| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| richfed |
Posted - April 05 2003 : 08:34:05 AM
One of my faves: Rich & Butch - hoplessly in love  - strolling down a lane in Central Park - circa 1973
The IDEA Slick sat pondering the next great adventure as the rain poured down on his bedroom window pane. The upstairs bedroom window pane. Upstairs at his mother’s home. His father had died of a heart attack a few short years - though it seemed a lifetime - ago. Deep Purple’s Made in Japan blared tinnily from the cheap pair of speakers on the cheap little stereo in the dreary little room. A curious blend of lemon scent and stale marijuana smoke permeated the place. An eclectic assortment of photos and posters, newspaper clippings and drawings, adorned the light, paneled walls. Ghandi, Abbie Hoffman, Grateful Dead, “Impeach Nixon”, black armbands, peace signs in neon pink day-glo, Mickey Mantle ... they were all there. There was a damp, chill in the room. A small lamp cast a yellow glow. The mood was perfect for pondering.
Slick stretched his long, lean body out on the green & white paisley foam couch, propping his long-haired head up on a throw pillow. His ears nearly bled from the pounding strains of “Smoke on the Water”, as the smoke in the room nearly choked off all signs of pure air. He stroked his thick, black beard, staring emptily at a poster of his near-heroes, the Chicago 7. Reaching backwards over his head, he pulled the narrow drawer open on the night table. Ahh, that lemon marijuana smell spilled forth. That old ball of lemon wax sure made a good cover up. So he thought. Anyone not stoned out of their mind would have wanted to puke. He blindly fumbled around in the drawer, pulling out the pipe and plastic bag. Carefully as he could in such a relaxed position, he filled the pipe, replaced the bag, lit it up, and took a long, slow toke.
It was hard to believe Slick’s mother didn’t know about all the drug use going on up there. Well, actually she did - Slick and his sidekick and good buddy, Doof, had been busted down in the North Carolina foothills only two and a half years before. She must only have pretended not to know. Easier to deal with. All that noise, the sometimes constant stream of visitors - Dink and Doc and Skin and Foch and Bean and MaKow - and that smell, oh that ever-present smell. Of course she knew. It was only a formality to hide the stash. Slick continued to smoke the pipe, Ritchie Blackmore soloed wildly on Lazy, the rain continued in driving fashion. How to break this boredom. Nothing much was happening these days on Long Island. His mind drifted back to the summer of ‘72. How could he relive those exciting days?
As he continued mulling over that great cross-country hitchhiking trip he and Doof had experienced, ranging haphazardly all over Canada and the west coast as far south as Berkeley, he realized the traveling bug wasn’t quite out of him yet. Something about hitting the road with little care, even less money, and no direction. It was wonderful! The long bonds he had with all the gang going back to sandbox days, on through little league, and into and beyond high school, were beginning to deteriorate. It wasn’t like they didn’t all like each other any more. Just everyone was growing up and moving in different directions. A natural progression.
Thunder crashed. Deep Purple was raising their loud fury to a crescending climax, the pot was having a surreal effect on Slick’s mind. It was all deafening. Suddenly, there was a pounding on the door. It had started as a more innocuous knocking, but no way any one would hear that through all that racket. The door opened. It was Doof. Standing there, soaking wet, his shoulder length, brown hair drooped over his chubby cheeks. The stench of the wet leather of his fringed buckskin jacket rising above even the stench of the room.
Excerpted from Madame Mimi's Hussy Bus
(or, Doglegging Across America) - 1995
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| 1 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| Bean |
Posted - April 05 2003 : 09:58:13 AM
ahh haaa, now the truth comes out Richie my main man or so I thought, you were cheating on me with the Doofus...!!!
Seriously Richie...some nice creative writing there by you, loved reading every word of it !
I really regret to this day not going on the California trip with all you guys, I think all our lives would have been different had I gone, probably we'd all be world famous rock stars or doing 30 to life somewhere! - Bean and in honor of that trip, I give you
Led Zeppelin
Spent my days with a woman unkind, Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine.
Made up my mind to make a new start, Going To California with an aching in my heart.
Someone told me there's a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.
Took my chances on a big jet plane, never let them tell you that they're all the same.
The sea was red and the sky was grey, wondered how tomorrow could ever follow today.
The mountains and the canyons started to tremble and shake
as the children of the sun began to awake.
Seems that the wrath of the Gods
Got a punch on the nose and it started to flow;
I think I might be sinking.
Throw me a line if I reach it in time
I'll meet you up there where the path
Runs straight and high.
To find a queen without a king,
They say she plays guitar and cries and sings... la la la
Ride a white mare in the footsteps of dawn
Tryin' to find a woman who's never, never, never been born.
Standing on a hill in my mountain of dreams,
Telling myself it's not as hard, hard, hard as it seems.
Spent my days with a woman unkind, Smoked my stuff and drank all my wine.
Made up my mind to make a new start, Going To California with an aching in my heart.
Someone told me there's a girl out there with love in her eyes and flowers in her hair.
Took my chances on a big jet plane, never let them tell you that they're all the same.
The sea was red and the sky was grey, wondered how tomorrow could ever follow today.
The mountains and the canyons started to tremble and shake
as the children of the sun began to awake.
Seems that the wrath of the Gods
Got a punch on the nose and it started to flow;
I think I might be sinking.
Throw me a line if I reach it in time
I'll meet you up there where the path
Runs straight and high.
To find a queen without a king,
They say she plays guitar and cries and sings... la la la
Ride a white mare in the footsteps of dawn
Tryin' to find a woman who's never, never, never been born.
Standing on a hill in my mountain of dreams,
Telling myself it's not as hard, hard, hard as it seems.
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