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There was a woman who would also park her scooter in that little nook, who lived in the building at the the corner. She invited MaryJ and myself up and I was surprised to see a motorcycle in the living room, an Italian racing job of some kind, in a stage of repair.
It belonged to her boyfriend who was a speech writer for Nixon. Eee-gad. He was also a dare devil and sky-diver. Interestingly maybe twenty years later, I saw an update on him on TV. He then lived in Arizona and was a welder, and apparently some kind of desert rat.
I did visit MaryJ after I got to San Francisco. Can't remember how I got there probably a bus but I stayed at her parent's house with the swimming pool for a few days. I was coming straight from Haight Ashbury, which may have been showy and costumey but it was down to earth real. The LA area was funny. Everyone was a fake, the young people at least. A remember a guy at a party holding his hand in a candle like he was a guru straight out of New Delhi. They all had some kind of fake persona - middle class secluded suburban kids. MaryJ and I saw the 'Yellow Submarine'. She loved the colors in that movie.
She was a painter and loved colors. She didn't do any painting in DC, so I had been unfamiliar with her work, but she introduced me to impressionism and art in general. I must say I really didn't understand impressionism then, but came more to appreciate it in Europe with all the museums I visited. However now she did show me a painting she had done of my shoes like Van Gogh. Gave me an explanation I can't recall.
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