Chapter Nineteen "Season Nineteen"

1984

Highway 101/Hollywood/Los Angeles/Blythe, California

Prelude to More High Adventure With Gene and The Byrds

January ~ June

Six Months In Blythe, California

Once we all reached Los Angeles, I told Richard that I wanted to stop there and go buy the Firebyrd album, which I think by now was "out" for sale. He said that it was a good idea as we all needed to eat, gas up both our cars and take a couple hours break to rest from the constant driving on the highway. We ate our first dinner at Ben Frank's on the Sunset Strip; and then I went to Tower Records up the street, (That particular Tower Records store was/is the best, as they had "everything and anything" in music of every kind). I seem to remember that the Firebyrd album was indeed there and for sale, and I bought it, excited and eager to listen to it and find the words of that song Gene had dedicated to me.

Then after strolling along the Strip, stretching our legs, window shopping and renewing ourselves for more high-speed highway driving, Richard, Rob and I finally got back into our cars. Rob had ridden with his dad from Mendocino to L.A., and now he rode with me. He was about half a year away from turning ten years old. It was so much easier now, driving with him, than it had been back in 1975 when he was about a year and several months old and had just taught himself to unbuckle his car-safety seat, while I was driving on a curvy road in the Rockies on our way to Aspen where we stopped for a night on our way back from living in Boulder, Colorado to California to live in Los Angeles.

The drive from L.A. to Blythe was its own oddessy. The weather was so mildly warm and balmy after the cold, damp, dank, awful to me, climate of Northern California, and I loved it. The Santa Ana winds were blowing, too, which I've also always loved, except for when it got so strong on the highway that it was scary for me driving as our packed cars were nonetheless buffeted by its force. I remember later stopping at a Denny's somewhere around or in Indio on Interstate Highway 10. All famished again, we had a second big dinner there. After walking about, again stretching our legs, we got back on I-10 and continued on our way to Blythe. By now it was dark, around 7 or 8 p.m., perhaps even later. The Highway now turned into a long stretch of gradual, but uphill-grade, and even with the night air balmy-cool, we had to stop several times to put water in and let our radiators cool down before we could continue. After me bitching about my "always" having to have an old car, I was shown by both Rob and Richard, that even the new cars were having to do the same. There were a few cross-country trucks too. But those breed of trucks must be made really well for that kind of ruggedness and heat, because there seemed more trucks driving on past us than the ones pulled over and cooling off their radiators. We finally made it to Desert Center, after what felt like hours and hours later. I think it was probably not much more than one and a half hours, though it seemed like "forever". From then on the road leveled out for the remainder mostly, and in about one or two hours we arrived in Blythe.

It was really late, about 4 or 5:30 a.m. Though Richard already had rented a place, we were too tired to even try to find it, let alone have to move our sleeping bags and other stuff in even for the remainder of the night. So we got a motel room and, exhausted, stayed the rest of the night there. The room had its two double beds, and Rob and I slept in one and Richard in the other. I think we must have conked out the minute our heads hit the pillows.

After we were awake and left the motel, I remember feeling very impatient to get all of our stuff into Richard's new place and unpacked, so I could at last listen to my new Firebyrd album and see if the song Gene had dedicated to me was really on it. I'd finally be able to hear all the words of that song. I'd forgotten its name, but I knew I would recognize it by the melody. So I had the record player out even before all the other stuff had been unpacked and put in order. Rob and I shared the main house, actually a one bedroom trailer, with living room, kitchen and bathroom. We took turns, every few weeks, of who got the bedroom and who had the living room. At first I got the living room. Then as Rob had to get up early to go to school, we traded again, and I finally had the bedroom as mine. Richard had his own bedroom and his small office in the tiny guest house on the property he was renting. Richard had said that I must at least pay for half the food, but not half the rent, or anything else; and I was able to open a savings account to put money in for my own place in L.A. Our back yard was huge and at its end the Colorado River flowed along its course.

True to my intuitive knowing, when I first played Firebyrd, I found my song by its melody, and thus was able to put the tune to its title: Something About You Baby. When I finally heard the words of the song clearly for the first time, I started crying again, in happiness and because after all through the years, since our first contact in Ciro's; that night in the Whiskey's sometime in April 1968 when I'd told Gene that I was in-love him and loved him, etc.; Gene's and my marriages to Carlie and Richard, and then our divorces. He had finally "come-around-to-me". And he'd let me know it, through that song, in front of all those people, by his dedicating it to me. I then proceeded to play it over and over again, writing down the words. I knew, in my soul, and my "guts" that this was all true, that Carlie had told me the truth as well, and Gene really loved me and was in-love with me too. But the other, unsure, etc., part of myself, still had doubts. I was not really the "Liz" he had meant; I'd heard wrong that night; Carlie had just said that to be nice to me ; it had all been some kind of "trick"; my instinctual feelings were no more than wishful thinking; and that if I were to approach Gene and broach the subject, that I would be rejected and probably Gene would laugh at me and call me a silly little fool! It was all "just too good to be true"! So I shifted back and forth between utter and total joy and surety, (I wouldn't have to keep my self-defense walls up around my heart "against" Gene anymore), and despair due to all my fears. Everyone I talked to about this said I should follow, trust, my instincts, my "guts", what I already knew in my heart and soul. I clung to this in my times of darkest doubts and pessimism, and it helped me from going-over-the-edge in despair.

Richard's daughter, from his first marriage, Alana, who was six years older than Rob, came and lived with us for most of the time I was there. I think she came to us in February. She was into being a Punker, with a magenta mohawk and all the rest. She turned Rob and I on to Punk music and gave me a tape of the Dead Kennedys. She had tattooed herself, very beautiful artwork, with some black ink. I'd have liked to get a tattoo but I was too afraid of the pain of getting one, not to mention being afraid of getting skin cancer. Anyway, Rob and I loved her look and scene, and though neither of us cut our hair, we, Rob and I, shared a hair dye kit and dyed parts of our hair a light orange-red-auburn. I dyed all of the top part and made streaks in the lower part of my hair mixed in with its natural color, with Alana's help. Rob, who's hair is the same color as mine, (dark auburn-brown), dyed a big, two and a half inch, stripe from his forehead all the way to the back of his hair to its ends. It was like a cool skunk stripe, only orange-red. We all loved it and were awaiting Richard's sure explosion of disapproval. But he loved it too. Richard was so obsessed with keeping an image of being all straight and conventional, so that we were greatly and happily surprised. Richard was a bohemian-beatnik-hipster and stoner too. He told me about some of his students who "knew", and used to tease him, even grinding up chalk and making a line out of it and offering "a line of coke" to Mr. Buch! He just didn't want the rednecks to know. I think he was afraid he'd lose his job or something. Alana and I loved to be "weird" and shock all the lame rednecks in Blythe; and we'd always dress as outrageously as we could. Richard refused to be seen in public with us! He'd go off and act like he didn't know us when we went into the super market. So of course, we'd all, Alana, myself and Rob, do everything we could to "embarrass Dad". We used to listen to this Punk and Heavy Metal radio station that we could only get at night broadcast from Phoenix, Arizona, and I remember buying a Def Leopard album on cassette tape...Breakout.

Alana totally believed me when I told her about Gene and his dedicating Something About You Baby to me and she encouraged me all the time. She was very wonderful and easy for me to talk to; and she was really open to me as "Mom", although she called me "Lyz", and we were like sisters, as well. Her own mother had gone from being a totally "free-loving hippie" to an uptight prim-and-prissy type person. I don't know why. She's a nice lady; by now she's finally over that "prissiness". Then, however, she got on this kick of trying to keep Richard from having Alana live half the time with him, giving as her reason that neither he nor I had remarried anyone. To listen to her, we "lived in sin" with our boyfriends/girlfriends! She would not teach Alana anything about sex (except to say "don't do it") or birth control. So I took on her sex education, even taking her to my Ob-Gyn doctor for exams, tips on birth control, safe sex, and, I believe it was around this time Alana started taking The Pill. Alana went to the Blythe High School, where Richard worked as an English teacher. I'm not sure, but I think she somehow avoided having to be in her Dad's class. This suited both of them. Soon she had girlfriends from school who she'd spend nights with at their homes, and sometime one or more of them would stay over at our place. On these occasions Rob and his buddy, one of three brothers he'd made friends with as neighbors and at school, would play the Bratty-Pesky-Little Brothers act/routine. Rob and Alana sometimes had fights that could peel paint off the walls. I'd finally have to banish each to separate rooms because I was afraid they'd kill each other. Of course, in truth, they love each other very much.

Somewhere Richard met this guy who lived just across the Colorado River in Ehrenberg, Arizona. He had a girlfriend, and we'd pay Alana $5 to $10 to babysit Rob, while we'd all go out. First we'd get pot in Ehrenberg, get stoned at John Meyer's house (actually a trailer in the desert), then go out bar-hopping in Blythe, Ehrenberg and the resort town of Parker, Arizona, which was on the east side of the Colorado River. We all had some really fun times. Another of the fun things we did was every Sunday we'd all go to the Sand Drag Races. We would drink beer and smoke pot, and those Sundays were a blast. I remember one day Alana and I had gone to John's place, and hung out listening to music, smoking pot, and drinking sodas and cheap wine. Alana didn't really drink that much at that time so she had only the sodas. To Richard's and my dismay, Alana was more into speed and Acid. The only thing we felt OK with was that she smoked pot as we did. It's a good thing she wasn't into drinking alcohol, too, because I got so drunk and stoned that day at John's, I knew I'd get us killed if I even tried to drive. So I had Alana, who would turn sixteen that coming July but didn't have her license, nor even a learners' permit yet, drive us back to our place in Blythe. Every time we'd go to Ehrenberg, or Quartzsite, etc., we'd always have to stop at the California Customs station on our way home. Both Alana and I were crossing our fingers as we slowed down in the line of cars at the border. But we were lucky and the Customs guy just waved us through to continue. I'd been nervous with Alana having to drive fast on the highway, but she did just fine. Richard wasn't even angry at either of us. He was glad of my good sense not to drive drunk and very proud of Alana's good driving and let her know it.

(To be continued...As I remember)

Blythe/Los Angeles/Hollywood/Sherman Oaks, California

Moving From Blythe to Sherman Oaks

May

Scouting Out A Home For Myself and Rob in L.A.

It was in late May that I decided that now was time I made a trip to L.A. and see if I could find and get nice place for Rob and I to live in Sherman Oaks. Before leaving Mendocino my friend Ea O'Leno, and Carlie as well, told me that Gene lived in a house in Sherman Oaks. I hoped that my living there would increase the chances of Gene and I running into each other. I actually preferred Laurel Canyon, but reasonably priced places were only to be found by word-of-mouth and if one was lucky, from the bulletin board on the outside wall of the Laurel Canyon Market. In the newspaper Classifieds, or if one went through a realtor, the only rentals to be found were way out of my financial league. Since Rob didn't get out of school for summer vacation until the second week of June, I decided it would be best to make the trip to L.A. alone during these last two weeks of May. I packed a small amount of things in my car, including my cassette tape player and the Firebyrd album that I'd copied onto a cassette tape among a few others from my collection. I withdrew about half of my savings for renting a place, or, at the very least, paying a deposit to hold any place I did find that was within my means and acceptable to my standards.

I believe I set out on a Monday or Tuesday. I left Blythe at a time that would have me arrive in L.A. late at night so driving on the freeways would be less scary for me. Once I did arrive there, the freeways were almost deserted. However there were many big trucks and they made me nervous, especially while driving with one or more of them next to my car. But I made it to the Valley okay. I was exhausted after the long driving and found a nice motel on Ventura Boulevard, between the intersections of the Cajuenga Pass and Van Nuys Boulevards in Studio City. I paid for a week so I'd have a home-base while I was looking for the best place I could find to live. I'd brought about half an ounce of pot with me, and once I was settled in my motel room I went out and got a bottle of good red wine. In those days I used both to help me sleep. Of course I was always keeping an eye out for Gene, hoping we'd run into each other. The first night I just drank a couple glasses of wine and smoked a joint, while listening to the Firebyrd album. In next to no time I got in bed and was asleep within a quarter of an hour. I spent a few days looking through the newspapers, going to various places for prospective tenant interviews. All the places wanted first, last, and huge deposits. As I was despairing of ever finding a place, I finally succeeded in acquiring one. The rental was an apartment with one elderly man who wished to share his two bedroom dwelling in Sherman Oaks. It was located on Sepulveda Blvd., between Burbank Blvd. and Magnolia. Our apartment was also within walking distance to the Sherman Oaks Galleria. I paid the guy, Mr. W, (for Whatever-His-Name was), part of the first month's rent, luckily affordable for me. I also gave him a deposit. The place wouldn't be available until the second or third week of June, so that worked out fine.

It was now time to return to Blythe. I gathered up all my stuff, packed it back into the car and left the motel. I finally saw Gene, driving in the other direction, on Ventura Blvd. He was driving my favorite car, a Porsche 928 I believe. It seemed we had the same taste in so many things, including cars: sporty, fast, elegant, and expensive. But Gene could afford one. I was a tiny bit jealous that he could have a way cool car but I couldn't. I know he didn't see me as we passed each other. But at least I'd seen him. It felt like a good omen to me. I stopped at a McDonald's and got a big double cheeseburger with fries and a coke. I had a long haul back to Blythe. Then I went to Dan Tana's for a few drinks, then I got something more to eat along with lots of coffee after the drinks, to kill time until it was late enough so I'd have an almost empty freeway to drive back on. It was after 2 a.m. when I finally got onto I-10 heading out of L.A. and back to the bleak desert. I drove on until I reached Indio, where I got more gas and something to eat. Then I rested a bit and continued. The long uphill drive, having to stop every few miles to cool down my radiator sucked, but I got through it. I arrived at Desert Center just as the sun was coming up. I took another break, then after having something to eat and drink, I continued on to Blythe. I arrived there around eight in the morning or somewhere around that time. Rob and his dad were getting ready to leave for school when I got to the house. Then I saw they were fighting. Rob had left a glass of milk out and it had gone so bad that it was hardened to a solid in the glass. Rob was refusing to clean his room and Richard was at the end of his rope with him. Since I was there now, Richard went off to work, but Rob stayed behind. I think he'd been trying to get out of having to go to school so he could see me when I returned. I told him he would have to clean his room, that I was not going to fight with him, and that I was not going to let him leave the house until he did clean up his mess, including that solidified milk. For once he minded me with hardly any resistance. I told him about the place I'd got for us, and how we were going to be moving there in about two weeks. Rob was happy and excited about going back to live with me and in L.A. too. When Richard came home that early evening, the house was clean and he and Rob were buddies again. I told him of the place I'd found and put the deposit on and paid part of the rent. He was really glad for me and Rob too as well.

(More to come...as I remember)

June

Moving In

Rob and I set out, my car stuffed with our belongings. I think we left Blythe around seven or eight p.m. Once we got to Desert Center we found ourselves in a very strong blasting wind-and-sand-storm. At first I thought I could handle it. But as we drove on through the night the wind got to blowing harder; and the sand could be seen blowing in big sheets across the highway in front of us. I began to be afraid that the sand would somehow end up being blown into my car's engine. Even though the car was filled with stuff, making it heavier, the wind's force made the car shimmy and shake to the point where it was hard to keep it straight on the road, within the lane. Visibility was also becoming a dangerous problem. Finally we saw a turn off and a gas station. So I took it and we pulled into there. There were a lot of cars there with the same idea, to wait out the storm. There was plenty of space under the roof eaves for me to park the car under cover, hoping the sand would not be able to reach it. Rob and I went inside and got some munchies and drinks. We talked with the gas station owner and some of the other stranded people. We found out that the storm would probably last the rest of the night. It was also advised that people not drive in it if at all possible. So Rob and I stayed there at the gas station, as did several others. We got back in my car and tried to sleep; but that was just too difficult at first. Both of us were excited about getting to L.A. Also we both were wired up from our anxiety about the storm. It was a couple of hours before sunrise when Rob and I finally drifted off to sleep for about an hour or two.

Finally the storm let up and Rob and I continued on to L.A. Along our way, I kept worrying and thinking that something wasn't quite right with my car. So we pulled over at a rest stop and I looked under the hood. There was sand all over the engine! Since I had Triple A, I called them and told whoever I talked to about the sand being in the engine. When a guy in a tow truck arrived, he looked at my engine and said it wasn't anything to worry about. He told me that it was common in that area to have sand like I did. If it had gotten into the carburetor then I'd of had a problem, and he'd checked it and found it sand-free. So we both were very thankful that we would make it without my car being destroyed. Because of the delay we got to L.A. at around midday. The freeways were full of traffic. I hated it but gritted my teeth and pushed on. It was a great relief when we finally took the Hollywood exit ramp. From there on I drove us to the Valley on the ordinary city streets. We got to the apartment in Sherman Oaks and I paid Mr. W the remainder of the rent, and then we began moving in. We were at last in our new home. I think after the car was unloaded, and our stuff put away in our half of the apartment, still unpacked, Rob and I both were so tired we got in our beds and slept the rest of the day.

(To be continued...As I remember)

Sherman Oaks/Hollywood/Los Angeles, California

June ~ August

Four Months In Sherman Oaks

The first clear memory I have of Rob's and my living in the apartment in Sherman Oaks is that it had a big swimming pool. Our apartment building was on the corner of Sepulveda Boulevard and Albers Street. Of course the weather was hot, and Rob loved the pool. He swam like a fish, and the first day he got so sunburned that at first I worried that I'd have take him to the Hospital's E.R. But Rob didn't inherit as much of the sun-sensitive Irish skin like I had. So I remembered what my Step-mom, Betty, had taught me. Lipton Tea, or any black tea, has tannin in it and, it heals sunburn overnight. Since it had worked on me, I got a box and put half of the tea bags in the bathtub full of tepid water. I made Rob soak in that for about half an hour; I'd of liked him to stay in longer, but he wouldn't. The next day he was fine. I told him to go easy in the pool and sun, but Rob is as headstrong and stubborn as I am. He spent every day, almost all day, in the pool and sunning himself. I was hard pressed to get him into the apartment to eat. Of course in time, he got us invited to dinner, barbeques and such with some of our neighbors. Rob, being more of an extravert, soon made friends with almost everybody in the building. He would introduce me to each one as he met them. They were very nice.

Rob and I used to spend a lot of time window shopping at the Sherman Oaks Galleria, as well as real shopping there. I remember the time we went and saw Star Trek: The Motion Picture at one of its movie theatres. It was a really fun time. Eventually Rob and I began hanging out with these teenage kids. There were three girls between ages fourteen and seventeen, who babysat Rob for me, and, aside from Rob, there were a couple of boys close to his age. I'd take all of us out in my car and we'd cruise Ventura Blvd., go to the 'Galleria, and go to various other places including the movies. We also used to take walks in the warm summer evenings. I loved those summer nights, and since I'm a night-person, was at my best then; the daytime heat was still too much for me. My blood had been thickened from living in the cold climate of Mendocino-Northern California, and it took a lot out of me to be in the very hot 110 or more degrees in the daytime. So I didn't spend very much time outdoors in the day unless I had to. It was air conditioned in the apartment, nice and cool, and dry compared to Mendocino. Rob was out every day in that pool and basking in the sun. He got to where he was almost black. I envied him, but if I'd spent that much time in the sun I'd of ended up in the hospital. However, Rob got to where he'd come in and "drag" me out to swim with him in the pool and take a sunbath. I probably spent more time in the cool water than in the sun. I'd have to put on a t-shirt as well as move to the shade after less than half an hour. At first I ended up having to take a bath in Lipton Tea myself. But slowly my skin adapted as much as my kind can. I always wished I'd inherited the Cherokee skin like my Nana, my Grandpa K.D., and even my Mom. Rob had, and he also inherited some of the Jewish South African easy-to-tan skin type from his dad, Richard. Eventually I became somewhat more acclimated to both the heat and the strong sun.

I was always looking out to see if Gene was anywhere around. I remember once, while I was walking back from the Sherman Oaks Galleria, I took note of one of the streets I had to cross. It was a residential street, and the sign said "Ostego Street". I remembed it because the name seemed odd to me; I'd never heard of it before. It ran east-west and ended at Sepulveda, a couple of blocks south of Magnolia, I believe. That first time I saw Ostego Street I looked "in" at in from the corner and saw regular and small houses, and several apartment buildings here and there between the houses. There was nothing remarkable about it. Since I'd seen Gene that time in his Porche 928, I looked for it on every street I went on my walks, either alone or with Rob and our young friends, but had not yet seen it. I don't know why I was suddenly drawn to and interested in this street, but I looked for Gene's car somewhere there, without actually walking down the street. However I didn't see it, and so I continued on and walked home, dismissing Ostego Street as unlikely that Gene might live there...

(More to come...as I remember)

Sherman Oaks/Hollywood/Los Angeles, California

Middle of August

After Rob Returned to Mendocino

One day after Rob had gone back to live with Richard, who was back in Mendocino and Rob was to go to school there, I was driving home from grocery shopping, my car loaded with bags of food and stuff, and I saw Gene in his Porsche 928, who was about one or two cars ahead of me, turn left onto the street just ahead. I drove around the block of an adjoining street, Hesby Street, I think, then I turned onto Sepulveda Blvd. and turned up the street where I'd seen Gene turn into. I drove down in the direction of south, and saw his car parked in the driveway of a house that I seem to remember as being about mid way in from the corner of Cedros Avenue and Ostego Street. I took note of this as I kept driving until I got to Kester Avenue and took that to Sepulveda, back to my apartment building; I'd had to quickly return home to put all the food away. Shortly after, I drove back down Ostego Street to check and see if Gene's car was still there. I think I was trying to verify if this was actually were he lived; but his car was gone. I do remember that I picked up on implicit vibes of Gene from there. However I didn't ever actually see Gene there, and in time I kind of let Ostego Street sink down into my subconscious, at least for then.

(More to come...as I remember)

Sherman Oaks/Hollywood/Los Angeles, California

Last Two Weeks of August ~ Beginning of September

One day I went to the Sherman Oaks Galleria and bought this thin herring bone gold necklace I'd had my eye on for a couple of months. It was beautiful and I put it on in the store as soon as I'd paid for it. Then as I was walking around window-shopping, this rich-looking lady walked up to me from behind and asked me where I had bought my great bluejeans. I'd seen jeans made up like mine for sale in the department stores with price tags of over a hundred dollars! My jeans were originally bought for about $2.00 at a thrift store in Fort Bragg (one of the Mendocino Coastal towns) and as they had gotten holes in them, especially the seat-of-my-pants, I'd sewn patches made from cut-up older, rag-jeans, and I left a hole or two un-patched, like just below and above the knees. I wanted to laugh at the thought of anybody spending over a hundred dollars for "funky holey and patched jeans", but I held it back, not wanting to hurt the woman's feelings, and told her the truth about my "fabulous blue jeans". I had gone to Dan Tana's once in a while when Rob was still with me. Now that he'd gone back to spend his school year with his dad, I began going there as often as I could, since I now had no child-with-me responsibilities. I still missed Rob though.

Mr. W, our landlord-roommate, had become too erratic to live in the same apartment with and I gave him a month's notice. If I could have gotten an apartment all to myself and Rob, there in that same building, I'd have done so gladly. But there were no vacancies available just then. During the last two weeks of August, Mr. W found and let his new room-mate move in; the guy shared Mr. W's bedroom until I moved out. Mr. X was even nuttier than Mr. W. He had a phobia of cockroaches and was constantly spraying Raid all over the apartment except for my rooms. Finally one night I heard him moving around in the rest of the apartment and the smell of Raid was so strong I was retching and started to get asthma. I went out into the living room and kitchen with a scarf over my nose and mouth to find this creepy psycho-case dragging a huge box-like tank, so heavy it was on wheels and had a spray wand, the tank was labeled "Raid", and he was drenching the whole apartment with the foul insecticide! I told him, almost shouting, "Stop spraying all that poison in our living space!" He said something like, "...But I have to kill all the cockroaches..." Then I all but screamed at him that he was going to kill all of we Humans! I opened the front door wide and all the windows to air the place out. By now Mr. W had heard our arguing and got out of bed coming into the living room in his pajamas and robe to see what all the fuss was about. I told him what Mr. X was doing, pointed out the huge tank and sprayer-wand of Raid and said that guy was going to kill us all if he didn't stop immediately. Thank God Mr. W took my side, and demanded that Mr. X discontinue spraying Raid everywhere, and to take the tank out of the apartment and store it in the underground garage. I was very glad Rob was not there to be exposed to all that insecticide. I couldn't wait to find another place and get out of there.

As much as I scoured the Classifieds for a decent place where I could live without room-mates (especially strangers, people I'd not known for at least ten years) every place wanted way too much for rent, and even if I could afford the rent, no one would let a tenant move in without paying first and last month's rent plus a huge, expensive deposit. I was finally forced to, "at the last hour", get a single apartment in the worst slums of North Hollywood, in the only place I'd found that would rent by the week with no 1rst/last/deposit. But the tiny apartments were totally shabby, and they all had their population of cockroaches; and I had to pay $95.00 for one week. The place also had chain-link fences all around it with razor-barbed wire at the tops. It looked like a prison rather than an apartment building! I referred to it as the "Cockroach Apartments". As hideous as the place was, I was glad to put a bunch of my stuff, all packed in boxes which I had to stack in the single to make more room in my car. I also only put a futon like bed on the apartment bed's box springs, which was all there was of a bed to begin with, and I brought in a couple of dishes and towels, ashtrays, etc. I felt a tremendous relief to be alone in my own place, no matter how awful it was. I was finally away from Mr. W and his creepy new room-mate, Mr. X!

As this was the first week of September it was hot as hell. Of course there was no air conditioning; one had to open all the windows. Once I'd unloaded my car enough I took a much needed and desired bath. After my bath I dressed in good looking jeans, high heels, a nice top and went to Tana's. Of course I hoped Gene would come in and at last we could sit together and talk, and hopefully, get together and go off alone. But he wasn't there. I'd only seen him one time in Tana's, on one of the nights I'd gone out there while Rob was still with me, and was being baby-sat by the eldest of the teenage girls we were friends with, along with some of the other kids. Anyway, Gene didn't see me, though I was at the bar; he was all dressed up in a suit and tie, looking very nervous, sitting with some older guy, also dressed in the same fashion. They were at a table in the other restaurant room. From the appearance and vibes, I gathered Gene was negotiating some music-related business thing. So I just stayed at the bar and didn't make any moves to get Gene's attention to me. I sent "good luck and success" vibes to him from my mind-heart-soul. Otherwise I sipped my drinks and chatted with the bartender and whoever was sitting near me at the bar. Anyway, this night in September, aside from hoping Gene would come in, I was escaping having to spend any more time than I had to at those horrible digs I'd had to move into for the week. I was also hoping to run into any other of my old friends who might somehow help me find a decent place, in either Laurel Canyon or at least somewhere in West Hollywood, or Hollywood. It was twenty degrees cooler on the "Hollywood/L.A." side of the hills that make up the San Fernando Valley. I just could not yet stand the heat in the Valley, not to mention the Cockroach Apartments From Hell that looked like a fucking prison into the bargain! And I'd not really seen Gene, except in his Porsche driving around, parking in that driveway that day, etc.

It was on this night that I met Jim Nash...

(More to come...as I remember)

Hollywood/Los Angeles, California

Enter J. N.

September

In Dan Tana's

I was sitting at the bar trying my best not to think of the Cockroach Apartments, while sipping my way through my second glass of wine and smoking cigarettes. I'd had a little pot, too, smoking it in my car before entering Tana's. Along with the wine it soothed my jangled nerves. Of course I was longing desperately that Gene would come in, as well as any other of my old friends who might be able to help me find a decent place of my own, or at worst, let me stay at their place until I did get my own. So far I hadn't seen anyone I really knew aside from Jimmy the maitre `de, the bartender and one or two of the wait-staff.

I always liked to draw little artworks on the cocktail napkins, and this is what I was doing when a guy came and sat down next to me at the bar. He then started talking to me. I was really not in a mood to talk to some pushy stranger guy. He claimed that he knew me from the Troubadour days, and he asked my name. I did not really remember him from then or any time, but there was something vaguely familiar about him, so maybe he was right. I told him my name, Lyz, though I had gone by my middle name, Diane, in the first few years of the Troubadour days. I hoped he'd just go away at first. But then he bought me a drink and asked me if I'd like to go to a movie with he and his friend "Gene". I didn't dare ask "Gene who"? However as I had nothing else better to do at the moment, I accepted his invitation after chatting a bit about people we apparently mutually knew from the Troubadour days. Something inside just told me he wasn't some "stalker-rapist-psycho". I kept my wishes in check, inside myself, with some effort, to not have or get any expectations, etc., one way or the other regarding just which "Gene" I was about to go a movie with along with Jim Nash. That is who the guy sitting with me at the bar had introduced himself as.

I believe we had another drink or two, and then we left Tana's and drove to a little movie theatre on Sunset Blvd., a couple of blocks east of Fairfax. The movie started at around eleven thirty p.m. or midnight. Jim told me, while on our way, that we would be meeting "Gene" there. Once we arrived I was glad I'd kept my expectations, hopes, etc., nurtural. This Gene turned out to be about my father's age. Jim introduced us, and the man's name was Gene Vier. He was a very nice and amiable person. Then Jim told me we were seeing the movie, Cloak and Dagger, I believe its name was, and it was starring Dabny Coleman, who was a friend of Jim's and Gene's both. They told me a little bit about him, and that he was a Tana's regular as well. The movie was really good and I enjoyed it very much. After it ended we all went back to Tana's. On our way, Jim told me that Gene Vier was the film critic for the Los Angeles Times. So we'd gone to the movie for free.

Once back in Tana's Jim insisted I have a "real drink", since he considered wine not to be so. I let him order a Jack Daniels on the rocks. After that and another one, I do not remember now who else Jim and Gene V. introduced me to, but there were several. Then it came to closing time. I told Jim about the Cockroach Apartments. He insisted on accompanying me back there. I wasn't into what I figured was on his mind, but the idea of having him with me in that creepy and shabby place made me feel a lot safer. I figured I'd just let him know I wasn't into it if he suggested sex, and make up some excuse. However I was a bit drunk and he was persistent, and eventually my resolve just faded. I was feeling alone and stressed, so the sex was actually therapeutic in its own way. He told me that we'd go out and have a good breakfast in the morning, which we ended up doing. Jim also knew my old friend, Johnny Ponce, and called him from the restaurant's pay phone, putting me on to talk at the end of Jim's half of the phone conversation. Johnny was really glad to hear from me. We made arrangements to meet him that night at Tana's, after he got off work from his job as a waiter at the Beverly Hills Hotel's Polo Lounge.

After leaving the restaurant, I believe, (I'm not exactly sure this was what we did but it's the first thing that comes to my mind as I seek to remember what happened the day after I'd met Jim), we went to visit one of Jim's friends, a guy named Ronnie Barron, who Jim told me had been the original "Dr. John" of Dr. John & The Night Trippers. He lived in an apartment in Van Nuys, in the San Fernando Valley. We stayed there for a few hours; and I believe, we had lunch or an early dinner with Ronnie and his wife and kids. I can't remember any of their names now however. I think it was after we left Ronnie's that Jim had us go to Tana's, where he'd left his car, a tiny Fiat; then we returned to the Cockroach Apartments. Jim helped me to put all of my things back in my car and out of that dump of an apartment. He also went to the office with me to get my week's worth of money I'd paid, that $95.00 refunded to me. However they would only give me $50.00 back, giving out the usual bullshit about them having to keep the $45.00 because I'd spent one night there, and they said they had to have it also, to "clean" the apartment for a new rental.

After that I don't remember very much what else we did. We still had several hours before we'd be meeting Johnny Ponce at Tana's. I do remember, and it must have been a bit later still, that we went to the House of Pancakes that is next to Barney's Beanery, and we had a big meal of cheese burgers, etc. Then Jim took us somewhere else for drinks, and I parked my car on a street just in back of Tana's where it was safe and wouldn't be towed away. I then rode in Jim's Fiat with him. We may have gone to another movie in Westwood, but I really can't be sure we did so this day, after so long. Finally we returned to Tana's at ten-thirty or so, after checking on my car. Johnny would coming in at around midnight or 12:30 a.m. So Jim and I hung out in Tana's drinking and chatting with people. I met a couple more people too.

When Johnny Ponce came in, he was very happy to see me and we had a big hug. I'd first met him in the Troubadour days during 1970. Johnny was never my boyfriend or lover. We'd both been in psychotherapy, with entirely different doctors, and had started our acquaintance talking about that. He was about ten years older than I, and we became like older brother and younger sister. I was so glad that he remembered me. Jim told him of my situation, and immediately Johnny told me that he lived in a two bedroom apartment, and that I was more than welcome to stay in his other, unoccupied, bedroom, and share the place with him. I offered to pay half of his rent, but he said just to give him $50 a month to help with utilities, etc., and all would be fine. So that's what happened. We stayed in Tana's until they closed, then I followed Johnny in my car, with Jim following me, and we all went to Johnny's place on Bimini Street. It was in what Johnny called "Korea-Town" and what I thought of as "almost-Downtown-L.A.". This was somewhere around Vermont Ave. and Beverly Blvd.

I brought all my stuff in from my car, with Jim's help, and put it all in Johnny's extra bedroom, now "mine". It would end up being my home for most of the rest of 1984, and then again, later, in the future, for about six months of 1986. After putting all my things in my room, Johnny made a late supper and night-caps for himself, Jim and I. Finally it was getting really late, and Jim, after giving me his home phone number in West L.A. where he shared an apartment with some guy, Bobby, I think he'd told me the guy's name was, left, saying he'd, call me the next day. So I moved in and lived at Johnny's house. It was really nice. Jim and I began dating, and he took me to meet other people as well as out to great places.

I remember next, clearest, it being still September in L.A., and it was so hot! It must've been 114 degrees, and it's always twenty degrees cooler on the Hollywood/L.A. Side of the Santa Monica Mountains. Johnny really liked all the art I'd done since we'd last seen each other, and kept encouraging me to paint on huge canvasses, which I still haven't gotten around to yet. We'd meet at Tana's, hang out, and then Jim would come in at around one p.m., having gotten off his job as a cab driver. Sometimes I went places with Jim; or I'd do various and sundry things with Johnny and some other friends. I kept hoping I'd see Gene, anywhere, and try some way of telling him I knew now that the song, Something About You Baby, he'd dedicated to "Lyz" at the Caspar Inn in November of 1983, was for me, and thank him. I also wanted to tell him that my feelings about the words of the song were totally mutual; and say "it's about time�", etc. I was of course also hoping we could finally get together.

Finally one night sometime during October, I was hanging out in Tana's, waiting for Johnny to come in; I came out of the bathroom and there was Gene sitting at the bar, in the seat right at its corner. Without even thinking I just exclaimed, "Gene! Hey you're here! I'm really happy to see you...", and I threw my arms around his neck and planted a substantial kiss on his cheek. He was taken by surprise; however I felt rather slighted by him. But he was nice to me and returned my greeting. However I just felt like I should leave him alone and wait until he decided to respond to me with more affection and enthusiasm. So I ended up sitting at one of the small tables, right across from where Gene was sitting at the bar. Later I saw some woman who looked older than Gene come in and sit at the other end of the bar, by the entrance door, and he got up and went over and joined her there. So I guess he'd been waiting to meet her at Tana's. I just kept my distance and tried to make myself see that this just wasn't a good time to try and connect with Gene.

Finally Johnny came in, and we shared the small table. Now I felt a little less vulnerable about Gene. Johnny bought me a Beck's Beer, as that was the beer at that time; everybody was drinking it. Anyway, after we were sitting there for awhile, I noticed Gene had returned and was sitting at that same seat at the bar where I'd first seen him. He greeted Johnny heartily, and started talking with him. I just sat there and tried to feel part of the conversation and company, though I remained quiet unless I was spoken to. Gene looked at Johnny and said, "Nothing ever changes, does it?" Johnny said something in reply which was fitting with whatever he and Gene seemed to be talking about. They kept chatting. I think Gene left then, and said, "Goodnight", to me as well. So my feelings felt somehow and somewhat mended. Later, after we got back to Bimini Street and Johnny's place, I asked him if Gene had been talking about me, when he'd made that comment about "nothing ever changes", and Johnny said no, that it was something else altogether. That improved my feelings and mood somewhat more. I realized I just had to be patient with Gene, and wait for him to approach me, rather than push myself on him. I wrote all about it in my private journal, and then went to sleep.

Time passed, and I settled into dating Jim Nash. We went out together more and more frequently. Gene hadn't come into Tana's after that most recent night I'd seen him, that I knew of; and so I just kept him tucked away in the depths of my soul. Jim and I went up to Mendocino for Thanksgiving. I flew up there alone, with Jim paying my air fare; and I stayed overnight at the home of some of Jim's show-people friends. He had driven out of L.A. a few hours after I'd left on the plane, and met me at What's-Their-Name's place. Then we drove to Mendocino the rest of the way. I remember Jim commenting that my friend, Linda Shaw's house, on E Road in Albion, looked like rural Kentucky. We spent only a couple of days there, then returned to L.A. We went out several times to see Ronnie Barron do shows at a club on the corner of La Cienega and Santa Monica Boulevards. Ronnie was a great piano player, singer and a killer Blues singer. We had a lot of fun at his shows and when we visited his home.

Somewhat to my dismay, Jim and I were becoming an "item" in Tana's. But Jim was, for the most part, at this time at least, fun to hang out with; and he always introduced me to cool and interesting people. I met Tommy Slocum, and some other people who's names I cannot remember now Jim also told he was a friend of Gene Clark's. I usually took all of what he told me with a grain of salt until I could see if he was being truthful or lying. However, it became clear to me in time, that he really did know most of these people he claimed to. Jim was always telling me, and everybody he'd not known previously, that he was a native born Texan. And he talked with this accent which I couldn't quite credit as genuine. Every now and then he'd lapse into a kind of New York accent. All of my mother's side of my family were from Texas, and my Nana had always retained her accent. I also don't remember any of my Texas relatives being so obsessed with being Texans, nor behaving in some kind of "stereo-type/exaggerated role-playing" way, trying to impress on all or anyone what genuine Texans they were. It was pretty apparent that Jim did.

At some point Jim started beseeching me to be his wife, and have my tubal ligation reversed so I could have a kid with him! I kept trying to tell him I wasn't into making such commitments to him, but he would not hear it. He'd take me out to some "fabulous" place, or spend a lot of money to buy me things, etc. It got to the point that I was so exasperated with him, that I finally said "Ok, yes, I'll marry you, but I'm not reversing my tubal ligation�", just to shut him up. Then the next time we were in Tana's, Jim told everybody there that we were engaged. I felt very uncomfortable with this, and I hoped Gene wouldn't ever hear of it! We then got into several fights. I told Jim I was not going to marry him, but would be willing to live with him at some point. As the December holiday season approached, I got to where I just had to get away from Jim for awhile, and so I took a flight to San Francisco, and from there to Mendocino. I stayed at Richard and Nancy's (Richard's oldlady since sometime around 1981 or 82) house. Rob was there of course, and I decided to spend his Holiday vacation there, instead of having him fly down to L.A. Jim called me on the phone every few days. I began seeing Dr. Rick again; we had come to an agreement of being friends and on-and-off lovers. I'd originally met Rick through Richard, who is my second ex-husband and Rob's father. While I was there Nancy had to go to L.A. for some stuff she had to do. So I got to drive her Volvo, which was very fun for me. My own car had since "died", and Jim got me $50 for it when he sold it to some junk car dealers. Anyway, I had a nice Holiday season.

Every time Jim would call me, he would begin to plead with me to live with him. He kept on saying that we should move to Austin, Texas to live together there. I finally gave in and agreed to do so. Ea, a mutual friend of Gene's and mine, had told me during my stay in Mendocino, that Gene was again back with that Terri Messina woman. I felt hurt, insulted, angry and jealous, so that's a lot of what made me decide to live with Jim in the first place. By now it was the end of December 1984. Richard and Nancy kept their relationship going by talking every night for three to four or more hours on the phone together. We, Richard and I, would go out to the Caspar Inn and dance. And if Dr. Rick was there, I'd usually go home with him, and Richard, not minding at all, would go off with other people, mostly friends of his and Nancy's. Jim kept in touch with me via phone, and the last week of December, he and I made arrangements for me to fly to New York and meet him there, and then we'd drive from there to Austin, Texas. At first Jim expected me to use my own money to get to New York. But I didn't really want to spend it for that. Richard told me that I should get Jim to pay for my travel, and whatever other, expenses, if he wanted badly enough for me to live with him, or else I should not go to Texas. I'd almost broken up with Jim several times, anyway, and he'd get me back by groveling and apologizing to me and spending more than just a little money on me, taking me to great places, parties, etc., and promising me whatever it was I wanted at the time. Dr. Rick was aware of my relationship with Jim, not to mention Gene Clark, and he was jealous, so he refused to take me out to the Caspar Inn for New Year's Eve. I remember spending the night with Dr. Rick on the night preceding New Years' Eve, and he asked me not to go to New York. However Jim had mentioned that he was staying with Gene and his Byrds' 20th Anniversary Tribute tour at a hotel in New York. So by my going, Dr. Rick became pissed off at me and was barely civil to me. Richard and I got some coke and we went out to the Caspar Inn together. It wasn't like we were a couple; it was more like we were brother and sister. I'd dance and chat with "my" people, and Richard would do the same with "his" people; and then we'd dance together as well. It was a fun NYE.

With both of us feeling a bit hung-over, on 1 January 1985, Richard drove me to the San Francisco airport and I took a jet out of there to New York. It was actually to Newark, New Jersey airport. I arrived there at about one in the morning.

(More to come...as I remember)