50

Summertime in any desert anywhere requires access to water. You simply must have it on hand at all times, because the possibility of dehydration is quite real. Even better than having water to put into you is the ability to put yourself into water.



A curious thing happens when you are hot and dried-out, and then you immerse yourself in a swimming pool. When you clamber back out, you will freeze your ass off. It's remarkable. The desert air will suck all of the droplets off of you at such a speedy rate that even the slightest hint of a breeze will make you run for a towel and wrap yourself in it, shivering.

Ten minutes later, you will feel hot again. Odd, huh? Best is to simply relax in the water and remain there, because it is cooler than the air, yet warm enough that you feel just....right.... The pool gets cooled from evaporation as well, you see.

Joey's apartment complex had a pool. How very cool to hang out poolside and sip beers. School ended and we teens could spend the mid-day hours undisturbed by folks who had to go to work. Katheena looked very nice in a string bikini, as well you can imagine. Tanned, taut, and curvy.



But I would also spend time with Sean. Have you forgotten about this guy? Well, he was not the huge ball-breaker he would one day become. At this point, he had the large-boned frame, the height, and the "badditude" to become an angry young face-remover later on. But he also had a big gut. Nothing wrong with that, yet it gave him insecurity about his appearance.

This, coupled with an emotionally abusive mother and absent father, would contribute to his pursuit of physique-altering methods for both his football and fighting careers.

You know about that shit.

We became proficient at pimping beers. Homeless men hung around convenience stores and for a small price they would hook you up. Then they would steal only a few brewskies from your box. Sometimes, you'd have a guy who for some reason would cheat and tell the counter person that there were some teens out side asking folks to buy beer for them, and the fucker would get all the beer and your money along with it.

Those guys changed their behavior very quickly after that happened. You can guess why.

The summertime consisted of working at service jobs during the shit hours that you got because you were young, and also spending the rest of the time getting into situations and escaping from them.

Allow me to tell you about these wonderful times.

Sneak-dipping involved jumping chain-linked fences wearing only your underwear and your shoes. You could use a pool at both your leisure and your risk. It was exciting because of the possibility of getting caught, much like having sex with your lady in a nearly-empty movie theater.

Public nightime pools were mandated to be lit at night to prevent the possibility of some fool walking into one and drowning in it under darkness. How convenient, to have them lit. You wore shoes and undies only. This was so that you could scramble at a moment's notice without having to grab a pile clothing. You need shoes to climb a chain-link fence. Ask Richie. He knows fences.

You left behind the beer when you bailed. Not worth it. Many good times were had in green-lit-water in the midnight desert.



Towards the end of the summer, Katheena would end up traveling with her father and brothers back to Thailand to visit the other half of her family, something they did each summer.

Until that happened, it was a summer of total bliss for me, which I would never experience again.

After she left for Thailand, that was when shit began to happen. I will tell you about these types of exploits tomorrow, if you like.

Some of these were highly illegal and should not be mentioned anywhere, at any time, evar. Except here at the Mighty TDC.

But before that...

We three young folks who had automobiles, hard-earned money, and the high-desert city of Fuckno to escape would go out and explore Californication at every chance. Most often we took Katheena's sexy gold Firebird with the gold tinted windows simply because it was the shit. She had a loud sound system, and we would remove the t-top covers and let the brightly-lit sun in, the hot desert air whipping through our hair.

When you flew out of Fuckno back then, there were no popo, and there was no speed limit. It would only take an hour and a half to reach the west coast at 110 MPH. And then you could have a lot of fun.

Carmel, San Luis Obispo, San Diego were lovely towns where you could get into bars, trouble, and the Pacific Ocean.


God Help You.

God Help Us All.

---willies out.



One more for ya. Rogue Machine's "The Daylights."