the old-school guestbook archives
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senegal and scottish boys ~ June 17, 2002 - 11:31 a.m. strange weekend, but lord knows if I could tell you why. vehicle karma, for one. I seem to be having some serious vehicle karma lately. saturday, on impulse, I decided to go up to boulder creek. y'know, check my p.o. box, reconnect. for adventure's sake, I decided to try the "shortcut" I'd heard about, where instead of going down out of the mountains and back up, you take summit road all the way across the ridge and down. it's a beautiful drive, but involves about 25 miles of gravel road. so I got in my bus and headed out... and it was beautiful, and the gravel road wasn't too bad... but then I started hearing this ominous thunka-thunka-thunka noise from somewhere just below my gearshift. and it just kept getting louder. now, I've known for a while that my transmission had some problems. I guess I just thought I had a little longer to make it go. at the stopsign where summit hits bear creek road, I almost couldn't get it going again, the gears were just grinding instead of catching. but then they did catch, and I prayed all the way down bear creek that it would at least get me into boulder creek. because at this point it was obvious there was a serious problem. the whole bus was jerking down the road, and the thunka-thunka-thunka was deafening. if I got to boulder creek, then at least I could relax and have some lunch, check my mail, and do my laundry before calling AAA. just as I hit downtown boulder creek, at the stopsign at the bottom of bear creek road, the tranny gave up the ghost. there was no shifting, just a roaring engine and a sweaty hippie chick waving the people behind her around. after I'd been there about 5 minutes, a couple of burly mountain guys came and pushed me through the intersection and off the highway. so, stranded. but not so bad, all things considered. I hung out at the blue sun, where mo said he might know of a spare transmission I could have. ask graham, he said. you know, graham. so I kicked back for a while, and then got my laundry out of the bus and walked it across town to the mat. called clare while my clothes were spinning and chatted about her little baby francis freya and life as a new mom. strange to talk to clare from boulder creek, the town we moved to together, the town that knew us as a couple for the first two years I lived in california. wow, boulder creek, she said. I get such a strong visual when you say that. had a good talk with her, started planning my visit at the beginning of august. finished my laundry. headed to the brewery. graham was tending bar, and gave me a huge grin when I walked in the door. just so happy to see me, it felt good. we flirted and talked volkswagen busses for a while. he has two, the one he's fixing up and the parts bus. he does know of a tranny I might be able to have. or maybe even a bus I could have, with a full camping interior and a pop-top-- a "knackered" front end (he's scottish, remember), but if I had both I could swap parts around and maybe get the camper running. he dropped his phone number on the bar at some point-- "graham" it said, and "VW tranny". when I tipped him for my lemonade, later, I left my own number-- "kelly" it said, and "VW tranny and/or whatever". I sat at the bar for the rest of the evening into the night, reading the santa cruz comic news and doing the crossword puzzles, gently flirting with graham and gently deflecting the other men who came around. one of whom was a vegan motorcycle boy who offered to make me dinner sometime, but I just wasn't into it. I got sucked into watching the world cup game between senegal and sweden-- rooting for senegal, of course, and admiring the way the senegalese live in their bodies, the way folks from cultures where dancing is part of their way of life do. there is so much dance in the way they play, and the game was fun to watch. I stayed 'til close and then graham invited me to stay on and help smoke some herb he got as a tip. well, sure. figuring then I could go wait for the tow truck. so we got good and loaded, along with these two men whose energy was hard to take. one of them talked to me a lot, and it was really hard to follow his conversation. it seemed like he misunderstood everything I said. and then graham said I could come back to his house, finish smoking the pot and watching the game and crash in their spare room, if I wanted. so what the hell. talking-a-lot guy gave us a ride and came in for a while. graham's housemates were there and we watched the game and smoked some more, and the talking guy and I got into a heavy conversation. about the fact that he's dealing with melanoma that's spread to his bones. and I realized that part of the funny vibe I got from him was that he's always in some pain. but that the pain is also emotional. and so we were talking about the emotional root causes of illness, and the things he needs to be doing to heal, and I recommended yoga, and for some reason he kept talking loudly and somewhat belligerently about the fact that his mother was "a yogist", that she had travelled all over doing yoga. and it sounded like he was arguing with me, but I couldn't tell about what. and then about the 7th time he said "you don't understand, my mother was a yogist,", I told him that I wanted to be supportive but that we just kept having the same conversation over and over and I just really needed to relax for a bit. so he finally let it go, to the relief of everyone in the room, I think. and then a while later he took off. and senegal won the game, and I loved watching them win. they were so happy, dancing around the field. and then graham and I headed downstairs, and he gave me a spare toothbrush and a hug goodnight and showed me where I could sleep. and just as he was heading to bed, I asked, on impulse, if I had to sleep out there, or if I could crawl in with him. and he just shrugged and said it was fine either way. I wasn't after anything, honest. I was just enjoying that warm energy and wanting to enjoy it a little longer. and when I crawled into his bed, I realized that there is still that corner of my being that misses sleeping next to someone and craves that warmth, that sense of connection. this is a bit odd, he told me. too odd? I asked. dunno. I really don't expect anything of you, graham. and I think that helped him relax, but I also think I weirded him out, this chick he barely knows climbing into his bed because she's craving some warmth. we murmered a couple of sleepy stoned things back and forth, and more than once I offered to get up and go sleep in the other room. I am not, after all, about invading anyone's space. but in the end he rolled over and held me, murmuring sweet dreams, and I sighed and whispered thanks, realizing at that moment that that had been all I'd really wanted. maybe all I'd wanted from graham all along. a moment of warmth. the feeling of being held. woke up in morning and things were still a little strange but more or less easy, and his housemate came and passed us a pipe before we were even out of bed, making plans for breakfast-- and I thought how funny it was that I should be visiting this world again, the world of senseless pot smoking and the wasting of time. so we had a diner breakfast where the only thing on the menu I could eat were the potatoes, if I ignored how they were grilled. so, potatoes and diner coffee and breakfast with relative strangers and it was just so familiar. and not terribly compelling, at this point in my life. and I thought how silly it was, that I'd contemplated even a fling with a man so clearly wrong for me. that I'd let an attraction draw me in to something that felt like it could be simple and fun. I remembered on sunday morning that "simple and fun" sexual relationships are rarely either. and I was glad I'd been able to have that realization without going there. I'm just so picky these days, you know? I know the kind of connection I'm seeking, and nothing else seems to feel worth my time. I was deeply enjoying flirting with graham, it's true. but sometimes flirtations are meant to be just that. so I had them drop me at the blue sun after my lousy potato breakfast so that I could enjoy some good organic coffee and vegan pastry. I was feeling really sleepy and pretty drained. finally wandered back to the bus and called AAA. they took an hour and a half to show up, so I took a nap. then the long ride up the mountain in the tow truck, sandwiched in between the driver and his apprentice. sad, to watch them lower that little bus down next to my motorcycle. thank goodness that's still running (knock on wood, and all), and that it's the beginning of the dry season. because even if a transmission is given to me, it will probably be quite some time before I have the money and resources to fix the bus. back at mount madonna, I was feeling pretty spun from my weekend. that always seems to happen when I go to boulder creek, visit my other life there, and then come back. I was heading up to the farmhouse to get some dinner when I ran into some goddesses I knew who were on their way up to see amma, on her last night in the area. come with us, they said. so what the hell. we were there all night long, didn't get our hugs until after the sky was lightening and the sun gathering energy to rise. I kept crashing out amidst the sleeping folks lining the walls and curled up in corners. I ran into gaylene, a friend from antioch who I haven't seen in six years. amazing. and of course, it was beautiful. by morning, though, I was grumpy and raw-nerved and everything hurt. crashed out some more in the back of the van as we headed home. got here with time to relax and write in my diary before starting work. it's the ditch-digging detail today-- good, physical, mindless work. it always helps to ground me after the weekend. goddess knows I need it. I've tended towards long stories lately, huh? and I still haven't told you about corinna. I'll get to it.
(((rings))) |