Ugly pt11

The bus ride stopped in New York state in the biggest traffic jam I ever saw.

I was finally allowed to be on top the bus. We moved so slowly there was little chance of me falling off.

The traffic jam went on for miles and miles.

All those cars and buses. It was amazing. A sea of hippie vehicles.

The silly part of we got there two day early.

What can I say about Woodstock that hasn't been said. Hot, wet, muddy, stinky.

Fun. I had fun. I love music, always have. There were other children. I got to play with other kids like me.

The woman who sang to me in the park was there, on stage, in front of the sea of people. I couldn't see her nut I recognized her voice. I could never forget that voice. She was a goddess of the hippies. She was wild and free. She was free love and booze and drugs. She sang the blues. And did she sing the blues, like no white woman had. She sang the blues of the hippie women, of the girls who got tired of seeing the men they love move on. She sand to them. She still sings to me. It was the last time I got to hear her sing live for me.

She sang:


In my brain, oh I can see your face again,
I know my frame of mind, yeah.
But nobody, nobody has to ever be so blind,
Honey, like I did, I know I was blind,
Honey, I tell you that I was, I was very, very blind.
Oh but I’m just a girl,
Can’t you just take a look at me and tell,
Tell that I live, honey I live and I breathe for you,
Don’t you know I do!

*****
I looked at my mother looking at me and my oldest father. I was on his shoulders. She looked soft and was crying.
*****

But what good, what good,
Honey, what good could ever do
‘Cause I ain’t got you, that’s all I’ve ever wanted,
And I ain’t got you, babe, oh but I’ve been looking ’round.
But you don’t know, you don’t know what it’s like,
No you don’t, no, no, no, you don’t know,
Honey, you don’t know what it’s like
Oh to love anybody.
Oh honey I wanna talk about
Trying to hold somebody when you’re lonely
The way I loved you, baby,
And I just want you to know I tried.

*****
I don't think anyone else noticed. Her tears ran down her checks like rain. Silent. So silent.
*****

Oh I know that there’s a way
‘Cause everybody came to me one time and said,
“Honey, you can do anything,
Every little thing, and I think I can.
Oh, but what good, what good,
Honey, what awfully good can it ever, ever bring,
‘Cause I can’t find you with my love,
And I can’t find you babe, oh anywhere.

Oh, but you don’t know,
You don’t know what it’s like,
No you don’t and you never ever, ever did.
You don’t know, honey,
You don’t know what it’s like
Oh to love anybody.
Oh honey I wanna talk about trying to hold you.
*****

Oldest Father was smiling and grooving along. He was looking at a hippie woman. Young and curvy without cloths except a small scarf wrapped around her waist. Her breasts had flowers pained on them when her bikini top would be. He never noticed my mother looking at him as the flower woman smiled back at him.

I did. I saw her tears. I saw her face. I saw her turn. I saw her walk away.

She didn't return until the next day when this song played:

How can I bring you
To the Sea of Madness
I love you so much
It's gonna bring me sadness
I've never seen you
Through these eyes before
Now I don't believe it
I think I'll take it
Or leave it.

All I need
Is your sweet sweet loving
Fill my life with happiness
All I want is your heart
Every time I think of you
Mine falls apart.

I went to heaven
And I stood at the crossroads
I'll love you tomorrow
As sure as the wind blows
Silver rain
On the mountain clover
Washes away
Until the music is over.

Not many seemed to care she was gone. I did. Oldest father held me close that night. He said he cared too. He said she would be back. He was right. He is often right about so many things. I look to him to give me the answers most of the time. Even if he had his moments of insanity as well.

She came back, happy, high and singing the song as she went along.

"All I need
Is your sweet sweet loving
Fill my life with happiness
All I want is your heart
Every time I think of you
Mine falls apart." She sang.

"How was the little bed bug last night. Luke?" She tussled my hair as she said it with a great big smile.

I hate to say I liked her best when she was high. I hate to say it because you are not suppose to like addicts when they are doing what they are addicted to. You are suppose to hate their addictions. Look down own them when they are high or drunk or gambling or what ever they do to get their kicks. But in reality they are the most alive, the most vibrant, the nicest they will be. It's when they come down that all hell brakes out and the monsters come out to play.

"I found some groovy people to get stoned with. They are really cool. You'd love them, Luke. This guy there he was a hippie Adonis. All the girls CAME to him, Luke. There were so many beautiful people there, I wished you were there." She smiled at oldest father. I guess it is what you call the cat catching the canary smile.

"Emma was fine with me, she missed her mother. It's a little scary with all these people around, maybe you should stick closer to her so she knows you will come back." Oldest father had a bit of judgment in his tone, but mother didn't care. She ignores that tone for the most part and acts as if he didn't say anything more than the grass is green.

"Oh, I almost forget on the way back I found some people I meet a long time ago. What a gas, man. Before I meet you Luke, when I fist came out to Cali, actually it was on the train to Cali."

Three women came forward. Two older like oldest father, one the same age as mother. The older women looked more conservative, as if they were playing dress up for the weekend. You know when the clothes don't fit the personality. You just know they don't belong.


"This is Sandra." She pointed to one of the older women. "Her roommate, Nancy" she pointed at the other older woman also looking out of place in her clothes. And this is Candy" She pointed at the younger woman, just 2 years older then herself. She looks so much healthier than she looked the last time she saw her.

"And this little one is my little one, Moonbeam." she said as she picked me up and brought me to them.

Greetings were exchanged all around. The women stayed with us all day and into the next. Sandra tried to get my mother to give her her family info. She would ask a lot of questions about me. The questions about me were fielded with rainbows and sunshine. She didn't refer to me as Ugly with those women. I was always her "little one". She held me close, tousled my hair. She acted like, well, how I wish she would always act like.

I enjoyed it. I danced in it's sunshine. A mother's love I was denied.

Photos were taken. Hugs shared. Laughter, tears, people lost people found. People died. People born. And me... I was was dancing in the sunshine of my mothers love trying hard to burn in my memory the sight of Jimi Hendrix paying homage to the gods of fire, drugs, sex and music.

Somehow I forgot it. I only remember I saw it when I see it in photos or videos now. The sight of Jimi burning his sacrifice brings back so many images, not just Jimi, but the whole weekend, the whole trip and the sunshine of my mother's love.

Sandra asked mother to keep in touch and gave mother her info again. For a while, mother did write, I really don't know for how long.

"Why do you want me to tell you about the early part of my life, anyway?"

"I'll explain it later."

Well then, I will say the trip home was the same as the one there. Only thing we were far more tired and we avoided the great state of Kentucky.