Dear Ramone,
I know it’s been like 12 years since our cosmic paths collided but I still, to this day, think about you and wonder where I might be now had I joined you and your merry band of school-bus-driving hippies.
You and your fabulous head full of dreads, me in my flowing hippie skirts. Your baby soft hands seemed to find all the knots in my shoulders as you massaged them on the sidewalk in front of the Palace while your friends lovingly coaxed primal beats from their bongos in the background. The connection? It was instantaneous, magnetic and mesmerizing. You and your friends were just passing through on your way to pick mushrooms in Oregon and you wanted us to come with you. As my butterfly brain flirted over that possibility we walked, held hands and each other.
Those two days were completely infused with you; sketch books were filled with my impressions of you. Everywhere I went I would be chanting your name, rolling the R, filling myself with the simplicity of your name. Those two days were buttery and warm to me, they were like sinking into a bathtub of melted chocolate.
Ah, Rrrrramone, I will never forget you.
Auntie Wee
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