78 Get me to my room part 2

I went over to the Berkeley Free Clinic the next day and signed up. It was the same fella every day. Your standard looking activist radical of the time. Long black curly hair, beard and horn rimmed glasses. I stood on his line everyday. I think they figured they would know the location and personal habits of each panhandler. That way they could give them the side eye if the locked canister seemed a little light. I had to turn over my birth certificate as a security on the setup, them he gave me a license that I wore around my neck. Lots of people hit up Moe's Books, too many panhandlers already there. So I found a spot in front of a Food Co-op fairly close. It was a pretty good spot. Lots of leftie ladies in and out all day, always dropping a few coins.

So I stayed in the vicinity all that day and LBJ found me. I had to go turn in my coins. I don't remember amounts, but it was OK. I spoke to people throughout the day and learned a little bit. We always ate somehow. Used our money for a burger or something. Headed back to the hostel on the outskirts of town.

We could only use the couples room once during our three day stay. I've mentioned how sex was in the air back then and we were always finding a way or a place. The scheming was part of the fun. So tonight LBJ had an idea... I could could sneak into the men's dorm. Oh boy, was I a spacey hippie. I  said "But how? They'll be awake?" LBJ said to wait till midnight. People did get tired. A lot of the guys actually worked some pretty hard labor during the day. Neither of us wore watches but there were big clocks on the walls, like in schools.

I was on a lower bunk and all the gals were seriously knocked out. I just laid there waiting for midnight. Ok. I slipped out of there and tiptoed over to the other side. I barely opened the door and peaked in. Uh oh. Lots more bunks. But LBJ had a lower bunk too and could see me when I opened the door. He waved.

Yeah well, I walked on over there. Didn't see any movement or anything. I wanted to keep this on the sly. There were a lot of guys in there. I'd say at least over fifty individuals and I only knew one of them. I wasn't planning on causing any kind of commotion. I was sneaking.

What can I say? I got in there and we started, but I did want to be quiet. Well, obviously my clothes started to come off. Of course you can try with your clothes on, but that would be uncomfortable and makes it a little more confining. Ok quiet. I know I put my hand over LBJ's mouth a few times because "don't wake anyone up." Ssssssh. We were probably moving around a bit too. I know we were. Then LBJ tossed me on top. I said "Is anyone awake?" "They're sleeping." Excuse me for explaining this, but all my parts were flying around. No blanket. No clothes. I thought we were doing a good job of keeping this escapade on the down low.

Eventually we finished. You know it doesn't go on forever. So I quietly grabbed my clothes and tiptoed out of the room. All the gals were still sleeping. Slept like a log. Got up, cleaned up and dressed. Headed on out of the building. As I'm walking a couple of the guys walked passed me. "Thank you." "Thanks for last night."  I got that floaty feeling. But really, it was then that I knew my life was going to be a strange dream. I just felt out of body and thought "Wow. This is weird." I wasn't embarrassed or upset. I just wondered "What am I watching?" Another fella told me he about everything he saw. Hmm. This didn't go as planned. I know the naked hippie thing, but you usually know it when it's happening. Guess we were all stoned anyway.

One more night there and we had to figure out something else anyway. I didn't get worried about much. Lilies of the Field. The last few pages of that chapter happened later in the day, when we lined up to go in. Ok. Some guys saw me but when I went up there to sign my name I hear "Stay out of the men's dorm tonight. We heard all about it." Jesus. Apparently nearly everyone saw it and remained quiet. Where are we sleeping tomorrow night anyway?

77 Get me to my room part 1

So it was out of Shattuck Arms after a week. We each took our bags and headed out for the day. Did some exploring on Telegraph Ave. I noticed that there were folks with little coin tins panhandling for the Berkeley Free Clinic. They wore licenses around their necks, so I got into a conversation with a fellow asking him about it. He said "Yeah. Go in there. They'll set you up. You get 10% of the money you collect." Alright.

Asked a couple of people directions to the youth hostel. Heard they didn't open till 5 or so everyday. When it was closer to time we started walking. Other travelers were headed in that direction and we all kind of made it over there in a big group. I'm not even sure if it was still Berkeley. It was quite a ways and sort of industrial looking.

I've got to try to describe what we were all looking like. There were no stylish counter culture people moving around and hitchhiking. We all had minimal possessions except for the chicken lady. I'll talk about her later. Guys hair was pretty long in 1972, same for the girls. Our bodies were all in a natural state. I never really ran into many people that were smelling super bad, except for the chicken lady and her man. My hair was probably combed more than anyone's. I sure as hell didn't want all the knots I had from riding in that sports car, ever again. We found ways to express our personality through dress though. I didn't have a lot, but I wore a beaded choker and my scarves. If you found an old piece of clothing that was different, it was treasured.

We got there early. A line formed in the dirt out front. Found out that the girls had a room and the guys had another. The guys room was pretty big. Just more guys on the road. We were so early we had the option to be in the "Couples Room." Sure! We gave them our names and that's all there was to it.

Smaller than this.

So we stood outside the door to the couple's room. There was another guy and girl out there. "What are we waiting for?" "Oh. There's another couple in there already." Huh? Why do we have to wait? They just kind of looked at me. I'm thinking that maybe everyone in California isn't as fun as I thought. They answered "Uhh. Each couple gets half an hour alone. Then we can all use the room." You got to remember that certain boundaries were still being broken in 1972. I know that people are letting it all hang out on social media now, but many young people during that time were raised in prudish homes. That was hard to shed for some and it was a slower approach. It was show up the way you want. There was the mundane and there was the sensational.

I spoke about a couple of my friends in New York before. "S" did the whole heroin fueled orgy bit in the city with her older boyfriend. She'd describe it to me and it sounded like she was doing it just to do it. She really didn't like finding all kind of body parts all over herself when she woke up. Dirty parts of the city, too. She wanted to stop but I think she was motivated by her aversion to her parents and the Catholic Church. I was witness a few times to her walking into her house. I'd be smiling and her mom would ask her where the hell she was all that time. "Go fuck yourself." The finger and "go fuck yourself" every time to her mom. Her mom would be in curlers and a housedress. Her mom loved me because I didn't say "go fuck yourself." Mom was in curlers, so "S" ironed her hair.

"I" was doing the same thing but stuck with drugs you could smoke or swallow. She kind of hung with more musical people and she was nicer to her mother. Her sister covered for her and she did the same for her sister. The dads really didn't get too involved with what the daughters were doing. 

I was the more flowery of the three. Out of my mind with escapades but I wanted to escape the dirt that was New York. They were getting in deeper and I wanted out. When I got to California I thought "Ok. We'll all just kiss the trees and love one another!'

We had our half an hour. Whatever. Eventually the door was opened to all three couples. Ok. Rules. Not my forté. It was a room with three mattresses thrown on the floor. Cool. I don't need anything. The other two couples in there were pretty boring. LBJ and I wandered around. They always had free apples. Some gal was crying in the girls "dorm" and lots of really tired young ladies were yelling at her to shut up. I was starting to notice that not everyone was a kind soul. I tried to see if there was anything I could help with, but she didn't want it. I think she was with the mean chicks. Maybe they were Manson girl-like. Well, back to the "couples room."

We all just slept. It was morning and you could hear some loud dudes going around telling everyone "Time to get up!" There were a few guys that looked to be freaks themselves, probably in their 30's, running the show. Like I said earlier I think they were funded by do-gooders that lived in the expensive parts of Berkeley. The bathrooms were packed, but there was coffee and donuts. We'd be back that night. Ha ha. Ha ha. Very funny. That's a story. One of the highlights.

But anyway we headed on out of there walking back to Berkeley. I was going to check out the free clinic gig. We walked with the chicken lady and her man. She definitely stood out. These were the first people I ever met from Texas. Accents ruled then. If they based a couple of characters in a movie on these two you'd say "ridiculous." But the most amazing examples exist out there. Unafraid to be themselves. Man. I just wanted to know more. They lived on a farm and raised chickens. But the weird thing is she looked just like a chicken. Her hair was super short and she had a bony face. Her nose was bumped out and looked like a chicken beak. She walked real funny too. Kind of jerky. Speed up. Slow down. Gotta say I kept my distance cause they sure did have a peculiar aroma. An unusual amount of baggage they carried too. "Wow! You were living on a farm, that's beautiful! Why did you give it up?" They plain out said running from the law. Something with a car and assault. I don't remember. "Alright. See you later!" And we did. More than a few times.

76 For the people

We had a couple of days left before we had to get out of the Shattuck Arms. We were fooling around a bit and needed to figure out our next move. I was recovered from the Jerry Garcia night and the Shroud of Turin. On the street and in the International House of Pancakes (it wasn't IHOP yet), we heard that a number of fellow travelin' people stayed at People's Park.

Yeah. I heard a lot about People's Park well before we got there. It was a movement. A glorious dream. An empty parcel of land owned by the University once populated with houses that were razed. Talks of development. It started with a pair of lovers that used it as a secret rendezvous site. They presented a plan to keep it from being turned into a parking lot. Others promoted it as an area for free speech. Imagine that. Lots of fights. There's a history in books if you're interested.

All I'm going to say is that any protester knew that if they were out there, they could get their head knocked in at any moment. That's the way it was. I'm not saying everyone was noble, but they weren't whining. At least not much.

Anyway, LBJ and I didn't always do everything together. I like to do things by myself sometimes. Makes it easier to stand there and stare at things. So he went up to The Hillel Streetwork Project to find out about work. Heard about that place too. It was mostly a guy thing for the aimless hippies because it usually involved some kind of construction. I went over to People's Park to see the situation. 

I was a little surprised that by 1972 it was just dirt. Reagan had sent in the Highway Patrol in 1969 to rip out the trees and plants because he didn't like the sex deviants there. It just stayed dirt but people were still hanging out and living there. I've tried to explain the difference between NY hippies and California hippies before. NY hippies lived in black and white but California hippies were in color. The Park had some of those full spectrum color hippies. I'll never forget the lady wearing the most shear chiffon piece of material with a flower crown. Every time I saw her. She resembled Mama Cass and I thought "Yeah. A free spirit."

There were quite a number of people staying there. I don't know. The crowd and the dirt weren't too appealing to me. The do-gooders in town that lived in normal houses would stop by during the afternoon with food. Just stood on that line a couple of times because I found out that this Utopia couldn't sustain the hopes and aspirations it was created on. Not every human there had peaceful intent.

The very first time I was there I met someone, a group of people actually, that meant harm. Uhh. Hard to explain. I was a utopian loving airhead and thought this must have been the place. I loved people and showed it with my smile. I'm skipping a little of my self description because it sounds weird. Well, there was this group of guys and they apparently had a spokesman. The way I would describe him is Mike Tyson with more muscles. He made it clear. He warned me. "We're going to get you. I promise." I turned and ignored him. I stood there, kind of in a trance. I was an airhead, but not stupid. I just trusted the cosmos. He'll be in the story again.

Went to the Park one more time and it was emphatically repeated. That was the last time I went there. Headed up the block to the Krishna Temple. It was a really big place and the Krishna people were all over town with their colorful flowers and chanting. Needed something good. 

We heard that there was a youth hostel that you could stay at for free for three days on the outskirts of town. So that's where we went next. I met the Chicken Lady there.

75 Are you dizzy when you're stoned part 2

I laid on the floor for a long time. I didn't want to get up. I was still riding on that vision. I know I must have eventually gotten up to walk down the hallway to pee, even though I've been known to really hold it. And yeah, I didn't pee into the sink. "You peed in the sink?" "Yeah. There was a line at the bathroom." And I didn't pee out the window either.

I may have gotten up late in the afternoon to look out the window at the movie marquee. The California. That was the coolest thing ever. I loved that. I've always dreamt of what it must have been like to work at an old theater, before the chains took over. The film running and slipping. The hot smell of the projector. Kids having a great time. Teenagers losing their minds and adults trying to escape theirs.

Must have been the brick building to the left.

LBJ gave up on me ever joining the living that day. "I'm going to go see a movie next door." "Ok." When he got back he kept going on about how great the movie was. I saw the big letters everyday. "The Godfather." "What was it about?" blah blah. "Oh." Staring out at the marquee of any movie from 1972 was pretty cool, but I guess looking out that window at the people and traffic was a sight that I feel fortunate to have seen.

In a way I didn't want to hear anything about the mafia considering how fucked up it all was. I just wanted to forget about it. I guess LBJ needed to know. I never saw it till VCR's were a thing and some of the wounds in my soul were closed up. It eventually grew on me.

The theater is closed now and the building we were staying in is some friggin KoKoLo Danburi and Chipotle. That's what ya got.

74 Are you dizzy when you're stoned

That morning after Jesus left we had work to do. We had to figure our next move. We went in search of People's Park to see what was going on. Oh, I'll be typing up my stories about that a little later. I am pretty sure the place we were staying in was at the corner of Shattuck and Kittredge and we started walking. We noticed a music venue at Shattuck and University called The Keystone.

Jerry Garcia was playing there the next night. I got a little worked up over that. There were two Dead albums that I really loved. American Beauty and Workingman's Dead. Casey Jones. We had to go. Yes. We were new to town but we couldn't go without a little something for our head either. Well, California 1972. Shouldn't have too much problem with that.

It could have been the August 18, 1972 show, but I can't be 100% sure. Somewhere about then. I guess he played there a lot. So we put a day in wandering around and now it was the next day. LBJ had been out early and had found some LSD for the show that night. Alright, figure the start of the show and then figure how long before you might start getting some "peak" effects. You start feeling stuff before but I always gave it a good three hours for it to really start getting in there. I don't know if it's changed.

Up until this point I had done very well with the drug. I experienced glowing leaves, feelings of elation. A definite oneness with nature. Things that appeared lifeless began to move. Rocks became faces and appeared to talk. Bright colors. A deep empathy for other humans. I liked to draw absurd pictures of toaster people. Listening to the stereo move from one speaker to the other on a path right through your body. Funny stuff. And sex too, but I don't feel like mentioning that now.

But I was always aware of my existence. So I probably took some around 4 pm thinking we'd get there around 7. But I was always pushing it, further out on the planes. Looking to step on some stars. I think I took twice as much as LBJ. All I remember was laying on the floor where Jesus laid down his head.

I lost my identity. There was no time. There were no faces, no sounds. I heard nothing. I only saw red. A vastness of red. Lord help me when I admit this but I was at the creation of time. In the redness I realized I was the God being. I was not myself. This was not a fast process. As I became aware of my existence I realized I had two sides. I continued to exist. Just red. Then I became aware of arms. Tools. I took my right arm from my chest and spread it outwards and there was man. He laid on the right side. I took my left arm from my chest and spread it outwards and there was woman. She laid on the left side. Then I could feel the power of life. This really was a pretty heavy trip.

I was on that floor all night. We never went to that Jerry Garcia show.

73 milk and honey days

We ended up at Golden Gate Park. It was a beautiful day and loving the view of the bay and the bridge. Used one of those sea binoculars to take a look at Alcatraz. It was vacant in 1972. There was an occupation starting in 1969 when "Indians of All Tribes" took control of the island till 1971. Read about it. It's interesting.

There were some hippies hanging out, but not a lot. It was obvious that Berkeley was meant for us.

Missed a darn good concert too. But organized gatherings weren't always in my story. I'd have to figure out about what day and month we were in, but it was past June 30.

Headed back on the bus. It was easy to take. We stopped at Telegraph Ave. That was the main drag. Most of the scene happened there. Sure there were a lot of cool coffee shops and restaurants in Berkeley, but an awful lot of the hippies hung at the International House of Pancakes. Yes, a chain restaurant. They had a lot of seating and the coffee pots were endless. You could buy pretty cheap food too. I always got a bowl of oatmeal and coffee. They encouraged groups and people to crowd together in booths and at tables. So you always got to meet people. Talk. Find out information on maybe some work or some free stuff. Sorry I can't find any photos from that time period, let alone now.

We had a miraculous guest at our table that late afternoon. Now I'm not kidding. We didn't laugh it off or say pshaw. Jesus asked if he could sit with us. He was wearing long, plain and kind of raggy robes. The hair and the beard. Now some of you might say today that Jesus wasn't white. Maybe, maybe not. I think that any deity can appear in any form. He sat with us and asked if we could buy him a bowl of oatmeal. Of course. No question. Of course we would. We didn't have much, so none of it meant anything anyway.

He appeared this certain way but when he sat we all introduced ourselves. He said "Jesus." I was so open to different experiences, different people, different spirituality. I asked "Theee Jesus?" He said yes. I stand on the highest mountain closest to the heavens when I tell you he showed us stigmata. All the way through and through. Hands, feet, wound on his side and scars on his head. I looked closely. Good size nails went all the way through his hands. They weren't fresh but the scars were thick.

Think what you want about him but he had a beautiful way of talking about love and peace. Maybe he was a spaced out hippie. Maybe an old soul wanted to see what was going on. Doesn't matter. Every voice for love is a glorious gift.

We ate and talked for a long time. It was dark and we were going to leave. We couldn't drink anymore coffee. We asked Jesus where he lived. This was before the homeless situation we have today. Back then if hippies were living outside it was usually under a tree, or in Berkeley at People's Park, or they crashed somewhere they were invited. He said 'a cardboard box.' I said "a cardboard box?" We went outside and he showed us a large appliance folded up cardboard box leaning against the restaurant. Oh.... something we hadn't seen before. In New York people lived in abandoned buildings or stairways. "Would you like to stay in our room with us?" Yes. He appreciated that.

Brought him in and we all sat on the floor and talked a little while more. About kindness and love. We decided to sleep. He said he'd sleep on the floor. ❤️‍🔥 We tried to give him blankets and pillows but he didn't want anything. He thanked us for our kindness and we all went to sleep.

We slept pretty heavy but woke up when we heard the door close. I looked on the floor and noticed he left some of the cloth from his robes that he draped over himself. LBJ got up and opened the window and called out "Hey! You left some stuff!" Jesus looked back and yelled "Keep it."

Sometimes I think the cardboard box was a message telling us where we were headed. I also think, you can believe I'm a complete flake but you weren't there, that I got a small blessing for all of that. No matter what or who he was, he was in a state of grace. I am still trying to learn the lesson. LBJ and I also wondered if we should have kept the cloth. Maybe it would have been like the Shroud of Turin. But we couldn't load ourselves down on our travels.

72 Anyplace left to go

We weren't sure yet our destination. Just kept walking further into the city. The hills were impressive. I'll never forget that we ended up walking down Broadway. I've been through some of the seediest parts of New York at the time, but the red light area of San Francisco was more "colorful." In New York they had a few people handing out leaflets or whatever, but they left you alone. You wanted to go in, you went in. You wanted to walk down the street, you walked down the street. San Francisco had aggressive hawkers. Leave us alone. We're just walking here. Do what the hell you want but leave me alone when I'm walking down the street. I told them too.

We wanted to find Haight-Ashbury. Of course. C'mon. It was a couple more miles of walking from Pacific Heights. I couldn't believe how much I loved the sight of old Victorian houses all clumped together up and down the hills. The people that built those must have had an appreciation of craftsmanship and imaginations to fit the beauty of looking out at the western ocean.

I knew it wasn't going to be what it was a few years earlier, but even still I was pretty disappointed. There wasn't much going on there that day. Not too much to see. A few storefront clinics. A few panhandlers. Maybe it was just that moment. We ended up talking to a fellow on the street and he said lots of people started heading out other ways. Up north or Berkeley. Yeah Berkeley. Just right across another bridge. They named the Free Speech movement after it.

We needed to settle in a little and nothing was happening there. I'm not even sure how we got to Berkeley. It might have been by bus. Jesus. We just wanted to find a place to plop down and that can be difficult in cities. We ended up on Shattuck Avenue and saw a place called the Shattuck Arms. Weekly rooms. We had some money. Not a lot. So we rented a room there for a week. We really didn't have too much money left after that. The room was in the front of the building and if you opened the window and looked to the left, there was a giant movie theater marquee. I've read it's all gone now.

The room was painted that sea green color. The hallways too. We had a sink in the room but we had to share the bathroom down the hall with everyone else on the floor. An old metal frame bed. A lot happened that week we were in that room, but we just needed to eat. We ate a lot of peanut butter but had to have something different every so often. We had a can opener. Went to a little market and picked up a couple cans of things. No real way to cook anything but we already knew the trick of running hot water over the can. We had a couple of forks and spoons besides our peanut butter knife. The bed squeaked and the blankets were itchy, but who cared. It wasn't too dirty.

We decided to go back to San Francisco the next day to look around again. After that we needed to think about money for food and where the hell else we might be able to live.