52 You better duck down the alley way

Most of the time we didn't know what road we were on. Just went by which way people told us to go. Heading west, it was a straight shot to Toronto. Wasn't our destination, but we got dropped there. Not everyone that picked us up left a long lasting impression. Probably because we didn't have any deep conversations, just stuff like the usual. Over and over. "Where are you going?" "California."

Toronto was the opposite of Montreal at the time, from what we saw. It's not like we ended up in the business district. Pretty seedy, but a hell of a lot of character.

It took about six hours to make the trip and after living outside for a while, we just wanted to rest up a little before we re-entered the US. All these little things that we do, that send us in whatever direction we end up. I think it was LBJ that asked a couple walking by where there might be a good place to go "crash." They looked at us and then each other and said, "We live around the block. C'mon over." Is that even conceivable now?

Ok. So we walked with them, I guess behind them. Pretty silent. I don't know the name of the neighborhood, but it was a bunch of old row houses. They all looked pretty original but worn down. The way I like them.

Definitely shittier than these

I remember the landing for the front door was really worn wood. The inside of the place was perfectly old. Worn floors. A couple of couches in the living room. No TV. A kitchen with an old table and chairs. They offered us sandwiches and we talked a little in the kitchen. We never talked about things in New York, just about how we wanted to get out of there. But they liked talking politics. That was ok. I could handle myself in those discussions then. We were all pretty leftie and talked the war and Nixon.

We immediately knew that these two were off in a direction further than we were. I'm going to do a poor job describing them but let me try. Humorless. Dour. I had seen a few people like this in New York. They had that look. Not very colorful clothes. Plain. Serious. The fella wore black horn rimmed glasses and the gal really did most of the talking. Whatever talking there was. We smoked some grass and then they plainly said we could take over the couches, but they had people coming over. Alright.

Maybe three or four people came over and went right into the kitchen. Didn't hear a peep out of them. It was strange. We were tired but were quietly discussing what we were thinking. Why would people that were having radical discussions in the kitchen have a couple of dumb kids in the front room? Because "Power to the People." It was their duty to help out the people. And we looked far out enough they felt they could they could trust us. And they could. We just wanted the couches.

None of this is certain, but I think I can sense things about people. LBJ was pretty street wise too. This is just all speculation. I don't remember the first names only that they gave us.

This is just a representation. Kind of like the two on the right, but just an example.

Knocked out on the couches. Woke up in the morning to coffee and the gal saying they were leaving for the day. We had to leave too but could come back after a certain time. Leave our stuff. We were up to exploring the city.

It was the funkiest. It was grimy and seedy, but awesome. Lots of old buildings. 

I vividly remember one block. It was like a drunken bums heaven. Dumpy bars and strip joints. Walking up in the middle of the road because there were bums sitting against the buildings. One topless joint had a painted window with an open circle that you could look through and maybe get a sample. Right about there a super drunk older fella came running out at us. Right up to me. He grabbed me and looked me right in the eyes. His eyes were bright blue, his face was wrinkled and he had white hair and a beard. Drunk. "He's got blue eyes. Never marry him. He'll do you wrong. Never marry a man with blue eyes." I didn't say anything. LBJ didn't say anything. He went back to the sidewalk and we kept walking. I'll never forget him and always wondered what he did.