Wayback Machine to Choir Camp

It was the summer of 1968, my 9th grade year. I was 15 years and two months old and still saw many futures dangling in front of me, bright enticements. I was at Church Choir Camp in Big Sur with my church's children's choir. I had been going for years and was one of the oldest in the choir. In fact, that year I was head chorister.

I look at that me from back then in amazement. How can somebody be that unworldly and libertine at the same time? I was like lost Lolita but only saw a ballerina in the mirror.

Anyway, that year I was there with Vicky Weidner. She had been my dearest and closest friend that year. We were in the accelerated lanes in 9th grade together at Terman Jr High and both lived in Barron Park. Barron Park was an unincorporated piece of Paradise now part of Palo Alto, California. At the very end of the long road out to El Camino Real, aka the rest of the world, there was a market with a bell hanging on the eave. That was the fire bell and someone rang it to round up the volunteer firemen.

We were irresistible, we thought, in our short cut off jeans and our hippie beads and braids and ballerina thighs. I feel a tinge chagrined now, maybe (maybe not) but back then it was fun. Trust me, it was so much fun.

At Choir Camp, the kids were in tents in groups. Vicki and I had a tent. If there was anybody else in there, I feel sorry for them. We would deliberately shine the flashlight so the boys could watch our silhouettes undress. Reminds me of that Halestorm song, I Get Off on You Getting Off on Me.

Keep in mind, Vicki had never even kissed a guy yet. We were flexing our powers.

One afternoon, we were at this little corner market by the coastal highway turnoff to the camp. We were allowed to walk up alone since we were 15 and I was head chorister.

There were two hippie boys sitting on logs outside, playing guitars and singing. It was like some playful angel set us up with the perfect scenario for the moment. I mean, these guys were so adorable and sexy. Not great singers but you can't have everything.

They had long wavy hair and one wore a blue bandanna sweat band. He had brown hair. He was for Vicky, we decided. The other one had golden blond hair and I named him Romeo in my head. I have no idea what their names were. I am fairly certain Vicki and I lied and told them fake names anyway, like any self respecting kids on the loose.

So they called their guitar and "axe". I still think that is stupid, frankly. Neither of us had ever heard that but we were, for the most part, two church choir camp girls. What did we know?

We made secret plan to sneak out and meet them there that night after everybody was asleep. Can you believe how cliche that is? Made me guffaw to remember it.

We snuck (sneaked, sneakted?) out by pretending to go the the bathroom in the camp restroom down the same path that led to the little tiny church. There was a flood many years later that swept everything away, along with the corner store. That makes me feel odd.

The four of us intrepid fools decided to go off into the woods to make out, not for a moment thinking how reckless and idiotic that was. It was so damn much fun, like the time Vicki and I took a bubble bath together in our bathing suits and the time we turned all the radios in the house full blast to different stations then ran around.

So, Vicki had never been kissed, so this was a big moment. That was our whole plan, our whole agenda, to get her first kiss done. I was with her when she lost her virginity too. Well, not at the time she lost it but I was staying with her and her family that summer in Virginia Beach after we graduated from high school.

She had taken to calling herself the "virgin Mary" so we made a plan then too.

We found the perfect spot and I started kissing whats his name to break the ice for her. The bandanna man started to kiss her and it was all going just fine until she screamed and then he screamed because she did and she screamed again, all because he tried to slip his tongue in her mouth. Of course. What did she expect?

I started laughing. I turned on my flashlight and saw her face then started laughing again and it was all over, we were both laughing hysterically.

When that happened, we just gave into the moment.

So we finally got control of ourselves and asked the poor mystified hippie boys to walk us back to the camp. They were oddly compliant, come to think of it, looking back. Things were so easy then it seemed.

So we made it back the the road down to camp because it was too dark to find the path to the tents. Then we saw one of the camp "counselors" aka adults who came to have a camp-out with their friends, too.

So we panicked when we saw him. It was the assistant minister.

We were scurrying like crazed chickens to the side of the road, the hippie boys fighting the hippie girls for the safest place to hide from the obese assistant minister coming slowly up the road.

We wondered why on earth he was doing that at the time. It turned out he was looking for us. Which we found out the next day and almost choked on apple juice trying not to laugh.

Anyway, the four of us fought our way to a big hollow tree and all pushed inside. The problem was, it was also bottomless and dropped almost straight down into the creek by the road. So we slid rather violently down and ended up stacked one on top of the other, straddling the one below. Which was absolutely hilarious, even the two boy hippies were laughing themselves silly.

When we finally had our strength back we parted company, girl hippies going up the other side of the creek to the tents. Where they went, I do not know. In my mind, they have not changed one tiny bit from that moment when we parted company, covered in mud and about 25 percent in love.

He was a good kisser.

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

Thanks for another trip back in your way-back machine. I must say things were mighty different for you than for me. I was a choir boy who never went to any camps, but oh boy, would I have liked to--especially one like yours. Never in the world could me and a buddy have just decided to go out and lose our virginity. Nope, we would've gone home frustrated, still wondering what it would be like. Different times and different places, but all good. It seems I used to go to Palo Alto for pizza when stationed at Moffit field.

[softlyfall]

Where for pizza? We used to love Shakeys
And we did not lose our virginity on that trip, just kissing
The losing virginity part was in Virginia Beach when we are 17 lol

[Samuel Dickens]

It was an independent, the name of which I don't recall. The pizza was really good.

[softlyfall]

I love it when paths cross, even in retrospect

[Lorry]

So, after giving this considerable thought, as well as an American theme tune, I have but one niggle with this tale, that niggle so much that I had to read it twice, because the niggle was really niggling and I wanted to make sure I hadn't missed something while I was busy niggling...
... So if the volunteer firemen were out of earshot, your house burned to the ground?
Wow! The sixties were strict! 😊
Could you imagine doing that kinda thing now? It would be like the world's weirdest checklist. "Taser... Check, rape whistle... Check, extra ammo clips... Check.
Changed days indeed.
Teenage girls in daisy dukes were awesome when I was a teen, but being a teen in the now sounds like such hard work.
And not a phone in sight, without a pair of hiking boots and blisters involved and the only Bluetooth around was if you chose blue flavour (yes blue flavour!) for your slush puppy, which you probably called a crushed ice and syrup drink. There were two flavours, red and blue, but I never like the red, it reminded me of slashed puppies 😊

[softlyfall]

hahahah slushie blue tooth, that is priceless

[Lorry]

I remember when our local store got a slushie machine, it felt like we were living in a jetsons cartoon. Before that, we only got them once a year when we visited the leisure centre with the only intentional icerink in the country. Remember, this is Scotland and despite it being summer, most leisure centres have ice rinks, because the weather sucks here. It wasn't just the slushies that were blue! 😊

[softlyfall]

I have never seen a natural ice rink except in movies. I would love to see Scotland, though. My 2nd great grandfather was born near Glasgow...came to America and became a gold rush miner.

[Lorry]

Because he saw how bloody cold it was gonna be and scarpered! 😊