Bodego Bay Expose'

We were approaching Bodego Bay. I sat in the back seat of the tiny Kia SUV. My wife, Claudette, was driving with her friend Jane* riding shotgun. Jane was a friend of Claudette's from when she lived in California. It was my first trip to California since I was there in the 1960s. As a sailor in the U.S. Navy my knowledge of California centered around the beaches and the topless dancers that were introduced into bars by Carol Doda, San Francisco's famous topless dancer. Today I was to see more of the natural landscape. 

We had visited Jane and found that she was a "cat person". She had two cats which I should politely refer to as the "cats from hell". A brief explanation may be needed here. When we visited Jane some things became obvious. What once had probably been a nice fabric covered sofa had been reduced to shreds. Claudette asked Jane if the cats had been declawed. She said they had not, because it was against California law. Claudette then asked if the tomcat had been "fixed". Our host said "Yes". My wife wanted to know if the cat had been given a choice, which would he have chosen to give up, his claws or his manhood or would that be cathood?

Jane’s kitchen wasn’t safe from the cats either. Jane explained that they were always “rearranging”  things in the lower cabinets, so she decided that the lower cabinets would be a cat apartment complex.  Jane kept her upstairs bath locked.  The cats had determined how to turn the doorknob and get in.  Actually the doorknob wasn’t an actual knob, it was more like some kind of lever.  We had to retrieve the key from the window sill opposite the bathroom in order to access it.  Yes, they were truly cats from hell.  

Earlier we had visited the city by the bay made famous by Tony Bennet and Carol Doda. We  did the touristy things like getting Ghirardelli's chocolate and seeing the sea lions at Pier 39. I did not adapt well as Claudette's passenger when we drove around the hilly streets. There was something about looking out over the hood of a car and seeing nothing but sky that unnerved me. But on this particular day we were traveling up Sir Francis Drake Boulevard. Jane lived in Alameda and we were driving north then west toward Point Reyes and along Bodega Bay.

We stopped for lunch in one of those small California coastal towns. The restaurant was a repurposed Victorian house. We dined on the patio. I had a golden beet salad.  It was delicious but I think I chose the wrong wine. The pinot fought with balsamic salad dressing.   We enjoyed the lunch entertainment. A young woman sang to the bossa nova beat. I had not heard this music in many years, but remembered it well from a visit to Rio. She had a beautiful voice, was easy on the eyes and had a great acoustic guitarist as an accompanist. I could have stayed longer but the ladies wanted to get to the beach. 

The little SUV wound its way up the highway along the coast. Soon we were at a small beach town. It was an overcast day, none of the California sun the Beachboys sang about. But there were people laying on blankets under the sunless sky. My traveling companions were the first to notice a young woman lounging in a monokini. It looked like the bottom half of a bikini to me. We did not stay at the beach very long and were soon driving south toward San Francisco. 

The ride back to Jane's house was rather uneventful. From the back seat I overheard quite a conversation concerning the topless bather. Claudette said, " Why do you think she was showing them off? I wouldn't do that!"

" I wouldn't either. But I never had that much to show!" Jane said.

"She sure was proud of them. It looked to me like she was posing. Did you notice how she made such a big deal about how she brushed the sand off?" Claudette wanted to know.

"I think they were new! And she was just showing them off!" said Jane.

"You mean she paid for them?" Claudette wanted to know.

"Yes, I'm pretty sure." Jane answered.

"I remember Holliday Chidress' song, Plastics,  about them. He's the lead singer of the Goodies.  Could you see the scars?" asked Claudette.

I continued to listen to the conversation and was not asked to contribute.  I did get a visual reprimand when Claudette caught a glimpse of my grin in the rearview mirror. 

__________________________________________________*not her real name