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"Chronicles Of A Stone Age Hippy"
- Thread starter LiberalAvenger
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still 1968 in tangiers
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I came into the world on a cool October day at saint elizibeth’s hospital on youngstown’s north side. I, had successfully won the fight with life with billions of other tadpoles living in the gooey substance known as sperm. It was a hell of a swim but I won my first battle of life and it felt great to be alive and **** my brains out.
Youngstown , Ohio is located between cleveland, ohio and pittsburg, pa. It was one of the first great steel producing towns in america. It was highly unionized and the workers made good wages in the fifties. In those days doctors still made house calls, health care was affordable and nobody had to rely on greedy insurance companies to pay their bills.
I grew up my first four years living on the east side, near the trash dump and a lumber mill. I was a wanderer even as young as I was then. I spent most of my time either at the dump or the lumber mill. I would be gone all day most days. I lived on garden vegetables that I would pick from victory gardens.
When I was six we moved to the north side of town where they actually had painted houses. My father enrolled me into saint edwards elementary school for my first six elementary years. There I learned how to become a good catholic. How to knell for hours on a wodden church pew while music from the dark ages rang in my ears, and the smell of the choking incense would make me sick.
In those days you could go to hell for eating meat on fridays unless you were lucky enough to go to confession before you died. I learned that you could commit any sin in the world as long as you went to confession before you died. It’s okay to eat meat now days if you are catholic but in those days you went to hell for it.
When I got to the 7th grade I finally dropped out of catholic school and went to a public school. A great change had taken place in me by then. I had my first hard on and it changed my life forever as I shot my first wad.
Rock and roll had appeared out of nowhere. The uniform of the time for rockers was a levi jacket and pants, engineer boots, white tee shirts, and a greasy ducktail haircut. That made you cool. During my jr high days James Dean came onto the scene with “rebel without a cause”. Everybody wanted to be like James Dean or at least Sal Mineo.
When I reached ninth grade we moved to a brand new house next to the brand new chaney high school. I went to west junior high for my final year of Junior high. The west side was were all of the mafia kids went to shcool.
You could tell right away that they came from mafia families. They all drove impalas, bonnevilles, and the hottest cars of the time with floor shifts. Automatic transmissions were considered uncool at the time.
Some of my best friends were from mafia families. If you were respectful to them they would be respectful back. I preferred them to the goody two shoe types who came from the upper class snobs who were abundant then.
I spent most of my time hanging out at the “corner”. The corner had a bowling alley, a poolroom across the street from it. On the other side of the corner there was an Isaly dairy that was a very popular hang out for eating. Across the street from Isaly’s was the bouoevard pizza that sold ten cent square slices of the best pepperoni pizza in the world.
Youngstown , Ohio is located between cleveland, ohio and pittsburg, pa. It was one of the first great steel producing towns in america. It was highly unionized and the workers made good wages in the fifties. In those days doctors still made house calls, health care was affordable and nobody had to rely on greedy insurance companies to pay their bills.
I grew up my first four years living on the east side, near the trash dump and a lumber mill. I was a wanderer even as young as I was then. I spent most of my time either at the dump or the lumber mill. I would be gone all day most days. I lived on garden vegetables that I would pick from victory gardens.
When I was six we moved to the north side of town where they actually had painted houses. My father enrolled me into saint edwards elementary school for my first six elementary years. There I learned how to become a good catholic. How to knell for hours on a wodden church pew while music from the dark ages rang in my ears, and the smell of the choking incense would make me sick.
In those days you could go to hell for eating meat on fridays unless you were lucky enough to go to confession before you died. I learned that you could commit any sin in the world as long as you went to confession before you died. It’s okay to eat meat now days if you are catholic but in those days you went to hell for it.
When I got to the 7th grade I finally dropped out of catholic school and went to a public school. A great change had taken place in me by then. I had my first hard on and it changed my life forever as I shot my first wad.
Rock and roll had appeared out of nowhere. The uniform of the time for rockers was a levi jacket and pants, engineer boots, white tee shirts, and a greasy ducktail haircut. That made you cool. During my jr high days James Dean came onto the scene with “rebel without a cause”. Everybody wanted to be like James Dean or at least Sal Mineo.
When I reached ninth grade we moved to a brand new house next to the brand new chaney high school. I went to west junior high for my final year of Junior high. The west side was were all of the mafia kids went to shcool.
You could tell right away that they came from mafia families. They all drove impalas, bonnevilles, and the hottest cars of the time with floor shifts. Automatic transmissions were considered uncool at the time.
Some of my best friends were from mafia families. If you were respectful to them they would be respectful back. I preferred them to the goody two shoe types who came from the upper class snobs who were abundant then.
I spent most of my time hanging out at the “corner”. The corner had a bowling alley, a poolroom across the street from it. On the other side of the corner there was an Isaly dairy that was a very popular hang out for eating. Across the street from Isaly’s was the bouoevard pizza that sold ten cent square slices of the best pepperoni pizza in the world.
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Steve made his living by smuggling dope from the east to the west. India to coopenhagen. He had recently come from India with his family where he was deported after seven years.
We listened to Jimmi Hendrix a lot. The first time I heard Jimmi I thought the music was good but it seemed depressive to me. We sat on the roof a lot and somked many pipes of hash, while we talked about the world and nothing in particular. The warm sun felt good after sleeping all night in an unheated earthen structure. It was always cool like a cave.
Ron had begun to explain his international plan to me at this time. We would go and purchase 5 kilos of hash and gail would smuggle it back to the states in her girdle. Ron had started feeding her speed to make her lose weight for the trip.
We went and purchased the five kilos and then played a waiting game. Two weeks before we bought the hash Ron hid gail away and would not let her go out. The secret police would believe that she was gone. Then one night we snuck her out of tangiers and she successfully smuggled the dope back to her home in Orgeon. I was looking forward to my first money from her after she sold it. I paid for the hash and we were supposed to get a three way split.
This was never to happen. Gail said that she could not sell it and had given most of it away to her friends.
I saw gail in 1969 when she came to visit ron, who was my rigman on a shrimp trawler I was captain of at the time. She said she was sorry about the dope deal and I forgave her cause I was making all kinds of good money then. One year later gail was killed in a car accident while driving a volkeswagen.
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I fell instantly in love with mayflower when I first saw her. I did not stand a chance with her because she was doing a threesome with steve and his wife. She let me hang out with her.
One day she gave me a funny looking skull cap and asked me to come with her to the docks where a friend was coming in a boat. When we got there a bunch of moroccoans started crowding around us. It was strange at first. I had no idea what was developing. Soon we were surronded by a mob of people shouting Jews, Jews, Jews. It turned out I had been given a Jewish hat by Mayflower.
I never expected what happened next. Mayflower stodd their and and shouted right back at them until they dispersed with no harm done.
One day she gave me a funny looking skull cap and asked me to come with her to the docks where a friend was coming in a boat. When we got there a bunch of moroccoans started crowding around us. It was strange at first. I had no idea what was developing. Soon we were surronded by a mob of people shouting Jews, Jews, Jews. It turned out I had been given a Jewish hat by Mayflower.
I never expected what happened next. Mayflower stodd their and and shouted right back at them until they dispersed with no harm done.
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beginning and the end. I never dealt the rest of my life. I do give it away some times to the sick and needy.
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had been in tangiers for 6 months. It was the middle of 1968. Mostly I had been smoking opium laced hash for the past six months and it was time for a change. I needed a cool change. LITTLE RIVER BAND - COOL CHANGE LYRICS
I was tired of the mint tea, I was tired of the daily freak show in the square, I was tired of the tuna fish and marmalade sandiwiches, I was tired of the secret police following me around, I was tired of the blood on Rue De Calle, I was tired of the whole boy dancers culture that was tangiers.
When Ron and I left tangiers we went through quite a hassle at customs. They kept saying, “we know you have hash, we know where you bought it and who you bought it from. It will be easier if you give it up now because in Spain they will put you in prison for it.”
Only probem for them is that the dope was already smuggled back to the states by Gail. While this was going on I was taking my first acid trip. It did not affect me too much the first time. It made me a little speedy and I was actually enjoying the confrontation with the moroccan customs. Finally, they let us go to spain. It turned out to be a cool day. When we got to spain ron and I parted company. He gave me his guitar so I could sell it for money. He was going to madrid to catch a military hop back to the states. I was on my way to Almeria, spain to meet a friend who was getting out of the army that week.
Almeria, spain is on the coast of the sun, on the med. Sea side. Itis the hollywood of spain. They make a lot of movies there or at least used to.
I sold my guitar there and then took off for madrid. My friend from the army had changed his mind and returned to california. He was a surfer dude and needed to get back on board, I guess.
Madrid , Spain is huge, to say the least. It has a great subway system and you could go anywhere in the city for a few pesetas. Also they paid big bucks for a pint of blood, plus they gave you a free luch when you donated. I could live for two weeks on a pint of blood, then.
One of my favorite passtimes in madrid was the art museum, the prado. The more I went the more interesting it got. What a free treasure it was.
Some of the art from the dark ages was just as scary then as it was hundreds of years ago. There was some really sick stuff and it made me realize how ****ed up religion can get.
I was tired of the mint tea, I was tired of the daily freak show in the square, I was tired of the tuna fish and marmalade sandiwiches, I was tired of the secret police following me around, I was tired of the blood on Rue De Calle, I was tired of the whole boy dancers culture that was tangiers.
When Ron and I left tangiers we went through quite a hassle at customs. They kept saying, “we know you have hash, we know where you bought it and who you bought it from. It will be easier if you give it up now because in Spain they will put you in prison for it.”
Only probem for them is that the dope was already smuggled back to the states by Gail. While this was going on I was taking my first acid trip. It did not affect me too much the first time. It made me a little speedy and I was actually enjoying the confrontation with the moroccan customs. Finally, they let us go to spain. It turned out to be a cool day. When we got to spain ron and I parted company. He gave me his guitar so I could sell it for money. He was going to madrid to catch a military hop back to the states. I was on my way to Almeria, spain to meet a friend who was getting out of the army that week.
Almeria, spain is on the coast of the sun, on the med. Sea side. Itis the hollywood of spain. They make a lot of movies there or at least used to.
I sold my guitar there and then took off for madrid. My friend from the army had changed his mind and returned to california. He was a surfer dude and needed to get back on board, I guess.
Madrid , Spain is huge, to say the least. It has a great subway system and you could go anywhere in the city for a few pesetas. Also they paid big bucks for a pint of blood, plus they gave you a free luch when you donated. I could live for two weeks on a pint of blood, then.
One of my favorite passtimes in madrid was the art museum, the prado. The more I went the more interesting it got. What a free treasure it was.
Some of the art from the dark ages was just as scary then as it was hundreds of years ago. There was some really sick stuff and it made me realize how ****ed up religion can get.
- Joined
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“Woke up, got out of bed,
Dragged a comb across my head,
Went upstairs and had a smoke,
Somebody spoke and I went into a dream” Lennon and McCartney
A DAY IN MY LIFE
Went to the pawnshop yesterday in the inner city of Norfolk, VA. I had spent quite a bit of time in my career as a carpenter/builder working on projects downtown. It’s a whole different world in the inner city.
Junkies, pimps, whores, beggars, winos, homeless people, and the seedy side of life abound there. Once thing I learned about being downtown is that you always have to pay attention to your surrounding and the people there.
The bad guys can spot an easy target. The tourists in stupid looking baggy shorts with his camera hanging around their necks. That’s an easy target but they are usually safe if they only visit the usual tourist traps which are well patrolled. However, if they wander too far they might become easy prey.
As I pull up to the pawn shop I see the usual gang bangers in hooded sweat shirts slithering in and out of alley ways looking hard at anyone who notices them. The winos hanging out in front of the “Garage”, a skid row type bar, scope me out as I make my way to the pawn shop. They sense I am broke and do not ask me for anything.
This pawnshop holds a lot of memories for me. I did a lot of work helping build it as a carpenter about 20 years ago. It’s a very large pawn shop in size. It used to be an old horse stable about 100 years ago and it was converted into a pawn shop. It has a very unique antique “teller’s cage. The parts to the teller’s cage were found in a barn in north carolina. I put the teller’s cage together sometimes having to reproduce historical parts that were missing.
Bress Pawn Shop Now, the cartoon character at the top is larry bress, the owner, and a friend of mine. He looks exactly like the cartoon,
I had brought a 1912 German luger with holster in excellent condition to him to pawn. A guy named John took me into a pawn booth to negotiate a loan on it.
I had seen similar pistols of this type on the internet for sale some going for as much as $7000.
The holster which was in perfect shape was worth about 2K, itself.
“How much of a loan do you want?”, John asks. “$200", I reply
Then, John tells me that the economy is so bad that pawnbrokers in Palm Beach are only giving $10,000 loans for Rolls Royces. He tell me that there is no money in the economy, nowadays. He tells me that he can finds pistols like mine on the internet that are only brings $400 now.
“Ok”, I answer, how much can I get” He tell me, “$125". I say, “OK”. What a crock of ****. What a fuking racket. There is no way to lose money by owning a pawnshop. If I don’t get it out of hock he makes an instant fortune.
Larry let me know that he was doing me a huge favor by hocking it for $125. “Thank you Larry”, I say, thinking to myself, “greedy bastard”. But WTF that’s capitalism.
.
Dragged a comb across my head,
Went upstairs and had a smoke,
Somebody spoke and I went into a dream” Lennon and McCartney
A DAY IN MY LIFE
Went to the pawnshop yesterday in the inner city of Norfolk, VA. I had spent quite a bit of time in my career as a carpenter/builder working on projects downtown. It’s a whole different world in the inner city.
Junkies, pimps, whores, beggars, winos, homeless people, and the seedy side of life abound there. Once thing I learned about being downtown is that you always have to pay attention to your surrounding and the people there.
The bad guys can spot an easy target. The tourists in stupid looking baggy shorts with his camera hanging around their necks. That’s an easy target but they are usually safe if they only visit the usual tourist traps which are well patrolled. However, if they wander too far they might become easy prey.
As I pull up to the pawn shop I see the usual gang bangers in hooded sweat shirts slithering in and out of alley ways looking hard at anyone who notices them. The winos hanging out in front of the “Garage”, a skid row type bar, scope me out as I make my way to the pawn shop. They sense I am broke and do not ask me for anything.
This pawnshop holds a lot of memories for me. I did a lot of work helping build it as a carpenter about 20 years ago. It’s a very large pawn shop in size. It used to be an old horse stable about 100 years ago and it was converted into a pawn shop. It has a very unique antique “teller’s cage. The parts to the teller’s cage were found in a barn in north carolina. I put the teller’s cage together sometimes having to reproduce historical parts that were missing.
Bress Pawn Shop Now, the cartoon character at the top is larry bress, the owner, and a friend of mine. He looks exactly like the cartoon,
I had brought a 1912 German luger with holster in excellent condition to him to pawn. A guy named John took me into a pawn booth to negotiate a loan on it.
I had seen similar pistols of this type on the internet for sale some going for as much as $7000.
The holster which was in perfect shape was worth about 2K, itself.
“How much of a loan do you want?”, John asks. “$200", I reply
Then, John tells me that the economy is so bad that pawnbrokers in Palm Beach are only giving $10,000 loans for Rolls Royces. He tell me that there is no money in the economy, nowadays. He tells me that he can finds pistols like mine on the internet that are only brings $400 now.
“Ok”, I answer, how much can I get” He tell me, “$125". I say, “OK”. What a crock of ****. What a fuking racket. There is no way to lose money by owning a pawnshop. If I don’t get it out of hock he makes an instant fortune.
Larry let me know that he was doing me a huge favor by hocking it for $125. “Thank you Larry”, I say, thinking to myself, “greedy bastard”. But WTF that’s capitalism.
.