Monday, August 10, 2009


I had one just like this back in what I call "The Good Old Days." I refer to them as the good old days as in the drugs and sex were a hell of a lot safer and hitchhiking was still a viable means of transportation. No more. Mine did not have the external decorations--I needed no more to call attention to my lavender-tinted-octagonal-glasses wearing self. I managed to get arrested only once in the van. Add that to the three times for protesting the war in Viet Nam and today I could be in prison for life. What happened to Pat Brown and the Age of Aquarius? Never mind, I just looked in the mirror and saw what happened, not trusting anyone over 30 turned into "Oh, my god, I don't trust anyone under thirty!#$@"
I can see myself now in the assisted living transitional nursing home abode, rolling around in my wheel chair wanting my Beatles and Rolling Stones Stones turned up a little bit louder, demanding munchies instead of meals and, dammit, bring on my drugs!


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