Saturday, November 17, 2012

THE HOUSE WITH PEACOCK CURTAINS

The year was 1974. I remember eating a lot of bologna sandwiches and actually liking them. Sometimes those bologna sandwiches were washed down with mushroom tea. I guess when you’re young and perpetually high, eating anything tastes great even the putrid tasting tea cut with kool-aid in attempt to hide the horrid "earthy" taste.

We lived in a small 2 bedroom house on Highway 90 in Chipley, Florida (population: approximately 3,000). My bedroom had peacock curtains. Looking back, I really think those curtains were symbolic of my life and times…loud, proud and wowed. We would fell asleep each night listening to Lynard Skynard’s Free Bird and would awake to Bad Company’s Feel Like Making Love. And in between there was sex, sex, sex…lots of drugs and a few bologna sandwiches to keep our strength up for those midnight rodeos.

We were 3 females (Carol, Theresa and I) who lived together, worked together and played hard together. Of the three of us, I was the only one who stupidly got pregnant during that era. I had a beautiful baby girl, but my life was meant for anything, but travelling down some conventional avenue. I was on the fringe teetering gracefully on the edge and there I have remained doing my own thing whatever and wherever that thing has been over the years.

Those days seem like so long ago, yet when I get together with Theresa or any old friend it all seems like just yesterday. Our lives have changed immensely over the years, but I think the more things change the more they ultimately remain the same. So in remembrance of those good old days and the people who imprinted themselves upon my life, I flick my Bic and inhale slowly…deeply until my smile glows from within and the memories warm my chilly heart.