Conversation

An excerpt from the CONVERSATION manuscript.

Thursday June 24, 1999

9:40a
     Last night at the pizza place a 19 year old and I got to talking about what the youth world was like now. He had asked what I've been doing lately and I told him not much, just still trying to break away from the school shooting thing. So that lead into what I remember seeing in the youth culture from the past, things like break dancing, hacky-sack, that hop and bump type dancing, he called it body slamming I think, drinking and all the rest. One thing kinda lead to another.
     Somewhere along the way he mentioned streaking. I didnt catch it right away and then it came to me, "What? That's still happening?" So he told about some of the things he's done and seen done. I told him about Grassy Key Flordia in 1974.
     He's traveled a lot already, Europe on his own, or with friends he meets up with there. We talked more about how youth there and youth here compare. It's what I thought all along, they have their fun too only they're more responsible about it. They dont make no big deal about drinking and getting drunk. Here in the States is more like drinking and acting crazy drunk, "Hey look at me, see how wasted I am!"
     Anyway, we went on about work, making pizzas and him running buffet. A few minutes later he comes back over. "You know what the most wonderful thing is? Making love to a beautiful woman." I wait a few seconds, expecting some more enlightenment. Nothing coming. I said, "And?" while gesturing with my hand for more. Still nothing. "That's just stating the obivious." He starts up again about her being rich, or him. "No, that's not it. Location, where, when, circumstances."
2:50p
     So anyway. I keep trying to coach him along, to think about what he's saying and what he really wants to say. He keeps talking about beeches, islands, year long romance, .... I finally tell him to take two or three days and write up a paragraph describing what he thinks "the most wonderful thing is." He said he would as I left.
     Somewhere along the way during all of that, I get to thinking about a part of my life I stashed away in the CONVERSATION manuscript. Yeah, that "most wonderful thing."
     I get home about nine, clean up some. Look for the box with the manuscripts in it. Get out a copy. Spend the next 3 hours typing it into a data file. (I did look for it on the old computer but it never got transferred from the old disks.) Another 30 minutes adding the HTML coding along with a new link to it on the Mainroom page. Then uploaded it to the website. So here it is, An excerpt from the CONVERSATION manuscript.
     It's no longer a deepest secret among friends, it's here for the world to see, now. Sure hope everyone that reads it takes a swig of beer to seal the pack. Oh yeah, Bill is me, or I'm Bill in the story.
     It was about 3 am before I finally got to sleep. I really dont like to get my mind turned on with activity, it keeps me awake.

Prelude:

A fivesome of friends are sitting at a table in a tavern, three men in their early thirties, two with their girl friends. They have been drinking and talking, deep talk about sex, love and romance. They are theorists about most everything in life. These are the exerpts from this part of the story.

"You're pondering about something," Harry said. "What is it?"

Joe finished his beer and wiped a hand across his mouth. "Bill says that in making love there is a touch of mysticism which extends back into man's past as well as forward into the future."

Harry scoffed. "He's an incurable romantic."

"That's what I thought. But he says the romantic aspect involves only the present and the two making out. The mysticism is connected with the forces of life -- ergo, man's past, present, and future. And that's what I'm pondering."

"I still say he's talking about romantics -- two people being romantic in their lovemaking and lovemaking being romantic itself. No mysticism involved."

"But he sees something in lovemaking and romantics," Joe presisted. "Even if it isn't called mysticism, you can be sure there's something there if Bill says so."

"Bill sees something, all right. Figments of his imagination running rampant in his mind."

Bill returned, and good-naturedly plunked mugs down on the table. "Here's your beer, people. And yeah, I see pieces of my imagination. Like that nomad fifty thousand years ago who had a wild notion that he could carry a bit of brush fire around with him and have fire at his command. Then there's that figment of Einstein's rampant mind which said that space and time are one in the same. But these are other topics. What I'm really concerned with is the mysticism of the sex act and lovemaking."

Joe appeared to consider this thoughtfully. "I think that I'm beginning to understand. The romantics are the fringes of the mystics. All of the love stories written over the centuries are descriptions of physical and emotional characteristics of love. But few if any ever talked about the continuity which existed over the generations. No stories about the spiritual aspect of lovemaking."

Bill sipped his beer. "Now you're closing in on my thoughts. Recognizing that the mystical, or spiritual, aspect of lovemaking exists is only a step forward. And that's as far as I've gotten. What we need to do is try to figure out exactly what this mysticism is. There's more to sex than just animal instinct, and there's more to lovemaking than just romanticism."

Bill continued, "But there's still more. It's not just an experience by itself. It's an encounter with this mysticism thing. Think about it, a common act that has its roots back in the beginning of life itself, its blossoms in the present, its fruit forever in the future."

"Does this insight that you have into the mysticism turn you and Barbara on?" Joe asked.

"It turns me on. I dont know about Barb. We havent discussed it that much, but perhaps we should, then take the theory into the lab and test it." Bill replied.

Interlude:

The story picks up another theme for a while at the tavern, then they and a new friend leave to go on a quest. They all get into a van to travel to a different town. They continue the love and mysticism story as they ride. Bill begins his story of how he discovered this new ascept of romance and love.

Bill starts by performing a ritual among the friends when some one is about to tell there deepest secrets. "Let's get back to the subject that's on the round table. 'I declare myself to be a true friend and doper brother with the special people assembled. What secrets I tell in my tale tonight I share willingly and freely, knowing they will remain secrets among my true friends.'"

The group responded in unison: "'We declare it so, though the beer we drink liberates loosened lips, our minds trap those thoughts thus spoke, becoming secret sounds safely, securely, stored with our own.'" They all drink a swig of beer together to seal the pack.

"So be it," said Bill. "Once upon a time, I went on an overseas cruise to the Mediterranean, courtesy of the navy. While crossing the Atlantic I sat on the pointed end of the boat at night and pondered about the experiences which were out there over the horizon. Experiences which would come my way, possibly only once in my life, and I was determined to make the most of them. I had heard enough sea stories about typical sailor liberty in the Med from my buddies who had been on these cruises before. Barhopping and bargirl hopping all night long. Going on animal liberty and ballastic liberty.

"So I decided that instead of playing the single character of the typical liberty-minded sailor, I would play several different characters. That way I could multiply my experiences by as many different characters as I could create. It seemed like the best way to make the most of one trip to Europe. I could be a jet setter of the early sixties, a history scholar on a sabbatical, a hippie or beatnik bumming around, or a rock and roll star.

"So during those ten nights of crossing the Atlantic, I began to psych my mind up for what promised to be an exhilarating series of personal experiences. For a time I'm a tourist on a luxury liner; for a time I'm a merchant mariner; for a time I'm a beatnik bumming a ride on a freighter; for a time I'm a jet setter flying high. Whatever I sensed out ther in the night, in the middle of the Atlantic, I became. When it came time to cross through the Straits of Gibraltar, I knew I was prepared. Europe on the left, Africa on the right, and storming seas in between. Thoughts of dozens of different characters racing through my mind, all of them passing into the historical Mediterranean Sea. Even the real Bill was there.

"For three months we sailed around that sea. The only land we saw was Italy and Sicily when going through the straits of Messini, Greece while at anchorage off of Kithira. Three months of tantalizing thoughts about what might be on the land. Finally we got to set foot on land on the 'heel' of Italy at a place called Brindisi. It's a small town about the size of Easley. And it was there that I met Debbie, an American archaeological student who was on vacation from a dig in the Mid East, Israel I think. She was visiting some friends she had met earlier. We met in one of the squares and fell into a real heavy talk about history, digs, the universe, and everything. She knew the town pretty well, so we wandered around all over the place that afternoon, looking and talking. That evening we went to the home of one of her friends, where we spent the time drinking and partying.

"There's nothing in the world like a group of friends partying European style. In the States we go to one place, a lounge or lakeside, and then maybe go to someone's house, then go home. In Europe you go from home to home, picking up more and more people, then you go into town to three or four lounges. Then during the late evening you wander around town and that's when the party starts to fade away into the night. Couples just start to wander their own way. Debbie leads me off toward the beach where her friend's house was.

"So picture this. Here I am, on European soil for the first time in my life, cruising high on beer and pot. My mind full of thoughts about the flow of history from the talk with Debbie. A new girlfriend walking by my side. We're headed for the beach under a starry sky. Dozens of different characters are within my mind trying to experience the same events in a dozen different ways. My senses reaching far out into the night, feeding my imagination and thoughts with wonderment about everything that might be happening all over Europe -- all over the world at that particular moment in time.

"With all of that going on throughout my whole being, Debbie and I smoke pot, make out, and make love for the rest of the night. Sex is an exhilarating experience. But that night it was like the first time all over again, plus ten years of knowing what it's like, plus these other characters' experiences, plus a bunch more, plus what seems to be an encounter with the mysticism of life itself.

"There just arent words to describe some experiences, and this is one of 'em. It's like getting turned on to a particular song, yet other similar songs do nothing for you. It's the difference between going to a party and being a corner piece or going to a party and becoming one with the party. It's the difference between being in a dark, dusty cave, or being on top of a mountain taking in all that you can see.

"Debbie seemed to sense something different between us, too. She mentioned it a couple of times but I couldnt explain it then; I was too engrossed in my own emotions and thoughts. But that morning, after a few hours' sleep, we went back into town to eat breakfast and that's all we talked about for hours. Debbie didn't know what was going through my mind that night, yet she knew shomething was happening. She described it as that proverbial flow of chemistry and electricity between two people who hit it off when they first meet, only much more intense. Oh, we did have one similiar thought that night. When I was wondering about other things happening in Europe, at that moment, I thought about all the other couples who might be making love. Debbie had similiar thoughts. She kept remembering the words to a song, 'All over the world tonight, you can hear the sounds of lovers in love'. I suppose you might say that was the only fantasy sync we had. No that's not right; we did have the partying experience in common and the talk that afternoon before going out to party. But she never mentioned those things the next day."

"What did she say?" Carol asked.

Bill said, "I dont remember her saying a whole lot. I did most of the tale-telling. She did ask questions. Let me think. One thing she asked was if I was aware of her, herself. I told her of course I was. I knew what she must have thought to ask such a question. She must have begun to wonder if I was in a world all to myself that night and worried that she was just a bit part supporting my assorted characters. After thinking about her point of view, I began to wonder myself if I was caught up in my own game."

"That's what I would have thought if I were Debbie," said Carol.

"Wait till I finish this tale before you start dissecting it," Bill scolded. "Blast! Now you went and did it. I've lost the mood of the story."

"Sorry," Carol said meekly.

"What happened next?" TK asked. "Did you go back to the boat, go out partying again, what?"

Bill said, "We went out partying again. Almost like the night before. I had to be back on the boat by eight the next morning, which meant getting up early to catch the first liberty launch at six. So the lovemakig was cut short. The biggest difference was that I was more like the real Bill that night. The satisfaction, camaraderie, awareness, and euphoria were all present, only it seemed as if someone had turned down the intensity to a quater full. She was more reserved, introspective, or something like that. Couldn't get any reason from her, so I thought we were both aware that out being together was soon coming to an end. Before getting out of bed the next morning, I remember lying there wondering if I'd only had some sort of super fantasy trip the first night or maybe was just stoned out of my mind."

"You two never got together again, did you?" Joe asked.

"No. I had duty that day, standby duty the next. She had to leave to go back to Israel the day after, my next free day. Miserable, rotten military. I hate the navy with a venomous passion! But I suppose that was the counterbalance for all the good experiences I had over there. Famous last story words from Debbie -- 'Thanks, Bill, for a most extraordinary time. You're a very special person'."

"Did you ever score like that again while over there?" Joe asked.

"Oh, three, no, five girls. Nothing like the first time with Debbie. That's been a singular event. But you know how some unique events make such a strong impression that nothing's the same afterward. They're all special to me now."

Interlude:

They stop at Bill and his girlfriend's place to pick her up for the rest of the quest adventure. Bill goes in to get her and a few other things they might need. They return to the van and continue the story.

"Hi Barb. You want to go out tonight?"

"It's kind of late, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I know, but it's kind of a spontaneous party. We got a round table going too, sex and pot. Speaking of which, you got any?"

"Bill! Just 'which' is really on your mind?"

"What? Oh, I meant pot. I don't think anybody has any with them."

"Well in that case, yes. And maybe yes for the other later, if you behave yourself. Go lock up the back while I get ready. Who else is out there and where are we going?"

"Joe, Carol, Harry, and TK. I've told you about him. We're going to Clemson to meet Marty and look for a sociologist and Jedi master."

"Looking for a Jedi master. You sure you haven't already smoked everything you had?" she asked. "You think we'll end up at lakeside?"

"No, and probably. Want me to get some towels?"

"Yes, I guess so. I'm not going to ask about the Jedi, but what is the sociologist for?"

"During the pot talk we theorized that the drug culture is mutating into some kind of new animal. So we decided we needed a sociologist to dream up an experiment for us to test the theory."

"I think I should have asked about the Jedi instead."

Bill said, "I'm going to get some beer and the ice chest. Which one of the bags in the freezer has the grass in it?"

"The one labeled, Monolith one dash four dash nine."

"Barb, we drank some truth serum tonight and I told them about a girl I met in Europe. It's something I've been meaning to talk with you about, but never got around to it. It's part of the sex topic on the round table."

"Oh? Something special about this? I thought we both understood that we've each had past lovers and that there was nothing to hide. We just choose to not talk about them."

"Well, that's part of it. We'll be talking about it tonight and I just didnt want you to enter into it cold. It was very meaningful to me. Really meaningful."

"Okay." she rubbed his arm. "I promise not to make any irrational judgment till after we've talked about it ourselves. Thank for considering my feelings. We ready?"

"You're welcome. And thanks for being my friend. Let's go."

They return to the van and get moving on down the road and on about the mysticism of lovemaking and romance.

"Okay," said Bill, "it's time to dissect the tale. Who heard what and what does it mean?"

"I think the words to that song Debbie quoted are close to describing this sex mysticism," Joe said. "They don't cover the past or future, but they do cover the present. Imagine some sort of mental and emotional telepathy among all the lovers on any given night; and imagine you suddenly become aware of its existence, and you intentionally tap into all that emotion flowing around. It would be like the camaraderie which exists among a group of close friends, except on a universal scale."

"That's pretty much what TK said earlier with his force analogy," Bill put in. "Life creates it, it flows between us, and together binds us."

"'A rose by any other name, still smells as sweet'" was TK's comment.

Carol propped her arm on an armrest and buried her chin in her palm. "How about calling it another aspect of collective human conscience accessible by a personal experience in humanity?"

"That's how this topic got started," said Bill. "A common act which connects itself with humankind's past, present, and future. Have we gone full circle and not discovered anything?"

"Not really," answered TK. "The questions are: Is there mysticism? What is it? How is it? And why is it? Yes, there's mysticism. You've experienced it, I've experienced it; and if Carol is right, Debbie experienced it. And if your tale has moved the others as it has moved me, I think they will agree there is at least something out there turning on the young people. What it is, is the force of life, collective human conscious, camaraderie of the youth, or any other descriptive phrase used to express the goodness in humanity. The how and why may always remain a mystery."

Bill said, "Oh, yes, Carol, that thought about the change in Debbie -- would there have been a change in you?"

"That's too much a hyperthetical and academic question," Carol said. "We're talking about emotional involvement in a really heavy experience, and without that I couldn't answer about myself, but Debbie could have."

"What I was trying to get at was whether or not she really had the experience, or did I subliminally suggest that she have the experience. Like Joe said, I could have pre-programmed the outcome."

"I might have been wrong on that point," Joe broke in. "There's not much difference between being pre-programmed and being enlightened with knowledge about life in the real world. A real time experience is being enlightened about life in the world. Both methods say the same thing in different ways. What probably happened is that you educated Debbie about your newly discovered fact of nature, which she experienced the next night. Once the mind is opened by some change in events, the mind starts to see clearly what has always been."

"Well, now that you have been educated by Bill's tale, has your 'maybe' experience fallen off the fence?" TK asked Joe.

"It has a very heavy tilt to the yes side."

"How about you, Carol?" asked TK.

"Still a solid no. Besides, neither my personal experience nor our collective experiences will make or break this mysticism existence."

"That's true," the white-haired man agreed. "The objective of the survey was to determine if there are statistics to support the probability of its existence. One yes out of five show little probability. Four yeses out of five show high probability."

"That may be the objective," said Carol. "The fact is all the survey does is show how many of us have had a defined experience. Sometimes when the mind starts to see it sees only what it wants to. And what I think we are trying hard to see is a glorification of sex and love, when all there is to see is an elated experience between two people."

"But what's the real meaning, the true reason, for sex and love?" asked TK. "Are you sure it's just another biological function, just a means for perpetuating human existence?"

"Human existence depends on it," said Bill. "But like this drug culture thing, sex and love may have changed. It's turned into a pleasure game without any real meaning."

Carol answered, "That's not quite right. People's attitude, their state of mind, has changed. With four billion people on this planet, human existence is a sure thing, unless we blow outselves away with nukes. And because there are so many people, the current attitude is to limit the growth of the population. And because of that, sex and love have been reduced to a pleasure thing."

Bill replied, "So what Debbie and I discovered -- no, rediscovered -- is that ancient, primal, soul of humankind derives life and existence for the race at the expense of the individual members."

Joe complained, "Hey, I've got buzz words buzzing in my head -- soul of humankind, collective human conscience, forces of life, life creates, together binds us, 'Sounds of lovers in love'. Cloudy my mind becomes, but clearly I begin to see. It's the state of our mind, the figment of you imagination which unveiled this lovemaking mystery. The pleasure seekeres, they find only what they seek. The lovers, ahh the lovers, with insight into the wonder of it all; they find treasures, treasures of enlightenment, treasures of knowing what life is all about."

Bill stated positively, "End of subject. I'm satisfied that there really is a mysticism in lovemaking; and those words seem to cover the what, how, and why of it."

Interlude:

They arrive at Clemson and seperate to look for a sociologist and jedi master.

TK took off on his jedi hunt, and Harry, Joe, and Carol went into Hal's Dutys, a bar to meet up with Marty.

Bill and Barb headed in another direction. They had not walked very far before Barb's curiosity about Debbie got the better of her.

"Come on, Bill," said Barb, tugging on his hand, "let's go to the Upstairs first." Trying to sound indifferent, she added, "Who was Debbie?"

"Do you really want to talk about that now? It's a long story."

"Well, let's get started on it then."

"Debbie was an archaelogist I met my first day in Europe back when I was on that Med cruise in the navy. We talked a lot about history and everything else, and went out partying one night with a bunch of her friends. Anyway, we ended up at her place smokeing pot and making love all night long. That was when I first started speculating on this mysticism of love and its deepest meanings. I was really turned on and felt I learned everything there was to know about life that night."

"And she didn't have the same experience?"

"Not the first night. The next day I told here what it was like with me, and that night she seemed to experience it. At least that's what Carol saw in my tale. You heard the rest of the conversation."

"Have you kept in touch with Debbie?"

"No." Bill stuck his hands in his pants pockets as he walked. "It's a case of the proverbial ships that pass in the night, never to see each other again. Somehow I think that adds to the meaningfullness of the experience."

Barb looked thoughtful. "Have I ever turned you on like that?"

"Barb, you've missed the point. It's not the person; it's the experience itself. And I'm not going to lie to you. I haven't had that forceful of an experience with anyone since then. Yet they all have been extra special to me."

Postlude:

     That most wonderful thing, there's three points to the enlightenment.
     #1. It will happen when it happens. It will not be planned.
     #2. It will be more of a mental than physical experience, yet it will be both.
     #3. It will be the accummulation of everything you have and have not done before.