The other day, a long-time friend of mine, an author, updated her Facebook status to read,
Googled “if the world ends right now, I hope I die in your ample bosom,” looking for plagiarism in a second-hand memory.
Her second-hand memory sparked the smallest of recollections in my brain, but I didn’t exactly know what she was talking about until she followed up with
Blaize Sun, this is one of my favorite lines from a story I didn’t witness. It runs through my head sometimes, and it just struck me that maybe it was from a book. I don’t think so!
At that point I remembered I was privy to that “ample bosom” quote. I wrote
No! It was NOT from a book. It was from a state park camp-out in Texas in 2000. It was not my ample bosom in question. I was sleeping on a picnic table (dumb idea!) and the owner of the ample bosom and the admirer of the ample bosom were sleeping nearby. Can’t remember if they were in a tent and just loud or if they were camped out sans tent on the base of the picnic table. I don’t know if that was the exact quote but definitely the general sentiment.
What’s really funny to me is that while I witnessed the event (at least in an auditory fashion), I only think about this when you–and I think Lou–mention it.
I will not name names in this public fashion since I never know who’s a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend and might see this. But I attest to the fact it that it really happened.
My friend the writer came back with
I remember that it was from one xxxxx, but I wondered if he’d read it or come up with it on the spot, bc [because] that is some quick, brilliant thinking!
It is such a funny story. I think of it all the time. I’m glad I wasn’t there to witness first-hand, bc [because] I think your retelling definitely enhances it!
At that point Lou sent me a personal message that started like this:
Wait…who said what?!? Why is my memory fuzzy on this?
And I answered,
Oh, I thought you remembered this story. It must just be [our mutual friend] who remembers.
Lou said,
I remember the quote but not the who, what, when, where, why.
I asked,
Remember that trip to New Mexico I went on with AmeriCorps in 2000? The one [your boss] (boo! hiss!) wouldn’t let you go on?
Oh!! Now I remember more. It makes sense because I wasn’t there.
I was in AmeriCorps in 2000, and I got to go on a trip to New Mexico to break trail in the Gila National Forest. Half of the folks on the trip were part of an AmeriCorps program that mostly did trail building and maintenance, but a few folks from the (related) program I was in went on the trip too. One of the other people from my program who was allowed to go on the trip was a guy named Dee.
The non-AmeriCorps folks on the trip were part of a group I referred to as the
mostly old people who worked on trails.
While I was the oldest person in my AmeriCorps program (seven years older than my boss), the people in the trail group were even older than I was. Some of them were downright elderly, as in, in their 70s. But these elderly people were active and fit and proved to be as hardworking as any of the 20-somethings on the trip. Also, the older people had money. They provided the vans we rode in and the gas to power them, as well as all of the food we ate.
There was a woman in that group I’ll call Sally (to protect her identity and because I no longer have the faintest idea of what her name actually was). Although Sally was older than my 29 years, she was the absolute baby of the mostly old people group. I think she was about 36 and pretty, with long dark hair. As the only people on the trip in our age group, Sally and I became buddies for the duration. I would soon find out that I was not the only one who had grown to enjoy Sally’s…er…company.
I don’t know if Sally and Dee had hooked up while we were camping in the Gila National Forest. I don’t know if they had been sitting together, making eyes at each other on the van ride back to Texas. What I do know is that on our last night away from home, we camped at a state park.
At that point, I was tired of setting up my tent at night and breaking it down in the morning, so I decided to sleep on top of a picnic table. All I can say is that it seemed like a good idea at the time…I spent the night tossing and turning on the hard surface, trying not to fall off. To make matters worse, Sally and Dee had parked their budding romance just a little too close to me.
I can’t remember now if they were in a nearby tent or on the ground at the edge of the picnic table. (Lou says,
Probably in a tent. I feel like I’ve had that problem before when inside a tent you forget that your tent doesn’t have real walls and everyone can hear you. It feels so enclosed and private!)
In any case, I heard every breathless word they spoke to each other, and at some point Dee dropped the cringe-worthy line my writer friend has remembered all these years:
if the world ends right now, I hope I die in your ample bosom
or at least words of boob appreciation along those lines. And well, yeah, I repeated his words way back then, and I seem to be repeating them again today.
what a great read, thank you for that! In the labyrinth I call my mind, I have had some semi related questions to ask folks recently. I bought the Prince of Tides by Pat Conroy (since he recently passed) at the Gulfport Mississippi Humane Society Thrift Shop for a nickel, 2 weeks ago. He has such great lines, such as: The task I had set for myself that summer was simple enough: I was to embark on a grand tour of self. I just love that! use it in your art if you want to. The second was, the story of his finest day, his finest hour. I may just ask the solo wild women that question, I thought you would like that too!
I’ve never read The Prince of Tides, Lelia, or seen the movie, for that matter. It sounds like majestic writing.
Nickel books…I am envious! The cheapest I’ve gotten a book recently was in California last summer, and those were a dime each. That thrift store spoiled me totally. I hardly want to buy a book for a dollar anymore. I don’t really need to buy any books anyway, because I already have so many in the van.
Thanks for reading and commenting. I do enjoy your comments. And I’m glad you enjoyed reading about that woman and her ample bosom.