:)

Beautiful Music
THAT 70's SHOW
Jennifer Ryan
07/17/07

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Bare my seal

I pull the blankets up to my neck, then scrunch them in my fists, wide awake and bored. Eric's soft snores usually comfort me, but tonight they drive me up the wall. On nights that I work, I don't get home until he's already in bed and it sucks, because when I come home I want to do it. I know he feels bad; a couple times he actually fell back to sleep with his hands down my pants, and there is nothing less romantic for a guy than having his beloved conk out while jerking him off. Plus, in the morning before school, he wants it and I'm just getting my best sleep that time of morning.

I try to drown such depressing thoughts by closing my eyes and rocking with Ozzy's sweet words of love via my well worn eight track. "Follow me now and you will not regret, leaving the life you led before we met." I turn toward Eric and sing softly into his ear, "Your love for me has just got to be real ..."

He makes a weird sound and flops over, smacking me in the chin with his hand and knees me right in the nuts. I push his leg away and lick him on the forehead, ignoring his slurred demand that I not sing. He uses my chest for a pillow and I wrap my arms around him and rub his back. "Forman, do you remember that thing you promised to let me do one day, like maybe for my fortieth birthday?"

He tiredly whispers no, forcing me to clarify. "No you don't remember or no we can't do it? You know, the thing everyone would know we did because we'd smell like salad for a week."

He looks up at me wiith eyes half open and says, "Oh, yeah. We'll do it when you're forty, I promise."

"Well, that's the good news, man. We don't have to wait until I'm too old to enjoy it. We can do it tonight. Roy bought a case of safflower oil for the hotel's kitchen. It smells like nothing."

"Can't we talk about it later when I'm awake?"

I tell him I need him groggy, so he'll meet my twisted demands. He slowly pushes himself to a sitting position and looks down at me drunkenly with one side of his hair sticking straight up into the hair for comic effect. "What is your strange fascination with this?"

"Forman, man, the government hates it when people have that kind of sex. Just ask your old man, fag equals pinko." Eric smiles and suggests I be the one to ask his old man that question. "You know what I'm saying is true. It's like everyone around us is surfing through life, riding a crystal blue wave of expectation straight to Squaresville. Remember that not sleeping with me is tantamount to establishmentarianism, man."

"This from the guy who coined the phrase conveyor belt of conformity? I'm going back to sleep and I insist that you try to do the same," he fidgets, "because you're nearing the abyss."

"Don't use your hand gestures with me, Forman. I'm oblivious to their power." He rolls away from me, curled into a tight little ball on his side and tries to go back to sleep. I position myself behind him and tighten my arms around his body, forcing him to deal with me. "Don't get confident because you're not only going to do it, you're going to love it." He yawns wide and says maybe, which is really all my fragile heart needed to hear.

"I'll hold you to that. And don't bother wearing two pairs of underwear, Forman, alright, because we both know I'm good. I'm going to pester you until you cave and you will cave." I kiss the side of his head and slide a surprise on his finger before I jump out of the bed. "This is for you. I'm going to get something to eat."

He pushes himself up and stares at it, seemingly unable to process, so I take this chance to escape to the safety of the kitchen. I open the refrigerator and grab everything I'll need, keeping myself busy, trying to to think of the possibilities. I don't know why that was such a hard thing for me to do; it shouldn't have been. Maybe Eric could explain it with his gentle understanding and pop psychology BS, where everything in life has this underlying motive and old insecurity. I dig through the cupboard for chips to go with our sandwiches and look at the clock. It's 4:51 on a Tuesday morning. Finally I hear him on the stairs and I don't look up when the kitchen door swings, just hear myself nervously tell him that if he doesn't like it, he can toss it back in the night stand drawer from which it came.

"Why wouldn't I like it?" Unsure of what to say without sounding like a fucking moron, I shrug and allow him to continue. "I've never seen a mood ring that looks like a wedding band before, just the big ugly pearl looking ones."

"I got it at that record store over on Main Street."

"Grooves? Yeah, they have cool stuff there. I found another in the drawer when I was looking for my magic eight ball. Aren't you going to wear it?"

I reach for it and he takes my hand, pushes it on my finger and smiles. I do, too, then return to cutting away the crust from his bread. "Cool."

"You're a man of few words, Hyde. I respect that." I grin and thank him as he continues to torment me. "No really, I respect the fact that you're keeping it real." He bites his sandwich and asks me that if ten years from now, I'll work up the courage to tell him we just got married.

"It's a secret marriage, Forman, that's why I didn't tell you about it." He throws his arms around me and hickies my neck, knowing I'm nervous, and teasingly asks when we'll adopt.

"Yeah, that's the other thing I wanted to talk to you about." He's stunned and confused, so I back him against the wall like a wild animal. He escapes me, so I grab our snack and chase him up the stairs to our room. He's laying across the two twin beds, hiding under the blanket and trembling in exaggerated terror. I take a small box from under the bed, sloppily wrapped in shiney silver paper and decorated with at least fifteen little bows of varying color. I push it under the sheets with him and see his blanket covered outline tear wrecklessly through the gift. He pauses and I watch him shift the box from side to side, complaining that it's awfully dark under all those layers. I toss the blankets aside and proclaim, "Let there be light!"

He surprised and joyful as he removes our newborn from its carton. "A pet rock!" I quickly aim the polaroid and capture the moment our son meets the world. Forman cradles him in both hands and laughs happily as I struggle to get enough pictures for all the relatives. That first picture is my very favorite and I'm positive it will be for the rest of my life. About thirty years later, at some lame assed APA convention that I suffered through to hear Eric lecture on psychiatric problems specific to young teenagers, it made it's public debut. An auditorium of about 500 psychiatrists, psychologist and high school guidance counselors were treated to the sight of my pajama clad idiot beloved at the age of eighteen, clear eyed and happy with hair flying in every possible direction, holding up a rock and smiling wider and more beautifully that I've ever seen anyone smile. When the write up was published in some stupid journal that I secretly bought twenty copies of, the picture graced its cover.

"Look in the box, Eric. He sleeps in a little nest." He holds the rock to his chest with one hand and removes the nest with my help. We place him carefully in his little bed and I take a few shots of him solo. "Got any names in mind?"

"I don't know, how about Rocky?" I make a buzz sound, telling him he's lucky I don't have a gong. "Ok, how about ... Clapton?"

His father throws open the door and yells, "What about dumb ass! Now put up your stupid toys and go to bed." Eric angrily whines that his father has interrupted a beautiful and important family moment, so Red calmly states that he's about to interrupt Eric's ass with his foot.

After I finish laughing, I tell Red that no one speaks with such disrespect to the mother of my pet rock. He's horrified when I hold up Eric's hand and confirm his worst fears. "That's right, Red. We're married now."

Before he can stammer a curse, Kitty pushes past him and smooches us both. "Isn't that just so cute, Red? Isn't it just precious?" She grabs each of our faces, tugging and nuzzling us until we've no choice but to dive under the safety of covers. Red grabs her arm and as he takes her back to bed she calls out for us to have safe sex. Red stops suddenly, his smile more like a snarl, and promises that the only safe sex is the kind that doesn't take place in his house. I quickly snap a picture of the expression, hoping to include it in this years Christmas card, and it quickly converts to a frown. Red flips off the light and mumbles an expletive that we both find hilarious.

Since Eric has to be to school in a few hours, we stay up and make out, eager to explore the joys of first time faithful, married sex. We are stopped only by the strange thumping sound from down the hall that I instantly recognize to be Red and Kitty's headboard hitting the wall. Unable to tolerate that particular sound, we toss on our clothes and collect a disgusted Laurie from her bed, destination Waffle World, home of Wisconsin's largest pancake breakfast.

The Queen of Corona

"I think the most amazing part about being pregnant, apart from knowing that I'll have a tiny version of myself to love, is that my boobs are really getting big." My sister takes a breast in each hand and massages them in wonder. "Look at them! They're like, three sizes bigger than before."

I take her syrup soaked plate away from her, but she grabs off the little container and downs straight maple before I can confiscate it, too. Hyde reaches out and smacks Laurie's hand. "Christ, woman, would you quit feeling yourself up. We're in a public place."

"She's on a sugar high and can't be stopped." I dip a chunk of my dry waffle in whip cream and marvel at how much Hyde sounds like a daddy. Unfortunately, I've said it out loud and Laurie and Hyde make fun of me.

"So little brother, now that you're married do you ever plan on using your husband's first name?" Hyde rests his arm along the booth behind me, careful not to spark the interest of the other patrons and repeats Laurie's question to me. I swear to him that I didn't know he had a first name, but would be more than glad to use it if he'll tell me what it is. He mouths the words Steven Gregory Hyde and Laurie claps, exclaiming, "Hooray, love!" A few people look over to see Hyde and I with our hands flat on the table in front of us, looking confused and innocent.

I don't know if I can ever call Hyde by his first name, it just sounds so wrong. He calls me Eric all the time, as well as Forman, and I can't say I have a preference. I swirl a piece of waffle in strawberry sauce and think on my dilemna, unsure of what to do. Man, it's like everytime things start going good, something heavy like this comes along and stymies me.

"Forman, are you worrying yourself sick over what to call me?"

"Huh, I - no." I find myself stammering that I was just thinking about stuff ... like, general, everyday, nonstressful stuff that is completely unrelated to the conversation I just withdrew from.

Hyde leans back and laughs while smiling at me and I smile back, interrupted when Leo's giant head suddenly appears between us. "Morning, dudes. I wasn't going to come over until I saw your sister feeling herslef up." He pushes me over in the booth and takes the place next to me, glad for such an entertaining way to start his day. Our waitress recognizes Leo and offers him the usual as Laurie explains our situation.

Leo is surprised, but I wonder if he's also a little hurt that we didn't let him perform some kind of ceremony. A decorative certificate, displayed promenenty on his living room wall for the world to see, declares Leo the head of the Church of the Flowering Moon. He purchased it from the back of a magazine many years ago, as did the rest of his peers at the time, but takes far more pride in it than anyone really should. "No way, you dudes took the vows?"

I explain that we sort of did, in a roundabout way. "Hyde, or, Steven Gregory, if you will, tossed me a ring and left the room."

"Woah, that's romantic." I hold up my hand and Leo studies the ring carefully. "It's black, man. That means you're tense." Hyde explains that the ring's not broken, just bound to be black permanently, as I'm forever in the middle of a nervous spasm. I smack his arm then grab his hand to see his ring is still every color, all over the place and unreadable.

Hyde points out that my ring has a little dark blue in it. "That means he's hot for me." He says it with the usual cocky confidence he displays in public, the confidence I wish he really had in himself. I slide my hand under the table and place it on his knee. That's right, world, I'm naughty. Out of the corner of my eye, I'm shocked to see Laurie's rear end. She's turned around, leaning over the booth to flirt with a table of guys her age. She's talking hot shit to them, just dirty enough to hold their interest, and they ask if she wants to hang out. She stands to join them and one of the guys calls for her to stop. They all laugh when they see that she's no longer a hot girl, she's a pregnant chick. My sister isn't used to not being hot and she doesn't know how to handle it. The guys throw down a tip for the waitress and leave, laughing loud and clapping each other on the back. "We almost picked up a preggo, man!"

She sits down and for once, the sad look on her little face breaks my heart. Those selfish dicks didn't just burn my whore-ey sister, they burned her unfortunate and fatherless baby. The waitress tops off Hyde's and Leo's coffee and brings me and Laurie another round of chocolate milk. She puts her hand on my sister's shoulder and says, "Havin' my babies was the best thing I ever done for myself, girl. Don't let those boys make you feel bad."

Laurie thanks her and smiles, cheering that she can't possibley feel bad for long with such huge boobs.

"ALL RIGHT!" We turn at the excited exclamation to see Kelso and Fez enter with my math teacher and our old friend, Leon Miller. It looks like the three, every bit as unkempt as Leo, Hyde and I, spent the entire night partying. Not that Leon Miller doesn't always look unkempt, it's just that it's part of his image. He stands about 5 feet nine inches; six feet if you count his hair, which sticks straight up. He's got huge horn rimmed eye glasses and I've never seen him wear anything but brown cordorouys and a misbuttoned plaid shirt. His trademark is definately the fact that one tube sock is always showing, but it's not always the same one. His pants leg just always seems to ride up on one side. I find out why when he reaches down to scratch frantically at what appeanrs to be an eczema rash on his leg.

"Who's the dork?" Laurie asks. Hyde says it's just Kelso and we high five. We scrunch ourselves together in the booth so they can join us and Kelso introduces everyone to the coolest guy in the history of the world, Leon Miller, almost Ph.D.

My sister is wide eyed in disbelief as she asks if they man sitting next to her is really wearing penny loafers. He rewards her with a lopsided grin and takes her hand, pulling it close to kiss. "Leon Miller, my lady." He raises one eyebrow and asks, "I'm told you put out?"

"Oh, yeah, she does." Kelso answers for her as he gobbles our left overs. "I've done it with her like a thousand million times." Laurie asks if the D in Ph.D stands for doofus and Kelso quickly defends his friend. "He is a scientist and a genius, which you obviously cannot understand. That kind of pursuit does not leave a man with a lot of time to shoe shop."

"Or bathe, I see," she says with the predatory grin that crosses her face whenever she sniffs out a geek to torment. Not that I've ever received that look, I just - oh, who the hell am I kidding. "Wait a minute, aren't you the little boy who got his pee pee stuck in a glass bottle at Kelso's birthday party?"

He seems proud of the incident that has elevated him to living legend status among our group and quickly confirms that he is none other than HE. The great Leon Floyd Miller, not only a molester of long neck bottles, willing to do almost anything on a dare, but a science geek who approaches mathematics as a religious experience and teaches algebra as if speaking in tongues. His gravity-defying hair lends to the surreal movie star quality of the guy, as well as his ownership of Richard Dreyfusses' weird little voice. Maybe in a big city Leon wouldn't stand out or be noticed a bit, but in Point Place, Wisconsin he is one strangely exotic and interesting guy and I think he's really cool. Hyde sums it best when he puts his arm around me in a territorial manner and tells Leon he's one weird mutherfucker.

It feels like everyone in the dinner is looking at us, suddenly, probably because we live in a small town and people heard Hyde use a cuss word. A couple of nervous laughs later, an elderly man passes our table and asks if I'm Red Forman's boy. When I confirm his suspicion, he's astonished. "Well, I'll be." He hobbles away, leaning heavy on his cane and asks that I tell him Mr. Halberry says hello. Wow. I smile, a little surprised that I can hold hands with a guy and not get my ass kicked, but this is only Waffle World, not the real one. I bet by the time we walk to the car there will be at least ten people throwing stuff at us and carrying torches.

Hyde's arm is tight around me and I cover his hand with my own. "You're hugging me and nobody looks mad."

"Then maybe I should kiss you," he smiles, and I agree that maybe he should. He does and I hear a couple of women gasp or giggle, and of course Kelso and my sister holler and hoot like a couple of jerks. I realize this place is half empty, it's only six in the morning, but this is still pretty cool. I know some people at the hotel have seen us together and a lot of the guys at school know, thanks to Donna, but now we're in a restaurant of families and elderly people and they look on us as a slight oddity, but a non threat. I could get used to this.

Steven Gregory and I look at each other for a long time, ignoring everything around us, even Leon flirting with my sister and Fez demanding that she turn her ears to his pathetic pleas. I'd laugh if I cared, I really would, but I think I'm busy being in love. The spell is broken when Fez crawls over Kelso to pump some change into the music box across the room in an attempt to impress my sister with his freaky foreign ass shaking. She refuses his advances with disgust, so he holds out a hand to his beloved play mate, Kelso, who's thrilled to dance with anyone anywhere, because he swears he looks hot doing it.

"In honor of my exwife, the queen of Corona, I shall now dance with another man to make you jealous and humiliate you publicly. You will regret playing hard to get with me, woman." He twirls Kelso and they dance before us in joyful abandon, not embarrassing Laurie at all, but making real idiots of themselves. Leon and Laurie get up and dance, too, hardly giving the pair a run for their money, but having fun. When it's time for the chorus, Kelso gets right up in my face with a spoon he's using as a microphone and sings, "me and Julio down by the school yard."

Leo drains my sister's chocolate milk and tells Hyde, "you sure know some weird people, man."

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To be continued

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For those illegally downloading the soundtrack

:) N.I.B by Black Sabbath 1970
:) Me and Julio down by the School Yard by Simon and Garfunkle