I'm listening The Byrds greatest hits. I heard their song "8 miles high" on the radio the other day, and it reminded me of my friend B from Chicago, whom I lost touch with when she moved to NYC. "8 miles high" was her favourite song, because she loved being high and walking around in her hip huggers and skimpy shirts with all the guys staring at her.

She was really tall, couldn't gain weight to save her life and had a naturally flat tummy. Chick never exercised at all. She was hypoglecemic and had to constanly eat, and it was ill how she just never gained weight. She had the opposite problem of most women. She had to be careful she didnt' get too thin because she lost weight so easily. The woman ate like a horse because she had to, not because she wanted to.

She was always telling me she wished she didn't have to eat so much, and how her health was such a problem. She was a total trip! B had the problem most women would kill for, I would kill for, and to her it was the biggest pain in the butt!

The Byrds are such stoner music! Or tripping music, if your prefer. Them and Jimi Hendrix.

The Byrds are mood music for my novel. The parents of of my female character were anti-war protestors during the Vietnam War and met at an anti-war demonstration at Cal on Shattuck Avenue. Her dad was a member of SDS, that group that used to blow up things during the late 60's. SDS blew up the B of A at UC Santa Barbara.

My character still has the dog tags that her mother gave her, that belonged to a missing POW. People use to wear them during the Vietnam War as a form of protest.