"LONG-HAIRED-HIPPIE-BUM"!

Long-Haired-Hippie-Bum!

On one very beautiful fall day in 1964 "G" (my secret, illicit,
forbidden hippie-boyfriend) and I were driving around in his little blue MGB sports car. Of course I was only 14 and not even allowed in cars--especially not in a car with a boy!

"G" and I dated my first year of high school spending every weekend down in the "Village" in Toronto. It was the communal location for the hippie/drug culture with its coffee houses,
street musicians and live poetry recitals. We were part of a secretive society of long-haired, bra-less, wine-sipping, Allen Ginsberg-quoting, Bob Dylan-listening hippies, wanna-bees, druggies and dealers.

Although "G" was into the drug scene big time, (Marijuana, LSD etc)-- I steered clear! Being "Manic-Depressive", now known as "Bipolar", (undiagnosed and untreated at that time), I
never needed any chemical help to go nuts--I was already there! In fact everyone always wanted to know what I "was on"!!

When we weren't hanging out at the Village ever so coolly drinking our espressos, we could be found frequenting the weekend floating "pot parties"! Of course, I always had an air-tight alibi so as to never be suspected to be anywhere but at my "girlfriend's house"! And I never gave my parents any cause to think I was dating "G". But on this particular day, because it was so beautiful, sunny and hot and we were speeding down Eglinton Ave. in Leaside, (a "bedroom community" of Toronto) with the hard-top off the little two-seater sports car, and the rag-top down as well.

There I was in full view of the world and whomever! We were in the right lane coming up to a stop-light which just happened to be across the street from my "Auntie Myrtle's" apartment.
Auntie "M" was elderly, very old-fashioned and childless--all factors in her seriously assuming the self-appointed role of being a second mother to me! Between my "over-protective"
adoptive parents and my Auntie "M's" continual monitoring of my activities, I could never get away with very much.

One inviolable decree usually kept me out of any cars driven by teenagers! Another law carved in granite was supposed to keep me away from the company of "undesirables"! But I always fought this fuzzy rule since is was so subjectively applied, by my mother, to anyone she happened not to like! And that category covered anyone not a WASP--emphasis on the "W", as well as Catholics--don't ask..I never understood that one!

So it goes without saying that being in a car driven by a teenage boy who happened to be a "long-haired-hippie-bum", well that was simply off the charts of "good-little-girl-disobedience"! Yikes! So in order not to upset the adults who were attempting, and usually succeeding in, the complete manipulation my every living moment, I always ducked down as we passed my Auntie's apt. building in case she happened to be out on her balcony and could spot me.

Only this time I was caught in the act! As we stopped at the light, and from my slunk-down vantage point, I looked up to see Auntie "M" standing directly beside me, not two feet away,
waiting for the bus. She looked at me in horror, straight in my eyes and shrieked, "Is that you, Marylee??" Swiftly I replied with the all-time lamest answer, attempting a most convincing manner: "No, No it's not me, it's not me!" What an idiot!

"Holy cow!" I screamed to "G", "Step on it!" Certainly "G" never needed any excuse to speed and so he got me home, (around the corner, of course), in no time flat. Home free? Not quite! My parents had been in the backyard gardening all day and were not aware that I had even left and returned. My mind was scheming and racing to beat the clock. I had to move fast, tearing up the stairs and switching clothes from my red-and-white gingham short shorts and white lace-on-lace "pop top" to a nice little pink polka-dot,lace-trimmed sun-dress.

Not finished with my make-over I then pulled my hair up in the old reliable, and "good-girl-looking", pony-tail. "Innocently", I sauntered into the back yard with a book in my hand as if I had been in my room reading all day. All I could do was to await the dreaded call from Auntie "M". Five minutes later the phone is ringing off the hook. "Get that will you Marylee." I took my time getting to the phone, sort of hoping it would ring-off and the caller (whom I was certain would be Auntie Myrtle) would hang up.

The phone was still ringing as I gingerly lifted the yellow phone from it's cradle on the wall, "Hello…". You guessed it, "Oh hi, Auntie Myrtle, how're ya doin'?", waiting cautiously for her reply. In a voice that was white hot and trembling she retorted: "I'm not doing very well at all, Marylee. What were you doing in a car with that long-haired hippie-bum? Don't try to deny it, I saw you, I spoke to you and I know it was you! Put your mother on the phone right away!"

I went outside and told mother who was on the phone. She went in and started talking, "Hey Myrt." "Of course not! I Marylee would never disobey  me and do anything like that---just hold on a minute.." "Marylee! Your auntie Myrtle says she just saw you in a sports car with a "long-haired-hippie-bum driving"! "

In an Oscar-worthy performance, I forced a laugh and said of course she was mistaken. Then assuming I was being clever, I suggested: "Ask her what I was wearing and how was my hair done?" As you might guess, the rest of the conversation went something like: "No, no Myrt, she's wearing a sun-dress, no, her hair's up in a pony-tail…….

Although "G" and I lasted only a few more months "The Lie" continued for years! You know I feel just the teensiest bit guilty when I think that five years later Myrtle went to her grave undoubtedly knowing it was me and that I had continued to lie, straight faced to her, not just that once, but each and every time she drop hints, trying to catch me and force a confession. But some thirty-two years later, when my mother left this earthly plane, only a little more guilt defiled my conscience whenever I thought how she had always believed my little ruse and staunchly defended my questionable honesty!


Oh yes, I was that good---and I was always that bad!!