https://www.angelfire.com/art2/dream/index.html
writegirl2000@hotmail.com
Listen to the story I overheard at a bar in Half Moon Bay:
There is this girl who likes this guy.
When he says “hi” she gets weak, her body goes limp. There is so much sexual tension in that one word that she can do nothing but fully surrender to him. She opens to him, her heart like a sensuously-exploding Georgia O’Keefe flower.
The guy, this one guy, is like no one she has ever known before. The way he talks, the way he thinks, the way he approaches everything is new to her. Sometimes he yells and sometimes he is quiet. For some strange reason, the girl likes him both ways. His life had gotten all balled up in women and corporate work and he had started to rot.
The girl, well she was totally alone in the world...no parents, a distant older brother and a younger brother more messed-up than her. She dated three solid men whose forefront dream was to tie her to a wedding cake. Her family and friends pushed for it too, for the one with a $$$$$$ title in his name. She was starting to suffocate.
One day, the girl and this guy, the balled-up one, decide they will disappear together. He has one of those ancient El Dorado’s, sleekly finned, white, convertible, the kind with a full front seat (no console), the shift...3-on-a-tree, the back seat as big as a living room, filled with CDs and whiskey, and he pulls right up to her front door driving right over the lawn.
She knew that one day he was coming, so she grabs her two packed-up bags, one full of clothes and girlie stuff, the other packed with an old dictionary and markers...her art stuff. (That’s so they can discuss words and she can do her drawings right on the page of the book and they won’t fly away.)
On her way out of her home, she leaves her front door wide open open and saftey pins a note to the screen. It says: Take whatever you need and donate this house to the poor. Thank-you.
Down the steps she runs, throwing her bags in the back seat. One nosy neighbor, Sylvia Younter, said that the man was smiling, and as the girl slid across the front seat, she parted her lips slightly, and kissed him. “I knew you would come.” the young girl whispered into the happy man’s ear.
“I saw her mouth the words through my binoculars.” said the plump, tight-faced Sylvia. “The girl reclined her seat, put her feet up on the dash and Whoosh! down the road they flew. They never looked back.”
When I first heard this story I thought it was an urban legend. But occasionally there are reports that two people, a beautiful, albeit, messy girl and a once-lonely casual guy, in an old white El Dorado are still hitting every small town in America.
One elderly insurance man in Crystal Creek reported that he saw two people coming from opposite sides of the street...a man and a woman. They ran to each other and hugged and giggled and for a brief moment it seemed as if they melted into one another...liquid love. “I told them that I hadn’t seen a love like theirs in more than thirty years.” They grinned and said “thank-you”, then disappeared into a white convertible. “Makes a man feel young and hopeful.” he added.
A woman from Project City said she spied the couple swimming naked in the mountain water above Shasta Dam. A white convertible was hidden in a glade of trees. “They were laughing like hyenas...” she said, “and I do think that girl was pregnant.”
Many residents of Glenwood Springs, Wyoming said they saw a tall handsome man carrying a pretty, slender girl on his shoulders. He was singing some old Counting Crows song to her. Phyllis Grudan of the Chesterton Hotel said she saw an old white-finned car in the alley behind her place. “Those crazy, glowing sweethearts came in and asked if they could buy a shower. I gave them the key to the third floor bathroom and said, “On me.” Wish I could find a man half as good as he was. He treated her like she was a prize calf at the rodeo. What a stunner too! Deliciously handsome.”
The more practical among us have wondered how the notorious duo have managed to keep traveling...it’s been 3 years now...as the story goes. Some say the girl was once rich. I recently heard she ripped those page drawings right out of the dictionary and sold them on the street to passers-by for $25. When the girl sold one she would apply fresh red lipstick and kiss the back of each drawing. “A kiss to freedom!” she would say. People snatched them up like hotcakes.
A small item in the Sun-Times Showcase section stated that the Leo Castillo Gallery in New York and Carl Hammer in Chicago wanted to represent the Convertiblegirl and she refused, telling them “My art is for the people. It’s about ghost attacks, the wonderment of fireflies, the inner beautylight of a person on the street, fake presidents, and corporations stealing souls. You want to sell me for 1000s of dollars to a select few. You cannot have me. I belong to the world. I am free.”
Chronicle Books out of San Francisco announced an upcoming book on their spring list authored by the traveling sweethearts. Seems the girl also writes and he, the musicman, was a former hot-shot editor. They created it of themselves and won’t let anyone else touch it. The title is “Dynaride Me:The Cross-country Affair of Two Blind-Hearted Lovers.” Much good buzz is proceeding the book. If it goes bestseller, those two will be traveling and singing forever.
Or at least until their baby comes.
