Disappearances

Everything that is ever thought or done by people disappears. All human reasoning and actions die, because the minute they’re done with, they belong to a time past and they don’t come back.

…Well, they may survive for a while, but they are on borrowed time.

What is history then…History is only what we keep hold of in order to explain the present in a way we like.

But things, things last. They last beyond the time when their significance has been forgotten.
-Morag Joss
Half-Broken Things

Twenty-five years ago today:

October 6, 1984
Saturday

I telephoned Sue Miller about Ole’s Waffle Shop for breakfast. She agreed and we are going to go. She mentioned that she had some news about Bonnie Jayne, our Alameda High School classmate and friend.

“Bonnie called me and she had a rearrangement of her custody hearing for her daughter, Crystal Joy,” Sue said.

Sue kept on going with the Bonnie stories. Bonnie was currently living with some guy named Melvin Jackson (possibly of Native American Indian descent) in Oakland somewhere. She had not mentioned plans of returning to Alameda but she was working nights at some factory where they make string beans. And during the day Bonnie worked at a Temporary Services Agency.
“Bonnie told me to say hello to you,” Sue added.
“I miss her, but there's always a story with her. She's always pulling a disappearing act.” I said.

PHOTO: July 1975,
A Photo I took of Bonnie Jayne
during our School Days

Suzy and I walked over to ‘Piggy Malones’, a card/gift shop. I purchased my fair share of cards and postcards (a full $11.00 worth). I returned home after that and got on the bike.

I decided to ride via Doolittle Drive and out into Lake Chabot and Castro Valley (one of my favorite getaway riding locales).

On my way I saw mom in her front yard, watering down a window screen. I stopped for a quick five minutes or so to bid her farewell.

I continued on the journey and saw dad walking on Harbor Bay Parkway. I stopped to talk to him for a minute. He smiled from ear to ear when he realized it was me. I guess Dad has decided to get serious about his weight (205 pounds) and do something about it. I was happy to see that he was taking this long walk. After our brief talk I continued on the journey to Lake Chabot.

I rolled my tongue at a few people during the ride and I think it phased their day—in a good way (especially the blond cyclist that was going around the Lake).

I saw two little twin boys who were so cute. Little did I know at the time of riding that Mike Miller and I would be dancing with two twin girls from Danville that very evening! They weren’t all that cute.

After my ride and during my ride a thought crossed my mind.

‘If I ever got killed riding my bike I would want everyone to know that at the moment before the collision I would be thinking, “Oh My God…No No No!” However, just before the collision I had and have had the greatest of greatest feelings while riding my bike. Death on my bike would hurt (most definitely) but once it was over it will have been my Joy Ride to (Death) the End. My spirit will surely live on—as well as my memorabilia. Things tend to last a long time.'

I still want to start my People File. I will do it. I can even will a personal item to each person as instructed within each file. What a great idea.

Mom and Dad came over to my pad while I was riding my bike. Mom made my place all the more ‘spic and span’. She loves doing it. I love her thoughtfulness for doing so.

Mike Miller and his friend, Greg Manachevitz called and we were all going to go out. I had previously telephoned Paloma but she did not return my call while I was at home. When I tried calling her again she was not at home.

Mike Miller drove Greg to some overweight girls’ house in Oakland on 8th Avenue. Mike and I met her seventeen year old sister. They had a 5th grade chubby brother, too. He reminded me of me when I was that age.

Mike and I ended up leaving and ate at NIKKO’s in San Francisco on Van Ness. We walked by the Hard Rock Café but we didn’t get in the ridiculous line. It was hard finding a parking space. I was happy that Mike was doing the driving for a change. We cruised around the Kabuki Club and then headed over to Barnaby’s. I enjoyed one Long-Island Iced-Tea and I Madras cocktail. We had a good time hanging out there. We met some twin girls from Danville and danced with them. Though I like Mike a bit more than I should—we always have a good time when we go out.

On our way home some idiot went through a red light illegally. I am really glad that Mike went by his instincts and did not “GO” on the green light or we both may have been “gone” at that very instant.