One upon a time there was a place called Peace....

The sheets weren't sandy the first night. They were crisp and clean and not yet damp from the salt air and the mist machines just outside our door. The towels were Motel white and folded like starched flamingos walking the wire, not yet heaped on the floor, dumplin's in a pile. And we laughed....


On the 7th night I cried. And we clinked. And counted our change. And decided we could never go home.

So we stayed one more night.
One more sunrise.
One more round of tides....
And laughed....



Kimbies won a bucket of Domestics at Beer Bingo
and Skinny won a bucket of Choice....
We saddled our boogie boards and rode naked in the waves....
Each new wave, the Mother of all Waves, yankin' down our britches and unlacing our ties....
We fell...
In the waves, on the deck, over the sprinklers, out of chairs, up the stairs, and in love.
We danced...
Barefooted and bikini bottomed, in gypsy gowns to the ground, and in cowboy boots. With friends and with strangers. All by ourselves.



This morning, I leaned over the deck railing, toes to the edge, and blew her kisses. Thanked her. Wayward child at the train station. She knows I'll be back. And no matter what happens between now and then, when she sees me, she'll scoop me up in her beer foam arms and rock me back to peace........



"In the End, Peace Wins...."

"Thank you, Ocean".....

Spit.....

She stood on the patio. White patent leather sandals and cheese curl toes to the very edge of the concrete. From the kitchen I watched her blow and blow and blow, a giant "Achooooooo!", white eyelet dress billowing in the wind. "Achooo! Achoooo! Achooo!" I whispered "God bless you" but she didn't hear me, she was too busy spittin' the devil out....

Our Mama made us do that. When I fibbed that the neighbor's dog bit me in the shin, and really, it was our Princess, aggravated by being aggravated, but I couldn't risk tellin' the truth.....When I stole the Ford Fairlane, joyriding for three blocks before we finally hit traffic and bailed.....When we sold toilet paper flowers to the neighbors because we were hungry, and we weren't, but we were inventive....Our Mama made us spit the devil out......

And so tonight, I did that. Hammered up "Do not trespass" signs on the squeaky screen door and the picket fence, the psychedelic pass through to the laundrey room. It's been hell week. And we're goin' to the beach. Fate and everything ugly has raised it's rheumy arm to trip us up, to stop us in our tracks, to rock our peace. And I almost fell for it. Until I remembered to spit the devil out.....

Peace~love my friends,

If we Just make it through the night.....

Swimmin' up hill.....

I fall in face first. Imagine the blue Kool~aid waves crashing on the blow up shoreline. Slip into my mermaid skin and day dream. Five more days. My hair billows out on the surface, a thousand golden sea snakes swimming in a halo.... I open my eyes wide, wider, and wait. My contacts float off, tiny cavier eggs finally free. I smile for them. Five more days. And then no more counting....

I float in a circle, upside down and backwards, the current finally catching up to me, and then turn around and plow into it! This is how it feels when you take off from the seawall running, running, running and the ocean finally laps you up, whisks you away, slathering you with kisses. I can't wait. To be free......



To sit perched on the edge of the earth, a sandpiper, digging to China....
To dance under the mist machine and the neon light of the moon, 17 again, but wiser....
To hear the sea monsters rumbling, grumbling, tumbling in the night and watch them wallow backwards, foamy tails between their legs, when the Sun comes out ....
To slurp beer can oysters
and spurt salt water to the sky....
To build Peace Castles and scribble sand graffiti with my toes....
To sing in the choir, the next rock~n~roll band, the outside shower....
To paint henna tattoos on the legs of strangers
and the backs of friends....
To play driftwood, floating until I wash up on the shore...
To feel the love.....

I climb up the rickety plastic ladder and laugh. Peace is comin'..... Five more days, baby!

These boots were made for.....Peace

I'm just a hippie. I wear flipflops and combat boots. Converse sneakers without laces. I go barefoot. But I broke my foot. And whether that's a haunting or the butterfly effect, I'll never know. But I know this. Every now and then I fall. Just call me Grace.

So I have a secret weapon. Little stilts that hold me up. Prop me up like the plastic ballerina in the mahogany stained box. A brace. But by damned, I'm gonna hide it. So on Friday when the band went Country, I hauled my hippie buns to the Country and Western Store and fetched home a pair of cowboy boots. I can't wear combat boots every Friday night. And Skinny smiled.

"Scratch 'em on the concrete" she said, not wanting me to slide. "You can wear 'em with anything" she said, knowing that I would. And I did. We danced til dawn and I woke up to them abandoned on the porch. Toes scuffed, and heels already lazy. They did me good.

"We're just goin' for burgers and a beer" he said and I climbed right in. Saturdays are like that. I didn't wear my armor.... And never saw her coming....

She snuggled right in behind me, beside me, a Marilyn Monroe wanna~be, plopped up on the picnic table to my right. I turned. "Who in the hell is snugglin' up to my show?" And there she was. Bullet Bra. Smiling... A toothy sort of "I'm gonna getcha" grin....and then she wriggled with glee. The only woman whose ever threatened to whoop my fanny.

I almost shook.

Payback is hell....

And I've been there

so

I smiled back. Stretched my fingers. Made a fist. And before she ever saw it coming,

I bopped her good.

Two fingers to the sky.

"Peace"

"You shoulda worn your cowboy boots" Skinny whispered in my ear....

Butterflies and Hurricanes......

I twisted and twirled the same strand of blonde hair over and over again, weaving a pretend dreadlok back and forth between my fingers. My eyes were sun heavy, and each time I blinked, I did it slowly and savored the moment, my lashes like lazy palmetto fronds fanning me into summer sleep. I was bored with the conversation.

.

She babbled endlessly. A thousand words strung together like a macaroni necklace.... And she fidgeted. To the right, the left, under the table, across the table....A chihuahua frantic for table scraps....

.

She was making her move. Chasing Prince Charming. I blew smoke rings and watched them hover, transluscent doughnuts disappearing when they framed her face. She didn't notice. She didn't see his blue eyes flit from the right to the left and then settle on the pile of paperplates and pastic silverware stacked in front of him. She didn't see the sun falling into the river or the shadows from the giant Cypress trees turning into Gargoyles on the water. She was too busy bustin' her moves.....

.

The band came on and for just a moment, I thought she was going to leap onto the tabletop, Tom Cruise in high heels..... but she just yanked him, snatched him off his feet and swirled him out onto the floor. I took one last swig of cold beer and watched. Skinny arms flailing, legs up and down, spinning, and still.....she babbled on and on and on......"Me" language, her native tongue...

.

Silly girl.......

You lost him at hello....

The Kiss.....

I tiptoed over the hot coquina, his deck shoes with the laces hanging, one step before me. He climbed in and the little electric motor hummed, the roof folding like a sunset behind him. And he smiled. This wasn't the first time and it damned sure wasn't the last time. We had thousands of highway miles between us. I leaned over, fell into the Mustang, and kissed him hard. Stood on the mirrored parking lot and shot peace signs at the rear view mirror while he gunned it, periwinkle confetti flying....

And we laughed....

The last kiss. And we didn't even know it.

Happy anniversary, baby........

"Happy, Happy Week-end" said the Hippie to the sky...

"Hey, I've got an idea! Let's pretend we're at the beach......."

And so we did. Twenty four hours of "feel the love, save the seawall"....All in make~believe.

The little round river grew and grew and grew until it was bottomless and the waves tumbled madly, splashing us, dunking us, pulling us out to sea.....

Blue dolphins circled, an up and down parade of laughter, and we joined them, riding without saddles until we were dizzy, and I was the first one off, falling face first to kiss the ocean. Eyes wide open, the water was champagne, bubbly and delicious and I was tipsy by the time I came up for air, mermaid tail swishing......this way, that way, this way to Treasure Island....

To the Tiki Bar....

To the Sunset.....

To a week at the beach....

At midnight we played SeaCinderella, barefooted and silly....swirling and twirling, paisley shadows under the moon.....

The handsome Prince with the beer moustache laughing, drinking from glass slippers....thirsty for more....

It's Sunday now. And it's quiet. All that's left behind is a blue vinyl pool and sun on my nose....