A Cast of Players

Dedication: To my dear friend Carla who urged me to put some flowers in my hair and just...go.

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Here. I find myself in some far-out city. A far cry and miles from my home; a country apart. Snuggled in hillsides. Still frames. Filled with life upon a shore, a distant sea. Filled with hills and lights and streetcars, named Desire. With man-made bridges towering over heads spinning with wonder and awe. Bridges. Towering in giant delight. Buses. Filled and emptied, again and again. People. Hop on hop off. A whirlwind. Horns blowing. The sounds amplified and then; lost among the avenues.
 Lost among the throng of colorful crowds. A light from a distant era does shine, with psychedelic colors. With a haze of smoke that seeps into a day. This day. Oozing from some crazy Jack Kerouac passage. With trees in parks and sidewalks unknown. Still frames; filled with ideas and freedoms, and people from the Haight. I search to fulfill some wanton desire. To step lightly, happily into a glorified past. And then, as if a curtain drawn, the play begins in earnest. Time intersects. Today and tomorrow slip into yesterday. A sign. A flash; a cast of players step onto this stage called…life. Here, in this place, unfolds the dramas; the comedies, the tragedies, the moments. All things in the universe come spinning together. Right place, right time, right on. The cast assembles, the camera clicks, the moment fleeting. Captured. The smiles, the

laughter, the triumph of the day. The curtain closes. The stars emerge. The night fills again with wonder. Time advances. The journey continues. From past to present to futures unknown. And yet the moment remains. Frozen, in still frame. Frozen in some far-out city, on some far-out street. It is, it was, it will always be… Haight/Ashbury.