Saturday, January 3, 2009

Pink Cadillac

They say Eve tempted Adam with an apple
But man I ain't going for that
I know it was her pink Cadillac

I have been having dreams of adventures lately. Long highways. Wind blowing in my short hair. Or better yet, me in some fitted, polka-dot, flirty dress from the 50's. Hair neatly held under a silk scarf that crosses purposefully around my neck, with my Max Factor Red Velvet lipstick and Lana Turner sunglasses. Do you know about Nancy? Now that might sound like a non-sequitor but really it isn't. I have, for a while now, believed that I have been here before. My last incarnation was Nancy, a bored California housewife in the 40's and 50's who had a penchant for smoking and drinking bourbon and soda with an umbrella in it. Now before you send me off to the loony bin, let me explain.

We all, everyone of us, has some alter ego. Nancy revealed herself to me after my first child was born. I was having a hard time with motherhood. I expected a lot from myself. In a word: perfection. That was back when I thought perfection was attainable because I listened to other people tell me it was, even though they were FAR from achieving it themselves. I don't like deceptive people in helping roles. So I tell the truth about how difficult my journey has been and most importantly how it still can be. This truthsaying allows you to either commiserate or feel better about yourself! Now what does this have to do with Nancy? Well, Nancy showed up when I was thinking about being perfect and how far from the mark I had fallen. On the surface Nancy was perfect. Her home was immaculate, her children (one boy and one girl) well-behaved, her husband successful and handsome, her wardrobe spectacular! Nancy had no worries. But for some reason every night after her perfectly prepared dinner was cleaned up and her children were doing their homework and her husband had retired to the den, she got out the bourbon, a lovely high ball glass and the umbrellas and walked out to the patio, sat down by the pool and drank and drank and drank. And then she would wash and put away her glass. Smooth her hair mindlessly with her hand and walk to her bedroom where she would dress for sleep in some lovely negligee and go to bed.
On July 29, 1961 Nancy drowned in her perfect swimming pool. No one found her till morning when there was no breakfast.

The 50's are more than a metaphor for me. And so is Nancy. She is real. And that is a decade in my personal evolution. And like two sides of one coin, part is lovely and the other tragic. Nancy represents the tragic party but she also represents the lovely party. What is still a part of me, a part I have hidden for so long, is the fabulous, glamorous part. Driving down Ventura Highway in a convertible. A pink Cadillac, maybe. See, I want it all. I will embrace the darkness of life if I get to wear fabulously red matte lipstick and drive a Cadillac. I am realizing that life is too short if we are loving every day and too long if we are not. I want a short life. I want to jump out of planes, surf in Costa Rica, swim with manatees (seriously I love manatees!), scuba dive in Eilat, Israel, climb a mountain in India, chat with a sherpa, ride a (preferably my own!) Harley Davidson Heritage Softail Classic down Ventura Highway (now known as Ventura Freeway - doesn't have the same ring!). And every girl's gotta start somewhere, so it's with the Pink Cadillac - seen above (really that is a Pink Cadillac Eldorado Beach Cruiser). Even if it's only to town to Eden Gourmet. I promise to make it an adventure.

We are blessed, may we recognize the blessing

in peace


DoulaMomma said...

here's to telling it like it is!
(I have a bike/Vespa fantasy & also a big hill between me & Eden Gourmet!...sigh)

Nanda Mama said...

See and you didn't believe me when I told you I wanted to grow up to be just like you :)!

LunaSoror said...

Love you, and Nancy.