Cafe Hitch-hike


Come go with me

I guess necessity pushed me to get in touch with bunch of people:

Alan: the French photographer who used to go with me to the local nude beach (it isn't as exotic as it sounds although he looks like your stereotypical Frenchman; he is a father of 5 and it's platonic). We had a very nice chat We both felt yucky at first and hesitant to speak, but we felt better afterward.

Sis Big Momma: I confirmed what I suspected. Her grown kids are jerks. But, but toward the middle of that conversation, we both felt lighter, had some laughs, and we'll be in touch soon. I don't usually give money to relatives, but I will give her a little so she feels better with the caveat she keep the money for herself.

Bernardo. Rafael. Jimbob.

My former co-worker Bernadette whose mind is always amped. Gawd, I love her. She's a delight and so witty. As it turns out we are taking the same online course.

My mentor. It's a huge relief to jump in my car and go see him. I feel like I receive a furlough from military duty. He has great espresso, I love his wild-man energy, and he always leave me with something to think of (and it usually leads me to a good point).

My Mom. My 8-year old niece.

The other thing that came out of necessity was... to freestyle. Seriously. I used to love going to the clubs when I was in my late teens to mid-20s (clubbing pretty much went out the window when I went to grad school). I didn't go all the time, but it was such a nice feeling to get a little loose and jam out on the floor. I remember one place my friends I used to go to was called City Lights. It was in an old movie theater at the edge of the town's red light district, even with the marquee above its entrance. We went because they let us in (we all were under drinking age) and it was cheap to drink (we all were broke-ass college students). They had a dance floor that revolved and an OK house band. It had a cool mix of people, ranging from the black and brown folk who lived in the neighborhood to others who didn't live there and were fine with going there.

In a revolt after reading what felt like 100 e-mails, I blasted BlackBox. Those clubbing days had music by a series of one-hit wonders and lip-syncers (like BlackBox, hahaah), but the music worked!! I did The Hustle to at least one song, and was surprised how easy it was for the energy to come out and dance again. I remembered the music, the atmosphere, and the men (oh, hell yeah to that, both to the dancers in videos to the ones in the club). I then decided I needed to learn the Electric Slide... After all, I have to be ready for my next cruise or trip to an all-inclusive, adults-only resort (whenever that will be, but it will happen!).

I also remembered last summer's big trip to Europe. I feel even more grateful that I gave myself that chance. I didn't wait on something else, I didn't use the little bit of Uncle Joe money to do something practical, and I didn't wait on anyone else. The trip wasn't an escape, it was an adventure!

I'm not thinking only of seeing Copperas again, but the whole ball of wax. I best remember being able to travel with openness and curiosity. I got to see old friends and make a couple new ones. I saw new places, and yet felt so comfortable with it all. I thought about the day where I was paddleboarding in the English Channel, then hiked its bluffs later that day, and then taking a double decker bus with a bunch of teens at 11 PM back to Glen Campbell's AirBnB. There was the morning I relaxed on the houseboat and played Bob Marley in Amsterdam, and woke up very early, watched the sun rise, and fell asleep with the all the windows open... Laughing with Copperas over a homemade spaghetti dinner over things that happened 30 years again... Circling over the English countryside while listening to The Cure's The Walk, I couldn't think of a more perfect song on the Mixed Up LP to play (followed by LoveSong). I was part-happy, part-delirious after I came back for quite some time, but damn. I just relished all of that even more.

Sometimes when I had amazing experiences, I said to myself that these were the things and people that would get me through the lean times. I have some things to keep me going now, but these memories, they are the cream in the coffee.

downwind | upstream