03 February 2019

Can’t Kill a Man for Trying



Flash from 1971:

I got paroled out early on the mescaline rap.

As part of my parole agreement I had to have a stable address, a real job, & a shrink evaluation. Well, the first two weren't readily happening so I decided to go talk to a shrink.

Doc Stone ran a free clinic & rescue hotline. I went to talk to him & ended up killing three birds with one (Dr.) Stone.

Turns out he had headed up some LSD trials for the National Institute of Mental Health in the previous decade. Basically they just dosed people without telling them & then observed the results. Doc admitted candidly that he had seen psychedelics from both sides, having both observed others & voluntarily dosing himself (damn...the NIMH had their hands on honest to goodness Sandoz LSD25 derived from rye ergot). He was fairly sympathetic to my mescaline arrest & helped get me a job (one bird) at a season long (stable address - two birds) summer camp (Camp Cornplanter near Kiasutha back toward Mudlick) for mentally challenged youths (& signed my psych chit - three birds).



"Don't worry (easy you brain), about a thing (do you hear what we say)
Every little thing is gonna be alright (Well listen we again)"

I was made senior counselor for the older non-educable boys (I say boys, but David, our oldest, was forty-one, though most were about my age, in their late teens to early twenties). They were definitely a handful demanding constant attention & I was on duty 23 hours every day. I got a break for one hour each day between 1 & 2 in the afternoon while my campers were having swimming & were covered by my two junior counselors as well as the life guard & the swim coach.

I would head back to our cabin (see picture above - about two minutes from the pool) & smoke as much hashish as I could from the home-made sink-plumbing hash pipe I had made in Crafts Class.

Note:

I got paid every week on Thursdays. On Fridays my pal Mole would show up at camp at 1:05pm precisely with an ounce of Afghani Primo hash. I'd meet him at the gate, sign over my check to him & I was set for another week. I had no need of money here at camp...literally three hots & a cot provided. I had no need of money here.  I needed escape.

Back to the tale:

I had a portable record player in our cabin. I had two LPs. Each day I would listen to alternating records. Smoking out & rocking out until the albums last tone, then back to work, able to bear the weight of it all for one more day. This is one of the two records I cycled.

(For the other one, go here ).




The New York Rock Ensemble - Roll Over, Columbia C 30033, 1971.
decryption code in comments


Side 1 -
Running Down the Highway
Gravedigger
Law & Order
Fields of Joy
The King is Dead

Side 2 -
Don’t Wait too Long
Anaconda
Beside You
Traditional Order
Ride, Ride My Lady

NRE is: Clif Nivison - guitar & vocals; Hank Devito - pedal steel guitar; Mike Kamen - organ, piano, oboe, & vocals; Dorian Rudnytsky - bass & cello; Marty Fulterman - drums, oboe, & vocals.

Light up & enjoy,

5 comments:

  1. L9tLqe6uM9m1FIx4KBGtTJ66RZFipBTv6sVnQEIGG9s

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  2. I imagine you had some interesting experiences during that season, both vocational and recreational. If I had only two albums to listen to each day for months on end, I'm not sure I would ever want to hear them again for the rest of my life!

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    1. I kinda thought the same myself. It was probably 35 years before I listened to either American Woman or Roll Over. Oddly enough, I was quite enamored to both when I gave them another shot. I realize that they are both great music & also hold a special nostalgia boost that perhaps adds to the enjoyment for me.

      Hope others are liking these offerings as well as .

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    2. I'm just hoping the swelling doesn't go down.

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