Spent my days with a woman unkind:
Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine.
Made up my mind, make a new start,
Goin' to California with an achin' in my heart.
Someone told me there's a girl out there
With love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.
This was turning out to be the most prophetic song of my life...
About May of 1979 my cousin Joe came to visit from California. My Uncle Bob was getting married and two of Joe's good friends were getting hitched as well. For a few years Joe had been after me to move out to California with him but I never felt the time was right. With nothing but dead ends in front of me, I had finally run out of reasons to say "No". Save one: no money. So we're driving around one day in my cool 1964 Ford Custom 500 and Joe says "Give me one reason not to come with me."
"How about 'I'm broke'?"
Cousin Bob has been snoozing in the back seat, but he springs up and says "I'll give you the money". Bob and Joe had come into a small inheritance recently and Bob had so far blown most of his on cocaine. It made him really popular with all kinds of new "friends". Bob gave me $1000, which settled my debts and gave me the working capital I needed to get on my feet. Now it was getting real. Man, I am going to California! This had been a dream of mine for years, ever since I read The Call of the Wild and Other Stories as a kid. I called my roommate and told her I was bugging out. She was cool about it and told me she was coming up to clear out her stuff.
The fateful day came, all my stuff was packed in the Ford. We stopped to fill the tank and buy some mean-ass mirrored sunglasses and hit the road.
Memories
I was really going to miss Virginia. The good friends I had made like Bill, Dave, Scott and Cliff. The wild, hedonistic times in Scott's basement, where we drank, smoked, had assorted (and sometimes interchangeable) girlfriends, and where Dave showed us how to light our farts. Never did try that one. I loved the soft Spring returning to the frozen land, and people going batshit on the roads on the first good day. I had gone to school from third grade through college, with mixed results. I flew kites out in the field by my house and we played ball there, too. My family was all here which was also a mixed blessing. I would miss my sisters most of all. Leslie was a great person to party with, having a vivacious love of life. Lori was my intellectual foil, so easy to talk to and my best audience when I played the guitar. Outside of Joe I knew nobody on the West Coast. Hell, I didn't know anyone west of the Mississippi! This was going to be a big leap.
The Trip Begins
Before we left the Greater Washington DC area, we had to do a couple of things. First we went to Uncle Bob's wedding. Three things stand out from that: 1) Just after Uncle Bob and Rita exchanged vows, they looked into each other's eyes and a tune swelled up from the boom box. It was "For All We Know" by The Carpenters. Did you know that that song is actually 97 minutes long? It sure seemed like it as we all sat or stood in a frozen tableau while the tune dragged on endlessly. 2) We finally got a shot of the "Three Cousins" in an older incarnation.
And lastly, the weird way the night ended. We went to Leslie's apartment to catch a post-wedding buzz and got back into Bob's car for the ride home. I insisted on driving, since I knew the road better. Maybe when I was sober, but that didn't apply here. About three miles from Leslie's place I took a turn too hot and the car leaped off the road, over a ditch and smack down on top of a large rock. I turned off the ignition and looked over at Joe.
"You OK?"
"Yeah, you?"
"Yeah. Bob, you all right back there?"
"Hm? Oh. Yeah, I'm OK. Sure."
Joe got out, tumbling to the weeds because the car was about three feet off the ground due to the rock. "Maybe you can back it off. Try starting it up."
I turned the key and the engine made a noise like a chainsaw low on oil. Nope. That's not going to work. We got out of the car, dusted ourselves off and started down the road. I had left my shoes at Uncle Bob's place so I was barefoot. We had gone about 100 yards when Joe asked: "How far is it back to Alexandria?"
"About 10-12 miles."
"And how far back to Leslie's?"
As if we had choreographed it, the three of us turned on our heels and started back to the apartment. Along the way a small pickup truck pulled up next to us. Inside were two prison guards from nearby Lorton Reformatory. "Does that car back there in weeds belong to y'all?"
"Yeah, hey can you guys give us a ride to my sister's place? It's just a mile or two up this road."
The guards looked at each other, burst out laughing and drove off. Thanks. We spent the night at Leslie's and got the car towed the next day minutes before a cop drove by looking for the wreck. Close call!
Another Prophesy
One more wedding to go. Joe and I threw on our casual suits and had a great time. These two were our age, and most of the time was spent drinking. At one point we went out to the parking lot for a bit of ganja, staggering back into the hall in time for the tossing of the garter. I wandered around until Joe said "Hey, tall guys in back" and pushed me behind him. The groom leaned over the bride's leg, slipping the garter down, down. Suddenly his hand flicked over his shoulder and something flew right at my face. I put my hand up to block it and the garter hooked neatly on my thumb. Whoa! "Hey, that means you're going to be married next!" said Joe. Right.
Time to Go
We hung out at the reception for a while but both of us were ready to leave town. Knowing that we had a long drive ahead and were both pretty wasted from the wedding, we spent the night on the floor at somebody's house and took off next morning. It was a beautiful June day, with Joe at the wheel and the Ford flying down I-95 from DC to Norfolk, where our farewell tour would make its last stop. I felt very wistful as the breeze blew back my hair, me leaning my head against the passenger door. I wanted to feel the wind on my face, so I stuck my head out the window like a dog would. I turned around to look behind and my cool mirrored sunglasses whipped off my face and tumbled into the road. Before I could tell Joe to stop the car a following semi obliterated them with a tiny crunch, and they were gone. Crap. $7.95 wasted.
We got to Norfolk later that day and spent the next few days seeing old friends and frat brothers and going over to Virginia Beach. We saw the Blue Angels doing some amazing feats, including wrapping up a cloud with colored streamers! As I swam in the warm surf I couldn't help but think that in just a short time I would be splashing in the Pacific Ocean for the first time in my life. The day we left I tried to call Mary, why I just don't know. I called the "Mary Jones" in the phone book and a guy answered the phone.
"Uh, is this Jones Construction?"
"No. Who the fuck is this?"
Click.
OK, it was a stupid idea. Maybe I just wanted to tell her that I was going to be OK despite her crappy treatment of me. But that story was over and we had to go. A party was planned that night and Joe and I drove around town, trying to remember the directions. At about 9PM we were having no luck and without the benefit of cell phones or MapQuest or TomTom we were shit out of luck. As we swung onto the main road again, there in front of us was a big sign that said "I-95 South, Right Lane." Yes, it was a sign that was a sign. One look between us and my bro' and I were southbound.
Chapter 29: Joe and Ed's Stoner Adventures on the Road
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