He will never grow up!

T’was the year of 1978,
The meeting that happened was just fate.
A clueless Persian man, new to his college
Had hoped to gain so much knowledge.
But he happened upon
Another man on the lawn
Who introduced him to a world oh so great.

That man, he wore a beard on his face
And his hair was as curly as fine lace.
When I looked in his eyes
I knew there were no lies
And, well his huge smile
Said all for a while,
So I sat down and entered his space.

Now astronaut is not what I was
And was not what I intended to be.
But curly haired one
Who was so very good at fun
Knew most of the Galaxy.
We took off together
To somewhere called Never
With our minds in a jamboree.

In the mean time the Earth
Had suffered a dearth
Of Bongo fun it seems.
All hugged us and cheered
When we soon reappeared,
And told to all our incredible dreams.

But time travel was not all
That we did in that fall,
School work was calling us too.
But Bongo was our leader
And not much of a reader
And so we followed him like flies on good pooh.

Where he took us next
Was somewhat complex
You see it was music that he called Dead.
But dead it was not,
I mean man it was hot
And Persian man soon became a Dead Head.

So music at college
Consisted of Bongo’s knowledge
Of one band only it seems.
The coursework was tough
As our teacher never could get enough,
And of each song’s version there were reams.

“Sugar Magnolia blossoms blooming
heads all empty and I don’t care”
Seemed to sum up our educational grooming.
Concert hall names, instead of capital cities,
And dates and play lists were academic activities,
And cassettes and not books were there for consuming.

But then there was Dark Star,
Our great musical candy bar
That was truly the most studied of all.
Scientific and mathematical explanations
Were often applied to the Dead’s greatest creations,
But always we learned most when in concert hall.

Soon school work unraveled
When with the music we travelled
To ladies’ colleges afar.
Bongo’s huge home stereo speakers
Were installed with amplifiers
In Persian man’s small little car.

Road trips these were called
And between the speakers installed
We often sat hitchhikers for fun.
By the time they were dropped off,
Truly dizzy from liftoff,
They were forever warmed by Bongo’s sun.

When college road trips were done
That was not the end of the fun,
And on nature trips we often would go.
Lounging naked on rivers,
In water to give shivers
Like Henry David Thoreau.

On some of these trips
We came to grips
With some of nature’s great secrets.
Our energy caused a flower to bloom
And we saw in clouds their structure, we assume,
And in rocks, movement just like droplets.

Well college soon ended
But the fun just extended,
And to New York nature’s cheerleaders did go.
We shared an apartment
The size of a train compartment
And trouble with our neighbors would soon follow.

As our college music abounded
The coop neighbors said it pounded,
And then called a Board meeting to try us.
While we sat waiting with feigned dread,
We recorded everything they said
And laughed to no end about the fuss.

We soon parted our ways
Thinking that’s the end of the craze,
Of music, nature and space.
Except for one river trip in Spain
Which was fun all over again,
For years the Atlantic separated our embrace.

But the story does not end
It has new twists and many a bend,
And the ’04 Vibes was our very next date.
On arriving I happened upon
The same man on the lawn
Who reintroduced me to a world oh so great.

So I say, to my oldest and dearest friend of all,
With whom I have always had a great ball,
To be back in your life is such a dream.
You have taught me so much about love,
And the Universe on Earth and above,
That my love for you is truly supreme.