Jules, Freddie, and the Monkey Man
A Memory Recalled:
The afternoon in the office was unusually quiet. Most of the staff was off today to stretch the coming Monday Labor Day holiday weekend, and I felt almost alone in the tombs. I logged in at 6:45 this morning and had had uninterrupted time to catch up on documentation and status reports.
Socially, financially, and personally, it was the best of times.
Remembering the times was mostly thinking of Jules and how she changed from the formal business attired, briefcase-carrying consultant into the warmer, softer, and far more feminine woman that she was when away from her professional realm. The general business attitude in Florida was much more relaxed and fashionable than Charlotte had been and she became a big Miami Vice TV fan so she could see how Florida women dressed in that fantasy world. Jules became a different person and I fell in love with her many times over again.
There were few general meetings she attended where she did not get at least one serious inquiry about her consulting services, and she quickly learned that Ph. D. competence and “eye candy” appeal can work together nicely. She was not a flirt; quite the contrary. “I can look good and talk about business at the same time. I don’t care which one sells the job,” she said.
And, oh, my, did she look good!
Jules is in the 'voluptuous' category; not overweight for her five feet seven inches; a little top-heavy, but very nicely distributed. By far the most noticeable thing about her is her abundance of curly, black hair. Not just a lot of hair, but a gargantuan mass of almost unruly hair that looks like a bad costume wig! The overall effect is that she is spectacular and people stare at her to see if she is real!
She is at home in any situation and refers to her Dr. Juliette Capulet professional persona as “that other woman.” She is a bit of an exhibitionist and her summer not-at-work attire is always very short shorts and the top half of a T-shirt, and little else. She is always distracting, even after all these years, and I have never met anyone who has anything to offer that Jules does not have many times over.
I also know she is smarter than I am, but I never question why she married me. I know she loves me and I love her. She is my world and life has been more than perfect.
By 3:45, it was obvious that I had lost my momentum for doing paperwork and was in no mood to be working. I logged out with,” Disturb me before Tuesday, 8 AM upon your own peril.”
Jules had a long massage in the afternoon and was in a laid-back, post-massage mood after the two-hour session. She had showered and was wearing shorts and the top part of a T-shirt, and was barefoot. She was setting the table for dinner.
During dinner, I told her about the nostalgia attack, and that led to a long session of remembering and discussing good things about those two years.
“It was the best time of my life,” she said.
“Mine, too. There was something really magic going on with all of us ...almost mystical...”
“Remember when Freddie’s friend, Jo Jo, was there that Saturday when we had the group with us? The really special feeling started then, and the pot had nothing to do with it. Well, not much. Remember JoJo asked us to hold hands when we were sitting on the floor in a circle and we did even if it did seem a little corny. We all did and no one said anything for a long time and it started getting a little weird. Then Freddie started saying, “be now...be now...be now..” and we all joined in and everything started feeling...connected… and before it was over, half of us were crying out of pure happiness. We were all in the longest 'now' of our lives.” She was silent for long minutes.
“I don’t know what happened then, but that 'now' was the only mystical moment of my life,” she whispered and fell silent for a full minute before continuing. “Remember how much we disliked being in Florida the day after Freddie left?” she asked rhetorically, and then breathed deeply to push the memory back into a safe place.
We sat in silence for a long while, remembering.
The reverie was broken when Jules said, “She set our minds on fire.”
And then, in an almost chilling mood change, said, “I have work work to do,” in a dismissive, Dr. Capulet voice, as she left for her upstairs office to be lost to the task for the evening; not to be disturbed.
After cleaning up after dinner, I watched an old movie while grooming Baxter, and thinking about Jo Jo and Freddie and Jules. When I do that, I get the past and present mixed up because the past seems to be now and the present seems to be an anachronism of some unknown origin. The present should not be here.
The Memory
That mystical time was so long ago and feels like a different lifetime of another person. I feel like the wrong person to possess the memory. Disconnected; not myself. How can I be my real self without Freddie?
In my life, that experience gets better as time passes because it was about the unique group of people Jules and I found and fit into so perfectly. Flashes of memory of sitting and talking overnight that Saturday when whatever it was that happened, happened.
Memories of the sweet aroma of cannabis in the air; of sitting on the floor leaning back-to-back with Jo Jo, one of the backup singers for the Lynyrd Skynyrd Band; memories of Jules lying on the floor with her head on Freddie’s lap; of Sue Ellen’s bare feet in the air, heels resting on my knees; of Brenda laughing and losing control and infecting us all with uncontrollable laughter. And the flood of empathy as Mona's laughter turned into tears of happiness, and we began crying with her. That is how it was. Maybe.
And later, of walking on the beach at two A.M. with Jules and Freddie while wearing only our naked birthday suits and it felt so natural. Freddie between us, arms around our waists, and ours around hers. She was singing the lyrics from Tweeter and the Monkey Man; the new Traveling Wilburys’ Bob Dylan song, and Jules and I joined with the chorus. Three naked people, walking arm-in-arm and singing and being perfectly at ease with it, repeating the same song over and over.
We were “high on life” and the moments were burning white hot as we wrote the memories into our very beings.
Always the most vivid and the last real memory was of Freddie's farewell party on Longboat Key and her goodbye kiss that still remains the longest and most memorable of my life, not even to be interrupted when Jules put her arms around us, kissed Freddie on her cheek, me on my neck, and held us both tightly for hours and days and forever.
Freddie's leaving was a turning point for us all because the magic disappeared with her. Within a month of her announcement, Bobby quit his job and he and Sue Ellen moved to Portland, Oregon, following Freddie. Jerri and Gene Warner moved up to Tampa, and Rachel left the phone company and moved back to Phoenix the following weekend. Woody and Brenda quit their jobs in Sarasota and moved to Portsmouth, Virginia. The week following Brenda's departure, I gave my work notice and three weeks later, Jules and I left Sarasota and moved ourselves to Columbia, South Carolina, where she continued her consulting job and I began the MBA program at USC.
Mona was the only one of the group who remained. The night before we left, Jules and I got a take-out and had dinner with her in her small house on Anna Maria Island. She was utterly heartbroken when we parted and that is the way I remember her.
Jules told her, “We both need a goodbye kiss, okay?”
Both were intimately offered. Mine was open, free, and salty with her tears. Jules said Mona filled hers with passion and tears.
Our last memory of it all was the sound of Mona’s sobbing as we left. We both still wonder if she made it through her grief.
That short, wonderful time changed my life. We have seen Brenda a few times since, but have not heard from any of the others since then. I think no one wants to spoil what was and to live with the unchanged memory of each other.
I am left with the feeling that something monumental in my life was left unfinished and is waiting to be rejoined.
Bittersweet, the memory.
It had been a critical mass of personalities and I started writing about it once, but life interfered and I put my notes aside. No one would have cared, but it would have been about Freddie. Maybe it will be some day. I know Freddie was different in some way that affected all of us. I don’t know how or what kind of difference, but there was a magic in her that awakened something in us.
Back in the “now”, whatever that means, I went to bed at midnight, still feeling out of place and time.
I had just finished shaving after breakfast when Jules, still semi-dressed, came downstairs. “Coffee. No talk, just coffee,” she said in a monotone.
We went out and sat on the deck surrounded by woods filled with birdsong.
“We should have gone with Freddie,” she said after drinking half her coffee.
“I have believed that since we left Florida,” I responded.
After a long pause, “Damn,” was all she said.
Author’s Note: Portions of this appear in a different context in the novel, Hunter’s Junes 680 pp, available on Amazon.com
About Me:
My Writing:
- The Foot
- Beans
- Timeline
- The Time Tree
- The Little Lake Without a Name I
- The Little Lake Without a Name II
- Dog Friends - Inza
- Philonous, Where Are You?
First off, this descriptor had me smiling: “gargantuan mass of almost unruly hair that looks like a bad costume wig.”
And what I enjoyed about this piece was that you really brought across the feeling of nostalgia we all have towards the strong personalities of our past. It made me think back to my best friend in high school. It was a tumultuous friendship, but it’s only in hindsight I realized I took her for granted. She had something about her that was very special. I think of the things I could have changed that might have meant she’d still be in my life...So for me, there are regrets and the memories seem to linger more with age.
I couldn’t tell if this was based on your own past or purely fictional until I read the comments. A lovely read, so thank you.
Thank you, @linnyplant! Yes, the nostalgia thing can be a driving force in the way we change behavior in later years. Most of us have the ability to fine-tune our hindsight, and I do a good bit of that.
Have you kept in touch with your good friend? Have you written about the relationship? It would make a good story to explore the situation and the corrections you would like to have made to see how things would change. Women can do a much better job with that kind of situation than could a man, I think.
I have one of those, also from long ago, and it is the kind of memory one has of being blindsided by a Ferrari at full speed, with about the same impact on my life. I can still feel the vibrations from far back down my timeline.
Also, comments can be deceiving when they are briefly made. Jules and her hair were real and she was something to behold! That does not mean the story is all true or all fiction or 90/10, or any other division, (and I'll never confirm or deny any more of the story). Quite often, it is impossible to go through a memory and tell what was real from the things that are mostly real. I am more often guilty of leaving people and events out of a story than I am of creating something new to add in.
Thank you for thinking the story was worthwhile.
Will
Sadly, no as far as keeping touch with this friend. As was typical, we grew apart and our temperaments were always so different, we took very different paths. I’m not sure if I’d want to write it out. I’m also not sure if women are any better at analysing and seeing past mistakes. And while I’d like to think I can adjust my hindsight as I get older, I feel I make more mistakes and have more regrets. I think there’s truth in that we get more set on our ways as we age. I suppose it’s understanding who you are and finding your true boundaries. It doesn’t mean there isn’t regrets when you have to let people go. I’m not quite sure what I’m writing about right now, but your words are interesting. Also had a peek at your profile, so please tell your SOIC she is gorgeous! ;)
Something that came slowly to me was realizing that I am who I am, and there is little to be gained by changing me to suit someone else. It took many decades to become who I am, and I'm satisfiedwith the functioning results. That removes the undercurrent of worry that can undermine a solid foundation for feeling stable.
The SOIC is insufferably pleased by your compliment. We both thank you!
howdy @willymac..well I don't have anything intelligent to say about this post except that it was great writing and a fascinating look at an inspiring time of your life, and interesting snapshot!
I hope you guys don't live in regret though.
Thank you for the compliment,@janton. Zero regrets about the 80's. It was in a time past, good friends were made, and good memories linger. It all feeds a fertile imagination.
and you're very good at utilizing that imagination sir!
Many thanks for the compliment!
Another stunning read, @willymac.
Your nostalgia posts remind me a lot of Stephen King's writing: a warm haze of friendship and innocence and rosey memories that somehow defined the individual and set the course of their lives.
You have definitely lived a very experience rich life. I hope I can say the same one day. I had an experience once something like what I am presuming might have gone on between you Jules and Freddie but for us it turned to jealousy and hurt and even though it was discarded not long after the seeds of destruction were planted nevertheless I've watched it turn into the crack that spread my marriage further and further apart until it finally crumbled. 10 years of marriage wiped away, and looking back I wonder if I could have seen the future if I would have done anything but honestly I think the experience did more to show us how different and mismatched we were but it took quite a few years more for both of us to realize it.
Thank you for the compliment, @corpsvalues, and I'm pleased that you enjoyed the story. The ones I really want to write are not easy to commit to actual writing, but I have bits and pieces I'm working to put together coherently.
I really feel for you and the loss of your marriage relationship. That is like enduring a death except you always feel at least some guilt in allowing the failure, even when there was nothing you could have done to avoid the breakup. People change with time and it is very easy in our multi-media world for a couple to be exposed to different influences and have different interpretations of the same events. Even more uncontrollable is the effect nostalgia has when we begin to engage in the "what if" possibilities.
I know how re-wishing the past can interrupt a relationship. I think all the marriages I have seen fail in my life have been in part based on trying to re-do the past instead of learning to live with it.
I also think that everyone is mismatched to some extent, and I know personalities change as we age. Two sounds can be so close in tone you cannot hear the difference. With time and with a steady change in one of the tones, they can become discordant and no one knows when it happened. Personalities are like that.
One thing in life of which I am certain: when magic is happening, immerse yourself in it and think of nothing else because you are in a special moment which will never occur again. Living with the consequences will be easier than lamenting the loss of that moment.
Will
I just love what you do on here Willy. You are an inspiration. Thank you.
Thanks, Ian!