Greer McSpadden
caption: that’s Greer on the right
I met Greer McSpadden through an on-line dating service. In Minnesota it was called “Green Singles,” and although it contained the exact same folks for possible future romances, it was called “Spiritual Singles” in New Mexico. Greer came into my life after I finished writing my “Growing Up” memoirs, so pardon my digression to say quite a bit about Greer and me.
It was a Bluebird who got me on Green Singles. I started my second time as a single person waiting in post office lines, or going grocery shopping, hoping for chance encounters. After my dad died in 2014, we moved my mom back to Minnesota and eventually into assisted living. I often joined her for lunch at New Perspectives on Lake Owasso. One lunch, another son in his 60s was at the same table visiting his 90s something mother. He says to me, “Oh man, you gotta try a dating service – I’m on ‘Plenty of Fish’ – finding lots of women in the sea who like to have fun.”
So I tried it. One of my first dates said, “Look, let’s just be friends – but here’s some advice: “say ‘420 friendly,’ not ‘you occasionally enjoy having an illegal smile;’ and put a full body photo on your profile – I’ve had too many dates show up with only one arm or one leg.”
The next Bluebirds softball game I asked Maddy to take a photo of me while at bat. “What are you doing?” Karen (recently divorced from Corky) asked. After learning, she said, “Try Green Singles – that’s where I met my new guy – that site seems to have lots of high-spirited Bluebird types.”
And that’s how I met Santa Fe, New Mexico, Greer McSpadden. Maybe the most fun thing about being on a dating site (besides seeing photos and using your imagination) is writing about yourself. Getting Greer’s interest was almost as simple as calling myself “Mr. Politico” and describing myself as looking for someone who wanted to travel the country and volunteer on a campaign or two.
After messaging back and forth for a couple weeks, including my finding out she ran away from home in 1967 to be part of “The Summer of Love,” I proposed we meet in NYC. Her reply: “New York City for a sex frenzy? Wow, you are something else. Good try lover boy, but have to pass.”
But she was okay with long-distance phone calls. Finding a lot to like about each other, she said “Why don’t you come down here and we’ll go to work on the Deb Haaland for Congress campaign?” (Both Greer and Deb Haaland are Native American Tribal Members, and Deb would be the first such elected to Congress.)
Thus began a four–month long first date. What a great, great lady, what a great, great person! Best sense of humor, the best at repartee. After a week together, really getting to know our similar spirits, she started calling us “Clyde & Bonnie.” We were living on the edge of a full-blossomed love affair and tearing things up wherever we went. After two days in Albuquerque getting to know Deb Haaland on a first name basis, I said to Bonnie, aka Greer, “You know, Deb’s a shoo-in, let’s find a campaign where we can make a difference.”
“Well,” she said, “my best friend’s boyfriend in college was Drew Edmondson and he’s running for Governor in Oklahoma – plus my family is still back in Oklahoma – we can go visit them.”
“Geez,” I said, “Oklahoma’s a pretty red state, but let’s go!” First day volunteering for Edmondson, we get pointed to the campaign of Kendra Horn running for Congress in Oklahoma City – “helping her is helping Drew.” We show up at the Horn campaign headquarters mid-afternoon, and it appears there’s only one person in the office – Victoria – the campaign manager. We tell Victoria, “We’re here to volunteer every day for the next three weeks.” Kendra, so far sight unseen, but hearing us, comes racing out of a cubicle: “Every day for the next three weeks?!”
We did take one weekend off traveling to Fred’s Lounge in Mamou, Louisiana. I’d been there once before – it’s my favorite bar in the whole world. At 9 a.m. on a Saturday morning, the place is so packed you can’t get in the door without bumping into people dancing to Zydeco music. The bartender, Fred’s wife, “Tanta Sue” remembers me for having brought her the N.Y. Times travel article where I first read about her place. In fact, it’s up on the wall, next to the sign “No Dancing on the Juke Box.” Scrawled on the ladies’ restroom door: “If you’re not having fun at Fred’s, you’re doing it wrong!”
photo captions below: That’s our tent “Big Daddy” at the beautiful Indian Hills Campground 50 miles short of Mamou, LA. Next morning we’re dancing in Fred’s Lounge.
Up to this point, Oklahoma City had not elected a Democrat to Congress since 1974, and Kendra was a considerable underdog, but we went to work, door-knocking in the suburbs saying Kendra and Drew would be stronger voices for education. Thirteen days before the election, Kendra and her opponent – a gun manufacturing incumbent Republican – have a debate. “Clyde & Bonnie” are sitting in the fifth row. Double-handedly, we turn the debate into a raucous one, getting front page coverage and our picture in the paper.
caption: can you find Clyde & Bonnie?
All the sudden everybody in Oklahoma City knows about the race, what’s at stake, and volunteers start turning out in droves for Kendra. On our way out of town, heading to Texas, to get a Beto O’Rourke lawn sign for the CRV’s back window, Victoria calls, “Thank you guys so much! Couldn’t have done it without you!”
Indeed, Kendra won in an upset. Drew came close but lost. By then we had become good friends with Drew too – and two years later Greer and I went to his campaign reunion party. (Yes, I’m about to tell you how our love affair went on for another three years, trying to keep it short.)
As we continued our first date travels, visiting friends throughout the Southwest and onto California, I began writing stories about the adventures of Clyde & Bonnie to my friends back home, saying, “… still having fun, still under budget, and still in love.” In fact, Green Singles posted our story (the one I wrote) on its dating site as one of its “success stories.” You can still find it there, googling Green Singles and scrolling down to Success Stories, looking for “How Bonnie & Clyde Met”. You don’t have to pay to get there. Doing that means I can shorten up this story about me & Bonnie:
caption: Bonnie & Clyde’s Green Singles Success Story shot
1.) Maybe one of our worst nights/best stories was on the drive from Santa Barbara to San Francisco. We saw a sign for $8 campsites on the beach. We drove “Hiawatha,” our name for Greer’s CRV, on sand all the way to the end of the beach; pitched “Big Daddy,” our tent, in a wind storm; managed to prep a quick meal; and turned in. Darkness fell, and suddenly we started hearing loud engine noises all around us. Peeping out, we realized we’d pitched our tent in the middle of a dune buggy racetrack! And we were at the pinnacle with dozens of dune buggies making U-turns right around our tent! We couldn’t leave without getting run over.
2.) We spent New Year’s Eve in San Francisco watching Elizabeth Warren announce for President on the Rachel Maddow show – both deciding we’d likely end up volunteering for her shortly.
3.) We ended our four-month date spending two weeks with Mike Whalen (see his Tribute above) in Playa Zipolite, Mexico, my all-time favorite beach. It’s a south-facing beach at the very tip bottom of Mexico. You get sunrises (bobbing between mountain tops) in the east and sunsets (through caverns) in the west. You can see whales breaching from your hammock. It’s clothing optional. The lifeguards are also the pot dealers (and do the little policing needed). A clean room is only $20 a night. For more about that great beach either click <Here> or go to Archives and read “My Trip to See Mike in Mexico.”
caption: Playa Zipolite Beach
4.) Once state-side, Greer returned home, back to Santa Fe, and me to Saint Paul, both of us going to work on the Warren campaign. Meanwhile, we had an understanding that living so far away from each other meant we weren’t committed to being monogamous.
5.) While working the Warren campaign, we took time for trysts in Chicago, the Upper Peninsula, and one to Walden Pond.
6.) By the time of our last get-together, visiting Paul Ogren (see Steve Cooper Tribute) in Hawaii, I’d decided that my polyamorous period was over.
It’s been over a year now since I last saw Greer (aka Bonnie), and I’m still hoping a platonic friendship can evolve. Regardless, I want to thank you Greer, from the bottom of my heart, for all the wonderful times, for your huge heart for humanity, your absolutely scintillating wit, and the love I felt. Thank you.