Pamela Des Barres - Take Another Little Piece of My Heart

Poor Nick had a chilling experience at the local high school we attempted to enroll him in after ASAP. During nutrition on his second day, a pack of kids surrounded him and asked if he was a boy or a girl. His hair streamed down his back and he wore, as usual, very colorful and highly inventive clothing. After ignoring the taunts, he finally announced, Im both, just to confuse and piss them off. At that point they started to chase him through the school, out of the school grounds and down the street, where he ran into a handy-dandy police station for protection. Two hundred kids chased Nick down the street. Wow. Luckily or, as fate would have it Ariana was here on a visit, and went down to the school to pick him up. The teacher was shaken and chagrined as he explained the situation, Nothing like this has ever happened here, Im at a loss to explain it, Im sorry. So sorry. Aunt Ariana brought Nick home and listened to his story of terror and said, Nick, do you see how much power you have? and he didnt flip out. Later, when I asked how the experience had made him feel, he stated, Mom, I had an O.B.E. An O.B.E? An out-of-body experience. He told me he watched his body running faster than it ever had from a safe distance, way up above. So thats how he got through it.

Eventually, he was happily placed at Linden Center, a progressive school in Beverly Hills, the very same site where Michael went to his first AA meeting. Hes been there for a year and a half and hes doing well. Hes finally reaching the age and stage when he can enjoy his individuality. Hes developing a social network of his own. Just last week I dropped him off on Melrose with his girlfriend, Carina, and watched him walk into the crowd of trippy-hippy, trendoid types, laughing and amused with his life, and I felt so damn choked up and happy. Hes a teenager, he walks around on Melrose, he goes to concerts, he speaks Japanese, he still has his spiritual altar, he comes home from school smiling (most of the time).

There isnt anything Nick and I cant talk about and crack up over. Just a few days ago we laughed so hard about a goofy expression on the face of a ceramic poodle that we collapsed in a heap of spasms in front of several concerned swap-meet sellers. He calls me into his room to enjoy the cock-eyed commercials running through his Japanese videos, and we roll on the floor, hysterical with glee. When he was asked to bring a sample of his favorite music to share at school, he listened to all the rap bands and Marky Mark stuff before slapping Captain Beefheart in the cassette machine. Fast and bulbous, the mascara snake, fast and bulbous. Jimmy bought me the complete set of Jack Kerouacs recordings, and Nick has been on a nonstop listening binge, astonished and laughing, then writing zany stacks of his own poetry. My fave is entitled The Red SlipSlide of Old Bones. The Linden Center just brought in a teacher to work on a screenplay with the kids. He asked them to suggest their favorite character to be incorporated into the plot, and Nick wanted the baby from the early David Lynch film, Eraserhead. What can I say? Nick is a true artist, a step ahead, a step apart. Hes the kind of guy who would have inspired me to scrawl his name all over my notebook in junior high, but hes my son and a friend for life.

Nicks dad spends more time with him than ever, and he remains a sweet soulmate for me. When Michael reached ten years sobriety, he invited me to the AA meeting to give him a cake. From the podium, where he usually makes everyone laugh, he brought people to tears by making amends to me in front of the sober bunch. I put her through Hell and Im truly sorry. Apology accepted, Mikie.

He has been working his butt off on TV and in the movies. At one point he was appearing in Roseanne, MacGyver, and The New WKRP in Cincinnati all at once. He just stared down Tommy Lee Jones on the Big Screen, and has just landed another humding role in a MMP (major motion picture)! He sees Ariana on a regular basis, and has done so much work on himself that honesty is starting to dribble out of his sun-tanned pores. He pumps a lot of iron and has a pretty actress girlfriend, verging on serious fame, who hugs me whenever she sees me. Very sweet. She bought a jacket from Jimmy at one of our yard sales one of those fabulous patchwork sixties numbers. It looked really cute on her.

Still, Michael and I go to lunch and dinner, he buys me little gifts, and sometimes big ones. We talk on the phone three times a day, we seek advice from each other, we continue our meetings with Tony, Nicks therapist the guy Nick feared and now adores. Michael took Nick and me to Roseanne and Tom Arnolds wedding, and it was so sweet and perfect buckets of love being dumped on everyone. We go to swap meets, The Renaissance Faire, I go to his wrap parties, he comes to my dinner parties. We will always be there for each other, and its a relief and a reward.

I appreciate my friends more every day. Theres a lot of hand-holding and intense phone-consulting in my life. Its so great to know I can count on my precious pals to pull me out of a stuck and sputtering state of mind with just a few words. Patti lives in a big house on Long Island now and I miss her so much. We sat together chomping pasta in an old New York eatery recently, and we both burst into drizzling tears in the middle of our girl-chat. She and her almost-hubby just had their second child, Liam, a brother for year-old Emmelyn, the cutest kid since Nick was a toddler. Melanie and Donnie are always away. The last time I saw them was on TV. Sad but true. I miss them madly. My dear Catherine married a divine Englishman, Stephen Blacknell, and I was the maid/matron of honor once again. Dee Dee and Tony Kaye broke up, and she just moved to Santa Monica, yay! A girlfriend neighbor! Im working on my next book with my oldest friend, Iva. We went through grade school, junior high, high school, and the Sunset Strip school of learning together and now were writing partners! Ariana visits us many times a year and all of her clients troop through the house in varying degrees of spiritual evolvement. Some have to sit on the couch for awhile after a reading and all kinds of other worldly conversation takes place. Fascinating chit-chat. Ariana always reminds me about important stuff. The sure way not to heal and grow, she says sweetly, is not to forgive. Get out of that reactive swamp, she smiles, Youre reacting instead of living. Ariana is here right now, and Moon Zappa just left, feeling a whole lot better. She tells me her daddy, Frank, is doing okay. Hes been very ill and I pray for him daily.

Ive lost some friends. Miss Lucy died of AIDS last year, leaving behind a young son who is HIV positive and a teenager who lives in Reno. She was so full of her giant love for life, I cant imagine her not cavorting somewhere on the planet. Miss Sandra died of cancer a few months ago, and Im sure her four kids are full of sorrow. When she was pregnant with her first daughter, Raven, she painted a big star on her bare tummy and went out dancing so proud of her impending earth-motherhood. That leaves four GTOs. Sparkie is still a big exec at Disney. She and I just went to our twenty-fifth high-school reunion (so scary) where we twisted the night away with guys who wouldnt look at us in those blasted Cleveland halls. Everyone had read my book and looked at me like I was Pamela Des Barres from another planet and not Pam Miller from Reseda, California. I finally spoke to Cynderella after many, many years and found that she is now Cynderella Sincere, having been married to a fellow named Alphonse for four years. Shes taking writing courses in college, working on a novel, and tending a vegetable garden. Thank God shes alive. Mercy got married a few months ago to a guy named Leonard who looks just like Ike Turner. I had the wedding party at my house, and Mercy was all dolled up, gold and silver tinsel sprouting from her head in abundance, and when Jimmy told her how fetching she looked, she announced, All the Mexicans love me. The newlyweds fed each other cake, they accepted the congratulations and gifts, then slipped out into the night. God, I hope theyre happy.