Thursday, October 01, 2009

Going Back to Cali

Picture this: Summer has kicked-off with a bang, you are a rich white suburban teen and the year could be 1978 or 1988, it doesn’t matter. You and your friends all have convertibles with high-grade stereos in them and an endless supply of weed, and all you have to do is hang out and keep cool: In every sense of the word.
You spend you days sleeping till noon and then after a quick dip in the large blue pool behind the house you jump (literally) in your Firebird or Freebird or Thunderbird and cruise through the valley to pick up your best friend, Kenny. The two of you then go to a sweet leafy spot high up in the hills to kick back and smoke some weed, over looking the city suburbs, until you are really stoned and then cruise about the streets listening to KROC or a mixtape that one of you have made. The tunes are all blissed-out west coast shit, and the tunes play loudly as your skin blisters and burns in the sun, from white to red to brown. You and Kenny begin to look alike and a couple of times you get so wasted that you forget your name, you forget who what when where why, until you spot Kenny sat in a corner sat by the pool sat in the passenger seat and it all comes rushing back to you. It could be said that Kenny keeps you grounded, that he keeps you from floating off and never returning. But this would never happen, as that would be just too deep for you to imagine: beyond comprehension.
After a few hours of cruising you float down from the hills into the valley and hook up with your close circle of friends every night in a car park behind the 7-11, which by 9-o clock looks like a convertible car show complete with beautiful girls lolling about stoned on the hoods and seats of the cars. By midnight the party has moved on to wherever is available; whoever’s parents are out of town, you move from one to another in heavy rotation. You drift through a steady supply of girls, nothing heavy and nobody gets hurt when you trade in one girl for another. This is all part of it. The girls are into the brief, intense, relationships and after a couple of hazy days of love they want something new, something fresh. This is all you do all summer. This is all you want to do all summer. This is summer. You have absolutely noting to worry about…

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