Ieri, oggi, domani by any other name
So it's maybe still 1965 now, maybe early 66, and everybody's going through a lot of changes, they're growing their hair long and facial hair and wearing different kinds of clothes and the war is escalating. I was still in the vicinity of my parent's home and Mick stopped by again, this time driving a pink Cadillac. I wasn't home when he arrived, I saw the car parked across the street as I walked back to the house and thought somebody in the neighborhood must be buying cosmetics. And Mick was there on the couch waiting for my impending arrival. So we chatted and he was wearing a seer sucker suit but with thin pink stripes. He pulled out a ringbox, a deep very expensive looking blue velvet box, and set it on the table. I picked it up and opened it to see a beautiful emerald cut diamond ring ... I think it was a diamond, or a clear white transparent stone that flashed an occasional dazzling yellow as if powered by a miniature sun embedded in the stone sitting atop immensely shiny gold band and bezel. My sister walked in as I was examining the ring, and I said, "Oh, this is so sudden!" as a total joke because I knew it was for someone else. He'd just bought it and was going to give it to his girlfriend, Marianne. But truthfully I was quite amazed as that was a most valuable piece of jewelry.
And I started thinking about things, you know. Because in the few times I was out exploring with Mick, it always seemed like I was the one holding up the conversation about all the interesting things, and I was at that time a very very shy person. But I figured what the hell. I used to talk with him about some of the musicians I knew. Frank Zappa ... who didn't have too much of a following then ... and when I mentioned Stone Poneys Mick asked me to introduce him to Linda Rondstadt, like he wanted to go out with her. I said, "I'm no pander." But word got around, I guess, and they eventually got together.