Back in 2018, a reader sent in their entry for a memorable night. There was supposed to be a second part, but it never came, and I forgot about their first part. Here it is, in its entirety.
The 5 Lady Loves of My Life
This BI will probably end up running really long, thus I both warn and apologize in advance. Pretty foolish request up front, but please don’t speculate as to my identity or the identities of my 5 Lady Loves (especially the last one, Lady #5, as we have been married shy of 2 decades now and she’ll kill me if she finds out), as none of us are famous. I think there will be enough fun tidbits for people to guess at without us anyway.
That said, let’s hop in the DeLorean and let it take us back 25 years almost to the day, to the waning days of this legendary L.A. FM rock station (#1) that had exploded onto the scene in the tail end of the big hair bands era of the ‘80s. Said station had launched with much fanfare with an inaugural song (#2), an iconic song by a legendary rock band (#3) that the station would go on to use in a signature marketing ploy – every time they would play said song, a caller had a chance to win $10,000 if I remember correctly. Funny enough, my buddy’s kid brother called up the station to request they play the song, only to be cussed out on air by the legendary DJ (#4). Before the station would disappear into the mists of time, it was even honored/mocked by having this other legendary alternative rock station #5 bring it back not too long after - if only for a day #6
Spring Break in L.A., the first year in many that I wouldn’t either have to work for the old man or be able to go out of town to blow off some steam and celebrate. I grew up in the industry “on the wrong side of the tracks” so to speak – working long hours whenever I could spare the time for the old man - helping out on gear, props, equipment, anything and everything behind the scenes, behind the camera, in the background as the son of a “mad scientist” technical genius who made a pretty decent living as a freelance (and usually uncredited…in fact almost entirely uncredited per the old man’s IMDB page) technical/engineering consultant, special effects man, prop master, and occasional stuntman and minor/bit part character actor. He was a “fixer” less in the Ray Donovan sense and more in the scientific sense – when a studio had some sort of technical problem they couldn’t solve, my dad was one of if not the go-to guy to come up with out of the box, creative solutions. His far-too-often-unsung efforts won his various employers numerous Oscars, Emmys, VMAs and Clio awards over the decades. But enough about me and my fam (for now), let’s get on with one of those crazy nights.
Now there’s something people need to understand about L.A. – not only is it chock full of the world’s finest ladies most trying to make it or break it in showbiz, drawn to the glitz and glamour of the industry like moths to the flame, but it’s also blessed that the home grown variety, those sun kissed California girls, were hardly ever what one would consider to be runners up in the aesthetics department. Speaking of blessed, I, one of a seemingly rare breed of non-transplant, native born Angeleno sons, have been blessed in my forty-something years on this earth to have loved and been loved by 5 of California’s (if not the world’s) absolute best…every single one of them, while not famous, a goddess in my mind. Each as lovely on the inside as they are/were on the outside.
While there are many tales that I may one day tell of myself, my experiences, and my Lady Loves, today’s tale focuses on Lady #4, who we will call Washington. Washington and I (along with Ladies #1 & #3) attended the same high school, a pretty nice public school that was in those days both famous for its academic excellence and quality as well as notorious for its wild party scene. In fact, an alum of the school had directed a pretty successful cult classic teen coming-of-age movie that was heavily influenced by his own experiences at the school/town (#7). It had a kinda-sorta “in spirit” remake/variation not too long ago (#8). The place even had a rabid pack of rocket scientists in its backyard, not just the rock band we’ll get to very soon that used to play in and around those backyards.
I was a couple of years ahead of Washington, and had been a few months past breaking up with Lady #3. Washington and I had a class together that year, and over that fall, winter and spring we grew close, very close, and in the time leading up to Spring Break she found herself torn between her douchelord of an on again off again boyfriend and me. The boyfriend, conveniently for us, decided to be his douche self and break up with Washington prior to heading out of town for Spring Break. I would deal with that Grade A Shit heel in time, but at that time I decided to put my personal desires and wants aside and just be the Friend Zone shoulder for her to cry on. And cry she did – that first weekend of Spring Break it was tough to see her break down like she did, especially with the unrequited feelings of love, passion, and desire I most definitely had for her, and was sure she had for me. But I was working on a plan to cheer her up, with the help of a friend of mine who had a line on a hush hush event that was coming up the middle of that Spring Break week.
My buddy had some very good connections throughout the L.A. music scene, including at this Legendary Sunset Strip venue (#9) – one of the most storied clubs in America if not the world. He had heard a few days prior that this Legendary rock band with a pair of brothers (#10) was going to be putting on another “secret” show there that Wednesday (#11) – though hopefully it wouldn’t end up like the previous one (#12). As both of us were YUUUUUUUUGE fans of the group, he made sure to arrange that we could get in. I told him to do whatever it takes to make sure Washington could get in too, as she was also a big fan. I wanted to surprise her that day to try to kickstart her heart through the grieving process and get her out of her funk. My buddy said he’d try but no promises, to which I responded not good enough, make it happen…OR ELSE! (No, not that last bit...I was firm but polite...and begged him to please help me make that magic happen).
Now the only thing to do was to arrange for her to go out with me that night for a surprise “date”. She didn’t want to go out at first, but I convinced her to just meet me for a couple of hours at a Spring Break house party another of our friends was throwing while his parents were out of town. When I first saw her at the party, my heart skipped a beat. Even after days of being down and inconsolable, crying all the time, and not giving a shit about her appearance, even as a shadow of her previous self, she was radiant. Absolutely stunning. Gorgeous. Like magic, one of my favorite 80’s love songs began playing in the background…a song that will always remind me of that moment: The Outfield – Your Love. We went outside to a quieter, more private spot to talk, and she was still feeling down…I didn’t blame her, but the hopeless romantic in me ached to see her suffering.
We talked for a little while, but we were getting close to the time when we would have to leave to head to the concert. I told her I’m going for broke – that I planned a surprise to try to cheer her up, but she would have to trust me and leave with me right then and there. In the future, we would go together to the Strip quite often, especially to this other legendary club right off of it (#13). Another song, an obscure rock love ballad by a ragtag group made up of members of other bands, was playing in the background. The song will forever be seared in my memory, although years later, I would forget the name of the band and the name of the song. I would remember the lyrics, the rhythm, the beat of it – set to the memory, in slo-mo, of Washington’s beautiful, ocean big and ocean blue eyes blinking, me wiping a tear away from them, her finally cracking a smile. That song would become my version of Al Bundy’s “Hmmm Hmmm HIMMMM”, until I finally found out its name again, a few years ago (#14).
I don’t know what compelled me to look up right at that moment, but – and I know this is going to sound like some sort of cliché bullshit but it absolutely positively happened – a bluish green shooting star streaked across the sky from East to West. What can I say, I took it as a sign and moved in to kiss her…it was literally like a scene out of a John Hughes film (one of my favorite ones actually – Weird Science, where the guys get the girls after fighting off the Mad Max mutant bikers, and a pair of shooting stars streak across the sky as they kiss them). And of course because the universe loves to play with us silly humans, just like that, yet another played out cliché - who happened to show up and start breaking up the party and juuuuuuust then, the most inopportune time? The cops, or to be precise in this jurisdiction, the LASD. I couldn’t make this up if I tried. SIGHHHHHH…
I took Washington’s hand in mine, and told her it was now or never – I would be fine with whatever she chose to do – either go out with me that night to parts and places unknown, or we could go home, but she had to choose.
No comments:
Post a Comment