1970s and a Killer Smile

I was born in 1972 which according to Jimmy Page, was when Led Zeppelin hit their artistic peak. I’m definitely drawn to the 70’s… not only because I don’t remember a whole lot the first 7+ years of my life, but also because the 80's were so vastly different. I mean, we went from polyester bell bottoms to neon bracelets and wearing bras as outerwear. I wish I had been born just a few years earlier so that I could have fully experienced the 70s. Don’t get me wrong, I love the 80s, but the 70s will always be a mystery to me, hence the fond and foggy memories that I fill with whatever fancies me. I have a actual few memories… one is actually based on a photo of me when I was about 4 years old, we'll call it 1978. Polyester bellbottom pants (patterned, of course) and an Orange Crush logo t-shirt (hell yes). Pigtails and a big smile on my face. Where was I? I have no idea. I just love that picture of myself. I won’t even pretend to remember when it was taken. My other memory was when I was about 5 or 6 years old at the county fair. My mother, recently divorced, introduced me to what I still remember to this day, as a very good looking man. I’m talking blond curly hair, shirt off, tan skin and cut-off jeans (white). And a killer smile to boot. I'm not sure why I remember this person as someone that I would fuck today, but there you have it.  Perhaps I embellish.  We went on the ferris wheel with him - - who was the other half of my we? I can only guess my sister, 3 years my elder. All that I can remember is sitting next to him, his arms outstretched over the back of the car…. and him, smiling. Always smiling in my memory. In the fantasy of my memory he was my mother's new boyfriend. My new daddy. Now I remember him as my mother's hot, younger boyfriend, she was a cougar before cougars even existed. In reality, I don’t know who that man was. I never remember to ask my mother…. mostly because I don’t want reality to ruin my memory. I mean, as real as he seemed and as vivid as my memory is…. what if it wasn’t real? What if my little mind made it all up? I would rather keep that killer smile alive than get more details from my mother and kill the fantasy. I know I saw him. Even if it was just in my memory.

Can't Stop

So there I was, making dinner, drinking beer and listening to my iPod. Alice in Chains comes on… there was something about the buzz that I was feeling added to the smell of tofu stir-fry… I suddenly found myself going back years and years. To a time that I barely remember (not for lack of trying). I found myself in the middle of a slow motion memory… and then it hit me - - it wasn’t a memorable, happy time at all that I was reminiscing about. It was when I was stripping. 27, 29-30, and then 31 years-old. Good times? Not so much. But there was something about it… every time I hear an Alice in Chains or a Soundgarden song… Red Hot Chili Peppers, Fiona Apple, Cardigans, Stone Temple Pilots, Garbage… too many to name, really. But I remember my “sets.“ Basically - - any time I'm buzzed and I hear "my music," I think back to this time. It wasn’t a great time in my life. But wasn’t the worst time, either. How can that be? Shouldn’t I be ashamed… shouldn’t I feel regret? I simply don’t. It was the only time in my life that I was in control of situations that were far beyond my control. I understood it. I knew why those men were there… honestly, they were there for the same reason that I was. They were lonely. Who was I, and who am I, to judge? What a way to connect… it was awesome. It was drunken magic. It was daylight outside - - but the second they walked through the front doors it was instant night. Instant hot girls (ok, not always, but keep in mind, it was dark!), instant fun, instant anything they wanted. Where else can you go for something like that? I still remember so many of the other girls… what their favorite songs were… their lucky dresses, favorite shots to have before they went on stage. And I was one of those girls. I truly was. I was Trina. And then I was Nadia. I talked to men I didn’t know. I took off my dress for them. I smiled, occasionally. I had a great time. And when the great time stopped - - I stopped. Three different times I left, and two different times I went back to eventually move on to something else. I went from being unemployed to winning amature night and on to events that would change my life, over time. Some good and some horribly, horribly bad. It all happened and I was there, for the most part, to witness it. And I won’t apologize.