FARIES WEAR BOOTS and a FRIDAY FABLE

If you are not a true Black Sabbath fan, you won't realize the title of my today's post is the title of the song the boys are singing up there.  I'm afraid that's the only place in this post that you will find fairies in boots.

Although I can tell you my favorite true fairy tale!  Yay!

The fairies names were Lance and Michael Boom-Boom (I kid you not!) and they were flamers!  They were also Bliss's friends in the way back machine of Miss Bliss' life.

This was the month of November  (Lord help me) 

and the place was smack dab in the middle of California.  November 16, 1971 to be precise.  Allow me to take you there.

Cue in on the state and turn the knob until you can see a big red turn of the century two story house that was called The Big Red Barn on Peralta Way.  This is the home of one delicious Miss Bliss who is... if you dial that knob a bit more... sitting her pretty little ass in the middle of the stair case waiting.  She is sitting there singing this song:

It is the only song that Miss Bliss can carry off... because she can't sing on key to save her lost soul.

Her soul was tarnished at this time as evidenced by the red eyes of a dedicated pot head birthday girl.  Can you see them?  She is like many California babes in those days dressed in hippy trippy clothes, clogs and of course the required seed bead necklaces en mass.  Big silver hoops hang from her ears and tickle her neck amid dark longish natural curls. 

Miss Bliss is excited.  A knock comes on the door... it's Tye-dye, Lance and his too young to be legal lover, Michael Boom-Boom.   As a favor, the Medusa has agreed to remain upstairs and out of their hair... this favor cost two joints.

Tye-dye is wearing the fabulous antique Chinese robe and dress that was handed down in her family.  She is tall and has Peggy Lipton style long blond hair.  Miss Bliss thinks that she is stunningly gorgeous in this get up.  Lance, a lanky redhead is dressed in flirtatious hip hugging bell bottoms, a silk shirt and completes his outfit with a woven sash tied at the side of his hip.

Michael Boom-Boom... and yes we called hm the whole three names...is something to see.  He is short and stocky.  His blond hair is cut like the Dutch Boy you see hanging out on paint cans.  He has Neil Young mutton chops that are brown.  His nails are painted bright red.  He's wearing a flowery blouse... probably his mother's... a leather and medallion choker on his neck and snug jeans.  Clogs peak out from under his pants and heavy chest hair burbles out the neck of his blouse.  His face is made up like Freddie's when Queen was into glam.

 Gee... I never really thought about it before but Michael Boom-Boom looked like a blond Freddie!

They eat a lovely Chinese food diner at the lion footed table that lil' Miss Bliss used to hide under for comfort... and drink enough saki to add a good buzzz

to the grass glow.  None of them have one fully functioning brain cell between them but they are happy and in a great mood to celebrate the profound event of Miss Bliss turning 17.

Lance is the oldest.  Somewhere close to 25.  Tye-dye and Michael Boom-Boom are both 16.  They have a surprise for Miss Bliss... a secret mission!  Yippie!

Off they trot to the car and mysterious location.  Before take-off Lance and Michael Boom-Boom kiss.

Miss Bliss giggles at the thought: Love The One You're With, then looks at Tye-Dye and immediately cancels that idea.  But it makes her laugh harder.  Hey... pot really does make you stupid.

Bliss watches life on the main streets... the cars and people walking around.  In those days, you could smoke a joint in the open and not get into trouble, but paranoia made you hide them anyway if you saw a cop or if a car slowed down.  Bliss giggled at a group of college aged kids doing that very thing as the car turned into a suspiciously middle class suburbia.  Who did they know who lived in this area?

They curbed the car next to a normal looking house.  Warm lights glowed in the windows and several other cars were parked around.  Miss Bliss was very curious now.  What did we have here?  She listened for music and heard none.  Not a party then... hummm.

Inside the house a normal enough looking living room for the seventies... gold shag carpet, avocado tones, big bottomed amber lamps and lots of people...

a notably mostly white crowd.  This was a Buddhist meeting.  Too freaking much!  Bliss tried hard to keep her plastic smile from cracking into chuckles.

The meeting began and a man pulled out a guitar.  He strummed it and began to sing... and please forgive my spelling on this...

"There's a meeting here tonight, there's a meeting here tonight, Rama, Shaka, bukoo there's a meeting here tonight!"  He then quickly pointed his guitar neck at a girl and said "What has Buddha done for you today?"

The girl wiggled with joy and popped to her feet.  She was in fact, the only Asian person present.  

"Well this is so great!  I wanted to go to this concert but I didn't have the money and so I chanted on it and I got a $50 tip!"

Yay!  Yay!  Yay!  Everyone is mighty impressed and the man with the guitar starts his little song again and points to another fellow who shared a similar story of good fortune after his daily chant for some material thing.

Bliss loses herself in the absurdity.  I mean... didn't Buddha give up his worldly goods on his search for enlightenment?  WTF?

A brief lesson on chanting followed.  It sounded something like this:  "nommohoranggaykeeoh" with a humming undertone.

A new man stepped forward when the guitar and testimonials ended.  He looked like somebody's dad.

This was the evening's speaker.  Bliss and her birthday buddies were all seated on a long orange sofa.  The man looked straight at them and asked this simple question:

"How do you know that the sofa you are sitting on is really THERE?"

Miss Bliss, Tye-Dye, Lance and Michael Boom-Boom all looked down to be sure that the sofa was indeed THERE under their collective fannies.  The room erupted in laughter.

"Thank you." said the man, "For making my point."  He  then launched into a "What is reality" sort of lecture.  Too much big thought for Miss Bliss's head.

Afterward the birthday party was moved to end the evening with dancing at a gay bar.  No one bothered to card them.  And though it was an odd experience, Bliss and Tye-Dye danced together... since it was unlikely that any straight guys would belly up and offer and they had a strange but fun time.  It remains one of Miss Bliss's very favorite birthday memories... albeit, a foggy one.  Tye-Dye, feel free to correct me on any issue.  Just an episode in the theater of the bizarre that often entered into Miss Bliss's life.

So today's question should you care to answer it:

What was a favorite bizarro memory of something that occurred in your life?

FRIDAY FABLES

Once upon a time, long, long ago… Miss Bliss had yet another birthday… though at that time the number was still small…19. Life was good. She was in a relationship… a hard won relationship where the guy had been the prize. The contest had been between her and her dear friend, who shall be called Assassin… and in fact would later continue that friendship using that as her friend’s name in communications… calling herself, aptly, Asylum on each note she signed. Let us say that for a time she felt that she had gone insane.

The contest for the guy had been simple. They had both adored him… swooned over him for over a year. The unattainable mystery man who had perfect pitch and a musical recall that was divine. He could hear a song once and then sit down and play it. Did that in fact one day… the first time either he or Bliss had heard Over the Hills and Far Away. Sat right down and played it back for Bliss on a 12 string. But my mind wanders… He was much sought after and avoided being tied down. What do you do when you both like the same guy? Well, we decided that the first one to get him to kiss her would win. The other would gracefully back off and let the other have him. Yeah… right.

Bliss never thought of herself as competitive. She was for the most part very giddy but otherwise laid back… took great joy in the odd things that she could find to do. By odd I mean, well… strange. As Gonzo the Muppet says “Silly’s bad, weird is good!” (though not for years after this). You could not find a more mellow person than Bliss, who avoided drama like the plague. Crazy was okay too. As long as it was fun and no one got hurt. No more dithering… you have the back ground and a healthy foreshadowing of the issue here. But only part. Let us call this man… GMan… for guitar man.

GMan had a 57’ Chevy Bellaire. What a great car! All through Ananda year GMan drove them around in it… Assassin was always first up front, so Bliss rode in the back usually alone. Wrote a poem about that too. Bugged the piss right out of her! Revved that competitive spirit right up to overdrive. There had to be a way… Yep, heaven help the unwary. Bliss was a creative gal who could bide her time and remain in the back seat only so long. One night she got her chance when there was something that the Assassin’s mother said she had to attend. Hee hee. (Give that a good evil tone, will ya!)

Sorry again… no details. Let us just say she won in a very devious (deviant?) way. Hee hee. But all is fair in love and war and the lines had been drawn. Bliss won the prize… and gloated horribly. Assassin for her part seemed to take it well and took a giant step back… waiting for Bliss to fall flat on her face, no doubt. Bliss would have been lesser person had she lost. Indeed. But Karma has a one hand clap for those who dabble in arrogance!

A few weeks later, they learned that Steve Miller, King Crimson and someone gone from my brain cells were to play at Filmore West. It was decided that the four of them… because the Cuckoo was always present as GMan’s best friend and something odd else. (Give him any role you wish.) But he was crazy about Bliss. It was decidedly the most odd of relationships between the four of us… all attempting to manage to stay together while jockeying for positions. Still it made things awkward at best and Bliss was more than willing to ditch Cuckoo for the concert.

The plan was to stay at GMan’s friend’s home, Walnetto… then to manage to locate and visit the Cartoonist (Okay if you have been a reader here long, you should be able to figure that guy out.) who had moved to SF to their group’s dismay.

It should have been a great time. Bliss triumphantly tossed her backpack in the Chevy and took the front seat. It was hers now by right. It was Assassin’s turn to be in the back alone.

There they were outside the Filmore West. As the line moved up slowly, it became obvious that people were being searched. Hummmm… it was Bliss’s birthday and she had a full lid in her purse. How good could she be at getting in with it? Too public to stash it quickly in her underwear…She accepted that challenge and failed! The police were busy busting a guy in the line next to hers when it happened. HOLYMOTHER F****** S***! She was certain that she was about to see what the inside of SF’s jail looked like. But never to be held back, she put on her best sad look and the attendant took pity on her… stuffing her glorious full lid into his tiny drawer at his search station and told her to get inside quick. HA! No jail tonight!

But I’ll lay money that the attendant had a great buzz later. Small price to pay.

The relief she felt was enough for her to shake it off… there were lids and they were cheap in those days. Daddy always gave her money… the pot business was thriving… and at concerts things were always passed around. Life was still good. The birthday magic was holding firm. She was inside and she was safe. Her assumption held true. Joints were passed around as they waited for the music to begin, each gal sitting on either side of the prize. Their excitement increased and they chatted happily.

Then she was telling her I-almost-got-popped-story… because Bliss cannot resist a story telling… to a nice looking man in the row ahead of her… including the fact that it was her birthday… what a day to lose your lid! No hidden guile here… she was after that fatty the man was smoking. Gentleman that he was NOT, he passed it to her. She took a few good lungs worth and passed it on to her fella. He passed it to the Assassin. Then it was quickly passed back. GMan was whispering something to Assassin. Never mind, thought Bliss… no problem here. Her confidence swelled like a banana fish. Damn but that was odd tasting pot… but wow… her mind was exploding… and she accepted the joint back with eager anticipation of better explosions to come. The not a gentleman smiled wide at her. She grinned back and he nodded at her to keep puffing… so she did.

“Would you quit smoking that shit!” GMan demanded. HUH? She hit again and again.

“Bliss… STOP! ITS DUST.” He shouted. Puff, puff… dust? Puff, puff…HUH? OH!” She handed it back. The not a gentleman nodded at her to keep it. She shook her head and said she had had enough. Right about then things got weird. A band came on… the house lights dimmed and Bliss was tossed into the music.

At some point, the need to pee made it’s way into her not very conscience mind. She told GMan, who passed that problem on to Assassin, who rolled her eyes and made a snorting sound, stuck out her hand and hauled Bliss off to the ladies’ room… at least that was what was supposed to happen. Walking was a problem. All of SF had managed to tilt to one side and it was as if Bliss was on a rolling ocean liner. This made Bliss have a terrible case of the giggles and she began to sing… quite badly… Thirty Days in the Hole… and lost the Assassin about when she hit the words… “It takes a dirty whore and a rolling dance floor to give me my release…” as the ocean liner drifted off somewhere without her. Bliss was afloat in a sea of bodies and music. She used her hands along the wall to keep herself upright.

Then she arrived to semi-alert in a strange place. There were very few people and she still needed to pee like a race horse needs to run. But where was she? Confusion set in, so she did what she could and stood still… a dangerous balancing act on no a high wire. A rather concerned looking god in overalls came up and peered at her face… asked if she was okay. She croaked out “no”. He nodded and found her a chair. She sat… and confessed… “Some guy dusted me. I have to pee.” Ah… the silver tongue! He nodded again, took her by the hand and led her to a nice little private bathroom. He, who was a gentleman, waited outside.

To this day Bliss cannot recall what happened after for an undetermined interlude. But she may have seen Robert Fripp walk past and glace her way. He may have been someone else. And there were others who just sort of accepted that she was sitting there quietly trying not to fall out of her chair… in awe. It was a bit foggy back there. No brain cell activity was firing. Then the good stranger in the over alls returned to ask how she was doing… and Bliss dared to stand up. He asked if she thought she could make it back now. She agreed that she could. He steered her by her shoulders to a door and all the sound returned… music, the ocean of people. Gentleman that he was, he asked if she could make it back again. Bliss thanked him profusely and started forward. But he caught her elbow and called to someone… who came to look at Bliss’s ticket stub. A furry man, a short man. He smiled and led her back to her seat’s row, pointed and left her to crawl across the knees to sit at last next to GMan. Safe again.

Who knows how long that ocean voyage had lasted? Time had lost its grip for Bliss, but she was content to be where she belonged. How long could it have taken if the Assassin and GMan had not thought to come looking for her? Talk was impossible at this point, so she leaned back in her seat to enjoy the show.,, though time and awareness both eluded her. When King Crimson hit the stage, she perched on the edge of her seat… trying to see and compare with the foggy memory if that was indeed Mr. Frip. The strangeness of the music carried her mind away several times… poor girl never did figure that out for sure. So she let it lay at rest.

This night, Michael Giles, the usual drummer was absent. In his place was Bill Bruford… an amazing drummer from Yes… who began an awesome drum solo. Bliss peered at the man who was spinning as he drummed… the whole drum set spun with him. It took her a moment to get that this was part of the act. It truly was spinning. He was wearing overalls with no shirt. Bliss considered this carefully and tired harder to see him. She looked at GMan who was enrapt with the music and looked back again. Could it have been the man who was a gentleman? Bliss will never know. So much for the glory of being high. In all honesty, she could not see or think straight for a good amount of time. The one thing that she is sure of is that Greg Lake, was there to sing.

As concerts go, it was outstanding. Bliss was sort of aware again by the time Steve Miller played and enjoyed that very much. But angle dust has some odd property that makes a person behave in a strange manor… Bliss became royally pissed on the ride back to Walnetto’s over absolutely nothin. This anger made her stew something terribly and she was not a kind person to be around. By the time they got there, she was in a snit, pacing and being generally the worst company possible. Both the Assassin and GMan tip toed around and left her to stew.

Then the worst thing in the world happened for that moment in time. GMan told her that he wanted to screw the Assassin. One tiny bit of information that was way too big for her brain. He asked permission! Permission? Ha! What an idiot! So Bliss screwed her face up and said “I guess that’s up to you.” Then she marched over to her sleeping bag and zipped herself in tight.

The Assassin broke Bliss’s poor angry heart and he did too. Turns out he was not much of a prize after all. The mission to see the Cartoonist fell in the wake of her silent wrath. They loaded themselves into the Chevy… Bliss purposely set her livid self into the back seat alone and spoke only when spoken to… simmering on high. They returned to Bliss’s home because the parents were out of town. Cuckoo was there waiting… a fact that further fueled the fire behind her slitted eyes. Soon after she would pitch the biggest meanest fit of her life… and throw every one out to the last man.

That was it for GMan. He made the wrong choice. For her part, I think that Assassin felt really bad. I know that GMan did. But hey… you make your choices in life and you have to live with the consequence. Including Bliss’s for not screaming No in his face. Yet then, she might not have met the Esq. who was her fiancée for a time… until he made a bad choice too… and she made another by stealing the Esq’s best friend and nailing him to the cross… becoming a wife… sealing the door on Miss Bliss. Goodness but Bliss has made some poor choices!

But then she would never have had the wonderful children she did… and that was the best choice she ever made. But Bliss is back and relatively happy. An end to one thing and the beginning of another. And so it goes.

I guess the moral of this story is best summed up by Heroin Bob who wisely told me

"Drugs make you stupid."

What a horrible birthday from hell. I possibly had the opportunity of a lifetime to meet some very high quality musicians and was too high to enjoy it. I lost big hunks of time that I have no idea what I did or did not do... chunks of time like missing jigsaw puzzle pieces. I was betrayed by the two people closest to me. Yikes.

I hope you all have a wonderful weekend. I will not be at my box on rocks. I'm off to a turkey pot luck. It should be an interesting adventure. I haven't been to meet anyone's mom in a long time. It's a strange experience for me. But that is fine... I still enjoy odd things... new things. Wish me luck.

Now here is a bit of music for you to enjoy, please do!

KING CRIMSON - Epitaph

GIMME SHELTER / FRIDAY FABLE

This is the original with Merry Clayton... the best version. All the ladies who sang this part were great, but Merry is THE voice.

This is a long story, if you want something short... this is not the time or the place you are looking for.

Once upon a time, long, long ago… when Tye Dye was Miss Bliss’ sense of safety and security… a trip began with a trek to a Quick Stop Shop, which was the result of drinking a plastic shake from B K. At that time B K was proud to produce non-dairy milkshakes that had a chewable vitamin taste which was disturbing and were served at a somewhat creepy room temperature.

Bliss thought she was going to gag. Cotton mouth was the motivation behind the trip to BK for rescue and relief. Instead, they had a new mission to seek out relief at the Quick Stop Shop. Bliss was tilting her had back and letting the Dr. Pepper roll down her throat when the clerk squeaked out “Hey… you wanna buy some blotter?” Tye Dye and Bliss looked at each other and smiled, then in a sublime Ester Williams impersonation, they turned… Bliss to the left and Tye Dye to the right… circled around to meet in the middle and walk like a bride and groom to the counter to peer at what the clerk was offering.

A green sheet of construction paper was lifted from under the counter. It was divided into a grid. Within each of the small squares was the face of the Mad Hatter. They were two dollars away from paradise. Behind them a car pulled into the lot. Four dollars hit the counter. The clerk pressed a tiny envelope into Bliss’ hand.

“Be careful, you can absorb it through your skin.” He whispered.

Time began it’s rapid march soon after. To Bliss it seemed that Zu and Ef’s house was empty one moment and jumping with people the next. It was a funny little house, old with odd crannies and doors that were not well placed. Every room was full of happy people, beers in hand, talking. Bliss did not care for beer, so Zu insisted that she make Bliss a cup of tea. Zu leaned close and shouted “Be careful…” as she helped Bliss to curl her fingers around the handle. When Bliss looked up, Tye Dye was gone, replaced by E who seemed to be interested in the conversation they were having, though for the life of her Bliss could not grasp what had been said.

Her fingers were distracting. They felt warm. Over warm. Down right hot. Perhaps on fire. She shifted the cup to dangle from the tips of the fingers of her opposite hand. Looking at the burning fingers, she saw no sign of damage.

“Is this hot? I mean too hot?” she asked E. He reached out and felt the mug. “No.” he said. Trusting him, she slid her fingers back into the mug handle and ignored the burning sensation that must have been imaginary. E wandered away when Tye Dye returned. The burning sensation was worse. There were some things that the imagination can do that are not comfortable. The Mad Hatter was making it so. Bliss set the mug on a table and moved away from it, putting Tye Dye between herself and the excessive heat.

Time spun. When Bliss was next aware, she and Tye Dye were deep in animated conversation. Two guys standing near by watched them openly. Bliss and Tye Dye flashed smiles at them and continued to chatter.

One guy said “They act like they’re on acid.”

The pair swiveled their heads and said “We are!” laughed and turned back to their conversation, with electric smiles pasted fast to their faces. The conversation then turned to how funny it was that the guys had known. (Duh... they were higher than kites! Giant pupals... plastic fantastic grins... manic.)

Bliss was standing on the porch watching Ef and Tye Dye cross the street holding hands. She stood on the top step… there were only three… and watched them. They looked happy. Neither person seemed to feel the creeping sense of doom that had begun to crawl up Bliss’ spine. The night sky was colored by the weird pink incandescent light of the security lamps that loomed high above the run-off reservoir located in the lot at the opposite curb. The air was hot. Cobweb clouds stretched over a brown sky back lit by a three quarter moon.

Bliss told herself to get her brain in right… do not let the eerie feeling wreck the high. She pushed off the steps and ran across the street to clutch at the chain link enclosure that surrounded the run-off depression.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Ef said and gave Bliss a little squeeze. Bliss stared into the dip, wanting to find beauty. Instead patches of darkness and twisted brush sat silent. In the middle was a deep patch of black that felt hollow. Bliss searched it and found fear. It burbled up from the soles of her feet and boiled into her brain. When she turned to tell Ev that she was afraid, he and Tye Dye were gone. The distance between herself and the door with it’s bright patch of light creating a beacon was impossible. Bliss froze.

The door burst open and someone nameless pitched down the steps to hurl into the bushes. Bliss seized her opportunity to launch for

the house, run up the steps and back into the safety of the light inside. One lone man looked up at her, his face a question mark. She knew him. It was awkward. He was Tye Dye’s ex. Bliss knew that Ef and Tye Dye were interested in each other and that was where Tye Dye had vanished. Hummmm….

“Party’s over.” SB said as he leaned down to pick up an empty beer cup. Bliss just stood there. There was no way in hell that she was going to go back outside into the night and face what had frightened her… the sound from the hole across the street.

The screaming from the hole across the street. The Well of Souls. She knew that was exactly what it was but was not sure what that meant. Only that it needed to be avoided like a siren’s song.

“I’m afraid of the dark.”

She said at last. SB turned to assess her honesty. After a moment he nodded then continued his work. Bliss joined in to pick up. When they finished, he led her to the kitchen and sat her at the table. When he offered her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich she agreed but was not at all hungry. Eating slowly would give her time to figure out where she would stay. SB pulled a notebook from his back pocket. He asked her questions about how she felt or for opinions, then jotted notes on her replies. When he finished, he closed the pad and stuffed it back in his pocket.

Oddly enough, his behavior and the questions did not bother Bliss at all. SB was like that. He studied things. This was normal for him. Normal felt safe. But there were anxious thoughts. The people who lived in this house were funny about food and did not share. Who’s food was she eating? Would they be pissed off? The peanut butter stuck in her mouth and throat. She asked for a drink of water, certain she was going to choke. He complicated things by giving her milk but she accepted it because she’d heard that milk can help bring you down if you are not having a good trip and gulped it to avoid the owner of the milk should he or she walk in and catch her drinking it. Behind it all she could hear that sound… the wailing from across the street and the hole in the ground… the well of souls…. The siren’s call. Bliss covered her ears with her hands. SB stared at her. She attempted explanation.

“Come on..” SB led her by the hand to the living room and sat her on the sofa. It was a dreadful thing… pink, prickly with hair. SB left the room but quickly returned. “Lay down.” He ordered as he flipped open a beach towel. A cat leered at fish in a bowl. He carefully covered her up and apologized that there were no blankets or pillows. SB walked to the stereo and stacked some records on the stylus… a Rolling Stones record dropped down first… Let it Bleed, then quietly retired to his room, telling Bliss that he would leave the door open in case she got scared... he was right there.

That was the only bad experience that Miss Bliss had with acid. She managed to hang on to the edge of being okay. But I cannot properly describe the feeling of anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her for most of the evening. At the time Bliss was unsure of SB’s motives but she was equally unsure if the cat on the beach towel was real or part of the print. In retrospect, he was pretty amazing for a guy who had never so much as taken a puff of pot. The notes he took were on answers to his questions. What was her favorite food? What bands did Bliss like? Was she cold?

You can see that he did whatever he could to make Bliss comfortable and to help her feel safe. Bliss thought he was studying her like an experiment. He was in fact, just trying to help. Miss Bliss cannot say that she had a true “bad trip” but this one was close enough that it ended her fascination with acid. She is also aware that it was the kindness of SB that probably kept her from stepping over the edge. The thing she remembers most about him? He liked trains.

Which brings us to this: The next album that dropped from the stylus was Grand Funk Railroad’s Survival. It starts with a narration by children about God... you can skip to 1:24 if you want to avoid that.

Grand Funk Railroad - I Can Feel Him In The Morning

A final story foot note is that the cup that was so hot was truly scalding. E was playing mind f*ck with Bliss… something that people did to trippers on occasion. It left her with badly blistered fingers. Not cool.

FRIDAY FABLE / WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD MISS BLISS!

Once upon a time…. So long ago… Miss Bliss was still an innocent oblivious to most of the failings of men. She had faced two shocks, but still led the bewildered life of the inexperienced, believing that love was always kind and people were good.

Miss Bliss had begun private school in a tiny free school run by Quakers. This school was held in the basement of a Church. The building was huge, and the under level housed a food bank and an information service and emergency hot line we will call V S.

Both of these attracted that part of Miss Bliss that wanted to save the world. Soon she was working in both. The food bank was easy. You showed up, packed boxes and handed them out.

The VS service required training. Miss Bliss was successful at completing it and was soon answering phones on the graveyard shift. The rules were that you must be at least 16 to work there, but those under 21 would be supervised by those over 21. No minor would be allowed the responsibility of running the phones alone.

So it was that Miss Bliss became acquainted with Dan, who was 22, a nice young man who was a weekend National Guardsman and a couple named Curtis and Suzanne who always worked together. As the nights passed into summer and school fell away, Bliss worked more and more graveyard shifts.

When the night calls thinned out, they would play cards or tell each other stories of their adventures. The time passed quickly and Miss Bliss thought of it as mostly fun, with a touch of community service. Dan was a fascination because he was male and let’s face it… at sixteen, girls are fascinated with males. That’s just how it is.

But the couple was even more of a curiosity. Curtis was younger than Suzanne by sixteen years. He was handsome in a young Michael Sarazin sort of way. The most interesting thing about him was that he was perpetually flipping the bird with his right hand. This was due to a fight with some MPs that left his finger damaged and unable to bend. It made Bliss laugh to play cards with a man who constantly flipped her off.

She found Curtis to be a very charming tease and a flirt. She was impressed that he would love a woman so much older. Suzanne was mid forties, looked her age with heavily freckled skin that burned easily and a face that seemed impressed with a sort of exhaustion that absorbed all joy from her eyes and smile. Bliss would look at Suzanne and wonder what on earth could be so interesting there that could hold the affection of such a sexy young man. It made no sense. Because of this, he seemed heroic to Bliss… a man who loved for the beauty inside his woman.

That ended abruptly when Bliss accidentally walked in on Suzanne examining her chest in the women’s room mirror. She could not stop herself from gasping loudly and putting a hand to her mouth to keep from saying the obvious.

“Its nothing…” Suzanne explained. A fall down the stairs. She was clumsy. But Bliss could clearly see the imprint of a boot in Suzanne’s side. The bruising was not mere discoloration, but lumpy and dreadful in its coloring in shades of yellow, brown, green, black and blue. Clearly the there were bruises on top of older bruises, all hidden by the gold lame tube top.

Bliss was of course fresh out of training on the subject of domestic violence. Bliss was backed by the naivety of the young, and the impressions of her recently viewed training films. She decided to make it her mission to help Suzanne escape from Curtis, who would surely beat this woman to death if given enough time. Suzanne would not be swayed.

Bliss did not give up. She continued to spout her opinions on how simple it should be to leave a man like that. Suzanne insisted that Curtis was dangerous and that someone would get hurt. Bliss insisted that she was not afraid of Curtis. She would help Suzanne move out. Together they would pack her things and the leave the man behind.

Bliss had almost given up when Suzanne called her at home. Curtis had just beaten her again and she was frightened. Could Suzanne hide at her home until she could get out of town. Bliss was elated… she had done it. She had won. She agreed to hurry over and help Suzanne run off to safety and freedom. The two women packed Suzanne’s most prized possessions in very quick time.

Bliss peaked out of the door and saw no sign of Curtis. She waved Suzanne to follow. They were half a block from the couple’s apartment when Curtis showed up, running from between two houses. Suzanne screamed as he grabbed her by the hair and began to pummel her face and head. Bliss shouted for help. The street was silent except for the grunts and soggy punches.

Bliss ran to the first house she saw. Inside a large family comprised mostly of large males, sat around a dining table eating. Bliss pounded on the glass. The family ignored her. Frantic, Bliss pushed open the door and yelled inside that a woman was being beaten in the street outside, please… please…hurry and call the police and please come help. Bliss was flooded with relief when the family rose as a unit and shuffled to the porch. But her feeling of hope fell away as she realized they were only going to be spectators. No help was coming from these people. Bliss helped herself to the telephone and called 911.

Back in the street the beating continued. Bliss pushed her way through the horrible family and not knowing what else to do, Bliss removed her leather sandal and began to slap Cutis in the face. The sandals were so flimsy that they were more annoyance than effective.

“I called the police Curtis… they’re coming…” Bliss warned him, hoping the threat would motivate him to run away. It was not until the siren rounded the corner that Curtis bothered to care. He then suddenly ran quickly off between two houses and vanished.

The policemen took Bliss and Suzanne, who refused medical attention to Bliss’s home. There Suzanne was able to take a long hot bath, eat some fried potatoes and prepare her plans for escape. Miss Bliss’s father hurried home from work to drive them to the Greyhound Bus Station. When he pulled up front, Bliss reached for the door handle to accompany Suzanne inside.

“No, I don’t’ want you to go with me. It will be safer if you dont.” Suzanne said firmly.

“Will you write and tell me where you end up?” Bliss begged.

“Sure. You bet. Thanks for all your help, honey.” Suzanne exited the Mustang and was quickly lost in the travel crowd.

It would be lovely if this was the end of the story, but of course it is not. Curtis was not arrested that day. Miss Bliss had accidentally made a wise choice. While Suzanne had bathed, Bliss had called Dan at the VS and told him what had happened. Dan immediately set about purging any trace of connection or identification of Bliss to VS. Her name was removed from every file, every log. He told Bliss that she was not to come to VS until he said that it was safe. She would in fact, never go there again, though she was unaware of this at the time.

Over the course of the next few days a series of events transpired. Bliss only knows that they happened. The details are sketchy. That night, Curtis tore apart the office of VS and all its files searching for a way to reach Bliss. He held Dan at gun point in an attempt to get him to tell where Bliss lived. Dan did not tell, though he was no doubt scared spitless. Curtis found the name and address of another girl named Bliss and after beating up Dan, left to find her. Dan immediately called Bliss’s father and explained the situation.

Mr. Bliss knew what to do. He called the army. Curtis was AWOL. When Mr. Bliss explained the situation to Curtis’s commanding officer, MPs were dispatched and in two days Curtis was taken into custody within a block of Bliss’s house. A loaded gun was removed from his possession and Curtis went into an army prison.

Bliss learned of these facts after all was finished. She never really felt threatened. She never really needed to be brave. Sometimes being ignorant is a blessing. When she was given the details, she was incredulous and became very frightened after the fact. The other girl named Bliss who worked at VS and her family had also been threatened at gun point, but Curtis could see that she was not the right Bliss.

That was the end of her days at VS. Life went on and time passed. Bliss found her new school, from which she would get her blog name, attended and graduated on to college. She met and married. The couple decided to move to Oregon. Bliss took the bus to her old neighborhood to say good-bye to one of her favorite teachers from the Quaker school that had opened a book store.

His name was Larry. He said he was so glad to see her because he had important news. Curtis was out of military prison and had been asking all over the old neighborhood for news of Bliss. Larry had not known how to reach her. But he was certain that Curtis was very sorry for his actions and truly wanted only to apologize.

Bliss said NO. She took the piece of paper that she had scribbled her future address on to give to her teacher and wadded it up, stuffing it back into her purse. She would not be leaving any traces here. She said good-bye to Larry and hurried to the bus stop. She did not stop looking over her shoulder until they were packed and on their way out of California. The one thing that Bliss was certain of was that people like Curtis do not change.

Miss Bliss never did hear from Suzanne about where she landed or that she was safe. Bliss does not blame Suzanne for this. She only wishes her well.


These days when her own children display signs of thinking themselves invincible or smart enough to avoid certain trouble, Bliss tells this story about a time in her life when she was too young to understand the danger she put herself into without even thinking once, let alone twice.