TRAVELIN' TUESDAYS
On this 26th day of March, 2013, the year of our Lord, I'm sharing a portion of my book..."Hitchin'...God's Way Of Letting You Know You Don't Have A Car."
CHAPTER 5
THE SAN FRANCISCO KID
If you’re going to San Francisco,
Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair,
If you’re going to San Francisco,
You’re gonna find some gentle people there.
( I love that song! It puts me “THERE!”)
Sooooo, there I was, a few miles from San Francisco, with the afore mentioned song continuously looping in my brain.
“Be sure to wear some flowers in your hair, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair.”
Now, picture me on the shoulder of the road with my San Francisco sign in my hand, singing those worms over and over again and guess what I see?
WOW! I don’t know why everybody says you’re so dumb!
That’s right. Flowers!
Great day in the mornin'!
I’m not sure if they were really flowers, though.
They may have been weeds that looked like flowers.
Some were purkle, no, maybe periwinkle blue.
They had a round head and were kind of stickly and prickly.
The other flowers/weeds were yellow with windmill style petals. ( You ex-"flower children" can email me and tell me what they were.: teddybear2004@comcast.net. Sorry, no book critiques accepted.)
O.K. You will not believe what happened next.
It was a semi-miracle and I'm sharing it with you out of the goodness of my heart.
Ready?
Alright! Lets roll wit it!
As soon as I stick about 40 of these flowers/weeds in my hair ( Remember, I had real fuzzy, curly hair) a car stops!
It was a Robin's Egg Blue, 58 Oldsmobile with a big yellow butterfly painted on the hood.
The driver was wearing a "tie-dye" shirt, bell bottoms, a vest, sandals, and guess what?
Good guess.
A wreath of blue and white flowers in his hair. ( He smelled good, too.)
He was soooo nice to me!
Arguably, nicer than any dude has ever been to me.
He complimented me on my flowers/weeds, and even told me I had good skin.
Whowee! Nobody ever complimented me on my skin!
That was not the half of it.
He offered to take me out to eat, give me a few bucks and even have a "sleepover" at his apartment.
Now, get this.
The guy was such a compassionate, empathetic young man that he cried when I turned down his offers.
( I've never liked to impose on people or take charity unless it's absolutely necessary.)
The story gets better.
I end up getting dropped off on Water Street (or something like that) and walk up to a cop and ask directions to that crooked street I had seen in one of those travel shows on T.V.
The cop was far different than St. Louis cops.
He used terms like far out and stay cool, he smelled good, and he complimented me on my flowers/weeds.
( He didn't mention my skin, though.)
He was "super-dooper" nice!
What a FRIENDLY city.
There is more.
After getting directions from the cop, a BIG member of the "Superior Race" came over to me.
He was at least 7 feet tall and was dressed like a woman.
I mean, the works!
A strapless gown, high heels, lots of lipstick and makeup, an orange wig, and he smelled better than my Aunt Ollie! ( And she smelled pretty dang good!)
I figured he must be in a movie or was some kind of an "avante garde" street performer.
Anywho, he strolls over to me and in a super deep voice, like James Earl Jones, and asks, "Was that cop hassling you?"
Gee, willikers! I could not believe this!
A famous actor or something, cared about me.
ME!
To top it off; he was a member of the Superior Race!
I answered, "Oh, no. I was only asking him directions.
Then the "actor" replies, "Well, let me know if anybody hassles you."
He begins to walk away and then turns around and says, "By the way, man, the flowers and skin are workin' for ya."
How awesome could it get!
Nothing against St. Louis, but I was never treated this wonderfully in my own home town!!
