I have always resented being born in 1970. Sure it is great because I have always been able to quickly relate how old I was in a given year 'cause it matches the year but besides that I have always felt I was robbed of my true "Hippie Off-Spring" because I wasn't born in 1969. Nineteen sixty-nine, it says Flower Power! I was after all, born in San Diego, California. That does afford me some street cred for the right coast, right town, almost right year but if I had only been born 2 months earlier. Some early clarification, I called my mom, Carol and my dad, Bob. Hippies don't go in for titles even the most mundane of them all. As a free spirit I was not expected to be bummed out by power trips like calling your parents by titles. We were all on the same planet together and being born first or of someone was not enough reason to oppress a new spirit man. That and having a kid call you Mom would really age you and hippies are ageless, man.
The story of my birth is a great one. You see my mom, Carol, had been looking forward to my birth. She had visited Disney several times in the weeks before to ride roller coasters in hopes of speeding my arrival.It was a ride at your own risk time in the world so despite being huge, they let Carol ride all she wanted. My grandmother sent a care package including aVirginia SALT cured ham. That ham was likely the reason Carol suffered from Toxemia when my arrival became eminent. In classic form Carol contacted Bob to let him know it was time and waited at home for him to take her to the hospital.
NOw Bob had been anticipating this call and for several days prior to the call he had parked in a No Parking zone. Earlier in the week his car was towed from the spot. Not to be deterred by the "pigs" he walked to the near by impound lot, jumped the fence and took back his car. On the day of my birth the car was once again towed and impounded and this time they were ready for Bob. When he jumped the fence the "pigs" were ready. Away he went to jail, while Carol contractions got closer.
Bob's one call was to Carol. He would not be available to come get her and probably not available for the birth for that matter. "O hell no!" Carol called a girl friend and instead of heading to the hospital, she instead went straight to the "Cop Shop" to let them know just how big of a problem they had created. Contractions coming fast and heavy Carol marched into the station and amongst her cries of pain threatened to "plop" me out on the spot if they did not release Bob, NOWWW!! Since it was Washington's birthday (a holiday later combined with Lincoln's birthday to become President's Day) the banks were closed and Carol could not get bail or impound money. After her baby roulet the fee were waved the car retrieved and the Brooks's were on the way to Sharp's Hospital were I would be born via Twilight, an apparently groovy drug that would allow the mother to sleep through the delivery. Over 8 pounds I was a healthy baby, a little toxic but good to go. Carol wanted to name me Crystal, Bob was not in favor of my being named after a rock but conseaded if my middle name could be Crystal, Magic would be the perfect name for me.
Ultimately I was named Crystal Dawn Brooks. Carol's triumph of naming me would reign down a horrible name on my sister and a lifetime alias. I will explain that all later. I however have been saddled with the name of a Porn Star my whole life, and the constant question "is that your real name?". It is a conversation starter..."Crystal Brooks? Is that your real name?" "Yes, i was almost Magic Crystal" "your parents must have been....." "Yes they were HUGE hippies" "What was that like?" and at that point i share a couple antic-dotes of my upbringing and inevitability someone will say "You should write a book!" and my response is always "I would but I just don't know how it ends."