Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
Besides those practical considerations, Betty was engaged to a goof and was willing to
marry him despite his deficiencies of soul, humor and spirit. Why? Because he profiled “cor-
rect” in her parents' view of the world. Because he aspired to a few more years of grad school
and then a few decades on a campus, where he would teach something soft. Betty would be
happy on a campus, thinking, sharing her thoughts with others, reading books and continu-
ing to develop new thoughts.
Besides all that, I was short on words in those days. I didn't need as many words in those
days, and in this case my verbal efficiency went to 100%; I said nothing.
Besides that, I kept two sets of books on the personal value issue. In one set, I was broke.
In the other set I had a whole world in front of me with its exotic potential, foreign shores and
years of adventures. This seemed painfully obvious to our friends and to me. I loved Betty,
loved her sparkling eyes, her infrequent but incisive wit, her generosity in what counts most
to a young man and every square centimeter of her perfect physical self. I feared my own ar-
rogance, casually dismissing such beauty, but I frankly anticipated a juicy population of in-
credible women in the coming years. Besides that, Betty Boop would be back from Boston in
a week and wouldn't leave again to be married until June. Plenty of time.
Call me egregiously practical, but everyone tacitly agreed that it was for the best, that Betty
was not a good candidate for spaghetti and acid. Too flighty, skittish, vulnerable and inexper-
ienced, unlike us seasoned veterans, she was far better off discussing things in Boston. I tried
to put her out of my mind.
At that age in those golden years we didn't ponder too much for too long. We rather
watched a gray, dim dusk dip to near freezing and turn dark—never mind; we had gathered
in a huge, old house, Marcia's house, with great good friends and spaghetti on hand, with a
sumptuous sauce, abundant wine and reefer to get us started. The perfect repast filled us up
and helped quell the giddy anticipation that verged on anxiety. On that new frontier, we were
the modern pioneers. Failure to grasp that imagery indicates absence from that moment in
time. Full of laughter, good cheer, optimism and blithe spirit, we were poised to embark on a
journey to the cosmos in mere minutes, like our brethren who'd landed on the moon only five
months prior. They required a space ship and years of planning and a million details boiled
down to perfection with technical formality that allowed no error, none. We, on the other
hand needed only spaghetti, wine, reefer, good friends, LSD and a whole new decade to usher
in with flourish, with unbelievable insight and fun. Just as ground control instructed Major
Tom to take his protein pills and put his helmet on, we donned our game faces and popped
our little space pills. Man, David Bowie was a gas, in the groove and right on. Who couldn't
feel it?
The easy buzz and dulled edge of the reefer and wine and a hot meal soon gave way to
ignition and liftoff in variable succession. The group gained orbital speed, one after another
or sometimes in twos and threes. Started on the journey is what we got, most of us, in forty-
