Davy's On The Road Again Ch. 09byoldhippie1949©
"Davy," Amy called from the galley table where she was working the wi-fi connection, "I found us an RV campground in Malibu. It's on the beach and it's not too far from Santa Monica."
"Malibu is cool, hon. It's east to get around from there. I think we should rent a car, too."
"That's a good idea. I'll check it out. Listen, if you see a market before we get into L.A., pull in because we need some fresh supplies."
We were on I-10 passing through a wind farm. The turbines climbed the hills and rolled along both sides of the road. It brought to mind the image of toy soldiers or marching stick figures. L.A. was an easy ride and I knew that the interstate ended in Malibu so, as it was a straight haul and everything was clean and green, this short trip would be a breeze. I saw a mall off the highway near Cabazon and I pulled in. There was a supermarket and, most happily for me, and In/Out Burger, one of my favorite joints, next to it.
"Amy, is it okay if I check my email first? I'll meet you in the market."
"Sure. Check YouTube, too. As for the rental car, there's a Budget across the street from the campground. What kind of car do you want?"
"It's a Lady's Choice."
"Ok but I have a lot of choices...Beemers, Bentleys, Corvettes...oh, here's a Lexus SUV Hybrid."
"I read somewhere that they suck...sort of a phony hybrid. Still, I like the idea of a smaller carbon footprint. It's up to you, luv."
I parked and Amy went into the market. I sat down at the computer. Shit, I had a lot of email. Mark sent me the particulars about the gig tomorrow night and it all looked good. I wrote back that I would be there and asked if and when he wanted to rehearse or go over the set list. Sally and Stevie sent a couple of emails and I wrote back about our progress and told them we'd call in the next few days. There were a bunch of emails from friends about the YouTube video. My daughter, Katie, wrote to update me on several things back home. She mentioned that her mother was undergoing cancer therapy and as much as I tried, to be honest, I did not feel anything for her. That made me feel lousy and I wondered if my bitterness had overtaken my humanity. It saddened me to know how cold I'd become toward her. There was email from my business manager asking me to call. There were several hysterical emails from my publisher, a couple of equally hysterical emails from the record labels and there were some junk including the ever-popular "grow your penis" ads. I sent off an email to Jimmy to inform him of my current whereabouts and upcoming plans. I then checked YouTube and was pleased to see that the video had gone viral and was now up to 160,000 views. There must have been close to 300 comments. I'd save those for later as I shut it down and took Santo for a walk. As we returned to the bus, I saw Amy wheeling a shopping cart toward us. She smiled when she saw the bag of In/Outs in my hand.
"Ah, In/Out! Two of my favorite directions! Good idea, babe, I'm hungry."
"Yup, Like a good clean bank robbery...in, out, nobody get's hurt."
We put the groceries away first and I was pleased to see a bottle of orangeade, my favorite. I broke up a double cheeseburger for Santo and we sat down to eat. Damn, I love these burgers. Now it was time to move on. I asked Amy if she's like to check out the YouTube stats and also to check out my latest email and she readily agreed. I started up Big Chocolate and, just for kicks, set up the GPS display and tooled out of the parking lot and back on the interstate.
Wow...did you see that it's featured on the home page?...160,327...sonovabitch...and these comments are a riot!...who's the babe?...where can I download it? Is it on iTunes yet?...Jeez, half this page is asking where to download it...next page...I saw you at Woodstock...I saw you at Max's Kansas City...I love it, Davy, I just love it."
"Yeah, me too. But you know, I never played Woodstock, I played Monterey...whatever...ancient history...Hey A, could you find some music?"
Amy plugged the iPod into the interface near the table and David Crosby's "Laughing" poured out. The speakers in the bus were amazing with incredible fidelity. Driving this thing was a real trip. It made the ride fly by and soon we were entering La La Land when the phone rang. It was Mark. I switched on the Bluetooth so he could hear both of us.
"Hey Mark, we're coming into town now."
"Hiya Davy and Amy. Where ya headed?"
"We have a new set of wheels and we're heading toward an RV park in Malibu on the Coast Highway."
"I know the place. Want us to meet you there later? We can go out to dinner."
Amy jumped in. "How about we cook up a meal in our trailer? I just bought some food and I want to check out it's kitchen."
"Ok with us. We'll bring the wine and some fuel, too. How do I know it's you?"
"Mark, look for the big chocolate bus. You can't miss us."
"Great. We'll see you later with some interesting news. Bye."
It wasn't long before we pulled into the campground and paid an exorbitant fee. Fortunately, the place was fairly empty and we got a spot away from other trailers overlooking the beach. After pressing the button to set the automatic leveling system, pressing more buttons to let out the sliders and then setting up the power, water and cable connections, we changed into bathing suits and took Santo out onto the beach.
"It is so good to be by the ocean again," I said dreamily. "I love the water. It mellows me."
The three of us splashed in the warm surf and then laid out in the sun. Something about the ocean rejuvenates my spirit. Finally, we went back to the trailer. I put together a couple of sandwiches while Amy went into the shower. She called to me to join her. The shower was easily big enough for both of us to play and we took turns washing and shampooing each other. I discovered another one of Amy's remarkable skills as she scratched my back to perfection.
"Nice. I like to make my man purr."
"Don't stop...a little to the left...now down...yes, yes yes, that's the spot...oooooooh."
We dried off and had a little lunch, giggling like two schoolkids. Amy suggested a little nap to see how the bed felt. The memory foam made the bed somewhere way beyond comfortable as we snuggled and gently kissed each other. I love the feeling when a woman falls asleep in my arms and Amy fit perfectly. I couldn't sleep as my head was filled with music. Lyrics were flying around and I just lay there dreaming them knowing I would not forget them. All was quiet with the exception of Santo's snoring and it felt good. After about an hour, I felt Amy stir. I tenderly kissed her neck. My hand cupped her breast and I gently caressed it. She leaned into me and kissed my chest. We lay nuzzling each other for a few minutes when she got up to go to the bathroom. I heard her tinkle when she yelled out to me.
"Davy, I left the toilet paper in the pantry. Can you get it for me, please?"
I got up and rummaged through several cabinets until I found the pantry. Bringing her the toilet paper, she wiped herself while staring at my soft cock, looking like a wren peeping it's head from a nest. Taking my hand, she led me back to bed.
"I liked that snuggling business. Let's go back to that." I got back onto the bed and she curled up into me again, this time with her back to me. I resumed kissing her neck and softly touching her breasts. My cock fell naturally into the cleft between her buttocks. She pushed back into me until my cock was snug. I particularly like the underside of a breast and my hands cupped them. Softly, I squeezed and ran a finger along the bottom of her. One hand traveled down to her belly and I fingered her navel for a little bit. We both purred when my palm cupped her and my finger traveled along the cleft of her vulva. I liked the way her mound puffed up into my palm and I pushed her back into me. She reached behind and moved my cock so it pointed downward between her cheeks. She squeezed the glutes and I stiffened. We began a slow rocking motion and my fingers began to soak from her dampness. My kisses and nibbles enhanced our slight rocking and I felt her nipple stiffen. I tweaked and lightly pinched it. I rolled it between my fingers as her hand covered mine and together we played with it. We were both very quiet and feeling very close. Her other hand covered my fingers rubbing her smooth vagina and together we fingered her. She squeezed my fingers over her clit and moved them in the way that she liked to pleasure herself. Within a few minutes, she was softly moaning. Squeezing both my hands and my cock brought her to a long silent orgasm, "le petit morte."
"Mmm, that was so nice. It was sweet. Can I make you cum now?"
"No, it's okay. Just lay here in my arms and let me feel your heart beat."
She rolled over and took my head in her hands. "Davy Harper, you are my heart beat. I love you. There is no place in the world I'd rather be than in her arms. Close your eyes and let me kiss them."
With her body wrapped in my arms and her small kisses on my eyelids, my mind drifted to a place in the clouds, just like I felt that afternoon in her secret cabin. She had a habit of taking me to another place, another level, another state of mind. Lillian was right, we dwelt in each other's soul. In that moment, I felt the totality of love and we shared a special place of peace. Later, after we'd dressed and gone out to the beach again with Santo, I took her in my arms, looked into her eyes and started to speak. She put her finger to my lips and whispered, "I know" and I knew she did.
Sunset was about a half hour away. The three of us were sitting on the sand quietly meditating at the view. Santo was sleeping with his head in her lap when a deep blue Cadillac XLR-V pulled up next to Big Chocolate. With the top down, it held a rakish profile. Mark and Debby hopped out and came over to hug us.
"Now that is some set of wheels,: said mark and I at the same time. We laughed and he said, "You owe me a Coke!" and we laughed again. I looked over his car and blew a soft whistle between my teeth.
"De rigueur for this town, man," he said. "I showed you mine now you show me yours."
"No, not yet. The sun is about to set. Davy, can you get some chairs. I'll get a bottle of champagne."
I found my Jazzfest chairs in a storage bay and set them up in front of the bus. Amy and Debby sat as Mark and I stood behind them. As the big orange ball sank into the horizon, we toasted to new horizons. I put the chairs away as Amy ushered them into our land yacht.
"This is something else, you guys." We guided them through the many amenities, features and comforts and they were rightfully quite astonished. Finally, we sat down on the soft leather couches in the salon. I served a plate of Voodoo Shrimp I'd whipped up and we began to discuss the gig.
"This is delicious. I must get this recipe," said Debby.
Amy noted that it was a fattening but healthy meal. Mark added that a steady diet would prevent her from getting into her leathers. Amy countered by saying that Debby had a beautiful body and he should be more respectful to her.
"It's okay, Amy. I know I look good and I know how much he loves my body...and I stopped listening to his bullshit years ago!" This brought some good-natured chuckling. Debby preened and pushed out her chest.
Mark began to tell us about the fundraiser. "We always have a sellout at this event and we always get excellent corporate sponsorship. The Civic Auditorium always donates the venue and the union always makes concessions so about 90% of the gate goes back into the food pantries. The audience is packed with celebrities and movers-and-shakers, too. This year, we have an amazing talent lineup. Each set is four songs with the opportunity for an encore and the show lasts about three hours. Afterwards, we host a party for the performers and attendees in the venue."
"So, what's the line-up?"
"Ok, there's the house band which is made up of rotating musicians. This year, the house band includes Ry Cooder, Jim Keltner, Chris Hillman, Van Dyke Parks, Danny Elfman, Sid Page, Steve Gadd, Steve Lukather, Dweezil Zappa...The emcees are Steve Martin, Ed Begley Jr. and Jeff Bridges. Linda Ronstadt is doing a set of Mexican canciones...Coolio, Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg are doing a set together... Jackson Browne, David Crosby, Graham Nash and Nick Lowe...Etta James...Robin Thicke...um, and there's talk of Dylan, too."
"Oh, Jesus, I've been hearing that for nearly forty years! 'Dylan's backstage', 'Dylan's here'...whatever!"
"No, really. The talk is that Cooder and Parks will back him up. But anyway, there's usually an all-star jam at the end."
"When do we go on?"
"My set is scheduled early, after Ronstadt. I'll bring you on after my third song and then you have the stage. Right now, I have Sid on second fiddle, Nick on bass and Gadd on drums. I'm still wheedling Van Dyke."
"Wow, I'd like to keep them up there when I play. Those cats can play anything."
"That's a fact! What songs will you do?"
"Well, I figure I'll start with "Sally Take a Ride" and follow that with "Stretching Out. I have a new song rolling around my head called "Bread Basket" I want to show you. Then I'll end with "In The Key Of Me."
"Great. I was thinking that maybe we could have an all-star chorus on that one."
"Well, maybe but basically, I'd like to do that with a spare backup...maybe just you, me, Lowe and, of course, Amy."
"Oh, no. You're not getting me on that stage! In front of the Woody Creek regulars but not with all these stars. I'll get stage fright."
"It'll be okay, Amy. I'll protect you. I really can't do that song without you, nor do I want to. Like Brian Wilson said, "Don't Worry, Baby. Everything will turn out alright."
"We'll see..." I could tell that she was considering it and could be sold on the idea."
"So let me hear that new one."
"Okay, but I need some more to it. Help me out and we'll share credit."
"Works for me."
I got out my Martin 00-18 and tuned it up. I began to strum an up-tempo beat.
"Every evening around six o'clock, we gather 'round the table,
Mom and Dad and Grampa, me and my sister, Mabel,
We fold our hands and thank the Lord,
For the meal we're about to digest,
And vow to do what's right and do all that we are able.
There are many folks out there who are like Old Mother Hubbard,
They haven't the means or wherewithal to stock the kitchen cupboard,
Their jobs are gone, they have no cash,
The food stamps ain't enough,
It's hard to feed a family with only bread and mustard.
It's up to us, the those-who-have
To fill the pantry shelves
With cans of food and healthy stuff,
It's how we help ourselves.
So pass the beans and collared greens,
Pass the chicken dumplings,
And please, please, please, before I blow a gasket,
Pass the juice, pass the butter,
And pass me the bread basket."
They erupted in laughter and applause. "Oh, man, that's great," Mark said, "that's a keeper. I love it. The audience is going to love it, too."
"It doesn't feel done to me. I think it needs something more but I don't know what."
"No, Davy. We play a break, go back to the first verse and then end on the chorus. It'll work fine. I hear it as sort of a colonial fiddle tune, almost like "Turkey In The Straw."
"Me, too," chirped Amy, "I hear it the same way. But I think I have a few little changes in the lyrics. I'll look at it later, if that's alright with you."
Mark ran out to his car and returned with his violin and a drum pad for Debby. We played it a few times. Debby added a second-line drumbeat to it that really made the song swing. Amy added handclaps and a double vocal and the song kept sounding better and better to me.
"Can we modulate the bridge into A?" asked Mark and we tried it that way, again improving the song.
"Oh, yeah. That's a keeper. Wait until the others hear it at the sound check!"
"Whew! I'm knocked out! Anyone hungry? I know I am."
"Sure, Davy, it smells great. What is it?"
"Davy and I have been cooking Red Beans and Rice with Andouille for hours. It's his recipe and I can't wait. Please sit over here."
Amy served up a big platter on the table as Mark uncorked a bottle of red. The meal was filling, satisfying and, as a tribute to the meal, eaten voraciously and quietly. Finally, as the last of it was consumed, we all sat back happily rubbing our bellies. Amy suggested that Mark and I take Santo for a walk while she and Debby cleared the table.
We walked along the beach under a clear and moonlit sky. Mark commented that the meal was delicious but very gassy and we laughed between our farts. Even Santo gave us space.
"I consider the recipe a tribute to Louis Armstrong. To me, red beans and rice is my form of SwissKriss!"
Obviously, the girls were in tune with us because Debby told us that the bathroom was available and we took advantage of her advice.
Once we were back in the salon, Mark lit up a spliff. "I just got a big bag of this from my best connection. Do you need some?"
"Sure, we're nearly out."
"Great. I'll get you a bag."
The weed was about the best we'd had in some time. Mark told us it was Vancouver Hydro and it sure had an amazing kick. In short time, we were giggling, goofy and getting a little randy. The subject turned to sex.
"So did you guys enjoy the spa?"
"Yes, we most certainly did. Meeting Callie and Tony and especially Lillian was really special. Unfortunately, my puss is a little tender now."
"Tell me about it," added Debby.
"I'm working on a song about Lillian," I said, "but I haven't yet caught her wonderful spirit."
"Keep trying, I have faith in you. We love Lillian," said Debby, "In many ways, she saved our marriage during a turbulent period we went through. She helped us overcome our inhibitions and shed some parental baggage."
"True," added Mark, "Very true. And I understand where you girls are coming from because my dick is so tender, I've been rubbing aloe on it."
"Yeah, I noticed that you rubbed it so hard, it spit!"
"Gee, I don't know about you guys. My dick is as happy as can be!"
They booed me and I told them they were just jealous. Debby suggested that, in a few days, we come over to their house to hit their hot tub and play.
"One thing I haven't done in a long time is some good double penetration. Do you think you two can help me?"
Amy laughed and said, "If they can't, I'll wear a strap-on!"
The night went like this for a little while until it was time for them to leave. We walked them out to their car and all kissed and hugged goodbye.
"I'll see you tomorrow at four, Davy." The Caddy gave off a macho roar as they sped off. We walked Santo again and then turned in for the night.
"I know you like to sleep late on the day of the gig so I'll let you sleep as long as you like, my love. I'll take care of Santo and I'll go across the street and pick up the car."
"You're the best, baby. I like how well we fit together. We make a super team."
"Me, too. I have amazed by this a few times. And you know what? We're just warming up. The best is yet to come. But please, Davy, do me a favor. Please don't make me get onstage tomorrow. Those artists are way out of my league and I'm afraid I will embarrass you or ruin your set."
"Tell you what. Why don't we see how it works during the sound check. If you can't do it, don't say anything to me. Just walk off the stage. I'll understand."
"Okay, I'll do that...that's fair."
"I have confidence in you, darling. Together, we own the world."
"Hmmm, I think there's a song there."
We kissed, nuzzled and fell into a deep sleep. True to her word, it was just past ten when I awoke. She was gone and I showered, dressed and had some coffee she left in the brewer. It was nearly noon before Amy returned in a black Bentley Continental GTC, it's top down. I shook my head in awe.