12 comments/ 25956 views/ 9 favorites Balboa Park By: JakeRivers Thanks to techsan and Lady Cibelle for their help with editing. Balboa Park soccer stadium is located along Interstate 280, just north of Geneva Avenue in San Francisco. It is a short walk from the Balboa Park BART Station. It has been a hotbed of Premier League Soccer in San Francisco for generations. To make it clear, the two chapters, LIFE … HERE AND THERE and SUMMER OF LOVE are time in the past and the other four chapters are time in the present (late 1967 and early 1968). * RED CARD ROMANCE Balboa Park I looked at him - he wasn't exactly cowering and I made another quick decision. If he broke his hand against my hard head the OU alumni club would lynch me. I walked away, muttering to myself, "Damn! That was another of life's lessons learned." Several weeks later Jimmy and I talked it over and we decided it was time for me to try something new. I cleared things up and headed west. I had an offer from The Bank of California to develop algorithms for computing interest in their bond department. It seems that FORTRAN was not accurate enough for the huge sums they worked with. It was something I could do and I was looking forward to the move. * A GUITAR, TWO MANDOLINS AND A CONCERTINA The next day I showed up at the Athens restaurant right at seven. I wasn't sure what to wear so I put on a sports coat and slacks but left the tie in the car … just in case. I knew that in the Latin culture showing politely late was de rigueur and there were too many risks for me in showing up too early. What if I had to spend a half-hour alone talking with Jacinda's father, Theodoros? There were about a dozen people there but no Jaci. Her brother, the walking wounded was there, sitting on a sofa wearing shorts with his leg extended and the thigh heavily taped. I walked over and introduced myself, "Hi, I'm Jimmy Moore; I was in the front row when you were taken out yesterday. How's the leg?" "Hello, call me Teddy - everyone does. I've seen you around the stadium a lot on Sundays … don't you have a life?" I laughed at that. "The leg is better that I have any right to expect. They thought the femur was broken but it's just a nasty bruise and cuts from the cleats that took twelve stitches. I'll be out until the spring season. Say, thanks for helping Jaci. I didn't see it but one of the guys saw the jerk that threw the ball at her." Laughing, he continued, "He also heard and saw what she did to make him mad. She does have a temper!" "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind." "I guess you met my dad?" At my nod, he continued, "He can be intimidating but if you show the family respect and honor you will never find a more loyal friend. Anyway, thanks. Jaci is special and has a lot of friends." Deciding to risk it, I asked, "Uh, many boyfriends mixed in those friends?" Teddy looked behind me at an arriving Jacinda, "Here she is now. Let's ask." Jaci smiled at him and then me, a bit mystified, "Ask what?" I gave Teddy a dirty look but he ignored me, "Jimmy here was wondering if you have many boyfriends. What do you think, Sis?" Jaci rolled her eyes, "Yeah, I have so many that I can't keep their names straight. Thanks for reminding me of Jimmy's name … I would have been really embarrassed to have had to ask him." She took my hand and started walking around and introducing me to people. "I forgot to bring your jacket. Thanks! I had no idea what your beer had done." Here she blushed prettily. "You'll have to come to the house to pick it up. Maybe dad will let you take me home," she added in a teasing voice. "I guess I shouldn't wear that blouse when the Scots play. Or when you are around, huh? What do you think?" I turned a little red but stood my ground, "I uh, I liked it." She snorted and said, "Yeah, I'll just bet you did." "Say, some of the guys are going to do a kind of 'roast' on Teddy to give him a hard time for falling down hurting his leg and only helping with two goals. Can you think of anything to add?" I looked over and saw a small band setting up for the dancing after dinner and saw one of the guys had a trumpet. "Yeah, when the time comes, just say something like, 'One lesson for you from all of this … the next time you have to play the Scots, just tell them, Never on a Sunday.' And I'll take it from there." She nodded then went off to check on the food. The restaurant was providing some appetizers and dinner was potluck. I went over and talked to the trumpet player - he was okay with my borrowing his instrument. I was pleased his trumpet was decent quality. People kept coming in. Jaci introduced me to her mom, Dori, her oldest brother, Dominic, and her younger sister, Elissa. Her mom was sweet and smiled a lot … and didn't speak much English. Dominic was sturdy and pleasant. Elissa was an imp - I could see she would be a problem. She was about twelve and when Jaci introduced us she stood then and rubbed her nose with her finger. Clearly, someone had been talking. After everyone ate - and I had no idea what half the stuff was - they did the roast and it was mostly funny and nothing in a mean spirit like sometimes happens. When it came time for Jaci she ad-libbed a bit. "Teddy, we all know how much you love to play against the Scots, I mean you play for a few minutes, get a couple of assists and sit out the rest of the game. I think the next time you play them, just never, ever, play them on a Sunday." Not exactly what I'd said, but it would work. I was already on the stage holding the trumpet. I jumped into a Dizzy Gillespie arrangement of Never on a Sunday, a kind of bluesy, jazzy version. After about twenty seconds I segued into something like the Tijuana Brass version … loud and very up-tempo. When I stopped I wasn't sure if it had been such a good idea. Everyone was staring at me like I had three heads. Then Teddy started clapping and everyone joined in. I gave the horn back and the band started right up with a dance number. I looked for Jaci but someone already had her on the floor. The guy was tall and skinny with black curly hair and eyes that were a kind of smoky black. I shot several arrows in his back but it didn't seem to bother him. As the first number started, Elissa stepped up and grabbed my hand, pulling me on the floor. Jaci saw us and laughed as she shrugged helplessly. Elissa actually danced pretty good and started right off with, "Do you love Jaci?" I figured, what the hell? "Sure, kid. I know it hopeless because she said she has all these boyfriends, but what can I do?" She nodded sagely, earth mother, wise in the ways of love. "Yes, it is a problem. Maybe I can help you out? Should I?" Oops - that backfired. At this stage I figured I had nothing to lose by having her on my side. "Sure, Elissa. I know my heart will be broken without your help. It's a shame that you aren't older. Then maybe I wouldn't have this problem." She smiled at that. She seemed to be enough of a woman to know that I was putting her on. Jaci was walking up as the dance ended and Elissa told me, "Quick, kiss my nose?" Without thinking, I did. Jaci arrived, finally ready for a dance, and asked, "What was that all about. Do you kiss all the girls on the nose or just those in the Nikopolidis family?" I didn't answer - I could be mysterious too. I also kissed her on the nose, eliciting a smile, and we started dancing. It was a dream to hold her in my arms. The band was playing a slow, instrumental version of 'I Left My Heart in San Francisco'. I pulled her in a little closer and she didn't resist. I started to ask her for another dance but a smooth looking older guy, about my age, stepped in and held her close for two dances. I found out later he was a distant cousin and had just arrived from Greece. He looked kind of smarmy to me. He was a little taller than I was with black curly hair and teeth that lit up the dark corners of the room. I went back and simmered over a beer and then with some determination walked out and cut in before the second song finished. We started dancing again, not talking … both of us musing on whatever. She was probably missing smarmy man and I was admiring how wonderful she felt in my arms. Thinking of something, but not really thinking, I asked her, "Do you go on dates?" Made curious by my question, she asked, "How old do you think I am?" Thinking quickly how touchy girls were at that age - I had finally decided that she was sixteen - I added a year and said, "Umm, uh, seventeen?" She stopped, staring at me and abruptly disappeared, as girls were wont to do. I walked over and sat down next to Teddy. He looked over at me and asked how I was doing. "I don't know Teddy. Say, how old is Jaci?" Looking at a girl over by the bar he was distracted for a minute. "Oh, she will be twenty-one just after Thanksgiving. She's about a year-and-a-half younger than me." Twenty-one? No way! Damn. Okay, that explains the disappearing act. Teddy added, "Hey, you're really good with that trumpet. It was kind of funny but I don't think everyone got it." I sat there with Teddy while the band played out the set. It turned out later that they were from a soccer team down in San Jose. Elissa came by and I asked her where Jaci was. She gave me a look that said either 'you blew it kid' or 'wouldn't you like to know?' I saw Jaci a few minutes later over by the kitchen door but when I got there she was gone. I was walking by the stage where another group was setting up. This was both clearly the main event and a Greek group. They had a guitar, two mandolins and a concertina of some type. The guitarist was older and I assumed he was the leader. As I walked by he stopped me, "You were the one that played, 'Never on Sunday' a while ago, right?" I nodded and he continued, "Jerry, the guy with the trumpet earlier is over there drinking. He said you could use his horn again. You are good, really good. We are going to open with Zorba the Greek and I think it would be great if you joined us. You can do this, right?" "Sure, no problem. How do you want to do it?" "I had in mind something like Feuding Banjos. We will start together with an up-tempo beginning then you start over slow then we'll kick in. Each time we switch we pick up the tempo a little and at the end we play together, real up-tempo kind of stuff. Sound good?" I figured 'what the hell'. It looked like I'd blown my evening and any chance of a love life anyway. Who knows … might there be a real need for Greek trumpet players? "Okay, I'll start with a flourish and you kick in." The guests had seen the band getting ready and were moving towards the dance floor. I didn't see Jaci among them. I had really blown it! The bandleader tapped on the mike, "Folks, we're ready if you are for another night of dancing at the Athens. We have a guest, Jimmy Moore, that's going to help us with the first number. Let's show him how we dance in Greece!" I saw Jaci peeking from behind the kitchen door at the sound of my name. He nodded to me and I started off with a bright piercing intro with fast triple tonguing. At the end of the first phrase the band kicked and we let them have it fast and furious together for about a minute. Then I took it slow and stately with a nice pure tone. Then it went back and forth as we had talked about. We didn't rush it - the whole piece must have taken over ten minutes. When we got to the end everyone seemed to be dancing or going crazy or something Greek like that. Jacinda was standing on the stage beside me with a proprietary air about her and a big smile on her face. I wiped the trumpet down and sought Jerry out and thanked him. We chatted for a minute and I asked him if he liked jazz music. "Sure, man, we've played a little but we're not good enough to do it in public." "Give me your phone number and I'll set something up, okay?" I'd clearly made a lot of friends and for sure, everyone knew who I was. As I walked around Jaci held onto my arm like I belonged to her. I could live with that. I did get a chance to drive her home and before I walked her to the door I asked her, "Do you like jazz music?" "I don't know, Jimmy. What is it? * SUMMER OF LOVE The next two years, 1966 and 1967, 'The Summer of Love,' changed my life in many fundamental ways. I had a red 1964 MGB so I couldn't carry much with me. The bank was paying for the move so I boxed everything else up for the mover. I drove out of Norman on the first of July, planning on arriving in San Francisco on my birthday, the tenth. I took my time and drove around the back roads of northern New Mexico and Southern Colorado, enjoying the trip and the beautiful country. I blew through Utah and Nevada fairly fast leaving me time for a couple of days in Reno. I won a couple hundred at blackjack that pretty much paid for my trip. I came into San Francisco from the north, across the Golden Gate Bridge. There were some wisps of fog but I could see the myriad of sailboats out on the bay and my first view of the lovely white city spread over the hills. I wound up on Park Presidio and made my way to Clement Street where I had a nice lunch at a German restaurant. After I finished, I browsed the apartment ads over a cup of coffee and called one on Fourth Avenue between Lake and California. The owner, a nice Canadian lady, was waiting for me when I drove up. There were four flats in the building, two down and two up. All the entrances were outside so it seemed pretty private. She showed me around and it seemed suitable, except as being a place I could play my trumpet. I hadn't really expected to find a place I'd like without a lot of hunting, but this would do fine for a while. I could always use the mute and play it softly. At ninety-five dollars a month it was well within my price range of what the bank was paying me. It was a typical SF flat, a long hallway that ended in a family room (or dining room) with the large kitchen behind that. As you went down the hallway there were doors opening into the living room, bedroom and bathroom. There was also a door from the living room to the bedroom. I moved my stuff up and drove back to a small grocery on Clement and stocked up on food. I'd arrived on the ninth, the day before my birthday. I had nine days until I was supposed to start at the bank and I planned on spending it seeing the city and the surrounding area. I was a bit tired that first night so I dabbed some butter, a little salt and pepper and a splash of white wine on a Halibut steak and grilled it. With the rest of the Louis Martini Chardonnay, it made a decent dinner. I'd brought my small portable record player with me so I put on several random albums - Louis Armstrong, Duke Ellington, etc. - and organized what little stuff I had been able to bring with me. The owner loaned me some sheets, pillows, and towels until I could get some. The bed was comfortable so I felt the first day in my new life was fairly successful. I felt lonely but I felt time would take care of that … I hoped. The next few days were fun. I drove all around San Francisco, rode the cable car and took in the tourist sites and started checking out the jazz clubs. I knew there was a good jazz tradition here and it was easy to find some nice clubs. I had John Handy's phone number but I wanted to get settled in before I called him. There were a few nice places in the Broadway/Columbus area of North Beach along with some great Italian Restaurants. I passed on all the hype about Carol Doda, the hottest girl in the new topless movement. Not that I didn't like breasts but I preferred them two at a time and without a bunch of other people around. I discovered that Golden Gate Park was close enough to run to as part of a longer run without having to drive - it was about a half-mile away. One day I was over in the Kezar Stadium corner of the park and decided to walk on over to Haight-Ashbury and see what all the excitement about the hippies was about. It was quite a change for me coming from Oklahoma and I tended to be a bit conservative anyway. It was colorful, crowded with gawking tourists (I did manage not to gawk), and a plethora of mostly young people in all manner of dress - and undress - and the heavy, sweet scent of pot was in the air. It was like a year-round street carnival - there was always something going on. I stopped at a small coffee shop to rest a bit before I ran home. There was a girl, I'd guess around my age of twenty-five, playing a guitar and singing. She had a jar out for contributions. She had the purest voice of any girl I'd ever heard. She was doing a Joan Baez medley and doing it well. She looked to be about average height with an angelic face and from what I could see there was no bra under her shapeless granny dress. I listened to a couple of numbers but felt my legs starting to tighten up so I dropped my change in her jar and with a wink I took off. Several weeks later I was in the area again, at night, mostly to see what was going on in the music. It really ran the gamut. There were some groups that I saw later after they had made it. Other groups or individuals bordered on the amateurishly pathetic. I wound up back at the coffee house and the girl was there again. I sat closer this time and flirted with her on and off. When she finished she walked over to me. "You're really cute. Would you like to walk me home?" Walk me home? How coy was that? Well, hell, a score is a score. Her not wearing shoes should have warned me. I noticed her feet and ankles were dirty and her toenails were long and split. She put her arm around me and led me to a third floor walkup about three blocks away. There was a young girl of about six that was obviously babysitting her younger sister, who looked to be maybe two. They were both filthy and the toddler had dried snot smeared around her face. They were watching cartoons on an old black and white TV with a terrible picture. She gave them a hug and led me into the bedroom. With no preamble she closed the door and pulled her dress off - with nothing on beneath it. I sensed a fairly strong aroma wafting off her body and I saw she hadn't cut the hair in her armpits in some weeks. I'll grant she was a beautiful, full bodied girl, but … "I'm sorry, I can't do this." She shrugged and I turned and hit the stairs running. I never went back to that area again except for a couple of times to show friends from Oklahoma around. I knew then - if I hadn't already known it - that I was into clean girls. Still and all, it was fun to track in the media the happenings of the hippies. It was just not my thing. The final thought came to me that 'free love' could possibly be quite expensive. The last weekend before I started work I made out a deal with the landlady that if she provided the supplies I'd repaint my flat. It made a much bigger difference than I expected. The next Monday I went in to work for the first time. The first problem I ran into was that parking was terrible and I wound up on a lot in one of the old warehouses on a wharf on Embarcadero and having to walk all the way back. I'd noticed busses while I was driving in and I made a mental note to ask about them. The bank was at California and Sansome, which turned out to be a great, central location. It was a beautiful old building, majestic even. The computer offices were in an office building next door on the Sansome side of the bank. I got situated with all the paperwork and was introduced around. I quickly found out that my project wasn't going to be as much fun as I expected. There was this old man - past sixty-five - that was holding the bank hostage on his bond algorithm. The bank owned the rights but he was holding out for a big chunk of money for 'training and documentation.' It was very uncomfortable at first but I talked to my boss and then talked to John the geezer. I didn't mention that I'd got my boss to agree. "John, you're going to have to face it some time … the bank does have a right to this. I'll tell you what, I think I can stretch this out over a year and you can make more money than you are asking for. I just need to show some progress." He was kind of grumpy about it at first but he eventually came around. I rewrote all of his code except for the bond interest computing routines in FORTRAN and put in escape code to call those routines. I carefully documented everything including an extensive mathematical analysis of his process. I worked closely with the Bond Department and wrote several supporting applications. We got everything done in six months and the bank just gave him a check for the rest of his time and let him go. The bank was pretty happy with me since I'd resolved a testy situation. Balboa Park I quickly found out that there were some great watering holes around. I read in the paper one day that San Francisco had the highest rate of fatalities from cirrhosis of the liver of any city in the country. There were some lovely old bars that were just damn fun to drink in. I'd rented garage space from a guy across the street from my flat and took the bus to work. I caught it on Lake Street, about fifty yards from my apartment and it let me off in front of the bank. I could go out drinking and not have to drive home. It turned out that not paying parking more than paid for anything I had to drink. I found a great restaurant that we would go to after a couple of drinks some nights, call the Tadich Grill. It was the oldest restaurant in California, founded in 1849. They were on Clay Street in the basement of an old building. It was a place of many firsts for me: I'd never had liver and onions before and they were always terrific. It was also the first place I'd had artichoke, beef tongue and fresh oysters. My favorite though was the grilled Petrale Sole, which was actually not sole at all, but flounder. It was a wonderful place. Croatian immigrants had always run it and the waiters tended to stay there until they retired. They were kind of crazy but it was a fun place. I was sad the next year when Wells Fargo bought the entire block to build a computer center and the restaurant had to move over to California Street. The food was still great but a lot of the atmosphere had been lost. Another place I liked a lot was Paoli's Old Library on Montgomery and California. Besides being a great Italian restaurant it was the best place in town to pick up little banker chicks on Friday nights. There were tons of banks in the area with all the tellers, secretaries and all the other jobs that drew single girls to San Francisco from the hinterlands by droves. These girls weren't making much money so once a week on Friday was all they could afford to do. It was kind of fun because half the girls were just out for fun and the other half were desperately looking for a husband. The thing was they were pretty much all smart, clean and well dressed. I shied away as much as I could from the ones that could hear the wedding bells ringing - after June I was in no hurry. But fun was fun and I couldn't say I was ever lonely very long. I made friends with a couple of girls that I would take around to the jazz clubs or out to a nice dinner. The casual sex was great but after a time I became a little jaded, and became a bit more discriminatory. I really fell in love with San Francisco. It was mostly a friendly place though it did have some hard edges. Besides the City I drove around the area a lot. I was particularly happy when I discovered the wine country. A decent cab could be found for less than two bucks. I particularly liked to visit Buena Vista in Sonoma. It was a great place to take people from out of town - you could just wander around and they had a great picnic place. One of the other programmers was a German guy named Guenther. He lived and breathed what we called soccer and everyone else in the world called football. He subscribed to several German soccer magazines and could tell you about any team in any division in Germany. He's the one that got me started going to the Sunday soccer matches at Balboa Park. He played for a top-level club named Concordia. I'd go watch him play then go drink German beer with some of his teammates. I got so I liked just going and watching matches with any of the teams. He also started teaching me the game and I picked it up fairly fast. I would never have the ball skills that he did but I was fast and could run all day. He got me on with a team that played third division out at the beach chalet in Golden Gate Park almost to the ocean. It could be rough and dirty but I found I had a hell of a competitive instinct. I learned a lot about the flow of the game by watching at Balboa Park and playing gave me a better appreciation for watching. I mostly played halfback on either side. I didn't really aspire to play with a higher division team. I did find several small jazz groups that I could do a gig with once in a while. I was gradually getting to know the jazz scene, not just in San Francisco but also in some of the surrounding cities. I did meet up with John Handy and got to know him fairly well. He taught at a number of bay area schools like Berkeley, Stanford and San Francisco State. He talked me into tutoring some promising students at San Francisco State and forming small groups to give them an experience playing with others. He was a great person and probably had more impact on the San Francisco music scene than any other single individual. At the time he was doing some arrangements of using violins against his saxophone. As he put it, "I find the violin to be a very sensitive and expressive instrument capable of musical expressions that other instruments are not. I've discovered that there's a certain way to write for them to give them a saxophone sound." I didn't see any way I would ever move back to Oklahoma … I'd found a new home. * FALLING IN LOVE "Do you like jazz music?" "I don't know, Jimmy. What is it? Okay, she doesn't know anything about jazz … this is going to be fun. I drove away from Jaci's home feeling somewhat bemused. It really could be fun to teach her about jazz. Somewhere around where my heart was I could feel a warm fuzzy feeling … could it be love? I knew Jacinda liked me but how did she really feel? I felt impatient - I'd never felt this way about a woman before - but I knew that I had to take it slow. Not only with Jaci but also with her family. They seemed very conservative and if I rushed it I'd never have a chance to try to make things work out. I let it alone that week. If waiting a week was the right thing to do then I'd be golden. If she was expecting, even waiting, for me to call … well, a bit of curiosity never hurt a girl. I thought the best thing was to show up at the next Greek-American game at Balboa Park - which was the next Sunday at two. It turned out to be a sparkling, radiant day, warmer than normal for November and not a cloud in the sky. When I walked through the portal into the stands I saw the Nikopolidis family sitting together. I walked up to say hello but before I could say anything, Jaci beat me. "Jimmy, you're here!" Well, yeah. She grabbed my hand and pulled me down to sit beside her. She introduced me to her mom and dad again, "… remember this is the young man that kept me from being hurt." I stood and shook hands again with her dad but he was still wearing the stern face. Her mom smiled but didn't say anything. I sat back down. "Jimmy, why didn't you call me this week? I waited and waited." She looked somewhat petulant, but I just smiled and answered, "I was really busy but if you want, I'll call you this week." We chatted about the game and what she had been doing. She had mentioned to me she had a portable record player in her room so I told her, "I've an album I'd like to play for you. I want to show you some of why I love jazz. Can I come over a bit after the game today?" "I'd like that. Let me ask my dad." She spat a torrent of Greek at her dad and his response was apparently positive - although it didn't sound that way. Before she could respond to me her mom added something. I'm not sure if what she told me was a proper distillation of what her parents had said. "They said it's okay, but only if you can stay for dinner." I supposed the dinner wasn't really a requirement but an invitation. I smiled at her, "Sure, I look forward to it." After the game I took off with Jaci in my MG with the family trailing along later. They were talking to some of the players and it would take a while for Teddy, since he was walking slowly with his cane. They didn't live too far away from the stadium and we were there in a few minutes. We went in bringing the album from my car. I gave her my hand to help her out of the car and she held on to it tightly. She let go to open the door then grabbing my hand again she almost skipped up the stairs. As we went into her room she seemed a bit nervous. "Everyone will be here in a minute and I wanted to thank you for helping me last week. Teddy said I could have been really hurt." With that she threw her arms around my neck and started kissing me. I was standing there with the album in my hand and somehow had the presence of mind to toss it on the bed. I was startled at first but when she put the tip of her tongue between my lips I put my arms around her, lifted her up and held her tightly. I could feel her small, pert breasts pushing into my chest and slowly my hands - on their own volition - slowly lowered to her soft, round buttocks, holding her against me. I immediately got an erection and she had to feel it pressing hungrily against her. She finally let her arms loose and pulled her head back, staring intently at me. I reluctantly lowered her to the floor and let go of her. She stepped back, panting a little. She looked down at my obvious show of lust and turned away, flushing a bright red. She walked over to her dresser and opened her record player, looking quickly back at me. "Anyway I just wanted to say thanks. Hand me your record." I smiled to reassure her and handed her the album. I wanted her to hear some jazz music before I tried to explain anything about it to her. "This is an album from Django Reinhardt. This one dates from 1955. Just listen to it and then you can tell me what you think." She put the record on and sat on the bed. I was sitting on a chair by the door, which she had left open. When she heard the front door open she walked over to the top of the stairs - her room was right in front of the staircase - and hollered down, "We're up here listening to music." They waved hi and her sister, Elissa, skipped up the stairs. She sat down next to Jaci and listened for a minute, then looked at me and back to Jaci. She reached over to Jaci's nightstand and grabbed a couple of Kleenex. Walking over to me she held it at the edge of my mouth and wiped it. Looking back at Jaci, she said, "You'd better fix your lipstick before you come downstairs. She turned at the door and walked back to put the tissue in the trash and as she walked by, she said with a smirk, "Hey, Jimmy, nice music." Jaci looked mortified and ran to the bathroom to repair the damage we'd done. When she came back she smiled shyly, took my hand and led me downstairs. As we walked down I asked her how she had liked the music. "It's wonderful. It is so alive. Much of Greek music uses stringed instruments of one kind or another, so I can relate to this." She led me to the living room where the men were talking in Greek and arguing about something - which turned out to be soccer, of course. "I'm going back to the kitchen to help mom with dinner. Would you like a beer?" At my nod she took off. I sat down in an open chair and there ensued a discussion of soccer and politics in Greece in a conglomeration of Greek and English. I certainly knew no Greek and several of the men who stopped by had recently emigrated from Greece and knew only the barest English. I was impressed by the passion of the various discussion threads. I was to find out this was typical … the Greeks were a passionate people in many ways. I was able to participate a little in the talks on soccer but mostly I sat back and watched people. A couple times Jaci brought me a beer and stood behind my chair with her hand on my shoulder … it was a nice feeling, like I belonged to her. Dinner was typically Greek: moussaka, which was ground lamb with layers of eggplant; dolmades, stuffed grape leaves; and a Greek salad. The food was accompanied by Greek wine or beer and lively conversation. Jaci was sitting next to me and made sure I was included in the talk. She would translate frequently, particularly when someone was talking about me or asking me a question. She touched me all the time. A hand on my forearm, hitting me on the leg when I said something funny, and once in a while taking my hand and looking at me with that shy smile of hers. Several of the men were jazz aficionados so we talked some about that. They insisted that I get my trumpet from the car and while the women cleaned up after dinner I played a wide variety of stuff. Jaci kept drifting in and finally just stayed by my side. I finally was able to stop by insisting I needed a beer. When I left it was with an invitation to her twenty-first birthday party the next Sunday. It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving and there were no soccer matches scheduled. As we walked to the door her mom came up and said something to Jaci. She looked pleased by what her mom said and when we walked down the street to my car I asked her what her mom had told her. "She said for me to invite you for Thanksgiving dinner. It's not a Greek holiday but we've been celebrating it. We don't do turkey, though," she finished with a laugh. With a quick kiss on my cheek she was off and I drove home to my lonely apartment. I sat in bed with one of my favorite albums playing, an old one by Billie Holiday, and sipped on a glass of brandy. Of course, I was thinking about Jaci. I knew this was a girl I couldn't trifle with … not that I had that in mind. This looked as if it could get serious very quickly while at the same time I needed to move slowly with her. She reminded me of a skittish colt but her kiss was that of a woman. I knew that somehow I was in love with her and I was pretty sure she loved me too. There certainly was a strong chemistry tying us together. Jaci had given me a couple of books on Greek - it seemed obvious that it would behoove me to at least make a stab on some basic words. I called her a couple of times in the days before Thanksgiving asking her about the pronunciation of some key words. She seemed pleased, both that I had called her and about the language questions. Thanksgiving was fun and the next day I took her for a drive to the top of Mt. Tamalpais in Marin County. We stopped at Muir Woods on the way. She had never been there and found the huge old trees fascinating. The drive up to the summit of Mt. Tam was curvy but the MG/B was perfect for the road. The view from the top was incredible. We could see the bay area lying out before us and for the first time I realized how large it was. We were alone at the viewpoint and I was standing behind her, with my hands on her shoulder. I dropped them lower and held her tight and kissed her ear. She stood still for a minute, then turned to me, her lips eager. We kissed for a moment of eternity, then getting chilled we sat in my car. We started kissing again and my hand strayed up to her breast. She put her hand over mine and pulled me tight to her. I caressed her nipple for a moment, feeling it get hard. She was breathing heavy but I didn't want to go too fast. The signals I was getting from her was to go farther but I backed off and held her back with my hands. We stared at each other for a longish time then I put my arms around her, holding her tight. I whispered in her ear, "Jaci, I can't help it but I'm falling in love with you." I held her tight and when I felt her shoulders shaking I held her back and looked at her. She wiped her eyes and tried to smile, then leaned in and kissed me quickly but firmly. "We'd better go, Jimmy. I'm taking my mom shopping later today." She didn't say how she felt about me but I was sure she loved me too. The party was fun. It was at the restaurant and was crowded with tons of food. The same band was there and this time I was able to dance with Jaci all I wanted - though we both danced with others. It was clear that she was very popular and loved by all. She really was a very special girl. I didn't want to get her anything too personal so I got her a couple jazz albums. One by Dizzy Gillespie - I wanted her to hear some good trumpet work - and one by Duke Ellington for the big band sound with some old favorites on it. She seemed to appreciate it and in later discussions I felt she was really learning to like jazz. After the New Year we got into regular dating. I was over at her place a lot, especially on Sundays. I seemed to be accepted by her family although her sister teased us a lot. For Valentines Day I took her to dinner at Tadich Grill and then to a jazz club I played at occasionally. At the club I was asked to sit in for a couple of numbers and Jaci said it was okay. I had a lot of fun with it and the crowd was appreciative. Jaci was quite impressed, "You're really good, Jimmy. You should do this full time." "I think about it a lot but it's a chancy business. I'd like to do more than just play. I'd like to compose and maybe do some teaching … maybe be a mentor for some up-and-coming kids." From there I had to go by and pick up another album she wanted to borrow and she asked if she could come up. She had never seen my apartment. I showed her around and somehow we wound up in the dining room, which I used as a den. We were sitting on the sofa talking then somehow she was in my arms. It got hot quickly. I had her bra undone and was rubbing her breasts and for the first time she had her hand on my erection. I pulled her sweater up and kissed and sucked on her breasts. I unbuttoned her skirt and my hand was rubbing on her when she started shuddering - I knew she was having an orgasm. I knew she wouldn't stop if I continued and somehow I was able to cut it off. I held her close and she whispered, "I love you, Jimmy." She had never actually said that before but I knew she did. I took her on home and driving back I knew I wanted to spend my life with her. I started thinking seriously about asking her to marry me. She was the one for me. * LOVE … AND PAIN I was walking around downtown one Saturday afternoon in my neighborhood on Clement. I saw an engagement ring in the window of a small jewelry store and I immediately knew it was the right one. I went in to take a closer look at it and the more I saw it the more I liked it. I wasn't sure when I wanted to ask her but I went ahead and purchased the ring. It was a couple of weeks later, on a Sunday in early June that the time seemed right. Her family, except for her sister, were all going to Fresno for an Open Cup playoff match. The winner would go to Arizona for the regional championships. Because of the long drive they were going to stay overnight in Fresno. Jaci didn't want to go because we had a date planned. Elissa was going on an outing with a friend of hers and was going to stay overnight since school was out. Jaci called me and asked me over to listen to some music and then later we could go out for our date. I got over there around one in the afternoon. She made some lunch for me and we went up to her room to listen to music. No one was home so we left the door open. We were both sitting on her bed, listening to a Louis Prima album. An accidental touch, a spark, then we were in each other's arms. In no time I had her blouse and bra off and was kissing her and rubbing her breasts with my hands. Our hormones were working overtime and our pent up passion was just too much. It seemed so natural for us to express the ultimate love for one another. We were like a freight train on its way to a crash: we were just going too fast and there was no way to stop. It was passionate; it was beautiful. If there were any doubts at all of our love for one another, our first coupling removed them. We made love; we talked of our love. I showed her the ring and asked her to marry me. "Yes, Jimmy, yes, of course. But Jimmy, you have to ask my father."