Kisses I Remember

Laurel Ann Bogen

Kisses I Remember

In 1969 Ray Olson kissed me in the front seat of his Rambler. He tasted like cigarettes
and although I never smoked I still like that taste.

In 1958 I kissed my sister good-bye as she married her first husband. Four more were to follow.

In 1982 I went to a Tom Waits concert to avoid seeing KISS.

In 1976 Harley Lond kissed me outside the Vagabond theater on Wilshire Blvd. When
he ran his lips down my neck, my back arched and I spilled my purse all over
the sidewalk.

In May 1995 Little Guy Bogen kissed my nose with his orange cat tongue. Sandpaper
kiss.

In 1961 Robert Goulet kissed me on the forehead backstage at the Coconut Grove. I was 11.

Ray Levin, calling from Savannah, always says, "our kisses make us feel better." He
should know.

In 1999 Joni Mitchell reminded me that "in France they kiss on Main Street."

On December 7, 1971 my father leaned over me and kissed me while his tears
splashed my face. It was the first time I realized that he liked me. The empty bottle of chloral hydrate mocked; the red light on the ambulance went around and around, the straps on the gurney held me like a sarcophagus.

In 1963 I kissed a mirror to see what I looked like in case James Bond came into my
bedroom.

On July 14, 1992 I kissed my brother and wished him a Happy 40th Birthday. I
watched as he unwrapped my gift: a baseball signed by Willie Mays, his hero.

The Kiss of the Spider Woman is a book I read in 1986.

In 1979 I kissed an envelope handwritten by Gene Wilder, The World's Greatest
Lover.

In December 2004 I kissed Kathleen Lohr, Mark Beaver, Claudia Handler, Brad Dourif,
Doug Knott, Janet Sager, Erica Erdman, Nichole Morgan, Jerry Garcia, Rick
Dowlearn, Cindy Woods, Beth Ruscio, Becky Garcia, Linda Hoag, Michael Gall
and Venesha Pravin before we listened to Dylan Thomas read A Child's Christmas in Wales on the CD player. Then we all drank too much champagne and orange juice and eggnog. I needed to go to sleep shortly thereafter.

In 1965 I kissed my grandmother's powdery face in the nursing home where she
died six months later. She did not know me but I had been her favorite.

In 1998 I kissed Mark McKain on the cheek. I swore to myself I would never let
myself fall in love again. And I didn't.

Kiss lips,
Laurel Ann's
Intro

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