I can’t remember how I met her. I think it was possibly on the boardwalk, or in the arcades at Weirs Beach. I do remember my buddy Brad and I hitching part way around Lake Winnnepesaukee so I could be with her. It was the summer of ’76 on the lake, and my first summer love, and I’d just turned 15. I was raging hormones and sweet tenderness and she was Vicki, beautiful, smart, from Detroit and spending the summer at her family’s cabin in Meredith, New Hampshire, a 20 minute drive from where I lived.
That summer now punctuates many wonderful memories. What could be better than summer in New England’s Lakes Region learning about love, kissing, passionate caresses and long, lazy days on the lake?
The first time Brad and I hitched out to Vicki’s cabin — we hadn’t even kissed yet. The cabin was settled into the woods beside the lake, with a boat house, a pier, a detached garage with a room above, and parents that allowed their teenage daughter to entertain two male friends and her girlfriend in that room. It was all pretty innocent. The parent’s trust in their daughter was not undue.
We played some records, or was it only one? I remember just one. Fleetwood Mac’s second eponymous album, Fleetwood Mac, released just the year before. I’d never heard of the band, or the album, had never heard the music. But, for a while, I couldn’t feel Vicki’s presence beside me. Didn’t notice whether she was looking at me, or not. Wasn’t trying to arrange myself so that touch was inevitably natural. My enthrallment shifted from beguiling girl to the enchanting spell being cast by Stevie Nicks, Lyndsay Buckingham and the rest of Fleetwood Mac.
On the way home Brad and I stopped in at K-Mart where I snatched up the album. That night, I had music, sweet music, to accompany memories of the sweet moments of the day.
And wouldn’t you love to love her?
Love’s a state of mind