Monday, May 22, 2017

STUPID IN LOVE memories for (me!) sandra, tvgp

i asked one of my young co-worker friends recently,  -she is 18 i believe,  "have you been stupid in love yet?   i mean, like..   stooopid.  "    -and i could tell write away from her expression, she has not.


but for all of us who have been, that's all you have to say:  stupid in love.   and that is short cut to..

things like:   collecting/keeping things like..   oh, your library card... i want that.  oh, a lock of hair...   oh!   a picture of you from when you were younger..

and, not only did i receive and read and enjoy his love letters to me, but...   i memorized them!  word for word..   i could recite them even when the letter itself was at home, and i was somewhere else.

and, i'm glad i have this one picture, because..   that's (me!) on the recliner at my grandparents home in san diego, and my paternal grandfather on the couch... but the thing i want to point out, is on the table next to me...   the colorful, towel-textured fabric

that is Michael Jackson's  -robe.     yes,

the singular thing that puts the stupid in this love, the true symbol and qualification..     i carried that robe around like a toddler carries a blankie..

his scent.   it was on it.   i wouldn't wash it...

  -k.   I'm laughing write now, as i write this from age 51, but..

i was not laughing then.  i was madly, completely, utterly, crazy and stupid in love.

and that was his real name:    Michael Jackson.   my first true love.    /not to be confused with my first boyfriend, that was steve shaw

but my first true love:

and see how this cerebral hyperlink to my stupid love got triggered.    the cover of this vendor magazine that crossed my path..   see the resemblance...

Michael Jackson was GORGEOUS!  SEXY!    who would not go under his spell

and i went back recently, to the bus stop where we first met in Hayward.   only the bus stop is no longer there.   it sat on calaroga avenue, in front of medical offices, near saint rose hospital.  

i was alone waiting for the bus...     because, in this regard, i was a responsible teenager..  probably getting myself back and forth to a part time job, or other parents house,  i don't remember where i was headed

i only remember..

a tan, very good looking male with red short and no shirt went jogging by...


and then,

after he passed me by, and we never made eye contact...   to my memory, he was looking ahead the way runners do, and i was looking out, waiting for the bus..


i did notice him.  i mean, ...


then, next thing i know, he started running backwards and passed me by again, and then forward, and then into the bus stop with me..

and he was gorgeous, and friendly, and easy to talk to...    and,

i have a feeling my friend sue-sue has even better memories than my own...   she saw me go under his spell..

but, i just remember then finding out he lived near mt. eden high school, and i met his family and friends, and learned he was pretty fresh out of the marines..


i was 15 years old, and he was...    22 or 23...

so obviously did not fly well with my parents...  who had by this time, already learned they gave birth to a very willful human being


we dated, and we..

and he was my first, as the euphemistic expression goes...  

and i have funny stories about that, which i will link** at a later date.

i have to get to work..  and i sure wish, rather than calling in sick, i could call in  -inspired

and just keep writing,



**   later date:

     -from an unpublished/draft of a post from 10/24/2007:

anyway, whole thing got me to thinkin' about my sex life. i share here, the very private thoughts i had after the first few times i shared my body with someone i loved:


vs.   first orgasm:

suddenly i understood everything. i mean everything. every. thing:

unwed mothers, teenage boys, marriage, divorce, infidelity, capatilism, bankruptsy, good, evil, drugs, alcohol, time and space, quantum physics, over-population, the universe and God. everything to infinity and back was revealed to me during those 13 spasms and few seconds.

everything in the whole wide world, imagined and real, made perfect sense.

from retarded to genius, just like that.



i was stupid in love for the first time.     and some of the results of that love include

        -becoming a pregnant teen.

        -running away to santa monica with pocket knife, and change stolen borrowed from my dad's 3 gallon water jug on the greyhound bus   [now, ive searched my blog archives, published and unpublished.. and how can it be I have not written about  -running away to santa monica... but maybe sue-sue can remember for me...  /my dad certainly remembers...  and my mom....and my brother (?) who came to the rescue...]

/yikes.. please forgive.  I made it sound like the water jug was on the greyhound bus..  you know what I mean.. yes?  with change I took from the water jug my dad used to collect his loose coins..     that is how I bought my ticket for the bus ride to go be with my one true love...

and then,   Michael Jackson related posts

dreaded dream post

partial premonition

phone number on red paper


In Jesus..  definition of loves'   name,    amen!


At 9:44 AM, Blogger I have a Black Dog, and his name is Depression said...

I remember very well. Chrystal clear. Etched permanently into my brain lol.
Although I was against it because I thought it was dangerous and not in your best interest....i drove you to the bus stop. Larry was performing in Danville and your Dad would be there. It was my job to break it to him after the bus was on the way to Santa Monica. A terrible position to put me in, I must say. Your Dad did what any Dad would do...he FLIPPED out. He had no patience to listen to my regrets. He wanted his daughter back NOW! Oh those were such drama filled times. I'm sure it was a very exciting time for you. I remember the jist of our conversations and your energy. I wanted to be happy for you, but at the same time I worried sick for you. I knew it was out of my I had to trust in God and ride it out.
I think ultimately Larry and Glenn drove down to So. Cal to pick you up. Oh boy your Dad was so angry...with you, with Michael and with me.


Post a Comment

<< Home