Memories of Laurie....

Some nights in my loneliness, when the moon is full and the wind is high in the Chinaberry trees, I will remember Laurie, this Jewish woman I knew in the late seventies in Santa Monica. A classic beauty, she had long legs, big boobs, a quick wit and a masters degree in anthropology from Berkeley. Laurie was special in every way. She didn't want roses, she wanted orchids. She didn't want to go to the movies, she wanted to go hear Quentin Crisp lecture on his flaming gay lifestyle.  She wasn’t interested in hamburgers and cokes, Laurie wanted Bombay-style lamb kebob and sweet lassis. Of all her specialness, the thing I remember most was her neck. The sweep of the line from her shoulders to just below her ears was a thing of beauty. That neck would make Nefertiti green with envy. That neck formed a perfect perch for her head and spoke of ancient Greek goddesses and classical architecture and all things glorious and eternal. After about a year, I wandered away from her. I forgot about her and the orchids and the sweet lassis, but I never forgot that neck. What a woman! What a neck!.... . Finally, my memories  will fade into nothingness, the great loneliness will kick in again and I’ll fire up Bob Dylan's “Oh, Where are you tonight?”

Comments

[Jimmy K.]

I think we all have those memories.