Saturday, January 24, 2009

Glory Days & Playboy Bunnies

"Hope I don't sit around, talking about them, but I probably will," sand Bruce Springsteen is his tune, "Glory Days". It was around that time period, a sister-in-law dragged me to a class, "Choose To Love Yourself". That may have been where I learned about "living in the now". Somewhere along the line, I decided that is what Jesus meant when he spoke about becoming like children if we wanted to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. The mind can drive one crazy if it spends too much time dwelling on the past and the future. Good advice: live in the now. I vowed that I would not be one of those old people who constantly talks about yesterday.

"Baby Insane and the Buddha" was describing tattoo's Kevin (Baby Insane) put on his body while in the Youth Correctional facility. Later another inmate tattooed him, using an invention he made from a cassette player battery, pen cartridge, thread and "sharpened paper clip". That reminded me of a tattoo my ex-husband had on his hand: a jail tattoo, he explained at the time.
This morning, as I continued reading, a Crip had a RIP tattoo needled on his body when one of his homeboy's was shot and killed by cops. Even as I read, I thought of my younger sister, getting a star tattooed on her back, with initials to represent the RIP men her life. Our father, our brother and her John, each time one of them died. Did not dwell on the thought as I kept reading, when a tiny Playboy Bunny tattoo presented it's picture in my mind's eye.

Taking a break from reading, when the book started telling about a Ku Klux Klan investigation; my mind drifts back to All The Stories In My Head about tattoos. Glory Days, hope I don't talk about them, but I do. Not that the days' past were all that glorious...

Tattoo's are plentiful in California. My oldest daughter said she decided not to get a tattoo because she did not want to be an old lady with a faded Yin Yang tattoo on wrinkled skin. Something like that. I know what she means, seeing gray haired ladies that absolutely do not look "the type" to have tattoos, having them, is not an attractive sight.

In 9th Grade I was voted: Most Observant, which surprised me, because I was never with that in-crowd that decided so and so was thus and such. When that image of the Playboy Bunny drifted to mind, this morning I thought I would make a poor witness, if asked about "identifying marks". Lots of my homeless peers had tattoos. I could recognize "jail tattoos" and would compliment people on the more artful professional ones, just to have something nice to say to people I spent so much time around on the streets.
Don, for instance, probably had military tattoos, yet I am not sure that is true. Eddie had a small Playboy Bunny tattoo on his neck.

I used to tease Eddie about being a playboy, because of it. Eddie always talked about his latest "girlfriend." Most of us thought he was lying about "getting lucky" or any of the gals that hung around with him being his lady. My first experience with Eddie was Judy taking off in a huff and Eddie going on and on about their relationship. Once Judy and I started talking, I heard a much different version from her about this supposed love relationship.

Eddie moved in fast on any new homeless woman showed up in the area. After the brief fling, Eddie would tell everyone: she's crazy, I ditched her. Eddie and I had words, at times. I lost my temper often with almost all the guys on the streets, that I saw on a regular basis. I imagined Eddie telling his homies I was one of his conquests. Especially when we walked up to the COA together one morning for breakfast. Eddie seldom left the hill and relied on other people's generosity, or he would never eat at all. That morning he was headed to Fred's Church. Fred, gave everyone a dollar after the service and breakfast. We decided we would go to the COA first.
While we were standing in line, Eddie introduced me to one of his friends. Eddie and the guy said something in Spanish and I could tell by the guy's look at me, Eddie was telling him some lie about us. That is why I seldom believed his tales about all his other ladies. One day I was amazed to see the latest, feeding him the way mothers feed babies or cutesy couples feed each other. Um...

Told the guys, later, "Must be true this time, they sure looked cozy." By the time the weekend was over, she was yelling and storming up the hill and Eddie was telling us, "She was a bit off...". He had to dump her, but as with others, the woman would be in and out of his life.

Wish I had known more about gangbanger tattoo's when I was on the streets. "La Vida Loco" was represented by three dots in a triangle. Reading about it, I realized I have seen them on people. Yes, I still observe, I simply do not retain the info in my brain. I could not even tell you how many and what kind of tattoo's my ex had, even though I saw them most everyday for 13 years!

Okay, back to reading, thanks for listening to my Glory Days tales. (10/25/08)

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