Summer of Loving

“OK Ninny. Let’s take it nice and slow. You just pretend that this is your first time and just let nature run its course, OK?”

My first time with the woman of my dreams. My one-way trip down the psychedelic tunnel where I was chasing the White Rabbit down the hole, trying to catch Grace Slick in the act! Maybe it was at Winterland, or the Cow Palace, but I wasn’t one for getting horned on my most important date ever. “Pardon me sir, but do you possess a ticket to see It’s a Beautiful Day?”My paisley tie-dyed shirt must have had a hole in it, or some tripped-out dude had stolen it on my way in. Perhaps it happened at the Acid Test in San Francisco when Ken Kesey was the man to see, if your head was in the right place at the time that is. My old lady and I were grooving each other when the cops burst in. The Black Panthers downstairs caused a fight causing the rest of us to high-tail it out of the windows, before we all got towed away to Jailsville

“Hello. Hello in there. Have you been reading Rolling Stone or something? My mother was using some of the older issues to wrap fish in, but was surprised when someone knocked over our trash can and rummaged around that smelly fishy paper. All that talk about the Summer of Love and those groovy people is nothing for an impressionable young man like yourself. Especially not with that crew-cut of yours! ”

We had spent all day tie-dying our shirts in the bathtub, while waiting patiently buck naked and stoned out of our minds. I said hers was too red, while she said mine was too purple. Then we had to raid the kitchen for munchies. Wow that grass was some strong shit this time. Thai-sticks, or something like that my pusher rambled on about, but we always did have to smoke a number before he left. “No good trying to get out of that Dude, I wouldn’t want you to be disappointed if you were cheated out of a good high”.

I told her she looked like an Indian Princess, the way the light accentuated her form and all. She just laughed and took a long drag, before passing it over to me. “Don’t Bogart that joint my friend, pass it over to me…Roll another one. Just like the other one. You’ve been hanging on to it, and I’d really like a hit…..”

“You are just standing there with your goo-goo eyes, mumbling about Bogart, and wanting a hit, but I’ll be glad to oblige you with a knuckle sandwich if it’ll make your day, OK?”

“I got a freaky old lady name of Cocaine Katie, who embroiders on my jeans….”

“Look” she said slowly, as if I wasn’t following her again. “Remember when your life was simpler and a lot more boring than it is today? No. stop nodding and the like, because you really don’t know how boring it really was. You were just lost and alone, having nothing to occupy your time with other than fondling your GI Joe dolls and dreaming about the Hardy Boys. Aren’t I right? Stay with me boy, don’t go off into dream land just yet.

Then one day your luck changed. A woman of means entered your life and turned it upside down and inside out. You didn’t know if you were coming or going, and you still suffer from that first meeting today, isn’t that right? I can see it does no good waiting for an answer from you, especially when you put that goofy look on your face. Where are you this time? Bobsledding down some mountainside in Alaska again? Sheesh! I’ll bet in your private fantasies you think of some babe like me, living and loving in the back woods of Alaska, wearing nothing but Caribou Antlers and a smile! Stop smiling you Ninny. That was just a figure of speech.

The story continues didn’t it? She made your life exciting in new and varied ways, making you more of a man of the world than anyone else had managed to do. Then one day when the time was right, with the moon and the stars, we decided to seal our love by making the most passionate sex ever seen on this side of the Mississippi!”

“Applying smelling salts, or smelly socks to revive the young man lying on the grass”

“Whew. Poindexter. Was it good for you?”

She just lie there beside me, holding a small stick between her fingers as if she just had smoked a number coming from Oaxaca in Mexico. A dime bag just never lasted as long as it was supposed to, did it? I suggested hashish, but she wanted to go over to mushrooms. I said I’d rather smoke something than have to throw up to get high, but those kind of intellectual discussions always went on in our social cells didn’t they? She wanted to march on the White House to protest the war in Vietnam, while I just wanted to dig the LA scene along with the Doors and Janis Joplin.

Then she said, “We are growing apart my dear.”

Why did women always have to think so much about what made us tick? Why couldn’t we just continue on living and loving without having to talk about our feelings all the time? I just rolled over to look deeply into her stoned-out eyes one last time, pleading with her not to do us in with her political views and rejection of my mostly middle-class roots.

“Why in the world are you just lying there staring at me as if I were some floozy you’d just met in Downtown Nowheresville? Are you thinking about me in any other way than what is allowed? Come on now, Fess up! I’ll get the truth out of you if it takes me all day and night. You hear me?”

I just loved it when she sounded like Sergeant Carter on Gomer Pyle USMC. Yes indeed. It might just take us all day and night to get the truth out of me, but sometimes the way to the truth and the light, is long and demanding….

I guess, I’m in for the duration….

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