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.