storeeze

She came in the rain, hair wet,  the day I left Vietnam. “Get in, the Thirteenth Part has not yet run.” We rode on, smoked cigarettes. Someone in back  Was sleeping. She stopped in the long green grass, Clasped my wrist, And sobbed “Borgo.”

I don’t even think they know where they’re goin’.  What are they tryin’ to prove, anyway? —The Wild Ones (1953) You know how every neighborhood has an eccentric? When I slipped my Harley up Richie’s drive on a wonderfully hot Saturday afternoon, he was sitting on his bed surrounded by clothes and boxes. I t was one of those wacky Saturdays where the sight of Richie sleeping in would cause his father Ollie to turn purple  and dump the contents of Richie’s bedroom into the drive.  “Goddammit Richard, you'll be out of my house by six o’clock tonight, I GAR-UN-TEE!” “Where’s Ollie?” I asked. Richie sighed, “They’re at the Hub.” We got it all back into his room—the heat didn’t help—and cracked open a couple of Ollie’s cold ones. We’d been in crises since Alan frosted us with the Angels: “I like his sister. ” “Yeah, fourteen. ” “What do you see in these Angels girls? They're still in high school and you ain't even finger-fucked 'em yet. ” Richie opened his little black boo...