I was living in San Jose in the 60s in a six plex I managed. It was real private. I just rented to my hippie friends. It was built sideways street so it wasn't something the cops would notice. It opened to a sort of alley against the. Very private and very quiet very sunny. I had a downstairs unit and every afternoon I would open the door and let the sun in and put on Charlie Musselwhite, or Barry Goldberg reunion or East-West and read.
It was a wonderful existence. On the weekends I played poker at the local lowball clubs. And I made a nice living doing that. I sold a little pot. And I did some substitute teaching. But mostly I lay on this wonderful white couch with the warm California summer breeze coming in and spent the afternoon listening to hippie music and reading.
I did that for two solid years. At the end I had completely changed as a person. I found out I was an existentialist. That was a was a big discovery. I found out everybody's nuts. That took a lot of pressure off me-lol.
I developed a lot of empathy for the injustice I read about; and It sent me on a course I have never veered from for my entire life, so that is pretty profound.
In my record rack, I had BOB DYLAN highway 61 (wore it out),the doors, Pink Floyd, Charlie Musselwhite, Leonard Cohen, country Joe and the fish, sandy bull, Jefferson airplane, Paul Butterfield, canned heat, Buffalo Springfield, stone ponies, cream, Quicksilver messenger service, focal hair.
Two years of music and books and of course I smoked a joint before I started the afternoon event. Best two years I spent in my life. Had girl friends too-lol. |
