First Love nevertheless. We may all hope that love manifests into an idyllic memory over time. This was no exception. BFF and BBD held each other close over the years, literally and figuratively. The Queen was privy to their history, as well as knee deep in her own faltering true love. Fuck The Code.
How DARE her.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Random weekend recap
This weekend started around 5:30 pm, when I spent a few happy hours with my family until 9ish, when it was off to Alex’s to see The great John Doe. Held my cool as long as I could. I became superfan stalker on him by enlisting the most spectacular Shannon to broker a photo op as he left the stage.
After a few awkward moments of digital issues the image was snapped, and Shannon & I teeny bopped to the parking lot to giggle ourselves through a cigarette. She shared a memorable moment of herself nabbing a photo op with a favorite rockstar a few years back, assuring me that my shreds of cool were not totally lost.
We kissed and hugged and parted ways, her back into the show and I to the other side of town. By midnight I had joined up with Cat & Co. to see The Stymies at the Pike. We drank and sweat through a Stooge-ish show as well made nice with The young Rome, who we cajoled into returning to the Clam to jam acoustic with The young James as we ladies swirled and sang along.
Late night grilled cheese sammies, You Tube Roulette and a bubble bath as the sun rose and I took note of the night.
By noon I will be found poolside with Reba as we wring the last rays out of the summer. Come evening, when we shall slum over to the Regal Inn to get rowdy with ALLDAY and dozens of our closest friends.
It is Sunday and by 2 pm I will be celebrating birthday style in HB for Aubra’s darling son, which will also be a long overdue reunion with beloved Ladies all grown up and spoused and sobered. As well, always fun to see who may materialize from the past. Aubra's good like that with the invites.
After a few awkward moments of digital issues the image was snapped, and Shannon & I teeny bopped to the parking lot to giggle ourselves through a cigarette. She shared a memorable moment of herself nabbing a photo op with a favorite rockstar a few years back, assuring me that my shreds of cool were not totally lost.
We kissed and hugged and parted ways, her back into the show and I to the other side of town. By midnight I had joined up with Cat & Co. to see The Stymies at the Pike. We drank and sweat through a Stooge-ish show as well made nice with The young Rome, who we cajoled into returning to the Clam to jam acoustic with The young James as we ladies swirled and sang along.
Late night grilled cheese sammies, You Tube Roulette and a bubble bath as the sun rose and I took note of the night.
By noon I will be found poolside with Reba as we wring the last rays out of the summer. Come evening, when we shall slum over to the Regal Inn to get rowdy with ALLDAY and dozens of our closest friends.
It is Sunday and by 2 pm I will be celebrating birthday style in HB for Aubra’s darling son, which will also be a long overdue reunion with beloved Ladies all grown up and spoused and sobered. As well, always fun to see who may materialize from the past. Aubra's good like that with the invites.
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