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CAUTION!

THIS BOOK IS NOT PROFESSIONNALY WRITTEN,

PUBLISHED OR EVEN POSSOBLY RESEARCHED

.

PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

Here I sit at six a.m., still stoned on mushroom that I ate last night in an effort to finnish the book, I see the end in sight. As I take the last hits off a joint and sip my coffee, I look around and say to myself "This could very well be the dwelling of a great author." I have more instruments than furniture in my one bedroom apartment in a town far away.

I guess it depends on you and your definition of what a great author is. Please be leiniant though, I'm a nice guy.

Thank you for buying my book I hope I have the oppertunity to return the favor. Most of all though, I hope you enjoy my reading about my life nearly as much as I've enjoyed living it.

Have fun!

love

TABLE OF CONTENTS

FIRSTLY..................................................FIRST PAGE

FINALLY..................................................LAST PAGE

THE REST................................................THE REST

HIGH SCHOOL CANOE TRIP

I was 15, in grade 11 at George S. Henry high school in Toronto and they were sending some students on a canoe trip to Algonquin park in Ontario. Having spent 6 years at camp Tamakwa in Algonquin, loving the canoe trips, not only did I want to go with school but I also ended up playing a role in planning the trip.

At this age I was mischevious but not mean,same as now actually. I would spend time with my friend Lee, who was that days preppy kid, arguing things like life, death, god and girls. I wrote poetry explaining my thoughts. Dave was, apparently, another thinking kid. We made friends in french class when he came in carrying a Jim Morrisson poetry book.

Ernie was another friend as was Chris and Todd. Together we smoked cigarettes, hash, pot(dime bags bought from the local housing projects). We occasionally used mushrooms and acid on weekends,the Roxy played The Song Remains the Same and Rocky Horror Picture Show every Friday, Saturday night and we played alot in the local ravines.

The canoe trip started and ended on North Tea lake and did a loop through probably 10 lakes for what was suppose to be 3 days. One teacher and four canoes went in each direction to meet in the middle and at the end. I was one of the four sternsman, a position of authority (at least over the direction of my canoe). I helped put the canoes in the water, sort the packs and pointed to the two prettiest girls and told them to get in my canoe. Mr. Nelson was our teacher/chaperone and a cool, quiet guy.

My canoe was most organised. We were always the first to land at portages, to unload finnish the portage, reload and launch. I was proud of this. After our longest portage I almost fell out of the canoe laughing when Mr. Nelson put down his canoe, exhausted he sat on the bank and looked up at my canoe all ready to go waiting on everyone else. He said simply "Fuck you Gitelman." in response to my smile that probably said "We're ready, how about you?".

The girl in the front of my canoe, Anne, was incredible. She was beautiful, natural and happy. The first night I asked her to sleep with me and she said no. So far in life I would leave such a person alone after a no, but there was something so wonderful about Anne that I asked her to sit by the lake with me and I told her of all my thinkings. Here's what I'm like, I'm nuts about you, if you like me here I am. She seemed interested and I asked her for a kiss goodnight. Again she said no. Too much. I said "Gee, my brother said if I said all these things to you, you'd give me at least a kiss.". She was shocked at that was that. I got her out of my canoe.

I've had asthma since age four and tonight it seemed pretty odd. My lungs were feeling weak so I took it easy. I tried to go to bed early but I couldn't sleep. My medicine didn't help and I used it up trying to keep things under control. At this point I relised I should be in a hospital but that was pretty out of the question being in the wilderness far from civilization. I stayed up until my brain was feeling pins and needlesy from lack of oxygen. I woke up Mr. Nelson and told him I had to get to a hospital. He got a little upset and ran about saying "What are we going do?"

I told him to put a canoe in the water, take some food, first aid kit, a map, him (Kevin, the biggest guy on the trip), and her(Anne). Off we went Kevin in the bow, Mr. Nelson in the stern and I was laying in the middle with my head on Anne's lap.

Mr. Nelson and Kevin were great, probably save my life. They paddled hard for eight hours through dark and rain. At portages, just two that I can remember, they would grab everything and run to the other side, run back and gently carry me between them and place me in the canoe. I was mostly out of it. I remember my left lung collapsing it hurt in a brand new form of pain than I had ever experience. I thought I was going to die, not a cool thing to do on the lap of a beautiful girl who said no twice to me. I told her that I felt like I was going to pass out and not to worry because it would be restful therefore healthy.

I remember having to shit at one of the portage and while the guys were running everything to the other side I, embarassed, asked Anne to turn away because I didn't have the strength to go anywhere one my own. I didn't even have the strength to wipe my ass!

It was still morning when we reached North Tea lake. Mr. Nelson ran down the road looking for help, leaving us alone. Very sick, knowing that just sitting there was no good I told Kevin to break the window of the cottage closest to us to use the phone and to get us out of the rain. I don't remember well but I think I broke it and Mr. Nelson showed up soon with a neighbor and a stationwagon. I remember him placing me in the front seat and strapping me in. I remember saying, in my semi-consious state, something to the effect that the teacher should be the one to get the front seat priveledges. We came to a town and there was a factory on the outskirts. We pulled in and I remember Mr. Nelson hopping out before the car fully stopped and ran waving his hands over his head yelling "MEDICAL EMERGENCY!! MEDICAL EMERGENCY!!"

This was embarassing also but there was nothing I could do. The next thing I remember is that I had fallen sideways in my seat and the ambulance crew was dragging me out of the car. On the stretcher being put in the ambulance, being short of breath unable to speak up, I grabbed the shirt of the ambulance attendant's shirt and pulled her close to my mouth. I could only whisper "I need predinesone",(steroids).

"Oh, we're just a volunteer ambulance, we dont have steriods" she said in her country bumpkin accent.

This was the last I remember.

They took me to the hospital in Burks Falls. Apperantly I would regain conciousness and swear at the doctor. He refused to treat me because of it. I imagine Mr. Nelson persisted and the doctor gave me valium to shut me up. Mr. Nelson called my parents and my mother told him to check my fingers , toes and lips for signs of blueness. I guess I was pretty blue. They put me back into the ambulance and took me to Huntsville hospital. On the way there the valium kicked in relaxing me to the point that my other lung colapsed. My mother hopped into a taxi for the three hour ride to Huntsville. I had two collapsed lungs, pnuemnea from the rain caused a high temperature, my heart rate was dangerously fast and there was something like 15 tubes in my body running my normal functions. Sounds like a long dramatic fight to keep me alive. When my mother spoke to me, my heart rate mellowed some. She read by my side.

It took two days before I was stable enough to be flown to Toronto's Sick Kid's Hospital but the weather wasn't stable. A private plane was hired to take me to Toronto where a helicopter brought me to the

hospital and I was admitted to the intensive care unit. My parents stayed and read to me around the clock for two weeks until I woke up. My parents didn't know for eight days wether I would live or not then the question was how long I had been without oxygen. When I woke I put toghether my last and new thoughts. I knew I was sick and in a hospital. I knew I was on a school trip. Together it turned to this, I figured it was a school trip to the hospital but I was very sick and needed real medical attention. I remember battling the nurse trying to get out telling her that I was sick.

I also remember being bathed by a nurse in my bed. Probably from the demoral, codine and morphine, I pictured myself in a hospital bed race, naked, being washed by a nurse on a stool with wheels. I saw all the familiar buildings of Young st. pass by as my bath and the race continued. I wasn't embarrassed about being naked on Young st. because of the nurse but I remember thinking that the bath was almost finnished and we were almost at Wellesly. I pointed it out and told her we should head back.

My friends had got a huge get well soon card, taken it downtown and got it sign by everyone from policemen to prostitutes. It was a great card!

After disconecting all but a few of the tubes from my now emaciated body, I was sent to the regular wards where I could leave after I was able to eat. I remember crying with the nurse in the X-ray lab who was used to my other visits when I had been healthy enough to play around in wheelchairs. Now I didn't even have the strength to turn the wheels myself.

I remember going to bathe on my own. wandering down the hall using all my strength and my I.V. pole just to stand. When I sat in the tub and noticed how my legs had turned to bony sticks (I think I went from 135 lbs. to below 100 lbs.) I pretty well panicked and called the nurse to get me out!

Hospital visits before were usually fun, But this time being sick sucked. I had to get out! I ordered lots of food and gave it to my brother or hid it so they thought I was eating well. I was allowed to go home.

The short car ride took up all my strength, I had barely sat up on my own for probably a month. When we got home I was very week and pretty frightened that I would have to go back to the hospital.

My familly and my friends were great! They nursed me back to health.

Anne came to visit me in the hospital. She fed me grapes, I was in heaven. This girl was very special. She asked if what I said about my brother was just a joke, and it was. When I got home Anne would come by and take me for walks around the house and the around the block later when I was more able. She often visited me twice a day.222222

Slowly I went back to school where I often spent time with Anne. I remember my first day back at school, my mother dropped me off. I came a little late for class so I wouldn't spend any of my little strength dealing with the crowds before class started. I wore loose track pants to try and hide how skinny I had become.

Ralph Ridgeway, Vice-Principal, was the only one in the hall when I was at my locker. He came up and slapped my back hard and said "Lost a little weight, did we?"

I turned and swung to hit him and he moved back and I fell down. He walked away, probably giggling. I got up and went to class.

I cooked dinner for Anne a couple of nights a week and she came to most family functions. She had a boyfriend at the time, some jock from school and she was very much the cheerleader type. Beautiful blond girl so natural and happy looking. She rode horses competitively doing those fancy step things and was a little bow legged, and it just looked great in a pair of jeans. She was involved in every school team and club. Anne was your basic Year Book Queen, sweetest thing I had ever met, and she thought I was great! I didn't care about her boyfriend we were just very close friends.

DUKE'S

I got a part time job at Treats. We made and sold coffee, muffins, cookies and big cookie-grams. I was good at the cookie-grams. He offered me full time work and I quit school and moved in with my ex-math teacher. There I sold about 5-7 pounds of pot a month. I would come home from work and sit on the couch by the stereo, hang out and listen to tunes dipping my pipe into a really big bag of dope feeling like Ol' KIng Cole. Many friends would always come over and we'd puff all night. Duke, the nickname of the below 5 FT short mathteacher, had a glass bong with face masks and it burned all night like a smokestack! We first met this bong at a chess tournement at Waterloo University. Our school chess team was me and a few friends who loved to get high and didn't care about chess. Duke was the coach. I think we lost every game, we didn't show up for many, and we even enjoyed how easy it was to disturb a chess tournament.

One night at Duke's I had prepared a surprise for my friends. Instead of puffing inside all night I suggested that we roll a bunch of joints and go to the park at the end of the street. We rolled up 11 joints and 8 of us went to the park. We sat across the paved path from each other on two park benches. An older, cleancut friend, Eliot, and a friend of his came across the park in trench coats and suits. They stopped at us and flashed a bullshit badge,"We're looking for Mike Gitelman.", Eliot said.

Faithfully my friends said we don't know him. So I confessed. I turned myself into Eliots friend who took me by the arm.

"Your under arrest for possession and trafficking of marajuana.", Eliot said.

Under Eliot's friends arm was a starter pistol for me and I grabbed it.

"He's got my gun!" yelled his friend, and he was good he really yelled.

I turned low and shot Eliot twice as he was reaching for his gun and he fell with a thud right in the middle of my friends. The instant he hit the ground my friends jumped up to attention. This was great, it was working.

I spun again and shot Eliots friend who was running away. One shot to the head and he dramatically spun to the ground holding his head.

I faced my friends, put the gun down my pants and yelled "SPLIT!".

They did. I ran the other way and caught up with them around the block. They had slowed to a jog and were discussing that this didn't really happen, but they were still running in a group. It worked great! We went back to my place and puffed and laughed with Eliot and his friend.

Once I cooked falafel for dinner with Anne. Duke, dressed in a tux, served us dinner. He didn't say a word all night. Eliot, play dinner music on piano for us, also in a tux, and drove us to Maple Leaf Gardens

where I had us great seats to watch the Globetrotters. Eliot took the bus home and left his car for me to take home Anne. We kissed that night for the first time. I don't remember if she still had her boyfriend but she broke up with him soon.

The only other time I remember kissing was one afternoon Anne took me horseback riding and packed a picnic lunch. I loved this girl more than anything I knew before, so I left for Israel to Kibbutz.

KIBBUTZ

When I was 15 my religious school class had toured Isreal to meet our jewish roots. About 12 close friends and I had a blast of a summer! Jono was my closest friend. Together we had a great time and learned tons about Isreal that was really interesting, much I've still retained. Best education I'd had yet.

We spent two weeks working and living on Kibbutz G'vulot in the Sinai dessert near Be'er Sheva. Kibbutz G'vulot was a farming commune of about 100 people. It was completely organic and raised peanuts, potatoes, oranges, grapefruits, pomegranets, chickens and dairy cows. These also grew there own flower. It was bigger and more colourful than a thistle but generally the same shape and it grew nowhere on the earth other than in a back field at Kibbutz G'vulot.

Living there was great. Everyone did about 6 hours of work each morning 6 days a week. Meals were farm fresh, plentiful and served to you. You were given work clothes and alotted more when they wore. Just drop it off at the laundry and pick it up the next day or so. G'vulot had a pool with a 15 ft. high dive, tennis and basketball courts with night lights (it was too hot to play during the day). There was an indoor gym and a free store that you could drop by anytime and pick up cigarettes, booze, shampoo and stuff. The kitchen was never locked and have a steak anytime! These were great people to work for.

Every 6 weeks they sent us on a 3 day tour of Israel. I remember one trip we started in the north at the Leboneese border and visited caves there. From there we checked out a crusader palace, an enormous castle atop a moutain, and we finnished the day by floating down the Jordan river on intertubes to camp on the banks of the Galilee. when we were loaded on the Kibbutz bus all extra room was filled with beer. At one point some of my Brittish friends were leaving Kibbutz so a Japaneese friend(Seitchi(more affectionately known as Sage)) and I decided to turn an old abandonned building into a Brittish style pub. After work we fixed and cleaned this place up. We were building a bar when a kibbutz member found us out. He asked when we were doing this and we replyed after work.

"This is work." he pointend out and the next day building a pub was our jobs. They gave us a fridge and a stereo and money for albums and dartboards. They stocked the bar and helped keep the secret until it was finnished.

We all drank lots daily. One night Sage and I decided to go to Be'er Sheva for drinks for a change. We were waiting at the bus stop to town when a kibbutz member approached. He said he was going to town and could give us a ride. We followed him to the kibbutz office where a note told him he didn't need to go to town. He threw us car keys from a hook and we told him no thanks, we were going drinking. Going drinking, well he went into a drawer and gave us lots of money to spend. Again we said no thanks we were leaving the kibbutz we could pay our own way. He acted insulted and almost mad. He said "You work for us!" We took the money and went for dinner in Be'er Sheva's only Japaneese restaraunt. Sage was thrilled. As he explained to me the super strict table manners of Japan I made fun by picking my nose and scratching my armpits with my chopsticks. We laughed like crazy. We drank saki and drove home.

Remembering how the volunteers (those who weren't members of the kibbutz) got me drunk when I visited kibbutz with my temple group, I felt obliged to do the same for another visiting group of students. I got two bottles of "Wodka"(paint thinner I figure) from the store and some cherry powdered drink. Warning them how bad this stuff was I showed them how to shoot it back and chase it with the drink. I poured them all a glass of Wodka and one of juice. They all took one sip of the Wodka and stood around. This won't get you drunk I pointed out and said that I'll drink one after another until it's all gone. If they want some they better hurry. Next thing I remember is one of the kindest acts in my life. It has influenced me to take care of those in need especially those drunk and sick.

I spewed everywhere. Everywhere. The first 3 people around came to my rescue. Someone took off my clothes and took me to the shower. Someone took my clothes and sheets to the laundry. The third mopped my floor. When I got back from the shower my bed was freshly made and I was put to sleep. They left the hallway light on and told me that I should just look at it if the room should spin. Thanks guys!

One of my friends from my first visit to kibbutz was a guy named Avi. Avi was in the Army when I got back to kibbutz and I didn't see him until head had a weekend leave and came back to kibbutz. I was taking my turn serving Friday night dinner when he showed up. After dinner we partied together. He pulled out of his pocket about an ounce of beautiful red Lebaneese hash from his pocket. It wasn't wrapped in anything and enough fell on the floor to make a big joint. He broke off about half the chunk and gave it to me to show me that the bits weren't really worth paying attention to. We puffed and drank beer all night. Avi told me of how he hated the army and how massively serious it was. He told me about how statistics of numbers killed really affectted him. He cried when he said that it's just numbers, If he is killed wouldn't one less of someone else die. I wrote my first song about this.

Military stripes on infants socks They learn to march before they walk

And they will scream before they talk And they accept it cause it's all they know

O lord don't let them go

In my mind I see a one sided hill Children dying by political will

Wanting peice thinking death is the bill And they accept it cause it's all they know

O lord don't let them go

Kacky devil you breed them too young They grow up knowing that their time will come

To serve their people and maybe die among And they accept it cause it's all they know

O lord don't let them go

Now in the suit I see my face Hoping to live through this inhuman race

But if I do who will take my place And they accept but I pray that they don't know

My survival meant another child to go

A polish stone marks a rotting child They carpet the lands to an endless mile

They'll die more for the land of the resting juevenille And I'm their age and I'm petrified to know

O lord how could you let them go

O lord please let them grow

Benson was another army friend. He was big and mean! He had spent less time in army service than time spent in jail for beating up his superiors. Benson liked me though, and I was one of his few friends. When the army guys came back to kibbutz on leave for a weekend there was always a heavy waterpolo game, volunteers against the army guys. I was the only one who would cover Benson and he was so big the only way to cover him was to spend the whole game lying across his shoulders, my arms were wrapped around his left arm and my legs were wrapped around his right. He could and often did throw me off but I was just a fair handicap. He still played pretty well even with me on his back. One night Benson escaped army duty and came back to kibbutz unexpectantly and there was someone in bed with his girlfriend. He said hi to me as he passed on his way home. Someone else told me of the cheating predicament and I ran after him. I got there just after Benson and saw him pull a naked man out of bed by his neck and pin him to the wall, his feet never touching the ground. Benson whipped out and spun open a butterfly knife with his other hand and the point was on the cheaters neck in a second. I was very frightened, I had never seen Benson angry and knew he could be real bad. "Please don't do this Benson" I said quietly but straight to him.

In an angry voice he said "Get out Mike".

He actually sounded pretty level headed and I waited outside a good 50 yards away.

A minute later he came out spun his knife and put it away. He came to me laughing a little saying "I scared him good" I agreed. That was the last I heard of the incident.

Esther (pronounced Es-stare) was a beautiful french girl who grew up on kibbutz. The lead singer of Duran Duran, (something like Simon LeBon), spent time on this kibbutz and Esther was his girlfriend. My highschool french got me in and we hit it off well. We went back to her place that night and there was a big black snake on her porch blocking

the door. She put her hand on my chest and said the only english I've heard her speak, "Eets poisonous!".

While I was staring at it wondering what I should do Esther grabbed a hoe and walked up to the snake and chopped off his head. She grapped the rest of the snake and hung it over the rail real casual like it wasn't a decapatated, venomous creature of the underworld. I ran. I didn't stop to think about why but I figure it was like a divine sign saying "Keep your penis away from this woman!".

EGYPT

Mike and Jerry were two Brittish blokes who were thinking of leaving before we built the pub, now they were ready to leave again. They were going to Egypt first and invited me to come along. The moon was new and it was August. there was to be a spectacular meteor shower and the gulf of Aqaba offers snorkling apparently better than anywhere else in the world except the Great Barrier reef in Australia. We took a bus to the Egyptian border and walked across. On the Egyptian side we all had to change the equivaliant of about $40 by law. The bank was just a shack and we all got different exchange rates. In the bank an Egyptian cop was spinning his pistol on his finger and saying "A-ah! I'm a big man with a big gun.", he was acting like a little boy with a toy.

The bus cost us two Egyptian pounds each. A stretch Mercedes cab with a border patrol in the passengers seat stop and asked us where we were going. We told him, Dahab, and he said he'd take us for 6 pounds. We made sure that we had an understanding of 2 pounds each not 6 pounds each. Ya ya he said and opened the trunk for our bags. We put them in and he locked it.

We all chatted all the way and we stopped at Sharl-mal-sheque for some beers. After about half an hour we asked him when we were leaving. He said pay me now something like 20 pounds each. Needless to say we got angry and said just give us our bags and we'll catch the bus when it comes along. He said he'd give us our bags only after we pay him this ridiculous amount. We went to the border gaurd and said man what's up. He laughed and said "No speak english. A-Ha-Ha!"

The whole bar laughed at us. He spoke English fine all the way to the bar but now he was pretending not to. We were being screwed by the cab driver and this cop was his accomplice. We gave the driver the money we had and hopped on the bus that came by soon.

At Dahab we walked north about 3 miles and lay on the beach and snokled for an incredible week. We brought 3 snorkels and masks, 7 loaves of bread and water. We realized that it was going to be 50 degrees celcius and no trees or anything for shade so we brought a sheet each for shade. We realized that there were no trees for shade but didn't realize that we would have nothing to tie the sheets to. We wore them anyways. The first day snorkling we swam out across the reef. It must of been about 30 or 40 yards across. We swam for hours with fish bigger and uglier than us. There were so many fish and they were all different from each other. We stayed out too long. When we went back the tide had gone down and we had to walk in bare feet over the coral. Our feet were shred and we were often tumbled by waves but riding them got us out of there. We still swam every day but the salt water stung our cuts and we paid more attention to the tides.

It was also the perfect place to watch the meteor shower! Flat dessert on the ocean. No clouds, moonlight or city lights. The night

sky was fantatic! There were probably 20 shooting stars a minute, all night long!

Anne wrote to me every day for the whole 6 months that I was on kibbutz. It was great! I was the only one on kibbutz who got daily mail. Anne went to bible camp this summer and got too Jesusy. We never argued and rarely discussed religeous views they were our differences and that was always understood. Questions to better understand each other were fine and invited as long as they were asked for interest and not arguement. It was way over the line and out of charecter when Anne wrote in a letter " I would just freak out to be in the land of christ."

She knew I couldn't really handle the god shit and "freak out" was some silly disco phrase. I booked my ticket home out of concern.

GUNTHER BLANC

Before leaving Israel I spent about ten days in Jerusalem. I stayed in a hostel in the old city. It was an old arab womans's home. there were two bedrooms that were full of beds a communal kitchen and bathroom. There I met Gunter Blanc. Gunter (pronunced Goonta) was a german student of deaf people education and was just touring around. During the days I showed Gunter the neat things I had learned of Jerusalem on my first visit. We went to the wailing wall, the dome of the rock, Davids tower, Ezekiah's tunnel and lots more. I was able to be a very good tour guide. At night we went to the pubs. We would drink tonnes and come back to the hosyel drunk. We would climb up on the roof and play gitaur and sing Bob Dylan songs, in english and german, for hours. Gunter and I exchanged adresses and kept in touch for many years, I went back to Toronto.

BACK TO SCHOOL, BRIEFLY

By this time in life my parents and I were not communicating very well, dropping out of school and my admitted use of pot put me in bad standing with my folks but home was still home. I went home. I told them I was considering going back to school. They were probably very happy with this. Having been kicked out of one school and quitting the other my parents spent efforts looking for the best school for me. They found a private school called Metro Prepratory Academy. Metro Prep. was a private school with young teachers, small classes and adventure tours. Tours like cave dwelling in Arizona and sky diving for the good students. Sounded so good I said sure.

Anne apologized for the weird letter. She said that she had been infuenced by the bible camp but she's over that.

School didn't last very long for me. The teachers were young and arrogant. Talking down to me. None of my kibbutz friends, who I had lived and partied with for 6 months, were any younger than these teachers.

PART OF GROWING UP I GUESS

My parents went to Australia for two weeks where my dad was speaking at a chiropractic convention. I took their minivan and some friends

Chris and Todd and another friend, Jeff, from my street and friend through grades 1-6. We bought a B.B. gun. A 32 repeater pistol. We went to buy some acid. There wasn't anyone around the Roxy so we went to the alley behind the St. Charles bar where you could often find some. We asked the only guy there and he said all he had was Valium, 100 for $20. Sounded cheap. Someone once said, "On valium you just don't give a shit.". I hope that explains it. I would like to blame the valium for the things I did on them.

When we bought the valium Dave sat in the back seat behind me and he wanted to see the bag. None of us really trusted Dave and we all were suspicious that he pinched dope from us. There were some guys we didn't like to buy our dope from because it always seemed small. These were friends of Dave and only Dave could go to them and when he came back he always tried to convince us of what a good count it was. Now he wanted to see the valium. I passed back one and he insisted on seeing the whole bag. I gave it to him and he dissappear behind the seat. A moment later he came back up and handed me the bag and said something like "Neat.". Chris and Todd and a few girls came by that night and we ate valium and partied some. The girls, like us, had never seen valium before and asked us if we got it off Dave. Dave was giving out valium to girls at school that day. Weasel.

Later that night Dave came by and I took him out back and asked "Why did you take my stuff?"

He denied it and I punched him square in the nose. He fell back against the house and fell down under a window where the girls were watching. He got up and started leaving. I dropped kicked his back and jumped on him and punched his face a bunch until the girls pulled me off him. Dave's parents would always take pictures of Dave when he got beaten up to teach him a lesson, I guess. I made the album. Next day Chris, Todd, Jeff and I drove to my parents cottage and broke the door in. We ate valium, drank beer and did hot knives. We shot a million B.B.s at balloons, shaving cream cans, beer botlles and cans. That night I went to sleep and Chris and Todd chopped down a huge tree with a small axe. The tree fell on the power lines and started a fire. On the way back from the cottage the next day I drifted off the road into a couple of 4 foot wooden gaurd rails posts. Passing through one small town from somewhere a huge rock came smashing in the sliding door window. It was huge! It could have been really serious. We drove around looking for whoever did this but never found anyone. We didn't want to call the cops so we continued home.

Back in Toronto I took my friends/accomplices to my newly discover puffing spot near Metro Prep. It was a large culvert under train tracks that you have to swing down to get into. We puffed and explored the new urban cave a bit and went back to the van. As I drove out of the Metro Prep. parking lot I shot out a bunch of windows. I proceeded north and did a couple of other schools. Victoria Park high school had a fleet of board of education vans parked in a row. I drove down shooting at the windsheilds. One of the schools was George S. Henry. I went there the next day to see Anne and Ralph Ridgeway was standing there amongst the boarded up windows, "Gitelman, what do you know about these windows" he said.

"I knew about it before you.", I said and walked on to meet Anne.

The next day the cops were at my door. I denied that I did anything wrong and they left. They came back later and Dave had told on us and

Chris and Todd confessed. They told me I was under arrest and while they took me outside they pointed to the broken window on the van and said "Thats where you used the butt of the rifle (we had an pump air rifle) to break the window so that you could shoot better, huh. Thats what Todd said.". He was lying obviously. Fucking pig! Don't trust cops, lesson #1.

They took me in, finger printed me, took a long statement and let me go. The whole thing took only a couple of hours and most of it was the statement. I had to go to court in a couple of months and my parents got a lawyer. The lawyer said that it looked good on me if I went to see a psyciatrist. He said it would look as though I realized my mistakes and wanted to change. I had no problem with it.

THEY REALLY THINK I'M CRAZY

We made an appointment with one at Sick KId's Hospital. She wanted to see me and my parents. Me first. I brought my poetry books and showed her all the things I had written about god, death and girls. Without hiding anything, I told her what I was like the best I could in the alotted half hour. The next half hour she spoke alone with my parents. They called me back in and I sat down as she announced the verdict. Crazy. She reccommended that I be shipped off. In-patient therapy. My parents asked what I thought about that and I replied that it isn't the type of reccommondations I wanted to show in court.

We went for a second opinion to the head of the department. Same thing. Third opinion, Dr. Saul Levine, head of psyciatry at Sunnybrook Hospital, published author and the writer of an advice collomn in the Toronto Star. Anne liked his colomn. After my talk with him he told me that my problem is that I don't know the difference between right and wrong. I knew that if I said "You're wrong", he would say "See what I mean?". So I looked at all the degrees on his wall, the fact that my parents thought I was nuts and none of my other family said anything in deffence of my sanity, the only ones who thought I might be sane was me and my friends and look how much trouble we were in.

So I said "What if I were?"

He went to his filing cabinet and brought out a brocheure of this place in Israel that looked like a summer camp.

Summit institue in Jerusalem, he said, was for smart kids like me who just have some troubles fitting in. Yea, smart my ass, it sounded good. Court would drop punishment if I went there, my parents thought it was a good idea and we called the director in New York. He came to our home the next day and told us about the place. He mentioned finnishing school with courses like music and carpentary. He talked of training for trades, communal living and then the clincher, he said we have trouble with the abundance of hash in Israel. Sold. I knew that was true, damn good hash! He mentioned that the two year programme was completed by most who endured the first six months and asked me to make a commitment to stay at least that long. It sounded fishy but for my parents sake I said O.K

In court, everyone called the judge "Your Worshipness". This cracked me up. I really wanted to say it and later on he sneezed.

"God bless you Your Worshipness", I said as sincerely as I could fake it to be.

Court liked the idea of not having to take care of me and I was officially sent by them to the nut house in Israel. My probation order read that I was to go to Summit institute in jerusalem and if I return to Canada within the next to years I must alert my probation officer and

reschedule a new trail. I asked my probation officer if I had to stay at Summit. He read the order and concluded that I need only to go there and if I leave, just stay out of Canada.

CUCKOO'S NEST

I was on a plane to Israel. I was met at the airport by one of the staff and an inmate. We took a cab from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem where I was introduced to the other inmates (patients). Peter was the most likely to complete a conversation, but I don't recall it happening. He was brittish and wore a skullcap. He was petrified of dirt. He was always asking if there was dirt on his shoulder or back. He spent alot of the day brushing possibilities of dust from his clothes. There were two Stevens. One thought radio personalities were kings and he spent most of his time talking like one. The rest of his time he teased Peter saying that his clothes were dirty. This would send Peter asking everyone else if they saw anything. The other Steve was big and fat and ugly. He could barely speak and when he did it was about his ultimate sexual fantasy but usually he could be found playing with his fingers on the corner of a wall or table. There was someone, I think his name was Chris, who was totally afraid of people. He spent most of the time in a cupboard. Glenn was a New York kid who did too much of most things available. He couldn't complete a sentence and sniffed up any areosol can he could find. There were about 5 or six others all mostly nuts. Compared to these people I was sane.

Twice a week was individual therapy, twice a week was group therapy and once a week was men's or women's group. Those were the worst. At men's group the guys sat around and the room filled with psycotic laughter at the first mention of boobies or anything. The laughing went on for 15 minutes or more. You weren't allowed to leave and you were lucky to retain any sanity after sitting in all this crazyness.

Most patients were on valium (ironically enough) and slept all day while I refused to be drugged down. The whole place was a disgusting mess. Filthy filthy! There was shit all over the bathrooms regularily and the idiot roommates were so dirty that they had rashes all over from not of showering. Trade school was a joke. In the basement of an apartment I was told to sit with others and peel crayons for candle making. I called my paarents and tried to explain what a mistake this was and they weren't very understanding. They cried and I promised I'd try longer. I followed most rules for a while and in the situations that I didn't belong I tried to be helpful to others.

A month or so later I tried explaining again to my parents. They were even less sympathetic, now they seemed angry. I promised I'd stay 6 months. I'd try again.

MEETING ARI

I would go downtown and play gitaur for change and go to the bars after. One night I was playing Sedan Delivery, a fairly obscure Neil Young song, and this nice guy recognised it and sang along, danced and sincerely enjoyed my music.

"I got to party with you." he said and we knew that we were two people who knew and liked Sedan Delivery.

After I played I went to a bar and he was there with his friends and they invited me over. His name is Ari. He and his friends were all american rabbinical students.

"I've got 7 Neil Young albums on chrome cassette and a nakamichi stereo with gold wire and I have alot of hash. You've got to come by." he said

I agreed.

We became great friends and spent alot of time together, smoked alot of hash and laughed. Ari mentioned the Grateful Dead to me and played some for me. It didn't hit any bells for me like it does today. He taught me to play "Friend of the Devil" on gitaur. One night I missed curfew at Summit by a few minutes only. I often called if I was going to be late but not for just a few minutes. I was responsible about it. I was allowed to do what I wanted as long as I told there where I was going and attended a few groups a week. I had no plans of screwing this arrangement up. The attending staff was Aric. He was only part time and he was really becoming an ass about this. We had had friction before the this was going too far. We yelled a bit and he grabbed me to put me in my room and I punched him in the face and went on my own just to be safe. No doubt next day this was a big issue. They said that they were going to have to call my parents and maybe my parents would have to come and talk to me about participating more in the program. I hoped that my parents would come and see what they'd sent me too. I was being treated alongside imbiciles. I was in group therapy with people who couldn't complete sentences. When my parents saw these people I would be sprung.

They came. They stayed only a few days and came by only as pre-arranged by the staff. Each time they came to Summit everyone had gone out. They never go out! But these two days they went to a movie, a park and they played baseball (that would have been something to watch!). My parents never saw any of them. I told them strongley about what was going on but they wouldn't listen. I even snuck out to meet them at their hotel and tell them but they just cried until I said I'd stay. I began to understand it as myself, and the other fools here, are sent by our parents to be sedated overseas and out of their hair. Please send monthly progress reports saying that our kids are doing well. They left, I stayed.

Amazingly enough I wrote a somewhat hopeful song at Summit:

Little bird singing in the bough of a tree Enjoying the sun's orange crown

Little bird fly strait up to the sky But the tree is fastened down

The tree is fastened down

"Sky's the limit" I heard the little bird say As he left the tree to die

Who needs a tree when I got heavens above And away did the little bird fly

Far away did the little bird fly

Fly little bird climb away from us all You're a jewel in the crown

Follow the sun to the edge of the sky Just don't look around

Just don't look around

I still spent lots of time with Ari and little time at Summit. I had a beautiful young Israeli girfriend named Sigal.

One semi-functional girl in Summit had a boyfriend. His name was Gayla. He was Gruzini. Gayla the Gruzini was very jealous and when she broke up with him once he thought it was because she was sleeping with me which was not the case.

Gayla and a group of Gruzinis with guns chased me around downtown Jerusalem one night until I got away.

My 6 months ended and I called my parents and told them that I've decided to leave. This was not the right place or even remotely healthy for me. They asked me what I was going do. I told them that I plan to fuck around Europe until my 2 year probation ran out, there was a $75 boat from Haifa to Greece.

"Have a nice life." my father said and hung up the phone.

I went to the director of Summit, who I hadn't seen since he recruited me in Toronto, and told him that I had stayed my 6 months and I was leaving. He said that if I leave he'll write a letter to the Canadian courts and have me hospitalized, locked up. Being hospitalized is the overall threat for misbehaving imbiciles to be strapped to a bed and left to scream themselves to sleep behind padded walls. Do they use shock therapy in Israel? I never asked.

He was full of shit! If he thought I belonged hospitalized he wouldn't have me in Summit to start with. Since I came I had learned that psyciatric staff in Israel had a government set wage which was comparable to that of a McDonalds worker in North America and the program cost my parents $20,000. Now the diector was telling me, I took it as a threat, if I don't stay he'll send me somewhere worse. I told him I was certainly leaving, I was frightened to stay. Thee next day I was woken and the army took me to the airport and put me on a fight to Toronto.

EUROPE

Upon landing it Toronto, I was breeching my probation if I didn't call my probation officer. If I called him I might be picked up and hospitalized. I went to welfare and got a couple of bucks and hitch hiked to New Jersey were I hopped on a Peoples Express $99 flight to Brussels. I landed in Brussels with just $4 and headed for Amsterdam. I hitch hiked around for 6 months going through Holland, Luxembourge, Germany, Belgium, France, Austria, Switzerland, Monaco, Lichtenstien, and Italy. I became well travelled. I played my gitaur for change, hitch hiked around and called Ari collect from different countries. He would ask the operator were I was calling from and hang up. It was a pre-arranged code to keep track of my progress.

Lots of great things happened to me in Europe. Once, when I was heading south from Anasi in France, I was holding a sign reading "Nice". Someone stopped and said that he was going about halfway there and I hopped in. He didn't speak english at all and my french was poor but it just made, the usally mundane and often boring, communication fun to try. As he pulled of he communicated that he was headed to Grenoble that evening and I was welcome to go to his farm with him until then. We came to his far inside snow peaked Alps. We picked fresh peppers and onions ans fetched a few ducks eggs and he made us great omlettes. We drank homemade apple brandy and went horse-back riding in the mountains. That evening we went to Grenoble. His girlfriend was in a play, Death of a Salesman, in French. They took me to the play but I had a hard time following it. After the play, they took me to his girlfriends apartment in the middle of Grenoble. They gave me the keys and told me to help myself to the full fridge and leave the keys in the mailbox when I leave. In order not to break the trust I had no idea how I aquired, I slept on the floor, didn't even look in the fridge and left early.

Another time elsewhere in France, I was leaving a town after dark. A couple in a car stopped and asked if I was really Canadian referring to the flag on my knapsack and the fact that Americans have been using Canadian flags for disguise. I offered my passport but they believed me. They weren't leaving town but they said they would love for me to come over, seeing how well they were treated last summer when they visited Canada. They were coming back from a canoe trip down the Siene river when the wife got sick. The next morning she drove me and her husband back to the river and he and I spent two days finnishing the trip. She met us on the river at the pick up place and I helped put the canoe on the roof and pack the car. The car was pretty full and we said goodbye there I feel shitty that I can't even remember their names.

I met a young american guy in Paris. He was carrying a motorcycle helmet and he came to me and told me a story of being drugged at a bar in Italy then waking to find that much of his stuff had been stolen. Including alot of the things he bought with the visa card he stole from his parents. Spoiled kid ran away from home. He bought a motorcycle and expensive, top of the line, gear on the visa. The motorcycle and most of the gear, including the visa card, were stolen. He was still very frightened and I told him he could hitch with me for a bit. We headed north and went to pitch the tent he had (one of the few items left). It was the first I had ever seen of a dome tent and I thought it was great. He, on the other hand, was afraid to even go inside and he slept beside it. He was awkward and unsuited for this lifestyle so I talked him into calling his parents to go home. He left me his tent.

Lischtenstien is a tiny country with one town and its located between austria and Switzerland. I got a ride to town and I was walking out when I noticed the the highway was bllocked by massive herds of cattle coming down from the mountains for winter. I couldn't keep going and it might even be dangerous to stay where I was. I went to town ahead of the cows and the streets were lined with Lischtenstienians awaiting the cows. It was a day of celebration. I pulled out my gitaur and played for change. People were very friendly and I had a great time.

One day I was playing gitaur outside the train station in Munich. I was playing Friend of the Devil whensome hippy guy went dancing by. I thought he liked but music but I would later learn that the Grateful Dead had this effect on many people.

Two great lessons in Nice: An old man stopped and talked to me in . Later I saw him again and he gave me a historic tour of Nice and suggestions of the area. With so many travellers going through I asked why he talked to me.

He pointed to my small knap sack, "Less back here, more up here." now his index finger gently tapped my forehead.

Lesson number two was the next morning. I was sitting alone in a park playing gitaur to myself and a soldier sits down beside me. He pulled a spoon out of his pocket and got some water from the fountain beside our bench. I noticed him heating the spoon with a lighter and I got curious. I got up and asked what he was doing. I got up in time to see him suck the liquid through a cigarette filter with a syringe, tighten the tournekey around his bicep with his teeth and jab his arm pulling back on the syringe to see that he got a vein.

"H" he said. "I'm doing H, heroine."

By the time I saw the needle I had figured it was something like that.

"Don't ever do this" he said." I don't even get high. I only do this so that I don't feel like I'm going to die"

These lessons have stuck.

One day, somewhere in Germany, I was hitch hiking out of town and I had no rides all day. I said hello to another hitch hiker who walked by me and he had such a sincere smile that I almost felt bad that I didn't mention it before. I tried a few different places for hitching and later in the day he came walking by again. He had the same hard time getting out of this town. On top of a nearby bridge a train stopped aand I mentioned that it was the third train to pull up there and stop, it'll be there for about 10 minutes if it's like the other two. We climbed up the hill and between a couple of cars. His name was Rudolfo and he was from Mexico. We ended up at a train yard about 30 miles away. We jumped off and walk to our guess of the nearest town. A yard worker picked us up and took us to town. It was getting pretty late. I pitched my tent in a city park and we both went to sleep. In the morning we were woken by the children of the family across the park from us knocking on the tent. They had two cups of coffee for us. We thanked them and watched where they went home so we could return the cups. We put away the tents and thanked the kind neighbors. Rudolfo loved coffee. We travelled together for a couple of weeks and I bought a pot and coffee and always woke before Rudolfo and made a pot of coffee. He would wake when he smelt the coffee and inhale deep as close to the pot as he could reach his head out of the tent. As he exhaled he would breath out the words "Aah. Cafe!"

In Innsbrook I went on a hike. I knocked on a door and asked if I could leave my gitaur with and some things for a few days. They said sure and I wrote down the adress. Behind the Alpen Zoo was a trail leading up a mountain. I followed it all day and end up at the top before night. I started down the other side and camped the night along a river. In the morning I kept going downhill until I came upon a winding that followed the river. I followed the road all day and camped again. The next day the road took me to town and I bought a bit of groceries and some whiskey. Heading out of town to hitch hike back to Innsbrook I came a cross a sign saying "Welcome to Austria.". I guess I hiked to another country and I'm not sure which one, I figure it was Germany but I was happy that I didn't care and proud that it didn't matter. The next day I got back to Innsbrook and picked up my stuff.

Later I felt lonely and lost. I called my parents to bail me out. I did my best to sound really sorry and scared and they sent me a ticket home. I called Ari before leaving Europe and he was going back to L.A.. I said "Same continent, hope to see you soon."

L.A. SANTA CRUZ AND THE DEAD.

Toronto didn't last long. It was full of arguments and "I told you so"s and I was still scared of hospitalization. I didn't know if the director guy sent his letter or not but I did know that I was suppose to call the probation officer anyways and should of the last time I was back in Toronto.

I headed down to L.A. to see Ari. Ari had a '69 convertible Mustang, I think it was '69 but I forget. We drove up to Oakland to see our first Grateful Dead shows. Henry J. Kaiser Auditorium holds only about 9,000 people I think. We got there early in the day it was raining and people were playing frizbee near by. Blankets and ponchos spread out carried items of trade, jewellery, crystals and other pretty stones, sand candles, occasional tickets and clothes. Closer to show time there was a few people selling food, big fat veggie burritos, veggie chili, brownies and I remember a couple of people carrying pretty big boxes of bagels, (assorted), with cream cheese. Everything was cheap and went to a good cause, us. Every vehicle, lots of VW's, had the charecter of the journies that got them here. We asked one guy we met about getting acid and he pointed us to a guy he called Captain Trips (not Jerry). This guy sold us maybe 6 hits for probably $5 and we were used to paying $5 a hit in the cities and this was no ordinary acid either. It was blank blotters with a gell on top and a blob of gell in the middle of each hit. It was great!

In the afternoon someone announced that there were 300 tickets for sale at will call. We got our tickets and were going to our first shows! We went in when the doors opened. It was festive as a circus!

We walked all around enjoying the great people, Everyone danced their own dance without the restraints that come with judgement. What happened on stage was just a bunch of guys free-wheeling it to the many. Being among the crowd was like bathing in love. In the same way that it wouldn't be difficult to get into a fight at a heavy metal concert, it wasn't hard tofeel loved at a love-in. Thousands of happy people all around us felt wonderful. What more can I say about a Gateful Dead show? The only thing I can think of is "Hope you got to see them." It is'nt explainable how beautiful and free the whole experience is. Words can't explain these things.

After the show we partied with people all night long. We slept a little the next day in the mustang and played some frisbee and got tickets again from will call.

After the show we tried to drive to find a beach to camp on. The bay area is pretty confusing to newcomers at night and we drove until we ended up in Santa Cruz. We came across the lighthouse there and walked up to the ocean. In front of the lighthouse the waves roared into a round shape set back from the cliffy shoreline. The waves would explode at the end and shoot strait up. We spent time there often.

Santa Cruz was really a nice, friendly little beach town. We decided to stay there. I got a job at an antique shop refinnishing beautiful oak furniture and Ari worked in a restaraunt. We met Tony at the 24 hour coin laundry and went to his place to puff. He and his girlfriend, Nancy, lived in a line of 6 small cabins and his father was the landlord. There was one for rent and they let us pay weekly to start. Tony and Nancy worked the flea market selling used clothes. They had two big racks one of pants for $2 the other was shirts for $1, and they lived comfortably and ate well. All the cottages had nice people. We often had bar-b-ques and played board games together. We were all good friends and dropped in on each other casually. Whenever the Grateful Dead were around you'd hear about it and go.

One day I walked into the A&W, saw the HELP WANTED sign and 3 california blondes working behind the counter. My instincts, I guess, had me fill out an application and lie about my everything. I told them I had something like a B.A. in small restaraunt managment from Yukon U., go ahead call them. They hired me to flip burgers and make fries. The first day I brought home a girl who worked there and she was great, it's shitty of me not to remeber her name, she came over and stayed. Ari had gone back to L.A., and she moved in and it was a really relaxed relationship. Feeling so comfortable, I felt uncomfortable with the possibility of never wanting more and one day when waking up, taking a shower was a chore instead of a treat, I announced it was time I left, when hitch hiking the occasional shower is always treat.

My last night in town everone had plans so I suggested that I cook dinner and we make love all night. My girlfriend insisted that we go to the beach, so we did. We brought our guitars and bought some wine and headed down. At the beach instead of heading away from other campfires she went strait to someone else's fire. It seemed weird to me but I followed and when we got there all my Santa Cruz friends were there. They had made a banner that read HAPPY TRAILS MIKE. They presented me with a bottle of whiskey and we had a fine night of music and friends. I headed back to Toronto to introduce my friends to the Dead.

ROD, DAVE AND ERNIE

When I got back to Toronto I hopped on the city bus to go to my parents place, still figuring it was home. On the bus I saw Jono. I hadn't seen Jono for a while. I told him of my trip and he hands me a tape. He says last time we were together I gave him a Steely Dan tape.

"Take it, you'll really like it." he says.

It was Grateful Dead "What A Long Strange Trip It's Been"

I went to visit Ernie who was still friends with Dave and Dave spent alot of time with a friend and neighbor of his, Rodney.. Rodney has been and still is one of the best friends a person could have. Rod and I hit it off real well! After only a couple of days knowing each other we bought a kids rubber raft and a couple of hits of acid and we paddled down the Don river but there is probaly more industrial waste than actual river. Rod stepped in first ,and he's a pretty big guy, he put his foot in the middle of the raft and it folded in half aroun him. When we finally stopped laughung we figured it out and spent the day paddling from golf course to golf course. We were treated respectfully by the golfers who would warn us of rocks and fast water by waving their clubs around as pointers.

I got me a job at a burger shop filpping burgers and wiping tables, I got a basement apartment and my friends were over each Saturday and we would dose. We tried theme tripping. One day was hats, some times we walked, once we got alot of rolls of different colour electrical tape and we each made pictures on the walls. By the end of the night the pictures connected and we made a story connecting them all. Each night we would listen to "What A Long Strange Trip It's Been" over and over, I don't think anything else was ever played in that tape recorder.

One day we heard that the Grateful Dead were coming to Buffalo for the forth of July. Bob Dylan and Tom Petty were opening up for them. We bought our tickets and were all set to go. A couple of days before we were left for Buffalo, Gunther sent me a letter saying he was coming to Toronto arriving on the third of July. We picked him up at the airport and brought him to Ernie's place. Knowing he likes Dylan and would most likely love the dead, we got a ticket for him. He mentioned doubt about getting into the states without a proper visa. We gave him my brother's I.D. and told him to act deaf( he works with deaf kids and knew sign language). It worked and we were off to the first of many shows my friends would see.

The farmers fields around Rich Stadium all had signs that said "PARK HERE $20 ALL WEEKEND". We picked one and set up our small tents. It was an incredible time for everyone. The first night Justin, a friend of Ernie's, left his wallet right out front of the tents when he went into the show afterwards it was gone. It was probably a stupid thing to do with more than 100,000 people here most of who make a couple of bucks each show just to get to the next one. We were all saddened though, it didn't seem possibly that any of these fun loving people would steal.

Later someone came by and asked "Did you find your wallet?"

"No, someone stole it."replied Justin.

The guy said "Wow that really sucks. I saw it out in front of the tent and I was afraid somebody might steal it, so I put it under a sleeping bag in the tent."

Sure enough it was there. Our faith in the scene was restored.

YANKEE BEER

We drank many flats of beer. The american beer didn't work unless you were trying to pee alot and not get drunk. We really drank alot! We also peed alot.

TOUGH GUY

When we got back I went to Ernie's with Gunther. I helped him with suggestions of cross Canada travelling. He would go west and I was heading east, because I hadn't gone that way yet. I took my guitar and headed out. I played guitar for change in Montreal and Quebec city. Quebec city was really nice. It remined me of Europe making the rest of Canada look american. As I continued East the towns got smaller and I was in trouble if I was going to live off busking. I went to a restaraunt with a stack of 5 gallon vegetable oil pails out back and asked for a couple. I bought some dish soap and hitch hiked to a rest stop on the highway where I put up a sign that said "CAR WASH $1". I used a t-shirt for a rag and the rest stop had the water. This did well for me. Cars were usually waiting for the next wash. After making ten or fifteen bucks, I'd start asking drivers where they were headed. Free car wash for my ride and I was on my way again. Around Bathurst, New Brunswick, I noticed signs advertising a "tough guy" competition. They had two weight catagories, over 150 pounds and under. I had some boxing experience and there were to be only three, two minute, rounds. Three rounds is quick to get knocked out. I knew I could stay on my feet and as long as I returned all punches and threw a few extras, I could win, besides who could be tougher than someone who hitch hikes in the rain.

I called the guy in charge and arranged to help set up and take down the ring to make a few extra bucks. I hitched down to Halifax and played guitar for change. I bought a few groceries and headed back to Bathurst to train for a week. I spent my time camped on a beach and loosened up by shadow boxing many hours a day. I also stretched my shoulders, arms, neck, waist and ankles. The day came and I helped set up the ring and about 400 folding chairs were placed around it where the hockey ice used to be. At the weigh-in there were many 200-300 pound people so we let anyone under 170 pounds in the lightweight class. We had only eight people all together. They gave us 16 ounce gloves, big pillows. We were allowed to kick, punch or wrestle but things were mostly boxing. I had no mouthpiece so I used a piece of a bandana. I had no shorts so I cut off a pair of jeans.

I had no running shoes so I used bare feet. I had lots of hair and a beard and I must of looked funny to opponents but I did well. My first opponent was goofy. He started off throwing alot of wild punches I covered up for a few and then returned straight lefts and rights landing them all. I backed him up in the corner and threw a few more he roared angerly and loudly and wave his arms at me more. I covered more and had a hard time keeping him from resting while hugging me. The next round was similar except I threw more and he tired more. I got a couple of good body shots in near the end of the round and he was beat. Third round he came roaring and running at me right away. I battled a bit to get to the center of the ring and covered up as he used up the last of his energy. I backed him up into the corner again and did well at hitting him high and low. He threw very few and knew he was spent. He fell down and dramatically held his sides like he had a million broken ribs. I'm sure he was fine just dramatic. He was carried out of the ring on a stretcher then sat up and yelled at me. My next opponent was probably scared thanks to the dramatics of the first. The first round he seemed like he was feeling me out as I threw jabs and occassional combinations. Second round he was no more agressive and I incorporated the big glove block. I would throw a slow jab, hold it in front of his face for a minute and move it in time for my cross to surprise himm. I did it quite a few times and he never caught on. I won this fight by judgement.

The third fight was the final. Winner wins, loser places second. My opponent was a better boxer than me by quite a bit. I worked and worked but I couldn't get in. He was connecting alot mostly countering my failing attempts. I tried to throw him to the mat as three pins constituted a win as well. This worked once only and I got hit alot trying to do it again. I lost the fight by judgement and still won $120 and a plaque. I stayed to help take down the ring. The next show was nearby and I helped again set up and put away the ring. I had two black eyes and didn't figure that hitching would be very good like that so I didn't compete that time. My eyes had mostly heeled when I started to hitch back to Toronto.

There had recently been a double murder and rape of two young girls in Halifax. Something very new to Halifax. The police sketch of the guy on the front page of the paper showed a pencil drawing of a guy with curley hair and a beard. I was picked up by one guy while hitch hiking and we went for lunch after hours of travel. Our waitress called the police after we left thinking I looked like the drawing. Shortly down the road we were stopped by three police cars and taken to the station where I was photographed and finger printed. They also called my probation officer who relayed the message that I must get a hold of him when I'm back in Toronto. I was taken back to the highway and released. Later another car with a man, his wife and two kids (girls) stopped for me and at the next town he left the highway for gas. The gas station was closed and he pulled up and ran into the police station next door leaving me, who he thought was a murderer and a pedifile, alone in his car with his wife and kids. The police took me inside and I still had ink on my hand from the earlier fingerprints. They called the other cops and I was released again this time without a ride back to the highway and I camped before I got there. In the morning I went to the highway and made my way back to Toronto.

ARKANSAS

I stayed probably a couple of days in Toronto at Ernie's. Being back in Toronto I visited my parents and within 5 minutes we were about to argue so I just told them that I stopped by to say hi and see you next time. I hitched out west to B.C. and then south to California to see more shows.

After visiting with Ari, I hitched east through the desert and down to Baton Rouge and New Orleans. I played guitar along the way for change. Heading back north to Memphis and then west again, I was being rained upon. After hours of standing in the rain, on an onramp pretty much inside of the Memphis area, David Jacks picked me up.

David Jacks owned Southwest Fence in Little Rock, Arkansas. It was about a four hour drive and David talked alot about huge industrial ideas that seemed to make sense and he obviously knew more about it than me. He talked about the efficiencey of using the space in the middle of the 4 lane interstates to build a magnetic transport system. He took me to an old plantation home with lots of property on the Arkansas river. It was a huge building with a slaves quarters beside it. There were two enormous pecan trees in front of the house and a quarter section of watermelon fields. No one had lived there for many years and it was

very run down. He said that he needed to get some one to fix it up and I said that I would love to. He asked me what it would cost him and I said "Beer and cigarrettes." and I was hired. I helped take down the old plaster and put up drywall.

David gave me a truck to use and a gas card, which would also buy my cigarettes and beer. He took me to his office and I spent the night there. In the morning David was busy with the days jobs so I went out to the shop and cleaned up for a couple of hours until he had time to take me to the house. We loaded a truck with a compressor and the first air tools that I had used before and he took me to the house. He climbed the hydro pole outside the house and hot wired it with a fence tie wire. I spent many weeks hanging out, working all hours of the day, drinking while I worked until I was too drunk to use power tools and then I'd nap for a few hours get up and work and drink some more. There was lots to do and lots to drink. His son was Little Dave, but a big boy, so everyone just called him L.D. L.D. often visited me at the plantation home and brought a joint to smoke. He was a really nice guy. I helped David with a few fence jobs and around the yard often.

I was ready to leave once and I came back to town to say my good byes and a truck load of rolls of chain link fence came in. I helped unload by climbing up on top of the load and grabbing one side while someone else grabbed the other end of a roll and together we would pitch it of the truck. Two pairs of workers would grab ends of the rolls and scurry them off and stacked them in the right section of the yard. There were 200 rolls and only 50 stayed in the yard the rest went to a work site about 100 miles from Little Rock. It took the six of us about two hours to unload 50 rolls. David was going to the work site early the next morning so I slept in the office and asked David to wake me and give me a ride out of town. He woke me about 5 in the morning and as we drove I found out that David was going to unload the 150 rolls by himself. He was probably 50 years old and I said that I'd help him. He handled the rolls better than the 6 of us who dealt with it the day before. He would plunge his fingers into the middle of the roll and clean and jerk it to face level and then just toss it off the end of the truck. I picked up on this and we had it all unloaded in less than an hour. He brought me back to Little Rock and I stayed a couple of more weeks helping around the shop and on jobs. When I left David took me to the highway out of town heading west to California.

He stuffed $400 in my shirt pocket and we argued about it. I loved the time I spent there because money was no worry because I simply didn't need it. I worked and was taken care of for it. This money changed everything it might even be dangerous to hitch hike with $400. I accepted $40 and headed out. I stashed the $40 and played for change once I hit Oklahoma. I made quite a bit and headed to the poor section of town. I bought a couple of joints off of some guy and went to the coin laundry. I threw my clothes in and invited a guy who looked board to go for a puff. We laughed a bunch and finished our laundry and said good bye. I walked most of the night getting out of Oklahoma City and hitched on to the coast.

NEW YEARS IN OAKLAND

I saw Ari and he took me to his parents condo in Palm Springs and said that I should stay there at the plush condo. I knew I didn't fit in there and I wasn't looking for anything free I was much more enjoying working lots for small things to know that I really earned and deserved them. After a couple of great days in Palm Springs I went back to L.A. with Ari then headed north to Britsh columbia and then east back to Toronto. In Toronto I lived at Ernies and did a couple of weeks work at a temporary labour place. Dave and I bought one month greyhound bus passes each and planned on going to Grateful Dead New Years shows in Oakland. Greyhound gave us a book of blank tickets each that we could fill out ourselves. We made our first ticket out for San Fransisco. At the border the border gaurds gave us hard times because we were only carrying one way tickets so we filled out return ones and he let us in, idiot.

Bus passes are not a great way to see the country. You stop at the ugliest place in every city, the bus station. We had four hour waits in many major cities where you sit on your bag and stay there to protect it. I met some guy in the greyhound station in Chicago how said that he could get me some great "opiated-thai-stick", $20. Sure, I'd love to try "opiated-thai-stick" but I followed him all over downtown Chicago in the middle of the night and wouldn't give him any money until I saw it. He was getting tense and finally came out of a bar with a bag of something that looked like pot with black bits in it, the opium he said. I gave him the $20 and went back to the bus staion. We smoked lots of it and didn't get high, oh well we learned a valuable lesson, don't buy dope at bus stations. In Wyoming we met up with other dead heads and they gave us some acid we offered them the opiated-bunk telling them the story and we were sick of trying it so they took it. As we tripped that night on the bus we were entetained by the lights of passing cars and trucks. Then we pulled into Reno. Lights, lights, lights, flashing and moving, it was a great show.

We got to San Fran mid-afternoon a couple of days early for the show. We were hit upon by gays in the bus station and felt less safe than we did in Chicago. We took the next buss to Santa Cruz. It was great to be back. We went downtown and bought some nice buds and went to the park to smoke a joint. When we got there and began rolling I remembered the quality of pot here. Unlike anywhere else Ihad been these sticky buds needed scissors. Dave didn't believe me and we tried anyways. When we realised that we were only wasting pot I sugested that we go smoke with Tony and Nancy. We went there and puffed and laughed Dave was pretty quiet and finally begged me to get him out of there. We got a hotel room. The next day we took a bus to Oakland and pitched a tent among the others in the park beside Henry J. Kaiser auditorium and began our search for tickets. No problem finding tickets everyone thought that coming all the way from Toronto we actually deserved tickets(more than others?). We had a great time but Dave asked me to babysit him so that he wouldn't be unfaithful to his girlfriend, Christine , in Toronto. This seemed to be his permission to try anyways and when he and a girl went into the tent I pointed out that it was no longer my responsibility. Dave had to be back in Toronto for school in the first few days of January and we had seen the first 3 night's shows so we hopped on greyhound, heading home, on December 31rst. At 11:30 p.m. we crossed a time line and it was 12:30 a.m. January 1rst. Not only did we miss the New Years show we also missed New Years. We begged the bus driver to turn around and of course he wouldn't.

STILL GROWING UP I GUESS

We got back to Toronto and I got a job at a fast food place. One day I found a visa card on the floor and I put it in my pocket. Not knowing any better, I bought a Fender Stratacaster and the biggest amp I could carry. Dave also wanted a digital delay. My parents found the visa slip and told me that I could either return them or my parents would call the police. I asked for a night to think about it and I took the guitar and amp and my parent's minivan and drove out of town. I stopped at Sault Ste. Marie and rented a basement apartment. I got a job at an A&W and when myy first paycheck came I had enough money for travel or rent and I chose travel. I headed back to Toronto and was pulled over by cops on the way. They took me out of the car with their guns pointed at me. They handcuffed me behind my back and put me in their car and took me to the Thessalon R.C.M.P. station. In the back of their car I executed a James T. Kirk move. Laying on my back I Brought my feet through the handcuffs and they were now infront of me. They finger printed me and put me in a holding cell and left the room throwing the cell keys on the desk across the room from my cell. T.V. was really a great help. First my Star Trek move now a Brady Bunch lesson, I tied my shoe laces together and swung my shoe on to the desk. I knocked the keys onto the floor my first try and a couple more brought me the keys. Realizing that escape wouldn't be easy I opened the door, put the keys back on the desk and went into the front office and asked if I could bring my guitar into the cell with me. They were kind of shocked but didn't say anything, they gave me my guitar and locked me in again hanging up the keys this time. Later they took me to Sault Ste. Marie's maximum security prison. I was locked in a cell with 7 native Indians for days until the same cops who arrested me came and took me to court one day. There weren't many people in court and when they called my name the crown attourney told the judge that he had already talked to my parents and they had told him that I needed to be psyciatrically evaluated. Judge slams the hammer and I was to go back to jail until there was room for me at the Clark Institute for me.

THE CLARK

The cops took me back to Sault Ste. Marie and were amazed by my trial. I was legally an adult and I never said a word in court, they never asked me a thing. This desicion was in the hands of my parents. I was held in jail for about 10 days before the same cops came and picked me up for the 8 hour drive to Toronto.

At the Clark, I was checked in and locked in a room and handed me many pages of psyciatric tests. There was one test that had over 700 questions. I was to read each question and fill in the right balloon number 1 to 5, 1 meaning "I strongly agree" and 5 meaning "I strongly disagree". The questions asked if I hear voices telling me what to do, if I see animals in my bedroom at night, if I talk to dead people and so on and on and on. I had come to the conclusion that I don't know if I was crazy or not but even if I was it wasn't anything bad. I could live happily, function well and be no danger to anyone, Everyone I met on my travels ,lots of great people, seemed to like me, many even said nice things. I made a nice pattern on the answer sheets and went to sleep. At supper there was an open window where we were served and were given only pastic spoons to eat with. I was told of the three doctors I would see the next few days and other tests upcoming. I sat around watching T.V. with about 5 or 6 other inmates, patients, lunatics, victims, who knows? I sat quietly. The next day I saw my first doctor who I informed that I wasn't crazy.

She said "Of couse your'e not.", and she raised a bunch of inkblots for me to up with halucinations for, and she took notes. She handed me the 700 questions test and asked me to do it again and again I did it randomly. I had another meeting with someone else after lunch and told her that I wasn't crazy and in the same condisending tone she also said "Of course your'e not" like she was patting a little kid on the head

feeding him a treat for being nice. She asked me routine questions and gave me more standard tests. There was nothing personal about these tests. No one asked how I felt or what I thought, it was all elementary questions set up by some board of definitions somewhere.

This was nuts and I began to think that I'd rather be in jail but there weren't anymore doctor sessions and it became easy to just sit around. After a week I was sitting watching a Billy the Kid movie with Bob Dylan in it, when curfew was announced. There was only a half hour of the movie left aand I asked permission to watch the end. The orderly just ignored me and walked right up to the T.V. and turned it off. Fuck this I felt and I turned the T.V. on and grabbed the remote. We volleyed it on and off a few times and then she walked off. I sat and watched uneasily and there was an announcement "All male staff to the fourth floor". They came. About 12 male orderlies, janitors and security males overflowed the small office discussing a game plan, the movie was almost over and Dylan was singing "Knocking on Heavens Door". When they came up to me I tried to explain that the movie was almost over and I only wanted see the end, not really an all-male-staff sort of situation. They kind of looked at each other, no one had considered speaking, they came forward plucked me out of my chair, threw me on the floor and stuck a needle in my ass. They sat on me for a minute and put me to bed. I bet they forgot to turn off the T.V.. I was picked up the next day by the same two R.C.M.P. who probably loved these paid vacations to the big city, I was taken back to Sault Ste. Marie. Could be ten days later the same cops were at the jail and saw me. "What are you still doing here?" they asked.

I didn't know. They were the ones that put me there. The next day they picked me up and took me to another county's judge. My parents had reported the car stolen and when I was found they dropped the charges, no one seemed to know about the guitar and I was being charged with possession of an empty vile of hash oil I had on me when arrested. The cops acted as my lawyers and told the judge that I had done three weeks dead time. The judge told the cops to drive me to the edge of town and let me go. I told the cops that it may have been easier if they had just left me alone.

BIG BUCKS IN THE FAMILY

I headed back to Toronto where I stayed with Ernie. Ernie got me a job with him delivering building supplies to small jobs sites. Ernie came to Toronto two years earlier. He was living with his mother in New Brunswick when he decided to move in with his father who was an agent for strippers. Not a bad move on Ernies part. We spent lots of time at Ernies meeting his dads clientelle. After two years Ernie came home from school and told his father that he quit. His father said great and called his work and quit also. He told Ernie that it was now his turn to support his father for two years. After two years his father moved out and left most of the furniture for Ernie. I admire the lesson and we all helped Ernie get rent together.

Rodney inheiritted $22,000 and Dave won $10,000 in an instant win lottery ticket. Dave's father owned a corner store and Dave was proud of how much he stole from his father including the winning ticket. I wasn't comfortable with my friends fortunes. We tried coke, being rich, and used it often. On my pay day I bought a gram of coke and went for dinner before seeing my friends that night. I felt like doing half the coke and then felt ashamed. That night I cut up the lines for every one else and sneakily didn't do any myself to teach myself a lesson. One night the guy we bought our coke from, he and his girlfriend were really nice people, invited us to a party at his place. As people arrived every one went to buy their evening supply of the dealer first, then they found a safe spot to cut up their lines and gaurd them. When they were finnishing, they would look around to see who had more and go sit with their friends whos finest quality was that they had some blow left. Dave fit this personality well. He would slime anything off of anyone and feel no remorse or embarassment, he would probably be proud. The party pointed out what a groos drug coke was. People hiding in corners hoarding blow and sliming up to friends only to get more compared to sitting together sharing a joint. This was about the last time we did coke.

OUR V.W. VAN

Rodney had bought himelf a fast car and a V.W. van for all of us to enjoy. Since Rod had his car and I hadn't plans of sticking around, the van was put in Dave's name and he was to pay for the insurance although his parents were the ones who did. We went on many weekend trips together in the van. Our most memorable trip was to Eugenia Falls. Eugenia falls was near my parents cottage. It is a 100 foot waterfall in the middle of a big half cirlce of cliff. Ernie, Dave, Rod and Rod and Dave's girlfriends, Chris and Sue, and I hopped in the van and headed north. I was the driver. We all took acid and were all startled when we passed a truck on the small highway and his wind blew the camper top right off the van. We pulled over, picked it up and tied it back on top of the van. We were calm and organized as if it had happened many times and we knew just what to do. We got to the falls and crossed the river and climbed down a cliff to the bottom. We formed a chain down the cliff and passed down 3 cases of beer (in Ontario a case is 24). We spent the afternoon drinking beer, swimming, hiking and just having a great time relaxing in the privacy of the seclusion. We climbed back up before night fall and drove back to Toronto.

BUSTED MY FOOT

I hitched around a bit and came back to Toronto later. I got a job on a farm near my parents cottage. They raised trees and flowers for sale at their nursery in Meaford. I liked the people very much and had a great time with them however one day at the nursery I was unloading a skid of fertilizer and the big outdoor forklift started rolling forward. I pushed the large wheels holding the forklift still saving my pile of fertilizer. I reached for a rock to put in front of the wheel and to reach it I left my foot in front to hold the wheel still. This was dumb, the huge forklift paid no attention to my foot. It ran over it and stopped on top. In shock, I dove away from the scene and yanked my foot out from under. It was crushed and my leg was in rough shape from the tug of getting my foot out. My shoe had turned and looking at my foot things looked drastic. John, the farmer, came to me and I told him to cut off my shoe. He cut the laces and my shoe popped off. An ambulance came soon and I was taken to the hospital. The doctor on call had his own office and he couldn't come to the hospital until after 5 o'clock. I was left in the care of the nurse who couldn't give me anything for the pain until the doctor showed up. She decided that she should wash this dirty foot in fact the forklift had not only crushed my foot but it also made it pretty dirty. She tried to scrub it clean much to the objection of my other foot. My other foot won and she left me alone.

I called my parents at the cottage and they came and picked me up and took me back with them to the cottage. That night they were having a party of friends. These friends, mostly jewish and mostly doctors of

different sorts, all took a look at my foot and told me I would be fine. One guest, a dentist, lifted the ice pack off of my elevated foot and squished it back down saying that all that was wrong with this football sized foot, black and blue, was that the ice pack hadn't been squished down visciously enough. He squished it hard and I jumped and grabbed him from reaction to the immense pain he had cause. "My teeth are fine!" I yelled at him and let him go.

When we got back to Toronto my father X-rayed my foot. My father said that nothing was broken and I would be back up and on it in a week maximum. The next day I took a stick for a cane and hopped on a bus to the hospital. At the hospital they took an X-ray and showed me the breaks. They said that my foot was still too swollen for a cast and I should keep it up with ice on it and come back in two weeks. They gave me crutches and I went home. When my father saw the crutches he was angry. He asked me where they came from and I told him that I went to the hospital. "I'm a doctor!" he said to me mad that I wanted a second opinion. He was really mad at me. I called Rodney and waited outside for him to pick me up. He took me to Ernie's where I was pampered and taken good care of. After two weeks I went back to the hospital. The doctor asked what I wanted and I reminded him that he told me to come back for a cast. He said that me foot was still too swollen and I was to ice and raise it again. I told him that the Grateful Dead were coming to Toronto in a week and I will certainly need a cast for that. He agreed and told me to come back in a week. I did as he said and a week later I went back. Again he didn't remember me and then after looking at my chart he said "Oh, you're the boy who got run over with a forklift. Let's see how you're walking."

Walking?! This guy has told me to sit on my ass for the past five weeks. I told him this and he said nonsense I should be walking. I handed him the crutches and walked out really sore. The next night was the Dead at Canada's Wonderland.

THE DEAD DO WONDERLAND

Wonderland is Canada's theme park similar to Disneyland except the charecters are the Flintstones and Yogi. It has never looked better than the day 20,000 tie-dyed freaks filled the park dosed, dazed and delighted. For many friends this was to be their first show. Steve Glickman and Pablo are the ones who I will speak of again in this book. Pablo has become a third amigo. Rod , Pablo and I are my dearest friends since then and for the rest of my life I can have no greater goal than being as loved by them as I have been.

My foot was still swollen and my leg was bruised all the way up to the top. My friends took care of me and I danced the whole show with an arm over the shoulder of a friend on each side. After the show we spent the night awake watching the stars and morning fog in a golf course near by with big old willow trees.

ERNIE TRIPS FAR

The next day Ernie told us of his troubles the night before. Ernie got very stoned and overwhelmed. He left the show early and took a bus back to Toronto. He tried to walk home from the bus station and stopped a couple of times to explore. He saw someone playing on a computer and felt a kinship. He walked in and left soon after realizing that he really shouldn't be there. They called the police. Ernie went to an ice-cream shop near by and noticed a woman with a brightly colored dress on. The dress had a large lapel on one side and it was a different colour. Ernie walked up and lifted it to check the color of the underside. The police arrived and the lady believed she was being sexually assaulted by Ernie. They took him away and he explained that he was really stoned. They kept him overnight and let him go to later appear in court.

The sexual assault lady dropped the charges after finding out the truth but the house with the computer was charging Ernie with breaking and entry. I recognised the adress.

The woman who lived there once read her daughters diary and was so shocked to find so many people named as lovers and drug users and sellers that she called the police and parents of some of the kids. She was considered a hero by other parents but the daughter was considered a severe danger by her friends and she was being hunted and threatened by those arrested for selling her hash. About 10 housewives, who probably all had maids and nothing better to do, started an organization called Parents Against Drugs. My mother was an active member and lead the cross-Canada organization for a few years. She had dinner with Nancy Reagan once to discuss how rotten kids of today are. My mother thought it was really lousy of me to be using drugs, son of a woman in her position who chows with born-again Nancy. I had told my parents about my drug use before P.A.D. was ever originated, I suggested that my mom was just being rebellious. I think that Ernie was given community hours.

KOSHER EXPRESS

I figured that if I could dance all night at a Dead show I could work. At the employment office the job board had a listing for kitchen help at a kosher catering company. I went and applied and was hired to sit on a stool and dress hamburgers. The boss asked if I minded working weekends and I said that occassionally was fine but I'd rather my weekends free. He asked what for and I simply replied partying with my friends and thought nothing of it. A couple of days later at closing he asked what I meant by party. He seemed to be pushing to hear the word puff so I told him. He asked if I'd like to smoke some hash with him. He pulled out a coin with a small piece of hash on it and asked if I could roll. I gave him back his hash and pulled out the half ounce I had picked up that day that I was splitting with a friend. He was amazed. He said he had never seen so much hash and asked if I always have that much on me. I explained that I usually have some and with that he asked me to be his manager and offered me a decent salary. I came in every day for opening and stayed until closing. I threw away my cane, it only got in the way.

One day an envelope came to me with a bunch of cheques from workmans compensation. The hospital and John the farmer filled out the paperwork and I never expected anything but here was a few thousand dollars. I called them to say thanks for all the money and that's plenty, I won't need anymore, I'm working now.

"Oh,", they said, "when did you start working."

I knew what was up. They had just sent me all of this money and now they wanted to take it away because I did the honest thing and told them I was working. "Just started." I said. They asked me how much I was making and I reluctantly told them. They said that they would pay me the difference between my last job and my new one.

I said "Look, I'll keep the wad of cash you just sent me and you don't have to send me more."

They still wanted to make up the difference between jobs and I said no and good bye.

PARDON ME

I decided to talk to my probation officer knowing that he would've finished his job on my case, and I'm probably a black mark on his record, if I gave him money. If I told him that I wanted to pay my debt he would have to want to see me. I called. I asked him how much I owed and he told me. He also told me that there were warrants for my arrest. I told him that I would pay the whole thing if he would cancel the arrants and end my probation. He said O.K. and we made a time first thing the next day. I went a half hour early to see if cops were going to show up. Coast was clear. I went up to his office on time, he was late and I got nervous. When he came I told him that he just about lost me again. He told me to relax and asked if I had brought the cheque. I showed him the bank note made out to the courts that I got in case I wanted to cancel it. We sat down. He pulled out my file and told me the amount again, checked the cheque and wrote down the numbers. He filled out that I signed and as he slipped the cheque in his top drawer he acted as though he had just noticed something new on my file. Pointing to it he said that my probation doesn't end for another year. He said that when we made the deal he thought that my probation was over this year. Nothing he could do about it he said.

I pointed the cane at him and told him that he blew it and I would cancel the cheque. He pleaded for me to do the right thing. He said that we could both write a letter to the judge saying that I was a better person now and ask for a pardon. He said that he had only done 7 before but they all went through. I gambled and wrote a really good letter and brought it to him the next day. We had agreed that I get to see his letter and mail it myself and I did. About 3 weeks later I got my pardon in the mail.

ANNE GOES TO EUROPE

I had been in touch with Anne and I often saw her when I was in Toronto. After she finnished high school, She decided to work half of the year and travel the rest. She wanted to start in Israel and visit europe next. I helped her plan her trip. I wtoe down friends names and adresses, must see places and I wrote many pages as a walking tour of Jerusalem for her. I was hoping that she would ask me to join her but she was travelling with a girlfriend from school.

Some where along the way I wrote her this song:

Breath a day be it dope or just air

See a way it'll never be there

Hear them say, hear them say fair

With me sing the dance of the child

Ease the sting with the soul of your smile

Let them ring, let them ring wild

v

C As I live, I cry

H As I breathe, I die

O Tell me who's going where

R

O As I stand in the sky

U In the earth I will lie

S Tell me who's staying how

^ Please tell me why

Believe in you look at al we've done

Sky so blue when we feel as one

Shining on, shining through sun

And you know that we needn't be

Fast or slow time will stop for me

Let us grow, let us grow free

>chorous<

Never fear it'll leave us alone

Shed a tear for the glory we'll own

Hold me near, never be alone

>chorous<

KENJI, CHOCLATE MUSHROOM PUCKS AND HAPPY SONG

There were three jamaican guys working at the kosher restataunt and they were very nice, kind people. There were also two japanese guys who had spent three years in university in Japan and before finishing the last year, they took a year off to travel in Canada. They were also very nice. Neither of them spoke english very well at all but we all got along well. "Touch of Gray" was just released on album and it hit the charts big time! It was often heard on the radio and when it came on at work I would tell every one that this was the Dead the band that I always spooke so much about. Kenji, one of the japanese workers, told me that we should go out for a beer sometime. I said sure and we made a date many weeks away. When the day came I had forgotten and after work Kenji said "We go out tonight Mike?" I explained that I forgot and had plans to go to Rod's place, his parents were out of town, I invited Kenji along. We stopped at the beer store and picked up 3 cases of beer. On the way to Rod's I asked Kenji if he had ever puffed. "One time Mike." he said. I asked what he thought of it and he replied "It hurt my throat." I explained that we puffed and hoped that it was O.K. with him. He said no problem. At Rod's we drank and smoked and had a good time. One friend came by with chocolate hockey pucks each containing a few grams of mushrooms. I bought one for myself and one for Kenji. I tried my best to explain to Kenji what mushrooms did but that wasn't easy. I settled for explaining that they were very strong, eat a little and wait, if you like it eat more. I gave it too him and when I turned around he had finnished the whole thing and was licking his fingers. "Very good Mike" he said and that was about the last thing he said for hours. He sat quietly smiling on the couch. I went over to check on him and asked if he was alright.

"Yes, yes. Very good Mike but no english now please."

I smiled and and said O.K. and walked away.

He said "Play happy song Mike" I didn't know what he meant and he sang the notes of "Touch of Gray". We put on a Dead tape and let him be. After many hours of sitting still playing euchre at the table, I felt really stoned. It was overpowering and I didn't feel good at all. I figured no wonder, I'd been sitting in the same spot for hours and the mushrooms wanted me to be active. I got up and told my friends that I needed to go for a walk and I rushed outside. I only made it about 50 feet when I leaned up against a tree and blacked out. The next thing I knew, I was being carried back inside between two friends. I figured that if I could figure I could walk. I went strait to the bathroom and sat on the john for what I've been told was a very long time. All I know is that I had a super duper shit. I felt so much better. Not only did I feel better, I felt great! One of the greatest shits of my life!

One day Kenji came to me and showed me his pay cheque telling me something was wrong. I didn't know who got paid what and I told him to talk to Joe, the boss. He said that he had and so I went with him. Joe took the cheque and said to me "Watch this" and he talked quickly and said to Kenji right in his face "The great things about these guys is you can pay them what you want and they can't even figure out what you're sayIng _when you talk like this. Right Kenji?" Poor Kenji didn't understand and he just looked over at me.

I was appaulled! These guys were good workers and nice people. I asked how long this had been going on and Joe said from their beginning. I told him that if he didn't fix it I'd quit. He didn't, I did. When everyone asked me why I quit I told them and most of the others quit too. Kenji came by the V.W. van later and brought some saki. We warmed it up in a pot on our Coleman stove and drank it. It tasted like vomit but I didn't want to offend Kenji, Rod said the same thing later. We got Kenji a job on the farm that I broke my foot and we drove him up there. He had a great time there and for many years Kenji sent them christmas and birthday cards.

HARRASSMENT

Rod and I were fixing the van's recently broken suspension in the underground parking lot at Dave's place. A private parking lot where we rented a spot. Cops drove in. They came right to us and asked what we were doing. We told them and even offered to show them, the van was still jacked up. We had beer with us but we were all of age, this was a private place and we obviously weren't driving. They looked around, real nosey, and asked rude and suspicous questions. We were polite, full of our "Yes Sirs and No Sirs". When they asked me if I had ever been in trouble with the law, I told them proudly that I had been pardoned.

They ran my name and they told me that I was lying. I told them that their computer must be wrong, I was pardonned 3 months ago. The both got out, picked me up, threw me in the back seat and slammed the door. They floored it and peeled ahead to the end of the lot, a brick wall, and slammed on the breaks. The driver, bad cop, started shouting and swearing at me, yelling that I better tell him the truth and admit my lies or go to jail. His partner, good cop, said things like "Just tell us the truth Mike, we'll let you go". This went on for a half hour until I swore. Bad cop had swore alot of me and I finally said "This is bullshit.". They both looked at me deadly mean. Bad cop put the car into reverse and peeled all the way back to my friends. They got out and told my friends that I had a big mouth and if I just shut up that they'll let me go. They opened the door and said that my friends had something to say to me. They told me to be quiet and I tried to explain. Rod said "Please Mike, just shut up." Rod had never told me to shut up and I did. They said "See that was easy.", then they warned me that they were going to find the truth out and come back for me.

The next day I went to the police station with my pardon slip and said that I wanted to file a complaint. The cop at the counter went and got some one else who told me that there's so much paaperwork involved in filing a complaint just tell him my trouble and everything would be O.K.. I told him what had happened and showed him my pardon. He said no problem and he runs my name in the computer and shows me that the screne says that I was given two years probation and the date of it. I showed him my pardon again and said "Change it, take it off or I would file the complaint.", and what about the two cops the night before. They spent at least 45 minutes with us, don't they have to say what they were doing and who they were harrassing. They yelled out the window when they left "We'll find out the truth."

What's going down?! I was pretty upset.

He told me to wait a minute and he'd get to the bottom of this or at least make up a good excuse. He came back a couple of minues later with an empty file folder and said "Here's the problem. Your probation officer didn't send in his copy of the pardon."

I said "Here's my copy. Please change the record."

He said it can't be done that way.

I called my probation officer (ex-probation officer!) and told him about what happened and could he please send in his copy so this won't happen again."

"Fuck you! I'm through with you!" he said and hung up the phone.

What's coming down?! Should I run now?

I called the head of probation of Ontario and tod a seemingly understanding woman what had gone on in the past few days. She told me that she would take care of it and call me back. I waited by the phone until 5 and I called her back. She was gone. I called the next morning and she yelled at me that my probation officer was very nice to me and I should be grateful that I'm not in jail. I went back to the cop station. I smoked a joint on the way to take it easy. The brightness of the sun made inside the station look dark. The ceramic tile and glass foyer was empty except for a cheap AM/FM cassette stereo on the couter. Riders on the Storm was playing and I felt really stoned. The same cop and the desk clerk came out and the cop noticed me, said hi and asked the other, for my benifit of course, "Did something come in for this young man today?"

I told him what had happened, he was very nice to me the day before, and I handed him my copy of the pardon and said please fix this. He sat down at the computer for a minute and told me that everything was fixed. I didn't believe him and asked him to show me. He said "This computer is police property. Only police can see it." I pointed out that he showed it to me the day before and he got up and roared at me.

"Do you realize who your talking to?! I can have you thrown in jail!", he kept screaming at me and I turned and ran full speed out of there. I hitchiked out of town and stayed in the states until my probation actually ended.

SPLIT

I hitched across to B.C. and down to California. I saw some shows and visited Toni, Nancy and Ari and headed across to Arkansas. In Amarillo, Texas I was picked up by an army guy on a 3 day leave heading home to Nashville. Little Rock was probably 10 hours away and Nashville was another 6 or 7 and this guy was visiting both his family and girlfriend. I suggested that he get some rest and I'll drive to Little Rock. He said maybe later. He didn't ask me to drive until we were only a couple of hours away from Little Rock. He slept and I drove. It was nice of him to pick me up and I felt sorry for the little amount of time he had to visit plus I was in no hurry so I kept driving and I woke him on the outskirts of Nashville. He was very thankful and I was pleased.

I hitched back to Little Rock and spent a few weeks working for David who's business was really growing. He asked me to stay and be his estimator. He offered me a house, a truck and a very decent salary but I declined and he understood. I lived with L.D. and his room mate, Marty, in his trailer in the back of David's yard. We all drank and puffed a bunch. When I left I hitched west and I had one really down day. I hadn't had a ride for many hours and I didn't feel like standing there anymore. So I wandered off and sat by a river and played guitar for a short while. I went for a swim and a hike but still I felt like I wasn't happy. I went back to the road and got a ride. The driver smoked me a joint and I felt a million times better and it was obvious that the pot did it. After he dropped me off I camped for the night and the next day I went through the same lousy feeling until someone stopped and smoked me up later that day. I became concerned, this felt like dependancy. I hitched back to Little Rock, puffed with my friends there and left town again feeling way better. Then I was no longer stoned and started even feeling lonely.

SURE MAYBE I'M NUTS

I called my parents knowing that they would be happy to hear that I was considering stopping puffing. My mom, being head of Parents Against Drugs, might know more about this than me. They were thrilled but they thought that I would need drug counselling to quit. I assured them that it wasn't nessecary but they insisted. I agreed to talk to a counsellor to see what he says and take it from there. I hitched back to Toronto where the meeting had already been set up. I was taken to a office where I was to talk to three different counsellors. Each counsellor asked me the same questions and filled in the blanks on the questionaire. Questions like how often to you smoke pot, how often do you do coke, how about drink, have you missed a day of work be cause of your use and many other very general questions. How often do you smoke pot? When ever I can wasn't a good enough answer, neither was sometimes more than others depending on cash flow and company. They wanted numbers. Numbers filled in all the blanks. I put up with it and when the questionnaire was finnished she told me to wait in the waiting room for the next counsellor. I told her that the questionnaire wasn't an accurate way to describe me or my use. What about why do I smoke pot, what do I feel about cocaine use, do I think that I need counselling. She said that those questions will be asked later, her job is just to fill in the blanks. The other two counsellors were exactly the same. We went home. I told my mom about the sessions and she got very defensive telling me that these people are experts. I said we'll see what they say. The next day they said that I needed to go into the 2 week program. I said bullshit but my parents threw a fit and I agreed. Then the experts changed their mind and said I needed the full 2 month program and I objected alot but my parents won and once again I was enrolled in expensive therapy that I didn't need or even trust. I agreed so I stayed. Someone was going to feed me, I get a bed, I can bring my guitar and there was excercise, judo, massage and maybe I could get something out of this. I went and was dissappointed from the start. There were some really sick people there quitting needles, booze and pills. There was drama therapy with Dougy who told us to all lay down and meditate to Michael Jackson's "Man in the mirror" while Dougy sang along. I knew that Michael Jackson therapy was far below me both mentally and artistically.

Dougy once sat us around and asked a new girl to tell us about herself. She said a little and Dougy was a real ass.

"Did your father ever sexually abuse you?" he asked

"No."

"Well was he overly affectionate?"

"No"

"Well did he ever get angry?"

"Yes"

"Aha, don't you think that his anger was only masking his sexual desire for you?"

"I never thought of it that way." she said sobbing and I stepped in. Outraged at Dougy I told her to pay no attention to him. What an ass.

Dougy had told me once that your friends are really your enemies. He said that they all just want something from you. I dissagreed and tried to explain why but this wasn't somewhere to have an opinion. Think our way or your wrong.

They used to give us supervised urine tests often. I once stole one of the pee jars and filled it with apple juice. I hid it down my pants and when I was being watched from behind I switched the jars. I turned around and acted as though I was having trouble fitting the lid on. Dramatically I slipped and spilled most of it on my bathroom chaperone. He looked really angry and I drank the rest of the apple juice. Then he looked frightened and I laughed and told him the truth and I got in trouble. I wrote this song:

I'm worried abiut hunger I'm worried about war

I'm worried for the oceans I'm worried for the shore

I'm worried for the forrests I'm worried for what's in store

I worry that the skies will never clear up And you want me to pee in a cup.

Well hell you deserve a truckload from me

I'm really quite flattered you're concerned with my pee

And if you need more, just let me know

And I'll think of you where ever I go.

Sorry big boss, I'll do as I wish,

I have troule respecting them who want piss.

I was sleeping with a grade 1 teacher in there for her booze and pill troubles. She was cute but a little mixed up and when I left this place I only saw her a few times. The last time I saw her she cut my hair in some super GQ way while Grateful Dead played a sympathetic Samson and Delilah.

After five weeks they gave me a weekend pass and I went fishing with a friend from there. We picked up a couple of beers on the way. We had a great time. When we got back, he felt so quilty about drinking one beer each that he told and I was kicked out.

FIRE ON THE MOUNTAIN

I stayed at Ernie's for a couple of weeks. Rod and I worked for a chimney cleaning company and we used the V.W. van as our work vehicle. We put an extension ladder on the roof and we had some big house speakers hooked up to 100 feet of wire and we danced to Grateful Dead on the roof tops of Toronto. It was alot of fun. Chris broke up with Dave and he was a wreck. All he talked about was getting back together with her and he was so pathetic that nobody would. One night we were partying at Ernie's and Dave came in started swearing at us and calling us stupid names for using His van. We should have hit him for how he was talking to us but we were so shocked by it that Chris got up, yelled at him a bit and hit him herself. We told him that it was no more his van than ours, Rodney bought it, and if he was concerned about the insurance being in his name sign over the papers and we would switch the registration ourselves. We were to meet the next morning in the garage before work to get the papers. That morning when Dave showed up he wanted us to pay him $750 bucks to buy his half of the van that was worth $2,000 before he got behind the wheel. We didn't owe him anything, besides a beating, but we said that we would pay him and that would be the end of everything. He knew that we didn't have alot of money with us but we were working and would give it to him. He said that we better not go near the van until we paid him in full or he would call the police. We were finnished that job and I left town. That was the end of our friendship with Dave.

CAMP KATONIM

It was the beginning of summer and I called camps asking about work. Camp Katonim was a camp for wealthy jewish kids and they needed a canoe instructor. I took the job and hitch hiked up to the camp.

Jen was the head of the waterfront. She was wonderful and beatiful. I've always loved her lots and have to mention her.

Jon was the camp cook. He was flamboyant in his faggyhood but sincerely a nice guy. I was always uncomfortable with his gayness even though he introduced us to his boyfriend of five years.

During an August meteor shower, Jon and I took a canoe to the middle of the lake. We smoked joints and watched the sky. Jon pointed out that our whole trip I talked about nothing but girls. I appologised. I guess I was more uncomfortable than I realised.

We drank many nights and played music by a campfire on the beach. It was a fun summer.

They had a canoe instuctor before I got there but he broke his leg falling off another guy's motorcycle. He was Pete and Paul was the motorcyle owner.

Pete was a young rebel type, who quit school moved out and had been living with friends and their parents.

I had a good time working there and made alot of friends. One night we rented a movie, Pale Rider, and after the movie I wanted to travel on horseback.

SO BUY A HORSE

I knew that horses were cheap in the Kentucky area and after camp I planned to go. Paul wanted to go also so after camp I called Toronto Drive Away, I drove cars for him before, and found a car going to Louisville. We drove to Louisville and bought a classified magazine. There was an ad for a horse that was advertised as a two year old good trail riding $200 horse. I called and told a woman of our plans to ride the horse across the country. She said that this horse had never let a man ride it before. I didn't know that this was an option. I told her that I was a nice guy and the horse would love me and the trip. I asked for directions and was off to test drive a horse. When we got there we went to the barn and she brought out a horse holding it by the reins. I was immediately struck by the size of the horse. It started bucking and she had to hold strong to keep it steady. "She knows you're gonna ride her.", She said in response to the horse's lack of cooperation.

I was frightened and offered Paul the first ride. Paul simply said, "No way.".

There we were, two canadian guys in Louisville, Kentucky, about to embark on a cross country journey on horseback and the only thing holding us back was our newly disovered fear of horses. I had to do it and we led the horse outside. I climbed up and the horse went nuts. I held tightly on the reins so I wouldn't fall and this apparently made her jump more. As a last resort I let go of the reins and hugged her neck and she calmed down. We went for a small ride around the feild and I really was having fun. When we got back I climbed off and noticed that my legs and arms and neck were breaking out in some kind of a rash. It got severe and I realized that I had an alergy to the horse. I appologized to the woman and told her that I couldn't buy the horse but I would give her $5 for use of her shower.

FLOATING DOWN THE OHIO RIVER

After the shower I met Paul outside and we opened up our classified magazine to look for ideas on a different trip. We found a $50, six man rubber raft with a motor mount and a $25, 2.5 horsepower Sears elgin motor, circa 1960. We called the raft guy and went over to get it and we used his phone to call the motor guy. He said that he would bring the motor over in a few hours.

We decided to return the drive away car and hitch back to the raft and be back in time to meet the motor. We figured that the raft guy probably knew as much as we did about motors so we gave him $25 in case we missed the guy. It was about a 45 minute journey to the delivery spot and we stuck out our thumbs at the highway. We were soon picked up in the oldest beater that I have ever been picked up in. He was a nice guy and we told him of our plans to float down the Ohio river for a while. He was amazed and loved the idea and offered to go and pick up his truck to drive us to the river. We were worried about time but he insisted and drove us to his farm. We drove into a rickety old farm in this junky old car and we went to the barn where he opened the doors to present a beautiful monster truck. It was quite a suprise. As we climbed the ladder to get in the truck, he removed all of his crossbow hunting gear. We stopped on the way and picked up a loaf of bread and a couple of cases of beer. We got to the house of the raft and nobody answered the door so we went around back to find the raft and motor salesmen standing around a garbage pail drinking beer. The garbage pail was full of water and our running motor hanging on the edge. We pulled out our beer hung out a while. As evening approached we decided that we better go. We stopped at a store to buy gas and more beer and cigarettes and we met the others at the river. We loaded up and waved goodbye to the first of the great friends we would make on this trip. They stood there waving and watching us for about 20 minutes as we headed out until we rounded the first bend. The sky darkened and the motor died and wouldn't start. We were in the middle of this huge river without any tools, it was getting dark and we were drunk. We took two of the four floor boards and paddled into shore. We built a fire and drank more beer.

Luckily the motor was all slot head bolts and we used quarters as screw drivers. We got it runnung again and we put up a tarp and went to sleep under it. In the morning it was raining. We'll see lots of rain we figured and headed out. After only about 45 minutes of putt-putting along we saw 4 guys standing around a campfire in the rain this early morning on the tall river banks over head on the Indiana side of the river. They waved to us and we wanted to explore the situation. We pulled over and climbed the banks. They had been standing around the campfire since yesterday evening roasting a pig. One guy was huge. It said TINY on his hat as was his nickname. He was the only of the 4 farmers wearing a raincoat but it was just a plastic poncho and it looked comically small on this huge guy. It's only use was keeping his cigarettes dry in his shirt pocket. I went back down and grabbed some beer and offered some to our new friends. They showed us the pig cut in half cooking away in a large cinderblock rectangular oven, pig size. The top was a sheet of heavy steel and half way down was another sheet of steel where the pig halves looked ironically yin-yangish. The front was another piece of steel acting as a door. The campfire was built over a pit on a piece of chain link fence. As the fire burned they would knock the coals through the fence piece with a shovel and then shovel them out of the pit and spread them evenly in the bottom of the oven. They gave us some of the cooked meat and we dipped it in Tiny's own sweet and sour bar-b-que sauce. We also tried some roasted squirrel legs from yesterdays fireside target practise. Tiny used his cigarette to light what looked light a huge joint. He passed it to Paul who smoked it and passed it again. Come my turn I was pleasantly surprised to find out that these middle aged, all night and all weather pig roasting, Indiana farmers were hip. We hung out for a while all of us basically silent just staring at the campfire enjoying its warmth on this cold, wet day. When we decided to leave they gave us a great bag of pot for the trip ahead. They were really nice guys and we waved good bye as we journeyed on.

We drank lots of beer and enjoyed the rainy day. We had to dump the rain water out of the boat a couple of times until it was sunny and we realised that the floor of the boat leaked. We named the raft Leaky. The motor died again that evening and often took many pulls to start it up, we affectionately called the motor Old Red. The next day we stopped to get some more beer and we realised that we hadn't even touched our bread. We bought some fishing hooks and line and each carried 3 cases of beer back to the boat. It was a beautiful day and for a couple of days we drifted all day drinking beer, laying in the sun. Paul's job was steering Old Red while I bailed out Leaky occasionally and fished with my foot over the edge and a line tied to my toe baited with bread. We caught a few small fish and ate them because we killed them but we stopped fishing, beer was all we ate. We would have two or three beers for breakfast and one or two before lunch and so on until nighttime and we fell asleep drunk. Next time we stopped it was early and we sat down in a restaraunt and sipped wonderful coffee. We went to the store to buy beer and gas and someone approached us. He said that he writes for the local newspaper and we were news. He wanted to hear our story and take our pictures. We asked him if he would give us a lift to the river and were therefore able to buy loads of beer. We bought one-a-day vitamins to supplement groceries. He drove us to the river and we set off. It took more pulls then normal to start Old Red and we both cheered "OLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLD RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRED!!", as customary when it started. He took some pictures and waved as we left.

We had been warned of the huge barges that travel the river and the first one that we saw was filling and a riverside gravel pit it looked like a floating factory. Each barge container could probably hold four boxcars. The first one we saw in motion was three containers wide and five long. It was being pushed by a tug boat. We were told that these barges had to start turning a mile before the actual turn because of the size. We once found and slept in a container that had been grounded. It was ominous how obivous the immense weight and power behind the container must have been to drive it so far from shore. We slept kind of spooked by the whole idea of a massive steel container abandonned in the deep woods. Finally Old Red saw her last day. She wouldn't start, nothing we could do helped. We tied a rope to Red and Leaky and through it overboard, Old Red became an anchor marking the end of our trip. We packed up and swam to shore. I had 36 beers in my bag making swimmimng and walking difficult, better drink them quick. we walked along a road and hitched to town.

BACK TO LITTLE ROCK

We split up for hitching to meet in Little Rock at South West Fence. Next day we were each there. I was sweeping up the yard when Paul arrived. He finnished sweeping and I sorted the mess of fence hardware that was neglected since my last visit. After work we finnished our beer with David and his crew, friends new and old. We talked and laughed of new adventures. David bought more beer and we all laughed together into the night. David unlocked one of the houses he owned on this street for us. He bought any house for sale on his street and probably owns them all now. Once a house was burning down on the street and we all were there watching the firefighters versus the flames. The firefighters were winning by the time the owner showed up and David was talking to him before the firemen, I bet they made a deal.

David's business had grown from residential fences and dog runs to government jobs. He had a crew on the road doing highway fence across the state along I-40 and there was another crew doing the rest areas with more elaborate fence. Paul and I helped on these crews for a while. One day there was a meeting of minds in the yard and I listened in to hear of a job putting fence around the Little Rock water reserve dam. The fence had heavy gauge one square inch mesh and was ten feet high to make it difficult to climb and install. The poles had to be attached to the wall of the dam by a guy on a swing hanging over the edge held by a swinging boom on the back of a truck. I missed that job but the problem at hand was how to hang this really heavy fence on the outside of the poles. Holding it in place from the inside would be difficult and dangerous. We decided to build a big spool for the boom truck and we wove together three rolls of the 25 foot lengths. We did this to all the rolls before stringing them up. Before finnishing one part, Marty said that this spot is why we were putting up the fence. Everybody used to jump from there and he jumped. We all jumped too. It was great we jumped alot and a bunch of crazy ways before fencing it up.

CRANK

We hitched onto L.A. to see Ari. We went to the condo in Palm springs. We relaxed and enjoyed for a few days and then hitched to Santa Cruz to say hi to Tony. On the way to Santa Cruz we were picked up by a guy in a El Camino. Since there was only room for one in the front I hopped in the back, so did Paul. The guy took off and pulled off at the next exit. He said that he was going to smoke a bowl if we wanted any. We both squished in the front and he passed us a bowl we each took a toke and then passed it back to the driver. He said no thanks he was already stoned but we should puff away. We felt uncomfortable smoking his buds without him and passed the pipe back after another puff each. He took it, dumped it in the ashtray and filled it again and passed it to me. We puffed it and he had another puff. He was wild he talked on and on full speed gibberish and noises he was really pretty neat to listen to but obviously speeding on something. He pulled over to the shoulder and said that it was time to refeul but we were far from any gas station. We understood what he meant when he started cutting up lines on a book. He made three tiny lines if it were coke which I figured it was. He snorted one back and offered the other two lines to Paul and me. When I did mine it burned my nose so bad that I realised this wasn't coke. I asked him what it was and in ten seconds he listed probably 15 to 20 slang names for this crystal meth. Crank was another name I recognised and borax, I hoped, was just a joke. That night we got into Santa Cruz pretty late I took Paul to one of my favorite places to visit when I'm hitch hiking, the 24 hour laundry mat. After doing laundry we went to a big park and lay down to sleep on the big hills. After watching the moon through the swaying branches of the trees for what could have been hours, I realised that the crystal meth was keeping me up and entertained and not until then did I realise how stoned I really was. I asked quietly if Paul was still awake. He responded with the speed of a speedster. We hallucinated and laughed about it until morning.

SANTA CRUZ, TORONTO, B.C., TORONTO, B.C.

We went looking for Tony but he had moved. We went to the lighthouse, the beach and boardwalk and when we were coming off the board walk I saw a guy sanding down a surfboard outside a surfshop. He looked like my friend Ron only about 100 pounds smaller. Ron use to work the flea market selling used surf equipment and now he owned a surf shop? I passed by again and it really looked like him. He recognised me and brought us inside his shop. He locked thedoor behind us and rolled a joint. We smoked it and Ron gave us some boogie boards to use and pointed out were we should go. He offered us wet suits but feeling like proud Canadians we declined with stories of swimming in near freezing temperatures. We went where Ron had suggested and there were big waves breaking on the shore. We both eagerly threw ourselves at a really big one only to be tumbled across the beach. When we sat up we were both covered in scratches from being dragged along the bottom. We washed the sand off of us and the salt water stung. We returned the boards and felt at last tired from the day before and the crystal meth wearing down. We walked out of town and fell asleep. We hitched onto San Fran and saw 3 Dead shows at Shoreline amphitheatre. We hitched up to B.C. and back across to Toronto. I saw Steve Glickman, I don't remember where, and he told me that he was moving back to Toronto from Victoria. I suggested drive-away cars cross country and back. I told him that if he paid the gas I would help with the driving and moving. Rod and I made the first trip. We drove 48 hrs straight. We packed sandwiches fruit and hash and we only stopped gas. We would fill our coffee mugs at each gas stop. We had to wait in Horseshoe bay for an hour for the fairy to Nanaimo. When we got to Nanaimo we called the car owner and he said to meet us in a bar. We followed his directions and ended up in a strip bar. We ordered beers and he soon came. He gave us our $325 deposit and a $75 tip and paid for our beers.

We contacted another International Driveaway and picked up a 4 wheel drive Toyota mini station wagon. Don't go to International Driveaway because their policies say that when the car is returned the owner fills out a form and mails it, I hope, to International Driveaway and then they mail you a cheque giving you back your deposit. I imagine that this would take minimally a month and thats assuming that you have an adress. It was all on the Glickman account. We went mushroom picking with Steve and went back to his place to spent the night. In the morning we loaded the car with half of his stuff and left. He had expensive stuff espescially the stereo. This was the rich kids lifestyle my brother and sister were living and I was proud to be self sufficient. Steve was a veteran full time student taking a course or two just to stay on the family dole. His courses sounded like fun but would hardly lead to a carreer.

There was alot of snow in the mountains and I didn't dare pass a truck that was slowly climbing the hill in front of me but at the top of the hill there was a passing lane. It hadn't been driven on since the last snowplows came through and the snow was deep. I was in a fully loaded 4 wheel drive car and felt that I should be able to handle it. I got up a good speed and pulled out into the passing lane. Right away I was just floating on the snow. I could feel it rumble under the floor of the car, I didn't dare make any erratic moves. I was only moving a little faster than the truck and I was very slowly passing him. It was very scary having his huge wheels doing 60 beside me sperated only by a sheet of flying snow. I couldn't see out the front because of all the snow and I had to use the truck for guidance and didn't dare slow down because any change would surely make me loose control on the snow. I passed him and had to pull over for a breather and he was far ahead of me again before we started driving again. We got back to Toronto and dropped off the load and the car. I got anotoher car and headed out west. I stopped at the greyhound station and found a guy standing in line for the Vancouver bus, which takes four miserable days, and asked if he a drivers liscence. He cashed in his ticket and gave me half. We got to Vancouver and I booked a car back to Toronto, I caught a fairy to Victoria and drove to Steve's. Steve had 13 hits of acid. We each took one and put the rest on top of the fridge. We loaded up the car and left. It's about a 45 minute drive and it wasn't till we got there that we realized we left the acid on the fridge. Bummer. The next ferry was still an hour and 15 minutes away and in a quick desicion we were rushing back to Victoria. We just made the ferry and the sea was pretty rough walking the length of the boat, boucing on the waves, was great fun. I knew that I had the acid to thank so I took a couple more hits. By the time We hit the mountains it was dark and I had eaten alot more acid. In the praries we got pulled over by a cop. He told us to get out of the car and he stuck his head in and went rooting through our ashtray looking for roaches. He came out and said"Why do I smell marijauna?"

WE had been smoking hash so I didn't know why he smelt pot. I suggested that it was just because he was suspicious and we looked like we might smoke. He didn't like that and gave us tickets for not wearing our seatbelts.

I drove all the way to Thunder Bay before giving Steve the wheel. Still very stoned with my jacket over my head I dazed out something similar to sleep. All of a sudden something happened. I looked up and snow was flying everywhere. Steve had fallen asleep and drove off the road. That could of killed us and I was not very humoured. We walked to a gas station nearby where Steve paid them to tow us out. When we got back to Toronto it was almost winter and I got a job delivering rental appliances. My friends took me to a Grateful Dead cover band that they would see every time they played. There we dosed and danced and had a great time. The band was really good and the attmospher was like being at a mini Dead show. We also met up with a Friday night U of T bar that played bootlegs from 4 o'clock till eleven. It was also a nice scene.

THE ONTARIO STREET HOUSE

I met Steve Glickman again somewhere and he told me of the rooming house his parents had bought him in downtown Toronto so that he could hire people to renovate it and then hope to sell it for profit. He told me that he wasn't starting till sping and needed to leave the heat on so the pipes wouldn't freeze. He said that my friends and I should live there do whatever we like. He was gutting the whole place before renovations.

Rod and I went to check it out. It was great! 3 floors and a basement, 4 kitchens, 2 huge old tubs with feet, that could comfortably host 3 people. I told Steve that I would pay him $200 a month for the heating and he said sure. Rod and I moved in and I called Pete, the kid who lived at friend's homes, and told him that he was welcome to one of these numerous rooms and he moved in soon. We all worked during the day. I was delivering appliances, Rod was doing landscaping and maintainance for the townhouse complex he grew up in and Pete was working at a fast food restaraunt. Pete never really donated much to the atmosphere of this great home.

One day in the mail came an envelope from L.A. adressed to Stagger Lee from The Wheel,(Grateful Dead songs). It was 4 hits of acid from Ari. Blue unicorns were printed on each one. We took turns calling work to take the day off and had a great trip!

Friday nights at Innis college, at about 11 or so when the party ended every one would come baack to our house. They'd bring sleeping bags and stay the weekend. I didn't finnish work until 6 and was paid cash each friday. The beerstore closed by 11 so I would always pick up 3 or 4 different cases and bring them home. We had brought a second fridge down to the main floor, took out the shelves and kept it stacked full of beer. We put a bowl on top with a sign saying buck a beer please. It wasn't to make money, they cost about $22 a case. There was never less money than beers gone. Often people would put in $10 and only drink eight beers or so.

Each weekend ther were about 40 people at the house, I only knew 20 or so but it was always great fun. Different parties in each room, lots with music. People brought over half cans of paint and we painted any where we wanted. We ran around with paint on our feet leaving scattered rainbows of footprints everywhere. Only twice did the police ever come and there wasn't any real problems. The first time, the neighbors complained about the drums at 4 a.m.. I opologized to the cop explaining that this was my first house and what time would be appropriate to stop playing drums on a Saturday night. He left peacefully like a good peace officer should.

The other time there had been a complaint about the music being too loud and you knew somethings up when someone knocks on the door. This cop physically pushed me out of the way and walked right into the living room where some one was rolling a joint at his feet and another was burning away. There was a burlap sack with 50 KILOS OF MARAJAUNA printed on it, hanging on the wall along side a Jimi Hendrix poster and many Grateful Dead pictures and murals.

He said "You don't want me to look around here to much, why don't you just turn down the music." We negotiated a volume and a time to enforce it and drew a cop observance line at the proper volume on the stereo and he left peacefully, like a good peace officer should.

One night when I went to bed, there was a blond in my bed. Thanks Santa. I took off my clothes, introduced myself and went to bed. This was Laurie, she moved in soon after.

One day at work I was to pick up two big 15 cubic chest freezer from the Convention Center where there had been a food and wine show. Knowing how busy that place could be after a show, we went early and got a loading spot right away. We went in and found our guy and he was showing frozen seafood. He said that he was almost ready and we should come back in 10 minutes. We were happy to hear that because we had both waited for hours for other people other times. We walked around the show and tried lots of plastic shot glasses of wine. We hogged down about a dozen raw oysters each and were given samples to take home of everything we tried. Some wine guys even gave us extra little bottles when they saw how grateful we were to gifts of booze. We put our two bags each of free stuff into the truck and went back to our pick up guy. He wasn't there and the freezers were still full. This wasn't good. We were blocking a bay door at the busiest time and this guy had a half hours work ahead of him unloading our freezers and he wasn't anywhere in sight. We found him and told him we were in a hurry and he told us just to throw out whatever we didn't want of the seafood. Bonus!! We hauled these packed full freezers to the truck and took off to my place where we split the goods half and half. There were bags of shrimp, scallops, squid and oysters. There was fillets already dressed many ways all over. I brought down another fridge from upstairs and filled it. We went to my helper's home and unloaded the rest. I bought a big wok and cooked up delicasies for everyone every night. People sent us cards thanking us for the great times they had at our house and many mentioned the loving karma beneath our roof.
Laurie had a large dome tent that we pitched upstairs in a big room. The fly had a longg section at the back for storing your bags and the door had a small structured canopy. This was to be the turtle tent. Laurie painted the tent like the shell of the turtle leaving the squarish sections of the shell empty for any one to fill in. The baggage compartment looked like a tail and the door was painted black with two big white eyes peeking out. In a few weeks each section of the back had its own mini mural covering the tent with a beautiful coullage of friends artwork.

CALIFORNIA WITH LAURIE AND PETE

One day Laurie asked me to take her to California. I figured that this was it, the girl for me. Going to California is what I did best. I quit work and closed down the house. I asked Pete what he would do and he said that he didn't know. I kind of felt bad about kicking him out so I offered him to come to California with us.

I called Toronto Drive Away and booked a brand new RX-7 headed to Vancouver. It was just a two seater and we took turns riding in the back. We picked up a hitch hiker along the way and Laurie and I squished in the back.

In B.C. we visited my cousin Steve-O on Galiano Island. He was a really neat guy. He had a nice property and a home he had built himself over the years. His garden and family were beautiful and natural. He told me that he had tried to talk my parents into sending me to Galiano instead of Summit. He loved our turtle tent.

We took a bus across the border and I figured that three of us hitching wouldn't do so well. Pete had never hitch hiked before so I suggested that he and Laurie travel together and meet me in L.A.. I got there the next day and went to Ari's where I was to meet Pete and Laurie. A couple of days later I got a call from them. "She's a bitch" says Pete. "He's an asshole" says Laurie. O.K., great. Ari and I went and picked them up and the four of us went to Palm Springs. We had a fun day and at night Laurie and I made love in the hot tub.

I went to bed and was woken by Laurie who was dripping wet in just a T-shirt, something was up. "You know I love you," she said. I asked what thats got to do with anything.

"I just made love to Pete in the hot tub." she said

What about me, did you consider what about me? She said that she loves me and not Pete.

What about Pete? I got out of bed naked and leaned my head in his room and told him to come into my room. He pretended to be asleep. I wasn't liking this. I went over to him naked and grabbed him and told him to come into my room. I sat under the covers and the two of them stood at the end of my bed, dripping wet, saying how they were kind of play wrestling and you know how one thing leads to another, you know.

Fuck them! I told them that they make a nice couple of asshole both inconsiderate of a dear friend, fuck you both.

Laurie cried and said that she didn't like Pete and she wanted to be with me. I told Pete that he was out in the morning and I told Laurie that I wouldn't strand her in California. The Dead were playing in Detroit soon and many Toronto friends would be there. I told Laurie that I would take her there and she could find a ride home. I didn't sleep with her again and didn't really pay any attention to her complaints I just took her straight there and said good bye. I hooked up with other friends and saw a few more shows. I remember in Kansas City, I heard of a fellow Canadian being arrested. I sold my ticket to the show and sold beers in an effort to raise bail before we all left town. When the beer store ran out of beer I sold shopping cart rides for a buck. After the show some one who I sold a beer to earlier came to me and wanted to talke about how great the show was. When I told him that I sold my ticket to raise a bail he was touched. He asked if I wanted some acid, which I don't recall ever refusing, and he told me to come with him to his car. At his car he pulled out a visine container full of liquid acid and told me to open my mouth. A drop is a hit and I felt the stream of him squeezing the bottle.

"Say when.", he said.

Not much time to think about this but realising that this wasn't whiskey I counted to three in my head and nodded when. I thanked him and left.

CLUB WHITESANDS

I went back to Toronto and called around for a camp job. I reached Gary Faulkner of Club Whitesands who said that he needed a maintainance man and we made arrangements to meet that afternoon. Soon after talking with Gary, I got a call from Laurie. She was living in Vermont on a farm with the Jahewas. The Jahewas were a group of people who followed the Dead to tell preach that the Grateful Dead were a false messiah route to peace and happiness and Jahewa was the living messiah and was living on there farm somewhere in the hills of Vermont, please join us.

When they asked Laurie to change her name and to donate all her worldly possoessions she called me. She wanted me to get her out of there. I called every where to find the cheapest flight, bus, or train but nothing connected to Yahewa, Vermont. After spending about four hours on the phone, I realised that I just better hitch hike out there.

I called back Gary and left a message of what was going on on his machine but was around long enough to meet him and he hired me. Told me to meet him a a certain lake in two weeks. I warned him of my message on his machine and headed to the highway. I got to Montreal that night and I was to meet Laurie at the American border the next morning so I went to the greyhound station and bought a night ticket to the border. I had a few hours to kill so I drank a bunch of beer. Greyhound had just introduced no smoking on the busses so I went out and bought a mickey of whiskey for the ride. I drank a bunch and told the driver to wake me the stop before the border. He woke me at the border and I grabbed my bag and got out. I was still very drunk. I had spoken french with one of my rides and there was someone on the bus I also spoke french with. I stumbled into the border house and said in a strong accent "You speak french, any body here speak french?"

Luckily and as I guess the American border gaurds don't even use french speaking people at the border with Quebec. I told them in very broken English that I wasn't going in the States, I was just waiting for a girl. I sat for a moment reading an English book and then asked them where I could go to get more cigarretes. They directed me to town where I bought two cartons and some booze and went back to the border. Laurie arrived soon and we started to hitch back to Toronto. We got a ride to Montreal and got out before to hit the by-pass. It was night and about a 15 mile walk to the 401 that would take us to Toronto. We walked and hitched for a while until Laurie got tired of it. She suggested that we pitch a tent for the night and I said no. She had a little temper tantrum and sat down. I picked up her bag and kept walking, she followed. We got to the 401 and caught a ride with a truck all the way to Toronto. There were nice northern lights on the way. We slept at my parents place and Laurie told me the next day that she wanted me to stay with her and not go to Club Whitesands. Sorry, I took her to her parents place and said good bye.

Gary picked me up and we drove north of Buckhorn to lake Catchacoma. He was an ex-math professor at U of T, and had bought the property from the phone line installers union. It was originally built as a luxurious resort in the forties and when it went broke the union bought it as a club house for guys installing phone lines in that area. They had some big parties and age contibuted as well to the way it was when Gary bought it. He spent a couple of years cleaning and fixing before running out of money, when he opened it up as a kids camp to generate more bucks to work on it. The kids were pretty distructive too and it was pretty much a losing battle. This year He had the money to hire a crew and there were to be three of us plus him working full time maintanance. When we got to the dock Bill Burnette was waiting for us.

Bill was about 50 and had with him a guitar and a knap sack. This was my only luggage also and I knew that things would be fun. We loaded up Gary's barge and drove across the lake to the resort. I pointed out that there wasn't even a beach, what's with Club Whitesands. He told me that being on the Trent water way the water goes down 8 feet during the summer and sure enough there was a nice white beach in a couple of months.

The firts jobs were turning on the place and repairing the damage that winter had done. Ther was alot of damage. The back wall of one building was lying on the ground behind it and the four main floor beams had toppled over on their sides. The main building was very big. The top floor had a dining room big enough for about 200 people and a kitchen big enough to cook for them all, some offices, bathrooms, baking kitchen and a staff dining room. The main floor had two big lounge rooms in front and the back half of the building, which had been built into a hill, had caved in. It was full of ice and scary because it looked like it could all colapse any minute.

We threw the sub- pump into the lake and filled the huge tanks. We turned on the first few cabins and had to check under each for leaks. I was the smallest and would rather scurry under a cabin and do something than stand around waiting. There was lots of ice under the cabins and I had fun sliding around. When I stuck my head out once Bill asked "How is everything Mr. Mole?" the name stuck and I was more affectionately caled Moley, I was in charge of digging and scurrying. We raised the fallen back wall of the one building and put huge lag bolts in it to keep it there.

Bill and I bunked together in the first cabin. Bill told me of his travels. He was a biker/high school english teacher who had a hard time with the rules of the school. The guidance counsellor, a friend of Bill's, perscribed him two weeks stress leave and they both went down to Jamaica together. Bill never went back to school. He travelled mostly in India and the far east and I wanted to know all abouut it.

The next day weirdo Bill spent the whole day relating stories of shitting in third world countries, weird stories. Bill liked shocking people and once I figured that out it was fun to watch what he would do.

Jay was the son of a friend of Gary's. He was the third maintanance man. He came the next day and we were a little wary of this prettyish school boy but he carried a big framing hammer and we all seemed to work pretty well together.

I spent a day and a half throwing a pick axe under the main building, breaking up the ice, frozen dirt and cement blocks of the old wall so that we could build a new wall.

Jay and I got the job of emptying the septic tank each of the, maybe, 13 buildings had. It was apparently a good time to do it because all the shit was frozen and floated at the top of the tanks, however it was a lousy time to do it because the black flies and mosquitoes were so thick you could barely see your fingers if your arm were outstretched. Worst bugs I've ever seen. You could go crazy from the constant, loud buzzing going on all the time. We dipped pails and shovels in each tank, scooping up frozen and freshly thawed waste. We would pour it into a barrel on a trailer and drive it to the woods with a little tractor on a bumpy dirt road making the shit splash all over us. We would dig a hole in the woods and bury our load. The whole job took about 3 days by that time I was seriously asking my self why the fuck am I doing this. I only stayed because if I quit I'd be passing this shitty job to Bill. After a few days I was happy that I was bitten everywhere by the bugs and there wasn't anywhere else to be bit. I woke up a few nights scratching my legs violently and they were bleeding all over my sleeping bag.

As I was Mr. Mole, other animal names soon were decided for everyone. Gary, the balding math teacher with round glasses, became Mr. Owl and we called Jay simply Jay Bird, he soon graduated to just Bird.

At the end of the first week, Mr. Owl had to go back to Toronto for stuff and we were left alone. He went at about 3 p.m. and I went back to my cabin and took a hit of acid, I had brought about ten with me. Jay Bird was working on building a kind of housing for a electrical box that was sitting on the side of a building. He handed me some hinges and asked me which way they should go. Very stoned, I tumbled them around my head until I realised that I couldn't figure it out and thought that I better explain myself to Jay.

I asked if he ever did acid before and he told me once but he said it was a bad experience. I told him that I was flying and he was welcome to have a hit figuring that it was just the environment of his first trip that freaked him out but I was a little concerned that tripping out this friend of the boss might not be a good idea. Up to him and he took a half hit to start and had more later. We decided to get a canoe out from storage and we took it down to the dock. We placed on the dock instead of in the water and then just looked at each other.

"Oops, we missed." I said and we laughed and laughed. We paddled the canoe around the lake and sat against a cliff until the sun went down. I saw Bird years later and he still remembers it as the most beautiful sunset he had ever seen. We sat and watched the sky turn from blue through every shade of purple to black. The sunset itself was full of oranges, reds and pinks. It was truly a spectacular sight in a beautiful place on powerful hallucinagans. We paddled back silently through the dark, another magnificent way to enjoy acid.

Bill's animal name was harder to come by. One day the ladies who worked there told us that they smelt sewage down stairs in the main building. We went to investigate and walked around and smelt nothing. Bill made a production of walking around bent over sniffing every where. When he returned to where Owl and I were standing he stopped. We stood there waiting for his in depth examination results.

"A little musty, some rotting wood and a little mould from the moisture but no, no septic smell." said Bill very athouritatively.

At this point I realized that Bill was Mr. Hound. He made practise of smelling, very closely, all food before he ate it. Farts were commented upon by hound as being cheesey or eggy, sometimes potassium or iron were the reported predominate odours. Bill was Mr. Hound.

Owl made sure that we always had beer. We drank beer around a campfire most nights, playing guitar and having wonderful times. Some of the resorts guests commented on the campfires as being the best part of their stays. One weekend we had about 2 dozen deaf kids at camp and we got them playing rocks and grills, pots and pans and anything we could find for them to bang. It was great introducing deaf kids to music.

One day my friends picked me up at the launch and I arranged a pick up time with Owl. My friends and I went to a farm where a few friend's bands were playing all weekend. It was a wonderfully relaxed atmosphere with only a couple of hundred people partying together to great music. It rained the first night and a tent was made beside the campfire with a big tarp and some posts. There were about 5 guitarist around the fire but just playing backround to lots of chatter until 4 women of beautiful soul started rocking back and forth, snapping their fingers together, singing Aiko Aiko. We all snapped, clapped, sang and boogied with these great ladies and the turned and started singing Women Are Smarter. We all cheered and the ladies led us into the night grooving out beautiful tunes sung by all! It can only be described as wonderfully magical and that even falls short. Came the time to return to the lodge I opted to stay an extra day. I was aware that Owl would be waiting for me that night but there wasn't a phone around and if he were there he would understand.

We had free use of boats, canoes, windsurfers, kayaks and all the amenities of the lodge after work. During lunch break on the stormy days I would take a kayak and paddled like mad against the waves to quickly ride them back to shore. I loved doing this and spent many lunches battling the waves that this big lake provided.

Hound and I built a huge teepee. We gather 35 poles all more than 25 feet long and leaned them up together. For weeks after I would run around after work and strip birch bark off of dead trees and deliver it by canoe to Hound who would nail it up to the posts. We dug out a pit in the middle and put half of a barrel under ground for the fire pit. It was a castle! I chose my girlfriend to be and brought her to the teepee. As I expected and at least hoped, she saw what we had buillt and figured that I was a pretty special guy. Soon we were in bed together and when we were naked and I was kissing this 18 year old's beautiful flat tummy, she said "You know, this is the furthest I've ever been with a guy."

I remember these words very well. I froze. A virgin? I didn't realize that they made them any more. Who am I to corrupt this precious young beauty, she may be the last of a dying breed, endangered species. What if I was to much of a selfish pig and she felt bad about losing her virginity to some one who just wanted to get laid. I put on my clothes and left.

I moved into the teepee and would canoe to work and bathe in the lake. I stayed close friends status with the virgin, (which is a shitty way for me to talk of her but also shitty I forgot her name.), but I didn't spend much time with her. I was happy in the teepee just being left alone.

The day that the water dropped there was suddenly a huge beach in front of the teepee. When I paddled home from work that day I rounded the bend dropping the lodge out of sight and I took of my clothes and continued paddling home wearing only a tye-dye sheet, that I had just made, around my neck like a cape. It was flying in the wind when I rounded the corner protecting the beautiful, serene, untouched bay in which I lived, when I flipped and rubbed my eyes. There, streched across the whole beach were probably 25 speed boats parked up on the sand like seals. Really modern and expensive boats like the ones you see racing on Lake Loch Ness on T.V.. Rich cottagers spoiled kids were hanging out all over the beach drinking beer and probably praising their boats.

I put on my pants and paddled up. I got out and asked what was up. Just summer time. I packed up and left.

Apparently the land was owned by a group of bear hunters consisting of doctors, businessmen, lawyers and a judge. They would come up each October with a cook, hounds, 2 four-wheel A.T.V.s and probably lots of expensive booze. It was a summer hang out for the rich kids. I packed up my stuff and moved back to the lodge.

SUMMER TOUR

FOURTH OF JULY AT RICH STADIUM, THE REUNION

One day soon Rod and Pablo called me and told me that they had bought me a ticket for the Dead in Buffalo, fourth of July with Crosby, Stills and Nash opening up. This was to be Rod and Ernie's aniversary of shows at the same place and day of the first show I took them to four years earlier. Rod's birthday was July 18th and there was a show in washington D.C. that day and Pablo's birthday was the 23, I believe the show was second of three nights at Alpine Valley in Wisconsin.

I had worked most days and was entitled to one and a half days off a week. This confused the math proffesor's book keeping system and he told me that I had lots of vacation time stacked up. He said that in order to straighten his books he has already paid me to the end of July.

So off I went. I hitched back to Toronto and many friends were headed to Buffalo but every car was full. I hitched to Niagara Falls and walked across the border. I didn't carry a bag and told the border gaurds that I just wanted to see the falls from the American side and they let me in. I went to the grey hound station where Heads were shuttling people out to Rich Stadium. Pablo was travelling with his girlfriend, Kim. Kim's best friend, Nadine, Rod and a couple other friends were going to follow the shows in Kim's big old pick up truck. Kim had brought a cousin to the Buffalo shows and when I first met him he was laughing to her saying "All these years you've told me about the Grateful Dead and I never believed you. It's all true. IT'S ALL REAL!" He said this alot.

NADINE AND CAMP CARDINAL

After Buffalo there was a night off before the next shows and we decided to drive close to it and rent a spot at a campground on the way. Kim and Nadine were up front following a detour for hours. The rest of us were in the back of the truck stoned on, predominately, acid. We were laughing and having a great time when Kim stopped and yelled back to us "What now?"

We looked out the front and in the pitch dark of night all we could see was about a hundred randomly flashing caution lights all down the road ahead marking it closed. The flashing and the acid were an incredible mix. The dark screwed up our perception of depth and the road ahead looked psycedelically unstable. We stared for a minute in awe and then we all broke out laughing.

The answer to "What now?" was "Don't ask us.".

Kim turned the truck around and we laughed as we watched the flashing lights fade from view. From nowhere a sign popped up with an arrow, "Camp Cardinal 1 mile"

We pulled into Camp Cardinal and took a spot. I built the fire. Some one had ecstacy. I had never tried it before neither had Rod or Pablo. We did it and it was lots of fun.

There was a forest of young sapling around the camp. Many were dead, I guess rotted from the marshy ground. I could easily pull them down and bring back the whole tree including the roots. On my way back to the fire I noticed charecters in the roots that made them look like weird heads. Elephant trunks or long scraggely ears or horns. I brought them to the campfire, introduced them to my friends and asked them not to burn them, I'll go get more. They all seemed pretty cool to me and most of the firewood that I collected got to sit around the fire with the rest of us. I liked Nadine alot. She glowed with happiness and love.

A few shows later Nadine and I were graciously left alone in our communal hotel room to consumate our feelings for each other.

R.F.K

After Rod's birthday show he went back to Toronto and it was just Kim, Pablo, Nadine and I. In R.F.K. stadium in Washing ton, D.C., the band purposely sold only about 20,000 tickets to this 80,000 plus venue. When we walked in and every entrance had 8 jets of water overhead shooting out to cool us down. most of the people were on the field and it wasn't even half full. It was a great show, very intimate. Brent really wailed a Far From Me out, screaming you fucking far away bitch and other vulgarities. Emotionally packed! That night we boiled and sold corn on the cob with butter. Kim and Pablo cooked on there coleman stove and Nadine and I had a great time just walking around meeting people with our try of corn. The next day was really hot and the band had showers set up in the parking lot for all of us to use. It was great showering naked with a hundred other people outside in the middle of Washington. Pablo and I sold slices of watermelon.

"25 cents a slice, cold as ice, can't beat that price, sure goes down nice". We had a great time and sold alot of watermelon.

REGGIE

The girls spent the day running around town trying to get together the mail order for tickets to further shows. They had to be post marked on that day and the girls had trouble changing their Canadian cash to U.S. bucks. They were stuck in traffic minutes before the post office closed and frantically asked a group of guys hanging out how to get there quick. Reggie jumped on the hood of the truck and yelled at blocking traffic to get out of the way the dead heads is having a baby! We gotta get to the post office get out of the way, the dead heads is having a baby! And traffic cleared. They still missed the post office but they brought back Reggie. We talked to some connected heads and one told us to bring her our mail orders at the next show and she would take care of it.

Reggie needed a ticket for the show and we told him to make a sign saying "I need a miracle". This is head language for please may I have a ticket it comes from a song by the same name. When we went into the show there was Reggie sitting beside the gate with a sign reading "I need a blessing". I tried to tell Reggie that every one going in has already given their extra tickets away when from the stadium above someone threw there ticket stub and it landed in Reggie's lap.

"I got my blessin! I got my blessin!" exclaimed Reggie and he walked right in.

We also became friend's with Ed the guy who had parked beside us and sold stickers and lots of other Dead paraphinalia from his truck.

Reggie slept on the hood of the truck that night and we drove him home and said good bye the next day.

DEER CREEK

The band had asked us all not to go to the next shows if they didn't have tickets. They explained that there were 140,000 people on tour and the next venue held only 28,000. We had to go to drop off our mail orders and then we planned to leave town. The scene was amazing. I never saw people so hurting for tickets. On the way in people were lined up tyring to ask every care for extra tickets. There were people holding buds as big as my arm ready to trade for tickets. We found our connection and gave her our mail orders and left. We were filling up at a gas station when some one asked if we needed tickets. Wow! We bought for of them and headed back. This time it was actually heart breaking to drive by all the people with out tickets. It was going to be a great show. We arrived later than usual and asked the attendants were the overnight parking was and they directed us to the end of the lot. We parked and went in. In line there was talk of forged tickets going arouund and ours fit the discription. We were all sad but since the tickets fooled us we decided that they probably would fool the gate checker too. We all got into seperate lines and I was determined to hand the person my ticket and not let go until I was throught the turnstile and then just keep walking. It worked and the guy even let me have my stub back. We all got in and were thrilled. As we walked I found $20. I held it up and yelled "Who lost $20?". Every one said "It's yours man". Only at a Dead show could this happen.

The show was sweet and so was the opium of the guy sitting beside us. We shared our pipe with him and he shared his opium. For ever that pipe tasted sweet!

GO WEST, YOUNG HEADS!

Soon the east coast tour ended and the next show was two weeks and 2,000 miles away. Pablo, Kim, and Nadine were going and I could either join them or go back to the lodge. I liked the lodge very much but I was really loving Nadine and the four of us had all become so close. I was also the only one of us who had been to California and I looked forward to planning a leisurely 2 week tour for my friends. I called the lodge and explained.

We were off. First stop Little Rock. I introduced my friend and we stayed the night and partied. We gave them acid and they loved it. Most people aren't used to the quality of acid that can only be found on the west coast or at a Dead show. We tripped out all night and had a great time!

We all wanted to go crystal mining. Arkansas is about the only place I know to find them in North America. We went to Hot Springs National Park and asked around about mining. It was $10 each and $40 was alot of money to us so we decided not to do it. We went to a campground and rented a spot for the night. We found crystals in the gravel at the side of the road and were excited enough to walk the roads for a while picking up beautiful rocks.

The Grand Canyon was our next stop. I took some acid and drove all night and into the parking lot of the Grand Canyon before waking Pablo and Kim who were resting in the back. The parking lot was on a slight incline and although we were only 20 feet from the edge of the canyon it still looked like desert all the way across. I woke KIm and Pablo and Kim stuck her head out and asked where was the canyon. I tried to tell that it was right there and she didn't believe me. We all finally got out walked up to the edge and agreed that we were there. We found a public washroom to clean up in and spent the rest of the day hiking around. We drove to the painted desert that was full of beautiful coloured rocks and much petrified wood. Too ensure that we didn't steal bits of the park they asked us if we had any rocks to declare. The truck was full of different rocks from crystals to gravel, we had picked up all pretty things and thrown them in the back. They taped up the back door to officially seal it. We had a great day walking around here and witnessed the skies turn black and a huge rain and hail storm come and go, unusual weather we were told. Pablo and I stood on the edge of a cliff watching the storm front approach and stayed to feel it's wrath. When we went back to the truck we weren't able to change our clothes or dry off without breaking the official seal.

That night I took more acid and drove all night towards Vegas. It was pitch dark for hours of driving and we were running low on gas. All of a sudden we hit the Nevada border which is Hoover Dam. We started a winding decline and came across a road block of about 4 police cars with there lights flashing. To my stoned eyes this was a radical change from the dark. When we reached the road block I rolled down my window and asked the platoon where we could get gas. They said keep going and happily we did. I came to a secluded gas station that had closed for the night and pulled over. Kim stuck out her tired head and asked where the hell we were. I said that we were very low on gas and maybe we should sleep here until morning. No she said keep driving and I did.

Again the road was pitch black until we hit Vegas and the 40 stories of flashing lights was so overwhelming to my acid eyes that I didn't even notice the first little red traffic light that I went right through. I pulled over and changed drivers.

We parked at a hotel and went to the casinos. I explained that I figured the only way to win in Vegas was to accept as many of the gratuities as were offered by the casinos to draw us in. We dined on free shrimp cocktails, drank free booze, danced with bands and explored the whole Vegas nightlife without ever even finishing our first roll of nickles. As morning approached I was seeing Vegas in a new light. All night gamblers were leaving the casinos broke and crying. Losers, losers everywhere. I was explaining to one guy that suicide wasn't a good idea when he found another quarter in his pocket and I lost him at the next casino. I was really uncomfortable and we all decided to leave but the day was so hot already this morning that we were afraid for the well being of the truck. We drove to Lake Mead and swam all day. That night we drove to California.

The storm we had seen at the painted dessert had made it's way to california and the highway was floded at all low points. Driving was slow but we made it. We hit L.A. and found Ari. It was Friday afternoon and being an orthodox Jew, Ari couldn't drive after sundown. He looked up at the setting sun and said "Quick let's go to Palm Springs". When we got there we relaxed in the wonderful change from living in a truck to staying in a resort condo with a pool and hot tubs.

I remember making popcorn one night and bringing some up to Kim and Pablo. Apparently they were right at the point of mutual orgasm when I walked in offering popcorn. I sincerely hope that to this day Pablo doesn't look around for popcorn before cumming.

We all went back to L.A. where I stayed and took on painting Ari's parents house and Nadine, Pablo and Kim went to San Fran for Jerry Band shows. I tried to meet them up there but we missed each other.

I WASHED A DEAD GUY

One night Ari got a call from a funeral home saying that some dead guy was being put on a plane in the morning and needed to be rabbinically prepared for the funeral tonight. Ari agreed to do it and told me that there had to be two people present and would I go with him. I said O.K. and got some whiskey on the way to keep me relaxed. We went into the back door of the funeral home and checked the board to find out who this was. He was headed to Toronto in the morning just to spook me out. We wheeled him out of the fridge and Ari prayed and washed the body. I had to help flip him over and then put him in the casket. Pretty weird but not so bad.

GETTING HITCHED?

Nadine called me at Ari's. She told me that Pablo and Kim were headed back to Toronto and I asked her what she wanted to do. She wanted to stay with me. Hurray! She hopped on a bus and I met her in L.A.. I finnished painting the house a few days later and we hitched up to Santa Cruz taking our time. I bought a pair of bongos and a tambourine for Nadine and we stopped in Santa Barbara to busk for change. Nadine had never hitch hiked before or busked for money so I suggested booze would loosen her up for our evening performance. She only drank bloody ceasers so we bought her favorite vodka some clamatto and celery salt and drank ceasers on the street. They were really good and I drank too many. When we started playing I couldn't remember songs and I was constantly dropping my pick so we just hiked somewhere to crash for the night. The next day the whole downtown was closed to pedestrians in preparation for the weekly farmers market. We set up and played. We did very well and had a great time. Neighboring stands gave us fruit and veggies as a tip for playing near them. We were told of the markets circuit and went to a few other towns to play their markets.

We got to Santa Cruz and I couldn't find Tony but we walked around and had a good day. On our way out of town we got a ride from a family headed to a county fair. We wandered around and stayed to watch the music after. Tiny Tim was playing Tip Toe Through the Tulips and I was dancing with my eyes closed when some one bumbed into me. I appologised without opening my eyes and again I was bumped into this time pretty hard. I opened my eyes and there was Tony. I hugged him good and introduced him to Nadine. He invited us back to his placeand we spent the night there.

We hitched up to San Fran the next day to see Jeff Healy open the show for Little Feat. Jeff Healy was a Toronto boy unknown to California at the time. He rocked the audience. They were awed by him and we felt great about it. Little Feat played great too and played a few encores afterwards with Jeff Healy. We saw some shows at Shoreline Amphitheatre and decided to hitch up to B.C..

I asked Nadine to marry me and she said yes.

We took our time going up U.S. 101 and reached Vancouver a few days later. Nadine called her ex-boyfriend who came and picked us up at the border. He had the first grow room I had ever seen. He had just picked a crop of buds and there was a garbage bag stuffed full of leaf. He was complaining about how difficult and risky it was to get rid of it and I offered to take it. I figured that you couuldn't get high off of it and I wasn't keen on paying canadian prices for cigarrettes so I would smoke the leaf. I rolled up the leaf in about ten packages of newspaper, Probably about a pound each, and we started to hitch back to Toronto.

I smoked big leaf joints with people on the way and handed out bundles to anyone who wanted some. We stopped in Calgary to visit family of Nadine's and on to Toronto.

THE KIND HOUSE B & B

We visited friends in Toronto and I called Club Whitesands and asked Gary if he had work for us and he said yes. We went up and most people had left already and I helped Mr. Owl close the place for winter. We got paid and went back to Toronto to look for work and a place to live. We stayed with friends at their band's studio until the first of the month. Nadine and I, Eric and Darcy and Ian rented a three bedroom house together nearby. Ian, more affectionately known as Hee Hawn, grew buds in the basement. We had over 300 Dead bootlegs and yummy buds. I got a job as an oxygen delivery boy for central Toronto and it was good but heavy work. I twisted my back really bad one day and dropped out of the oxygen delivery business.

Eric was an neat guy who would take huge bottle tokes of hash up his nose as often as possible. He would inhale the whole thing steady and in control, then he would hold his nose and mouth shut tight and cough. Cough is only the medical term I suppose, this guy near exploded several times. He would look at you and explode. You pretty well expected to catch an eye shooting out of his head.

MARYLAND SHOWS WITH CHRIS AND STEVE

The Dead were coming to Hamilton soon and I drove down to Maryland to see the shows prior with Chris and Steve. Chris and Steve were friends I met through Nadine. I drove our V.W. white rabbit. I was just about out of my asthma puffer (More affectionately called asthma dope) and it was way cheaper in the states so I opted to wait. Chris and Steve grew the best buds around and my near empty asthma dope was no match. We smoked two fatties and stashed one in a bottle near the border for the ride home. I had been turned back from the border many times because of my earlier possesion charge. Zero Tolerance: No one, except for proffessional athletes, with a possession charge may enter this haven U.S.A.. Empty vial of hash oil years ago, Butt heads! The war on drugs. They forgot to add violent and sexual criminals to their border policy but soon summed it up that any criminal record is reason enough to refuse you entry. Waa, Disneyland!

So as not to inconvience my friends, I borrowed my friend Brian's I.D.. All he had left was a library card and a social insurance card and I think I took some club membership. We got pulled over at the border and questioned for some time and I was wheezing pretty bad and needed new asthma dope. "Brian", called one of the border gods. I turned around because it was the only noise in the otherwise deadly silent office. He was looking at me and I realized that my I.D. was Brian's. "What's your birthdate?" he asked. And I remembered before we puffed but I blurted out what came to mind first. He just turned and walked away and I felt like asking if I got it right. Few minutes later they let us go. I met Hee Hawn at the shows. He had the rest of Brian's I.D. and he was being hassled about the same time as me at a Quebec border where he was crossing by train. We could have been in deep shit if they put the two together.

We had to find asthma dope next and the first place we stopped told us that they didn't sell it with out a perscription in that state, Next two states were the same and I was ready to tell them that we either had to go to a hospital or turn around when we found some in the next state.

The shows were great! It was Phil's 50th birthday. We handed out paper with my phone number and a list of do's and don'ts to the border naive. Every one was invited to call me and I made an effort to organise all my friends with available housing, rides and tickets for the two nights in Hamilton.

I sold cream cheese, cucumber and sproats on whole wheat sandwiches for a buck to raise money for tickets and gas for the ride home. I got my ticket and a bag of dope and we went in. The shows were great and we enjoyed them with our friends Amy and Josh from Anne Arbour. Cops had always loved Grateful Dead shows because there was never any trouble. They were always leniant with us and we all had fun, just like a good peace officer should. In Maryland they decided that this was going to change. The F.B.I. schemed and dreamed and introduced Operation Dead End. Such cute names they come up with I hope they get paid well. After the show 100,000 people laugh and talk together while we calmly and cheerfully walk through the crowded halls. When we got out side our path had thinned. There was room for only four people, side by side, amungst walls of cops. Cops on horses, cops standing in riot gear waving batons, cops sitting on their cars. Red, White and Blue flashing lights probably entertained acid vision as apposed to the intimidation it was meant to instill. I hope you pay these guys well.

Everyone was silent as we walked through the ranks. I said, only loud enough for my neighbors to hear, "Gee, all these police and I don't feel safe." We all laughed but kept things pretty quiet so as not to get them going. After every one was out the cops, and hundreds of cops, line the edge of the parking lots in military formation. Cops with riot gear were standing behind there shields looking dead ahead, behind them a row of cops on horseback, behind them cops on bikes and cops in cars behind them. They were focussed ahead and began to advance.

"Get in your car and leave now!" they yelled at you as they came near. If you weren't gone by the time they got to you, your car would be towed out of there. No one who's ever heard of the Grateful Dead could have been drivivng those tow trucks. We went to a campground with Amy and Josh and it was full of refugee heads and there's always room for more. We partied all night and in the morning I went to the liquor store and bought a big bottle of vodka and one of peach schnapps. I bought some five-alive fruit juice and asked the clerk for a plastic, fishbowl shaped, candy container. I made fuzzy navels in my fishbowl and sold out quickly. I went back to the store and got twice the booze and mix and I bought a couple of kiwis to cut up and float in the bowl. I was set up beside the shower at the campground and while people waited their turn for a shower, they played hacky sack and drank fuzzy navels.

The cops were wearing electrical tape over there badge numbers and were having a feild day beating up hippies. Twice I saw cops on horseback grab someones long hair and drag them for about twenty feet and drop them and just keep right on riding. It wasn't all that surprising to see cops be so cruel but I thought horses were more considerate than that, they were probably just as scared as we were.

There were many stories of cops taking peoples drugs and money and just letting them go. Stick together and stay away from cops worked well enough for us all. The shows were great.

It was Phils 50th birthday and there were balloons going everywhere. High Times were there and I scored a pretty big picture selling sandwiches, look it up if you collect old issues. We left quickly after the show for the campsite to avoid police confrontation.

In the morning we were woken by the sound of cops searching a tent just a few tents away from us. Everyone there was arrested and the cops went to the next tent and tore it appart. Most likely this was illegal. We pay for and therefore are tennants of our camping spot, a search warrant should be needed, but they were just strolling into tents until they found something. Pretty well everyone has something even if it's just an empty pipe. Well I told my friends to pack up quick and I ran around the campgrounds alerting everyone what I saw and suggested they leave to. As we left we saw cube van paddy wagons lined up and filling quick.

On the way to the stadium I picked up some fruit and using a flat for beer cans I walked around asking for spare change for fruit. I like this price, some can afford more than others and joints were always acceptable payment. There was always lots of trading invovled. I kept going back to the store and picking up other things for spare changing. I figured that I had enough for a ticket so I went to a Burger KIng and asked if they would be nice enough to change my change to bills. When she asked how much I guess around $40. She said O.K. and I started unloading and sorting my change. I had $40 in no time and asked about $60 and she said sure. There was lots left over, probably another $50, and I didn't want to bother her more so I thanked her and took the $60. On my way back to the shows I picked up some packs of munchies to sell while looking for my ticket. Li'l Debbie's chocolate fudge nut brownies cost me only $1 per dozen and pre-show munchies swiped them up quick. I went for more, sold them and went in to the show. The first ticket I found was given to me by a nice guy and when I offered him his cost price he said no. He wanted to give it away, a miracle (good deed #1 at a show), I appologised and gave it back for him to give to someone more needy than me and thats not me being kind, that's how it works at the shows.

I had trouble dancin=g that night, all the change in my pockets kept pulling down my pants and I came to the revelation that you have too much money when your pants fall down when you try to dance. I dug through my pockets and found that my house and car keys took up alot of room. My therory still made sense in fact judging my wealth I felt lucky that keys only represented the car, I would have surely ripped my pocket trying to put the car in there.

Chris and Steve bought me a Guatamalen belt after the show and I used it as a head band so I would still know if I had too much money.

HAMILTON TRIPS

We hurried back to Toronto right after the show to avoid police confrontation and we didn't feel safe until we got back to the Canadian side. Our fatty in a bottle was right where we left it and we relaxed and puffed all the way home.

Back in Toronto we waited for the Hamilton shows which were only a few days away. Every one who called got housed. We had 35 people in our house for the weekend and Hee Hawn and I managed to be awake and cook breakfast for everyone each morning, on tour we later heard of our home being reffered to as the Kind House Bed and Breakfast. Makes a man proud. Both nights I missed some of the shows and they were great shows, pretty small too. The first night I had fourth row floors and I was walking around during the intermission and found a good friend who had been in the truck with Pablo, Kim, Nadine and I at the beginning of our tour. Anyways, I offered him my ticket stub and said to go and enjoy my seat for a song or two. I was dancing around at the back of the floors when an usher asked me for my ticket. I told him it was at my seat way over there. No ticket get out. What? 10 people checked my ticket before I even reached the floor, it's at my seat. I tried to make him understand and, politely, didn't risist as he pulled my by my arm out of the floor seats. He handed me to a cop who I tried to explain my self again as he pulled me to the doors he pushed me outside and the door closed. I was outside alone, staring at the closed steel doors sitting against the huge wall of the stadium. I was very stoned, there was quite an immediate and sudden atmosphere change from being in heaven at a show to being thrown out, and it was dark, cold and rainy. I went to a Tim Horton's donunt place beside the stadium and they were closing. I bought a coffee and there wasn't even anyone around to tell my sorrow to. I walked back to the car to smoke a big bowl of hash and hide from the rain and maybe cry a bit. I lit the pipe and smoked for a few minutes and felt like I was giving up by just sitting there waiting. I had to get in there. I hurried back to the stadium and I told the gateskeeper in the foyer what had happened. She said sorry and I couldn't just leave. I tried telling her again but she wouldn't listen. She turned her head when a couple of workers dragged a chunk of across the floor. The loud noise distracted her and I dashed up the stairs and lost myself in the crowds. To avoid showing a ticket stub, I went to the top of the stadium and watched the rest of the show.

The next day I decided that I would offer an a brief tour of our part of Canada and we drove around the country for a while, in two cars, waving at Canadians. When it was time to head to the shows, my rabbit died. We put everyone in the other car and told them to go ahead, if I couldn't get the car going I still had my C.B. radio to call for a ride.

It was raining. I tried starting it, gave it a rest, tried again, gave it a rest. I finally killed the battery and then went for my C.B.. Oops, no battery, no C.B.. I flagged down a pick up truck (the first vehicle so far on this little highway), he took me to a highway that took me to a highway that took me to Hamilton. I was frantic hitching as the show was starting soon but rides picked me up quick. As I reached the top of the final on ramp, a semi was pulling up the ramp. When he stopped I climbed up to his window and flashed my last $10. I asked, please, I have to get to Hamilton, this is all the money I have. He took me right to the statium. Good guy driving that huge truck through the downtown core of Hamilton for me! I pulled my ticket out of my pocket and it was soaked, mushy and illegible. I walked up to the gate with my poor ticket cupped in my hands and said to the gateskeeper lady "I'm as soggy and done in as my ticket, please let me in."

She gently tore the ticket in half and left me my stub. I was in and only missed one song.

The shows were great. Hound came too but didn't get in, he had a good time anyways (everyone always does).

BARBADOES

Nadine had glummed a bit over the winter, she wasn't her usual bubbly self. Concerned, I often asked her what was wrong and she would simply reply "nothing.". Nothing wrong, nothing I could do. I talked to Pablo about this and he said that she's an independant person, give her space. I tried. Once when I asked what was wrong she replied "I don't know.". So something was wrong we just didn't know what. I asked if she wanted me to leave for a while and her eyes lit up the beautiful way that I fell in love with.

"I can't believe you understand." she cried as she hugged me. I didn't understand but this was obviously what I needed to do. I called the travel hot lines and found a $200 return ticket to Barbadoes. It was to leave the next day and come back in a month. Nadine and friends took me to the airport and we hugged deeply. I felt good about what I was doing.

I landed in Barbadoes and booked a $5 a night bed and breakfast in a old womens home. I went to a bar and had a few beers. I found out that the town, Oistins, was mostly fishermen and cement factory workers, the island's only factory. I arranged to meet up with a fisherman early the next day and help him pull up his fish net cages. I woke on time and met him infront of the bar. We hopped on a 22, or so, foot wooden tug and headed out into the harbour. We would dive down over the nets and tie a rope on. Then we would haul up the trap and empty out the fish on deck. The fifth trap had a big eel in it with an evil looking face. They warned my to keep my feet away or he'll bite them off. I said throw it back, I didn't like him at all. He said that that would be to dangerous for when were diving better on the deck where we can see him. I stayed in the water after that diving and hanging on to the boat but when I got back in the boat I wasn't able to help and watch for the eel at the same time. We finnished up, mended a few traps and set them all back down and came back to shore. I walked around with my guitar and bag and met some musicians. I bought some pot and we sat on the shore playing music for a while. I head north on foot to some unpopulated beaches I saw from the plane. After alot of walking, sweating and bush wacking I made it to the beach. There were two women there sunbathing nude. Right beach I figured. They had hired a boat to drop them off here and they offered me a beer. We hung out for a bit and I wandered off to build a shelter. I was looking forward to using huge palm leaves for a roof. I spent most of my days there on the beach. I would walk a couple of miles to town every few days for fresh water and a bit of food, rum and pot. Most of my food came right from the trees on the beach. Breadfruit looked like big green golf balls, bigger than a basketball. The were a sweet squash that I would just throw on the fire and then dip in salt water. One was enough food for a couple of days. Once I went for a journey to see the rest of the Island. I bought some rum and took a bus across the island, I found a nice spot, got drunk and fell asleep. I woke up after being hit by a wave, the tide had risen. I had to climb a sandy cliff to get out my path was blocked by the tide. I took it as a lesson. I walked around in the blaring hot afternoon sun. By the time evening had come I was baked. I came to a town a sat down for a beer. Matthew

came up to me to sell me aloe juice. We got to talking and I went with him to by some pot. We smoked it together in his little hut in a shanty town full of these corrogated steel shacks. There were chickens running around, one water spout for the town and it all seemed kind of neighborly. Matthew introduced me to many people. I offered to buy us a case of beer if he would let me spend the night. He said sure and we had a great time. I stayed for a few days in the village and went back to my beach spot.

One day I was sitting naked on the beach and a little girl and her mom were out for a walk. The girl came running up to say hello and the mom called her sharply. "Come here!", she commanded. The girl looked at me, felt bad, and left. I scared them. I felt bad, got drunk(er), and wrote this song feeling old and odd.

On the beach under my shack of palm

I saw a girl walking with her mom

Her mom turned away saying "Baby let's go"

But she kept coming closer, she wanted to know.

"Baby", I said, "What's your name sweet child?"

"Curiosuity.", she said. I went wild.

Oh loved one, where have you gone? What's happened to me?

She said, "I'm right here. What's wrong? Can't you see."

Oh dear child I fear that your right,

As a man gets older he loses his sight.

But when did it happen I'm just twenty- three,

To look like a child is a nice way to see.

I reached out to hug her but I knew it was wrong,

I couldn't grab hold of what she wouldn't have long.

I wrote another couple of songs in Barbados the first was to Nadine. I often told her that I loved her but she never said I love you too. Occasionally I asked if she did and she said yes but that she just had a hard time saying it.

The song goes like this:

We've done all we can let's keep doing more Let's travel the earth and time day by day

Let's sail the seas just follow the shores And please be my queen beside me all the way

You're all I really want to do And I'm frightened I'm not the one for you.

When you don't say you love me it hurts I'm sorry that I left maybe you needed me

If not me maybe some one else I hope not so but if so let it be

If you don't feel completely true I fear I'm not the one for you.

Even the kindest river gets rough at times Don't worry I'm there just hold me tight

We'll make it through together maybe bruised When we wash up on the beach making love all through the night.

For ever with you I'd like to grow If you don't feel the same please let me know.

Be my reason to be, be my reason to be

Be my reason to be, Baby, be with me.

The other song was written on the only rainy day that I saw there. It was a beautiful rain and I was feeling pretty good about myself and situation.

Love it all, love it all Man I'm feeling good,

Blowing breeze to the sea Sunny day, shack of would

Nothing could bother me anyhow

Feeling right here, right now

Make rain, make it rain, Do it make it pour.

Baptize me in showers Love it rain on me some more.

Nothing could bother me anyhow

Feeling right here, right now.

It aint from me alone, this love I love so real

It's my friends I have to thank for the way they make me feel.

I was keeping track of the days because of my return flight and I went back to Oistins the day before. I spent the night with the friends that I had met there before and took a bus to the airport the next day. I spent my last $3 on rum to bring home. At the airport I walked up to the counter and gave them my ticket.

"I'm sorry sir, your ticket's no good." she said.

My clothes were bleached and worn from the sun and beach. My little knapsack was full of broken shells and coral for my friends. I was scraped and burnt but my ticket had been buried for a month in tupperware and it was as crisp and new as the day I got it.

She told me that the charter company who booked my ticket went bankrupt. I paid for my ticket in cash, I boought a return ticket, I didn't understand. She pointed to a room full of stranded Canadian tourists and I joined them. A member of the Canadian consulate was there saying that they were doing all that they could. We waited all day and the consulate member came back and told us that they had a filght for us tommorrow and would put us in a hotel room for the night. They asked who didn't have any money left and gave us $100 each. They took us to a hotel in Oistins and I found my friends and we partied all night on the bucks. I bought some more rum and gave them the remaining $50. Our money was worth alot to them. $50 was one months rent for the three bedroom house that we partied in. I met the rest at the hotel in the morning, spending their $100 on expensive hotel food. We were taken to the airport and flown home.

TZVI

Nadine met me at the airport and was happy to see me. We went home and things were great for a couple of days but soon enough things seem to slow down again. Nadine brought up summer tour and I was thrilled. Fuck the city. Love was more important than anything and it was better when we were travelling than cooped up all winter in a big ugly city. The shows were in Sacramento and I said see you there. I hitched across Canada to B.C.. Ari was in Vancouver and I stayed a few nights with him at his friend Tzvi's home. Ari had met a beautiful and wonderful girl and was starting to date her. Tzvi is an ultra orthodox jew with a black hat beard and those curly hair ding-a-lings that hang over the ears and go by the name of payas. You've really got to believe strongly in something to dress like that. These guys really did believe a bunch. They would pray many hours a day. Mornings involved a ritual of prayers including being wrapped up in leather straps like some bondage cult thing. Ari and I once walked into a biker-bar in California by mistake. We figured that it was better to sit and have a beer than to just turn and run. We were approached by a few people but everything remained freindly. When we walked out Ari, refferring to his yamaka, (religious beenie), said "Now I understand why I'm supposed to where this thing, God wanted to see if I would take it off in there.". And so blind faith is rewarded with reason once again, but who am I to tell them what how to live. By now I had met so many people that I realized that we are all freaks and loners and do it all our own way.

While I was there I made my self useful by fixing a broken fence and doing some painting. To avoid hassles on my way to the shows, I asked Tzvi for a ride across the border. I dressed up in Tzvi clothes and didn't even have to shave my beard. The border gods didn't even ask us a thing, they just waved us through. Little did they know, I was smuggling a knapsack and guitar in the trunk. He dropped me off in Blaine, Washington and filled up his car with cheap American gas.

SACRAMENTO

I took my time heading down to Sacramento and still arrived a week before the shows began. I walked around the stadium grounds and found Bill Graham and asked him for work in exchange for tickets and he told me to come back later. I hiked around for a while and came back but there wasn't anything for me to do. I waited for the shows and they set up a special parking and camping area for every one who had all three nights tickets. I found Nadine on her way in and she turned away from my kiss and just gave me a cold hug and went in the gates to the priviledged zone. I wasn't sure what was going on. I made and sold sandwiches and had enough money for a ticket but they were all in the priviledge zone. I hopped in the back of a pickup truck and hid myself as they went in. I thanked them and gave them sandwiches and I walked around selling sandwiches, looking for tickets and looking for Nadine. When I found her she was uncomfortable. She said that she wasn't sure what she wanted but wanted me to stay her friend while she goes through this difficult time. I know that I don't know what I want. I consider this to be one of the most important things I know! I finnished selling sandwiches and found a ticket and went into the show with Nadine. Being near her and not able too touch or hold her like we had shared so much love in the past and absolute joy in shows, this was awkward. I once touched her hand by mistake and appologised and then dwelled about it for awhile. Dead songs have always had rich things to say and I thought to myself what have they to say tonight. Well every song said leave to me. I was amazed how it all seem so catered to my problem. They opened up with Cold, Rain and Snow, the first line goes, "I married me a wife, she's been trouble all my life." then they played Walking Blues, Easy to Love You, Jack-a-Roe, Queen Jane, High Time, All Over Now and Bird Song in the first set. The second set wasn't as obvious but it still contained a Know You Rider, Wheel and a brand new Foolish Heart.

After the show I wanted to express to Nadine my thoughts on knowing what you want and I figure if you want something else than you probably aren't happy with what you got. As a hitch hiker the less I had the easier the travelling, I would go South for the winter instead of carrying a coat.

Nadine was talking with some one and I patiently waited quite a while. I was hoping that we would sleep together and feel better in the morning. I would have felt better just holding her shortly and maybe she felt the same, I would hope so. When she finnaly finnished talking with this guy, I asked if she would sleep beside me, I love her. She told me that I was only asking because I was jealous of the guy she was talking to. Well I wouldn't want her sleeping with anyone but me but this had never been an issue between us before and some one else was the last thing on my mind.

BACK TO B.C.

I woke up early, alone, and left. I hitched north to Vancouver and went to work on Tzvi's back yard. For a whole week I dug up his huge garden to keep my mind busy. I planted vegetables and flowers and finnished. What now? Tzvi had no compassion for my situation because Nadine wasn't jewish, if that how jews think I'm glad that she wasn't. While walking one day I passed a pay phone and decided to call Pablo. Luckily there was an mechanical operated to take my name because when I heard his voice I couldn't stop crying to say anything. "Mike where are you, we love you, come home please." were Pablo's comforting words and we talked.

I wrote this song sometime around now:

How selfish of me to want you, To be how I want you to be.

To be mine and mine only, With undoubting trust in me.

I've never needed a home before And now it seems my goal

Am I slipping of the track And sinking in a hole?

I'm crazy and unstable I don't know what's going on.

When things aren't clear and simple, I just keep moving on.

So I think I better leave again And I feel it's just as well

Cupid's got a shotgun And he's blowing me to hell.

CAMP TOWHEE

I left Tzvi's and hitched back to Toronto. I hung out for a few days at Pablo's and I called around summer camps looking for work. When I ggot down to "I" in the yellow pages, under camps, where the Integra Foundation offered me a maintainance job at their camp for kids with learning disabilities. He told me that all the staff were psycology students or had degrees. I figured, wrongly, that this would be a great group of free thinkers to spend my summer with, living closely in little cabins who depend on maintainance men to keep the place running. Well I guess this is how it went.

I met Vince, the director of camp Towhee, the first day of work in Toronto and he drove us up to camp. There were only 5 or 6 people at camp when we arrived, some head staff and Cecil the old man maintainance man whos been the maintainance man for years.

Cecil had already started up the pump and turned on the power. He showed me around and I got right on spreading a pile of gravel that had been deliverded. Together we did some repair work around camp getting it ready for the kids.

The rest of the staff arrived the next day and I was put with a group of them for a four day briefing of what to expect and how to restrain kids. I told Vince that his money would be better spent if I were working and I did.

I couldn't help but be subjected to the preparations for the arrival of the kids. Rules were introduced every where and I suggested that maybe the kids have trouble with rules and things should be more leniant. "You'll understand when yiu see them.", this was the common answer to all of my questions and I never did understand. The you must always wear socks rule was a problem because it had been many years since I had owned socks or underwear. They told me to always where long pants and no sandles. Another time they tried to dress me they gave me my very own Camp Towhee T-shirt. My name was written in felt marker in the collar. I was instructed to wear it on the first day of camp after which they would take it and wash it for me and give it back to me on visitors day. I explained that I didn't want it. I had lived out of my knapsack for many years and I carried the right amount of stuff. More stuff, more weight, and the whole thing was so full of conditions that I wanted no part. I do my job well, leave me alone. They gave me the shirt anyways and I tie-dyed a big heart on it.

The day the kids came they were immediately organized in the dining hall. Vince welcomed every one from a microphone and adressed them with such a bullshit yippee camp spirit and he talked to them as Mister Rodgers or Captain Kangaroo would. I immediately informed him that he talked to his 3 year old daughter more maturely than he talked to these 10 to 15 year old kids. He said I'd understand and I never did.

I was treated as hired help and looked down on by the staff as were the kitchen staff. The rest of the staff were up and coming proffessionals. The first night after midnight the assistant director knocked on my door and told me that her toilet was plugged. There were 10 unoccupied cabins all with full operational toilets. I offered the use of my washroom or else my plunger. I fixed it the next day.

There was one girl I tried to get close to she was pretty in a very earthy sort of way. She too was sad about the must have socks rule, I knew that she was not keen on covering her feet in her beloved Birkenstocks. She was studying something like "education through outdoor experience". That fit great with me and I offered many times to take her on hikes through the tornado mulched forests, or to see some fresh bear tracks, or a canoe ride, she was always to busy writing her homework assignment in order for her to get credit for her summer work. I felt that it was contracitory of the name of the course and gave up pursuing her.

I was still very sad about loosing Nadine. I had believed that every one loved me and this one person who I wanted to love all my life felt that I wasn't good enough. I felt really broken and worthless. I played "Looks like rain" and "Baby blue" over and over and cried often.

After my time with Anne I started this song and finnished it after Nadine.

Once I had a job so good I quit Once i loved a girl so sweet I split.

It seems as though I run away From things so good you'd want to stay.

Every day here has been great. My time is up it's getting late.

Itchy feet and open track, If I don't leave now I can't come back.

Why hang around till things turn bad? I'll just stay fond of times we had.

I wrote this song four years ago, I'll finnish now cause now I know,

I should've hung out and stayed with the song Not stayed with a woman till things went wrong.

Yea I've been sad for a real long while, It's stained my days and weakened my smile.

It was so great I thought it wouldn't end, Yea it was great, but dare I try again?

"When will this end?", I asked myself in pity and realised that the answer was simply "when I decide.", what could I have done differently, nothing, I did fine.

I finnally figured out in this song:

So many lonely nights, so many tears. My whole life with out you how would I pass the years?

You Know I even thought of dying, The whole time my heart was frying.

You see my love was completely true Aint nothing wrong with me Babe, what's wrong with you?

I gave you all the love I could, Then I feared it was no good,

I wanted you so bad there's no denying Just how hard that I was trying.

I did everything that I could do, Aint nothing wrong with me girl, what's wrong with you.

I suffered so much up to today so I decided to change my way.

It's over now, I'm not lying I've had enough of pitiful crying.

I'm sick and tired of feeling blue, Aint nothing wrong with me girl, something's wrong with you

There's nothing else that I can do, But that's O.K., I like myself, hope youre happy too.

After reading it through, enthusiastically I wrote:

I really feel free

Getting back to me.

Soon this song followed. I was thinking of myself as the travelling guy and Cecil played the spirit of the old man:

I'M VERY ME

Hey dude, what's up where are you from? Just the direction that I have come.

That's great my friend, where have you been? Oh glorious places, the wonders I've seen

The path of a tornado, The power of the sea

I've been looked inside the desert Where distance is the key.

Sympathy from clouds, And loving from the sun,

A lumberjack in a caddilac, A preacher with a gun.

Oh so many souls All seperately spun.

Each day a new day, A new journey's begun.

I am me! I am me!

And I don't know anyone nearly as me as me!

Hey old man, how did you pass the time? I got in a rut while chasing a dime.

What did you learn, old man, what do you know? A rut's just a path it's no place to go,

My life is my own that's plenty for me, The road of life's crowded, that's not how I'll be

Wander away sit under a tree, There's nowhere to go just hang out and be free,

I am me! I am me!

And I don't know anyone nearly as me as me.

About the tornado, Cecil told me the terrifying eyewitness account. He and his wife were the only one's at camp. The weather was really bizzare, as pre-tornado weather probably is. The winds were getting worse and worse. Cecil took his wife to the shop, the only building with a concrete floor where they felt it the safest place to be in what must have seemed like a dangerous storm to take cover from. He said the wind got as load as standing next to a jet engine full throttle. He said that he opened t_he door to see what was going on. He saw a building hover off the ground for a feww seconds and the just disintergrate. He says that he repeatedly pinched himself to see if he was dreaming. The walls were shaking and he cover his wife on the floor and told her that he thought they were going to die. Every thing soon ended and they went outside. The forrest that hid all the cabins was gone so were the cabins. One cabin was in one piece, half sticking out of a barn 15 feet off the ground. Cecils brand new truck was parked out in front of the shop with out a scratch. There were four trees fallen around it so tha it couldn't be moved two inces in any direction. The shop was the only building not destroyed. Cecil told me of how it took till the morning for him and his wife to get out of there. The mile long driveway was blockade the whole way and while Cecil and his chainsaw tried to cut there way out there were nine guys and big machinery trying to cut their way in. He said that when you cut through a tree it would unwind and fall apart into splinters.

I hiked around often and the tornado's path was really obvious from the lake looking at the trees. I looked like a huge wrecking ball had rolled of the water and over a strip of trees that were all knocked over from it. Hiking anywhere in this area was like climbing in the trees. They were all lying down with roots sticking up 20 to 30 feet and left thick muddy puddles where they had once stood. the trunks were supported by their dying branches 10 feet in the air. Walking along the trunks was the easiest path but not easy by any means. Walking along the trunk up, in the air, branches were sticking out every and the trees themself often dropped a few feet under my weight. I once found a good section of roof about a mile from the camp and I dragged it out to the shore and put it up on rocks to act as a deck. I cleared some brush and made a little campsite. I later brought some of the older kids out here to make a tree house and help them get away from camp. They loved the oppertunity and one of my days off they spent the whole day cutting a trail from camp with just a bucksaw and a shovel.

I decided to play some Grateful Dead on the guitar for the weekly Friday night campfire. I was asked to sign the campfire registar and they probably would have liked an audition. They asked me if I was going to play a fast or slow song. I said that I didn't really know what I was going to play having being used to campfires that you just sit around and jam. I was explained that fast, active songs go first to tire the kids out and slow songs go last to put them to sleep. I told them that it would just be mellow just me and my guitar I guess and they put me at the end. The entire place was over organised and I never understood, The campfire had a table of contents, a plot and an M.C., there was no sense of fun.

Once I saw a kid jump out of a bush and throw a rock into the face of another kid at point blank range. The thrower then took off and the other kid and myself pursued. He ran right to the dining hall where he found some counsellors. He ran to them for protection and the other kids, face bleeding, came in screaming "I'm going to kill you!".

The counsellors held him in the restrain position that they had been taught with the kids legs between their crossed legs and they pulled tight on the wrists keeping the arms crossed straight jacket style. The thrower was standing back safely sticking out his tounge. The other guy was, understandibly, still thrashing around screaming in human restraints. I explained what had happened and they told me that this wasn't my area and the kid just had to cool down. I tried again to tell them what had happened and as well to explain how this might not help cool him down. I left with their assurance that they know what to do. After more than a half hour of heartbreaking screaming heard all over the camp I returned to defend the kid and hopefully free him from his restraints. I was told strongly to leave. I went quickly to Vince and told him everything and he wasn't even conserned. He finally said that he would take care of it and he took the kid into his office, the ultimate punishment like being sent to the principals office, and talked to him a few minutes. He probably threatened to call the kids parwnts if he didn't behave. Once again I was told that I would understand and I never did.

Other than hikes my much cherrished only time alone was cleaning the dining hall. In fact at the beginning I was givrn a schedule of my jobs and it included sweeping the dining hall after each meal. After a few days I asked when I was suppose to mop. It wasn't on the schedule and so it caused the bosses a dilema. When I said that daily sounds like a good idea to me they were pleased. I asked that I could lock the dining hall for an hour after lunch to get it all done undisturbed and they said O.K.. I had a double deck portable stereo to use that could play to tapes at once. I would put on two different Grateful Dead drum jams and play them together for good mopping rythm.

One day I went to sweep after lunch and there was a group of kids playing a game called social-opoly being videotaped by their counsellors. I asked them to leave and they told me to work around them. I listening to the questions and paying attention to what was going on I was appaulled. The questions were things like "If you had three chocolate bars and were with two friends would you a) eat them or b) share them". The ten year old kid would smile at the camera and say slowly and clearly "b) I would share them with my friends". This kid didn't have any chocolate bars and it didn't matter. She was being taught that she might know how to act in such a trying situation. She smiled at the camera and told them what they wanted to hear knowing that this tape would be reviewed by a roomful of very critical personality judges. They probably answered questions the way that they did out of fear of hospitalization or some equal threat, I better act "normal". I mentioned my disaproval to the counsellors and they said that the kids had signed permission forms to be in the movies before taping. They didn't understand me so I went to Vince. He was in a meeting but I thought that this was important to stop immediately so I walked past his secretary and into his office. I told him what was going on. He told me that they had signed permission forms so everything was O.K.. I yelled at him accusing him of trying to teach the kids that they were totally fucked up. Teaching them that it was important for a group of proffessinals to candidly observe simple answers to simple questions and pass judgement. I pointed out that even if they were succesful in teaching the kids that they were possibly uncapable of making the simplest of desicions without consulting a psyciatrist first, the example they set as a properly groomed mature adult was lousy. The kids knew well enough who they would not want to be like, which was most of the staff. The kids had no problem picking qualities they liked in people and qualities they didn't like. Before breakfast every day, Vince would get down on the ground and check every campers socks. The cabin with the highest average of cleanest socks got the grand oppertunity to keep the white sock trophy, an old sock filled with polyfiller and painted white. I asked that if this was the example of how the kids should be is it any wonder that they would be reluctant. Having probably felt silly and having being teased by the kids while playing with their feet, Vince understood! He stopped the filming and it didn't happen again.

One day a camper climbed up on the roof of the dining hall and was waving in the windows up there. Vince ran up to the microphone and told everyone to ignore him he was just seeking attention. That was actually alot of attention. I admitted to Vince that I used to climb on roofs too and I turned out to be a good maintainance man to say the least. He tried to explain how this was a problem and I suggested that if he never climbed on roofs maybe he had a problem. I felt like climbing up there with him in support but instead I called him down and I showed him some chords on guitar. He was a nice kid. It was his cabin I later built the tree house with. I talked to Vince and offered my time with him to give him a chance to get out of the over organised days at camp. Freedom from the schedule. Vince said O.K. For one scheduled hour a day he was to come to me. The first day I told him that this was for him and we could do what ever we wanted. He didn't know what he wanted to do, over scheduling can be a problem that way. All that they had been taught was to know what they didn't want which was everything around them and they had never had free time to explore what they might want to do. We opted for hacky sack on a lawn occuppied by sun bathing, bikini clad counsellors.

The next day I pointed out the great shop that I had at my disposal and we built a park bench and later a trippy four chamber turtle tank with slides and tunnels and bridges. I would teach him guitar and many nights he and his friends would hide in the workshop and we would play music until their counsellors found them. When it became an issue they were I argued until they accepted that music shop could be scheduled without that much prior organization.

One day Vince told me that he had read in the paper that one of the members of the Grateful Dead had died and I questioned him a bit but didn't believe him at first. Vince did not know the Dead better than me and such important information I would know first. Soon I thought about it more and decided to call Pablo. Pablo told me that Brent Midland had overdosed. He said that they were going to drive to camp to tell me but couldn't come until the weekend and we cried on the phone together for a while. It was a heavy loss and I was sad for a while. People there didn't understand why I was so sad. Many people asked if he was my brother or something and when I got sick of explaining it I would just state that yeah, we're all brothers.

Pablo and Kim came up anyways and we camped the weekend and had a beautiful time morning the loss of a brother.

One of the counsellors was bringing her nice Yamaha guitar on a canoe trip. I suggested that she bring my all weather, disposible, $35, hitch hiking guitar because canoe trips aren't good for nice guitars. A couple of days later she brought it back broken. She was so sorry that she broke it and I was so sorry that she was upset. It's a good thing it wasn't her nice Yamaha. We appologized to each other for a while and then she left.

She fell on it in her tent and the top broke above the bridge. I was sitting in my well equipped shop and figured that I could make a new one and if I was going to make a new one, I could make it anyway I like. I chose a big hitch hiking hand. And so it was, above the tuning pegs was a big cartoonish fist and thumb. What was once a cheap pawn shop guitar, the name brand was Mann, became O-mann the Hitch Hiking Guitar. When I made the thumb part of the logic was the usefulness of not having to stop playing guitar to stick out my thumb for aproaching cars any more. O-mann took care of that.

Redwoods on one side of me

Pacific ocean on the other

What a place to play a tune

To nature's loving mother

O-mann, O-mann, get that car.

O-mann, O-mann. A hitch hiking guitar

As a car approached, I'd stop playing

Hoping he'll stop for me

Pick me up and take me

Way down southernly

CHOROUS

Well he didn't stop for me

Nor will I for any other car

Cause I'm packing the craziest music machine

O-man the Hitch Hiking Guitar

CHOROUS

Thumbs up O-mann they stopped for us

Let's climb inside that magic bus

CHOROUS

At the beginning of the summer Vince had asked me if I wanted to stay after camp was over to paint the entire camp. I said maybe when I heard the whole offer, come back to me with a price and he never did. The last day of camp he asked if I was going to paint and I said no, maybe in the spring. I was happy to leave this place of child bashing I had been looking forward to leaving for some time now.

The last night of camp there was a phone call for me from Ari. He was getting married and asked me to be his best man. I told him that I was always his best man and maybe pick someone for the ceremony that your parents would be happier with. He picked his brother to be his best man and the wedding was to be at the end of December in Vancouver.

DRIVE-AWAY

At the end of the summer many wealthy folks start to migrate to condos in Florida for the winter. These people want their cars down there and Toronto Drive-away, car movers, are very busy at that time of year, same with bringing the cars back in the spring. The usual deal was you give him about $250, he gives you a $100 plane ticket back from Miami, an expensive car full of gas and four days to do this 18 hour drive. When you give them the car they give you $250 U.S., plus a big tip usually.

I often call Torono Drive-away to start a trip. It was always a legitamate looking way to cross the border. When I called this time Ron, the owner (tell him I sent you), said "Mike, where have you been? I've got 400 cars to move quick to Florida. Take any car you want, give me $50.", I told him that I was on my way.

An hour or so later I was in a caddillac on my way to West Palm Beach. I drove straight through and arrived at night. I took a quick nap in the car, delivered it and hitched back to Toronto with $300 U.S. in my pockets. The whole return trip took only three days. I took seven cars that fall to Florida, each one tipping me $50 and each return trip taking three days. One night I picked up a car from the car owner's home and picked her up at the Miami airport the next night.

When I was picking up my last Florida bound car, the phone rang while I was sitting at Ron's desk. It was a women who had to get to Little Rock, Arkansas. I heard Ron say that it might be difficult to find someone to drive there, I waved my arms and said I'd do it. He said again that nobody reallly wants to go to Arkansas, and I'm jumping up and down in my chair going "Me! Me! Me!". Finally he says "So I'm gonna have to charge you $700". I asked him when, gave him $200 for the car and took my last Florida car. When I got back I picked up the car and headed to Little Rock. I stooped in Memphis to go see the Allman Brothers and arrived in Little Rock the next day. I decided to go crystal mining while I had use of a car. I drove this big white cadillac up a muddy mountain road and filled it with muddy rocks. They were all over the place! I had a great time. I drove back to Little rock and drank beers with David and the crew. I heard one new crew member say something like David's a stickler when it comes to keeping busy and here we are drinking lots of beer and we're still on the clock. the other guy raised his beer to me and said "Canuka Joes in town."

We drank all night and around 8'oclock I went and cleaned the car and friends guided me to the home where I returned the car and headed back to Toronto for the Camp Towhee reunion. It stormed hard and cold on me so I treated myself to new apperral. I bought a flourecent orange touque and orange gloves to go with my orange rain ponch/ground sheet. It's important to be seen at night or in bad weather when your standing on a highway.

I returned to Toronto well weathered and carrying a big bag of beautiful rocks on my back. I was a couple of hours late for the reunion and it finnished on schedule. I wasn't that dissapointed, my invitation had a seperate slip asking all staff to arrive 45 minutes early for breifing. I called Vince when I got the note asking him if he was planning on organizing the reunion. He said "What do you think I should do? Let the kids run wild?"

Of course. I asked him what makes him think that he could teach kids to play.

ARI'S WEDDING

I worked a bit in Toronto and thought about Ari's wedding. I called Toronto Drive-away and booked another car to Palm Springs. I drove down and then hitched to L.A. and went to Ari's where I tried on a suit of his for the wedding. He agreed to pack it and I headed up to Vancouver. I went to Tzvi's and did a little work for him and when Ari's family and friends arrived at the airport they had rented a bus for them all to be driven to the hotel in downtown Vancouver. I was assigned the costumary duty of guarding the groom from other women. Ari and I had a fun time on guard. The wedding was huge and wild. I stayed at the back cause I probably stood out. After the wedding the men dance around the bride and groom and lead them into a room and dance around guarding the door until the marriage has been consumated. The tradition states that the room must have only one door and Ari and Sandi were danced into the banquet hall next to the one the wedding was being held and a few minutes later he came out and said "This room has more than one door.".

The dancing stopped. Someone spoke from the crowd and said "They can use my room. It's got one door."

So we all merrily danced Ari and Sandi to the elevator, pushed the button for them and danced around until it came. Ari and Sandi got in and we, the dancing mob, realized that we wouldn't all fit and our dance lulled. Ari and Sandi stood alone facing us in the elevator and as the doors closed between us I heard Ari say "Hey, this room has only one door."

Before the wedding Ari's brother told me that he had rented a gorilla costume for me to dance in at the party.

When Ari and Sandi came back down I was given the gorrilla suit. I was very drunk and didn't resist, instead I put on the suit and ran around until I passed out from the heat of being in the suit. Hitting the ground awoke me and I wandered off. Tzvi had put tin foil and lighter fluid in a hat and danced in front of the bride and groom with his head in flames. The wedding was great fun.

I left the next day to hitch hike back to Toronto. It was winter and I figured that I would be picked up quick because of the weather. I got through the mountains alright but I was dropped off past Calgary one night at an intersection of two highways and all that was there was a hotel/general store/bar and it was closed. I figured that if I tried to sleep that the cold might freeze me so I decided to walk to stay warm. There was no traffic at all and I walked for a couple of hours and thought that it would be a good idea to start heading back to the corner that I started from. It was really cold and I tried to focus of feeling the 98.6 degrees of warmth that our bodies run at. I sang over and over to myself "It's warm as can be inside of me, inside of me it's as warm as can be." I have never seen so many shooting stars as that night. Each shooting star was followed by seven or eight others in the same path, rapid fire one after another practically in the last one's tail. I could see four or five at a time. It was an incredible show and I've never seen anything like it since. Coyotes howling also made neat company although sometimes I worried about how many there were and how close.

After about another hour a truck came by and picked me up. I couldn't stay awake in the truck and appologised to the driver and explained that this was my

second night awake. I feel that it's just bad hitch hiking edicate to sleep in a car. He didn't care and he woke me at Regina. He dropprd me off at the Husky station on the east side of town. I had a coffee and a soup on hit the highway again. There is a mall on the east end of Regina that has a digital clock and thermometer and I stood beside it to evoke sympathy. It read -23 degrees for 3 hours and I decided to go to welfare and get a bus ticket out of fear for my life. They gave me a ticket back to Toronto. On the bus the guy beside me gave me some very strong mushrooms and I tripped out all the way home.

BASEMENT BUDS FARMER

I got a job in Toronto and stayed at my parents. My parents and I learned to spend time together nicely when Nadine was around and I was happy to be getting along with them. Rod and HeeHawn had rented a home together and HeeHawn was moving out. Rod asked me to rent a place with him. Moving into a place in Toronto is very expensive and Rod figured that after a couple of months he could handle the rent and I would always have a place in Toronto. Rod was stuck without it so I agreed. We found a place in our neighborhood and ended up just a few blocks from my parents house. I used to go for dinner once a week and it was fun.

In the same week Rod and I both got laid off work. Every one I knew in construction was laid off within a couple of months. My boss called me into his office and handed me a slip of paper. He told me to take it to the unemployment office that was just a few blocks away. I went there, stood in various lines to fill out various forms and was told that I could expect my first checks in six weeks. I told the worker that rent was due in three. She filled out another form and told me to go to the welfare office. Bigger lines and more forms and I was granted an appointment for one week later. I didn't like the idea of being on welfare so I found a found a painting job and one job led to the next and Rod and I were doing fine. One night, at about 2 a.m., HeeHawn called and asked how our rabbit was running. We told him fine and he told us it was important that we come over. He had had an arguement with his girlfriend and she had threatened to tell the police about his grow room. We loaded the plants and some lights into the car and after many trips his house was clean. A few weeks later they were back together and we brought the plants back to his home. He gave us a few plants and lent us a light for our help. Pretty soon we had learned to cut clippings and we bought more lights, fans and timers. It wasn't long before we had a super bud producing grow room. It was wonderful living with fresh sticky buds growing like weeds in the other room.

We divided one of the bedrooms into two rooms. Marajuana grows in the spring and buds in the fall. To simulate this one room had 18 hours of light and the other just 12. Each week I would cut and plant 10 clippings, I would move 10 plants from the 18 hour room to the 12, and each week I would cut down 10 fully bloomed plants. It was a great cycle and we were always well supplied.

I had been turned on to a book called "The Emporer Wears No Clothes" by Jack Herer. It's all about the history of marajuana. The industrial uses from clothing to paint. The legal history, the tricked and bribed supreme court trails of illegalizing marajuana. The government's deciet in pushing fabricated lies to keep it illegal. The first marajauna law said that you could pay your taxes with it. It was during the first world war and hemp, industrial marajauna, was an important war commodity.

The fortunes and family relations that ran the country those days persuaded by the billions of dollars available by monopolizing on natural resources. The medicinal uses and battles associated to marajauna. The environmental ramifications of re-legalization. Hemp procduces four times the pulp and three times the oxygen over trees. Hemp needs no pesticides and produces a superior product than cotton which is responsible for half of the pesticide use in the world. The environmental ramifications of it not re-legalizing.

I began to realize the fragility of our planet and this book had the facts. Here it was money influenced many bad desicions that we are just coming to realize now. I had been smoking pot now for many years and I had read all those hand outs and even researched more about the harmful effects. I considered myself well knowledged on the topic of pot, more than most, and here was alot of amazing, brand new information.

I booked an appointment with my local member of parliment and broght the book. "Check this out. Brand new information about pot. I guess you're gonna legalize it now." He shook my hand and smiled and told me that he would deal with the matter appropriately, don't forget to vote.

Hmm. That voting thing explained the insincerity of his smile and proffessionalism of his handshake. I booked an appointment with another M.P. and explained my concerns about the environment, hemp and the insincerity of the other guy. He shook my hand and smiled. "Everything will be O.K., don't forget to vote."

I checked out a few more of these guys and lost my political innosence. One of them told me that it was nice to talk to someone who didn't need and interpretor. He complained to me that all day his job was to hear the cases of people who applied for refugee status and got turned down. Legally everyone has a right to challenge the judges desicion and have a re-trail and everybody does it because it gives them an extra year. He shook my hand and reminded me to vote but I bet deep down he really didn't want me to vote for him.

I wrote a letter to the minster of the environment and I got your basic "Thanks alot and don't forget to vote" letter in return.

It was getting frustrating. My newly devloped sense of social resposibility had to been set down for a minute to take a breather and look at it all again from a far.

I got a job at a summer camp as maitainance man and called Vince at Camp Towhee and offered to paint his camp before going to the other. I remembered Vince saying that he liked Santana and Carlos was opening up for the Dead in Vegas. I told Vince that I would paint the camp for $600 or he could use the $600 to go see the Grateful Dead with his wife and I would paint for free. I tried to stress how important a Dead show is, especially to someone in his position. If your going to act as a life consultant and authority, you should see a show. He said no and I was paid $600. I went up three weeks early and Larry came up to help. I don't think I've mentioned Larry yet but he needs some explanation.

LARRY

Larry is about 15 or 20 years older than us. He finnished college as an engineer and bridges were his interest. He held a job for many years designing bridges and decided that he didn't want to spend his life working in an office. He took a job delivering mail and did that for many years until he got fed up with the system and dropped right out. Every morning for many years now, Larry walks around picking up returnable bottles and cans to buy his daily pack of smokes. He collects everything. Living like the traditional bum, Larry has a collection of hockey cards probably worth a million bucks. He collects buttons and toys and coins and bones and an endless amount of other things. He has very strong opinions on many crazy things and is really an all around interesting and wonderful guy. I always bring my best finds to Larry and one day the travelling museum of Larry and Mike might drive into your town looking like a weird school bus but full of magical finds. I'm proud to call Larry a dear friend.

After the camp was painted Larry went back to Toronto and I went to my next camp.

ANOTHER CAMP

I worked hard all summer played some guitar and canoed around the lake for most of my days off.

Realizing that people are people and laughing at those who think otherwise, I wrote this song:

Hey limosine with your tinted glass

Roll down your window man, show me your ass!

Come on superstar,

Show me who you really are.

Can you wiggle your bum in a variety of ways?

Cause that's how I'm judging a good man today.

Hey too much make-up, what you trying to hide?

Throw up over here. Show me what's inside.

Come on superstar,

Show me who you really are.

Can you spew a rainbow of colors array ?

Cause that's how I'm judging a true soul today.

Hey you in the mirror, do you think we care?

Put mud on your face man, mess up your hair.

Come on superstar,

Show me who you really are.

Can you burb the alphabet from Z to A?

Cause that's how I'm picking my hero today.

Hey politician, do you shit just like me?

Is it brown and stinky? Or is it odour-free?

Come on superstar,

Show me who you really are.

If that aint a joke, man, pee in a jar.

It's all the same shit, aint no two ways,

We got no business judging anyone, any days.

Another politacally motivated song that came out of me that summer is this one:

If we're going to have a nuclear war Let's get it over with and done

Go ahead blow up the earth Then see what you've won

I'd like to raise a family But maybe it's too late

If you're going to do it, do it It's not fair to make us wait.

It make sense that armageddon Will be the last the we're creating

What kind of maniacs run tis place? What are they contemplating?

Let's just get it over with I can't stand the waiting.

Yea I dare you boss go do it. Reap fire across the lands.

You're a god man go ahead, Our fates are in your hands.

So come on you stupid son of a bitch Blow us up and how

Don't waste my time no more, If your going to do it, do it now.

I had recently read a book by Herman Hesse called Demian. I was total moved by a story told by Frau Eva about a man who loved a women so much but she didn't love him back. He left really sad and spent his life bummed out. Later in life she saw him again and saw what a wreck he had become. She realized then how much he really loved her.

I wrote this song of it.

He loved her with the completeness

Only a simple man could gain

But with her recognition

This total love was slain ,

And he could not make her understand

And he could not stand the pain

So he bore his love inside him

And headed for the train

He bought a ticket, out of town

To the land of cold and rain.

The winds of ages weathered him

And all that did remain

Was a statue of a man in love

Crying out in pain

And when she passed the statue

She saw the mark of Cain

And dared to look him in the eyes

And ask him why again,

The statue spoke and said "My sweet,

I did not die in vain.".

-VANCOUVER-ARKANSAS-TORONTO

I hitched west to Vancouver. I worked for a while for Dominoes pizza and I bought an old Ford Pinto for $200. I stayed at Tzvi's and did assorted fixing work to earn my keep. Once there was a big canoe race at Kitsalano beach and Dominoes had been a sponser. There were about 15 people per canoe and I volenteered to be in the Dominoes canoe. The morning of the race I noticed a beautiful girl on the beach. She noticed I was looking and I smiled at her. She came running over to me, grabbed my arm and squeeled "You're Mike Gitelman!".

I was pretty happy but I didn't recognize her. She told me her name and I remembered. She was a friend from junior high school. The last time I saw her she was probably six inches taller than me and maybe 20 pounds heavier. Now she only came up to the middle of my chest and she was pretty damn nice looking. She was canoeing on behalf of the company she worked for who was also sponsoring the race. We arranged to have dinner in a few days.

The day of the big date I was fixing some ventilation ducts under the pizza shop and I slipped and cut my hand deep right across the knuckles where my fingers meet the back of my hand. I wrapped it all up to stop the bleeding, finnished the work and washed up. The bleeding had stopped and I took the bandages off. When I picked her up at work, she opened the car door and the interior light came on. The cuts had opened up from gripping the steering wheel and my whole arm was red with blood. I washed up and we had a great dinner and some wine. After dinner I drove her home and she invited me up for beer. I rolled a joint and neither of us had a light so I went to the car and found matches. I forgot her room number. I sat in the lobby and waited until she came down looking for me. I still had a great time with her that night but I'm sorry to say that I haven't seen her since then.

I decided to leave and drive the pinto down to Arkansas, pick up some crystals and then drive back to Toronto. I had no trouble crossing the border in something as responsible looking as my own car and I drove 36 hours straight to Hot Springs National Park where I slept a few hours before morning. I woke up and dug for crystals all day and visited the evening in Little Rock before heading back to Toronto.

I drove 24 hours straight through to Toronto and got a job for Dominoes again. I worked for them for a couple of months and one day the boss told me about closing down one of his stores and taking the equipment to B.C. where he would open another store. I offered to help move and suggested that my friends help also. The move was to be a Saturday night at midnight. This seemed odd to me because Sunday was always a good business day and at midnight the pizza ovens would still be hot. What I didn't know was that the boss hadn't paid any bills for months and didn't even own the equipment, it belonged to Dominoes.

THE GREAT PIZZA STORE ROBBERY

Saturday night there was a truck there waiting and we loaded everything in it. The next day the boss mentioned to me that the fridge compressor was still on the roof and the Dominoes sign had to come down. I put a ladder on top of the pinto and took Rod's toolbox and took apart the compressor. I lowered it off the roof with a rope piece by piece and it filled my pinto to the roof. I dropped it off a the main store and went back for the sign.

I was up on the ladder unscrewing the sign when a chinese business man came running up to me and told me to stop. I didn't know who he was and I explained that I work for Dominoes and I gave him my boss's number and went back to work. He called the police and they came and aske_d me what I was doing. I explained again and they told me that he was the lanlord and my boss apparently owed them money still but this had nothing to do with them or me and I could working. They told him the same thing and he yelled and yelled at me. He told me that he could have my legs broken for a handful of pennies. I finnally called the boss and told him that this was an ugly scene and he better come down. He came and talked to the landlord and left. I went back to work and pretty soon a locksmith showed up and started to change the locks on the ex-pizza store. I didn't care and kept working. The landlord then picked up my toolbox, Rod's toolbox, and put it inside and was going to lock them in. I ran down off my ladder and ran for the tools but he had put them inside. I could now either push him out of the way and grab my tools, and I figured that I would go to jail for sure for pushing a man in a suit, or I could call the cops after all he had threatened me and was now stealing my tools. I should have just pushed him away, cops had never helped any way before but it took me years to learn that lesson.

I called 911 and told them that a man threatened to break my legs for a handful of pennies. The same cops came and they were mad. They didn't want to deal with this and told us both to go home. They told me that I would have to see a justice of the peace and charge the guy with stealing. He yelled out "I want his adress!" and the cops said "Relax, you'll get it."

I told them not to give him my adress because I called them from his threat, but they said it was procedure and went ahead and gave it to him. Idiots! We pay them too much.

I went to my boss and told him to straighten everything out. These weren't my tools. He said sure but never did anything. I found the landlord's office by calling looking for shop space to rent. I went there and explained that the tools weren't mine and his beef is with my boss not me. He said no tools until the bills are paid. I called the boss demanding that he pay his bills and when he said O.K. I went to pick him up. He said that he'd mail him a cheque and I told him that I would deliver it and that the lanlord said that the cheque had to be certified. The boss acted angry about this, probably because the cheque was no good, and I offered to pay the extra to get it certified. Then the truth came out.

"How much would you say your tools were worth?" he asked.

I went home with a hardware catalog and made a list of what was there and brought the number to him and it was over $400. He said that he would pay me that but never did. I went to him often in search of the money but he never gave it to me. Finnally he offered me $200 to forget it and I said give me the $200. After he did I told him that he still owed me $200 and he still owed alot of people money. I wrote up a great story titled "The Midnight Move of Dominoes Pizza". I mentioned how carelessly heavy equipment was dragged across expensive ceramic tile floor, how freon was just released which was illegal, I mentioned fixtures being ripped out of walls and many other things that were easy to blow out of proportion without lying. I brought it to the landlord and told him that I would sign it if he gave me back the tools. I finallly got them after much bickering and haggelling. This was my offer. The letter for the tools. I decided to leave town when this was all finnished.

TRAVEL RESTRICTIONS

I thought about flying to Europe and hitch hiking across Russia. The borders were now all open and I bet travelling there would be fun. I went to re-new my passport and was told that I owed the government $300, what for I didn't know. After some looking into it I found out that I had been charged for my Barbadoes rescue by the Canadian government and I couldn't have a passport until I paid them off. Fuck them. I drove to the Niagara Falls Peace Bridge crossing. Without many questions they sent me to immigration who refused me entry because of my record for possession. I went to another nearby crossing and the same thing. I tried the other two crossing within driving distance and was refused at each of them. The borders had adapted a new system where they type in liscence plates right away and then they are immediately connected to an R.C.M.P. computer. I didn't know this and I waited for eight hours in Niagara Falls waiting for the border gaurd shift to change. I tried all four crossings again and got turned back four more times and lots of warnings not to try again. I decided to drive to Quebec and try a different state and different province. Once again immigration wanted to see me.

"How did you get out?", asked the border gaurd.

"From what?", I asked.

Apparently his computer said that I was being held in custody to see a immigration judge for trying the border so many times. Being recently learned in border gaurds schedules, and I was trying just about 24 hours from the last attempt, I asked the border gaurd to contact the other and figure out the story. He left the room to check it out and I hopped in my car and turned around back inside Canada I felt like a refugee in my own country, I wasn't allowed out. I drove back to Toronto and sold the car for $100. Amy and Josh were there visiting and working in their V.W. van. They were having trouble with it and didn't know if it would make the upcoming shows in Berkely. I suggested that they try Toronto Drive-away and they got hooked up with a Honda heading to Palm Springs. They thanked us and said good-bye and left. That night we got a call from the border. The border gaurds love to hassle hippies but they were American citizens they had to let them in. They decided not to let the car in. I told them to go to the shows, I would pick up the car. I hitched down to windsor and found the car. I drove it back to Toronto Drive-away and heard Ron call the guy and tell him that the car was not allowed across the border. I asked Ron for his permission to handle this and the guy's number. I called him back and told him to wire me $400 and I would pick up another $400 upon delivery. I figured to just head west and try every crossing I come to, worst case scenario, I call him from B.C. and tell him that I couldn't get across but his car is closer.

Ron warned me not to accept his check that last year he passed a bogus check to a driver and it took weeks just to get in touch with him again.

CALIFORNIA

The first crossing I came to was Sault St. Marie. I knew that there was a Mark's Work Wharehouse near the border crossing and if it was open I would buy some new border clothes and try there. I got a shirt and pants and shaved in the parking lot using the side mirror of the car. I had some hash left and I squished it up under my lip incase I felt that I should swallow it. No problem at the border, I even learned a new trick. Usually they start by asking where you're from, where you're going, what for and for how long. I answered the what for question by saying "Oh just for a couple of days." The for how long question was taken care of in advance and the border gaurd was stumped.
"Go on through." she said and I remembered what had happened. I still use it often and generally get a good response. I was driving in north Michigan and it was raining like crazy! Many times I found myself driving very slowly and sitting right up against the steering wheel. Each time I would calm myself down but the road was like a river. I turned on the radio to find out that all night I had been chasing a hurricane. The next day the weather was nice and there was a car behind me in Wyoming and I noticed that in the rear view mirror, the driver had a scraggely hippyish beard. Similar to Josh but I was totally surprised when they passed by and it was Amy and Josh. We pulled over right there and smoked a joint together. We drove together down to Berkely and I headed further to Palm Springs to return the car and get some more money. When I returned the car the guy tried to write me a cheque. I explained politely that I knew he had trouble before with his cheque and that cash had been agreed upon in the past. He tried to give me $100 and I reminded him that we had agreed on $400. He said bullshit and got angry and when I refused to give him the keys he threatened to call the police. I warned him that I would tell the police that he hired me to smuggle his car into the country after being told that it was refused entry already once. He told me I was trying to blackmail him and he called the cops. I sat outside and waited and when they arrived I started explaining what had happened. He ran out into the arms of the police and acted like he was going to beat me up. He put on a great show for the cops and neighbors. The cops looked up my name and found that I had an unpaid traffic ticket from about 6 years ago in Santa Cruz. They read me my rights and told me that they were going to put me in jail for the night where I would be transfered to an L.A. prison the next day and I would rot there until they got around to transporting me up to Santa Cruz. I asked them to let me call my parents for the money and I took off. I hid in a culvert under the road until night. I walked the outskirts of town until I hit the Greyhound station on the highway. I hid till morning and took the first bus to L.A.. I visited a day with Ari and hitched up to join Amy and Josh in Berkely.

I was picked up by some heads and they gave me a couple of hits of acid and I gave them some crystals in return we parted and I decided to take the acid and hitch all night.

CRAZY NIGHT

I was picked up by three people in a pick up truck. They filled the front seat and told me to hop into the camper in the back. In about 15 minutes they left the highway and I asked what was up. "Just getting gas.", they explained but I watched as we passed a few open gas stations. We got to downtown and they turned around and stalled. They said they needed my help to push start the truck. I asked again about the gas and they told me that they planned to syphon some out of a truck at a construction site. I didn't like it but was a long way from the highway so I explained that I'd just sit in the back until it was done and then they could please drop me off back at the highway. The construction site was right in the middle of downtown and these guys couldn't figure out how to syphon the gas. They made loads of noise swearing and kicking the truck. This went on for over and hour when they decided to cut the rubber hose under the gas tank and let it drain out. One guy cut it and had to fold the end to stop the gas while he yelled at the other guy to find a bucket. The other guy just yelled back about not being able to find one. These guys were going to get busted and I didn't need more trouble with the California police. I grabbed my guitar and bag when I noticed a mob of guys all wearing dark blue T-shirts with collars with white emblems on them above the heart. They looked like the T.V. show cops. I was the only one in view and I showed them my hitch hiking guitar and said "I'm just hitching."

"What's going on here?" the big fat ugly one in the front said.

"Just looking for a place to camp the night, just travelling through. Oh, no trouble, we can go somewhere else, honest mistake."

"Who's we?" he asked and I didn't know.

"Just me and John." I said, "John. Some guys want to see you."

He jumped into the truck, released the brake, glided down the hill and released the clutch. The truck shuddered and started and he was gone. The other guy ran. I was standing there in front of a mob of bouncers from the bar next door, the truck that they were trying to steal gas from was pissing gas from the cut line into a huge puddle of gasoline on the ground.

"Trying to burn us down?", said the big ugly guy as he grabbed my arm and started dragging me into the back alley.

I tried to explain but they were slowly cornering me into the alley and I ran with my bag and guitar til I was far from them. I wandered around in the middle of the night in the middle of this big, dirty, dangerous city. I saw the construction sight had cops and fire trucks galore. This was becoming one crazy acid trip and I was really high. Trying to avoid cops I took the side streets but afraid of meeting up with gangs I wanted to be on the main street. I came across a laundry mat with the lights on. There were 3 guys cleaning the whole place. I banged on the door and said "Please let me in! I'll work for free all night, please let me in!".

The boss opened the door and looked me over. "O.K.", he says, "But anything you find is mine."

I didn't know what he meant but I agreed anyways.

We spent about 4 hours dumping all the lint on the floor and sifting throgh it with rakes. We found jewelery and change and I faithfully handed all my finds over to the boss. When they were satisfied that everything had been found we shovelled up the lint and spent about an hour or two cleaning the whole place. By this time morning had come. They bought me breakfast and dropped me off at the highway. Afraid of the cops, I gave them my hitch hiking guitar and headed straight for the Canadian border, B.C. and Toronto.

TO SERVE AND PROTECT, THEIR JOBS.

I worked for the rest of winter in Toronto and the first day of may was sunny and warm. I brought my knapsack to work and left at noon for the highway. I was picked up on the west side of Winnipeg by a guy heading home to Edmonton. I decided to go as far as Calgary with him where he would turn north and I would continue west. At Brooks Alberta, About an hour from Calgary, we got a flat tire. I got out and fixed it and the driver decided that it was late and he was going to get a hotel. I was covered in grease from the wheel and offered him $10 to share the room. We got a room and I took a shower. When I came out of the shower he was already asleep. When I awoke in the morning he was gone, so was my jacket, knapsack and hitch hiking guitar. He took my money and my means to make more, my guitar. I went to the front desk and told them what happened and asked to see his registration to find out his name and adress. They wouldn't give it to me and told me to call the police instead of bothering them. I don't like calling the police because they usually do nothing and this was no exception. An R.C.M.P. from Brooks came and gave me the information and told me that probabaly the name and adress were fake. I asked that she would check anyways of course and she said she would send the information to Edmonton.

So I stuck out my thumb and headed for Edmonton. When I got there I went to the downtown police station and told them about what happened. They said they hadn't heard from the R.C.M.P. and I called her collect from a phone booth outside. She said that she had been busy and would send it tommorrow. I went back to the police station to tell them this and they told me to wait. I waited around for hours and a cop finnally told me that nothing was going to happen today I should come back tommorrow. Where should I go, I asked my money and sleeping bag were gone. He gave me directions to the shelter around the block and I was brought in and housed among the deralics and pscitophrenics. I went back to the cop station in the morning and waited all day. They hadn't heard from the R.C.M.P. and I decided to call again. This time she yelled at me and told me that if I have been to the city police they would handle it. I gave the city police the guy's adress and they told me that since I had talked to the R.C.M.P., they would handle it. I tried to explain that nothing was being done and I told them that I would stay there until they did something. I waited a week sitting in the police station all day and leaving only to sleep at the shelter. I finnally went up to the lady at the desk and said "If he robbed a bank of a million bucks, you would find him even though the bank had many more millions. This guy took my everything!".

She heard me. She asked me for the adress again and made a call. A police car went there and reported back to us that his car was there and they were going to knock on the door. A couple of minutes later they radioed back and said that he said he didn't do it. That was that. Police investigation, the science. "Did you do it?","No.","Sorry to bother you.".

So the police had handled it and I took his adress and picked up a big stick and headed to find my guitar. It was a long walk and I cooled down some. I didn't really feel like beating someone on the head with a stick. I had passed a synogogue earlier and went back.

EDMONTON

I asked to speak with the rabbi and I told him my story. He asked if I could play Bob Dylan songs and I said sure, what's that got to do with anything. He told me that god had sent me to him to teach him Bob Dylan on guitar. He gave me $200 and told me to get a hotel. $1 was a treat in my situation and I decided not to waste the money on a hotel. I went back to the shelter but didn't sleep well having all that money on me. The next morning I went back to the rabbi and we called the Jewish Community Centre and they offered me a job cutting the grass. I cut it the first day and asked my boss what was next. He told me to hide and hang out until it need to be cut again and next time do it slower. I would rather work and I didn't last long there. I bought a cheap guitar and camped in the valley near the center.

I called my parents when I quit my job and they told me that my uncle Pecry owned a factory in Edmonton and there was a job for me there. I went there and was to start that evening. The job was just a temporary summer position and I rented a room in a Frat house near the University for the summer. The shift was 4 p.m. to 2:30 a.m. Monday to Thursday. Ther was no buses at 2:30 but apparantly Al rode his bike to work every day. I borrowed a broken old bike left outside of the frat house to be stolen instead of thrown away. I hadn't ridden a bike for years and this was a 25 mile return trip not to mention lifting heavy bags all night long. Boyd was boss of the shift and a hard worker. Al, later called Bert, was my co-worker in charge of keeping us both busy. The job was loading blenders with flour and spices and packaging it in 25 to 30 kilogram bags. We made binders and fillers for local meat companies to put in their hotdogs, spices for potato chips and french fries and other assorted batches.

Many batches started with a few hundered kilos of salt and then concentrated food oils were blended with the salt. Pouring the oil was a gentle business. You had to be careful to pour it slowly down the side of the blender and not to let it clump up on the blades. It took some learning and my second night I had a pail of about 15 kilos of capscum oil. Capscum oil is the active ingerdient in bear spray and that is only 10%. My pail was 100% hot stuff. The smell was so strong it hurt to breath it in and my eyes watered as soon as it flowed making the pouring slow. While I was pouring the oil I saw Bert climb up the other blender and place his bucket inside the blender and tipped it against the wall. He poured out his oil in no time at all and I had to try it. What I should have paid attention to was that Bert's blender was bigger and his oil bucket was smaller. When I put my bucket in the blender the blades of the blender hit the bucket and splashed the oil all over me. I was orange from the chest down and I had been warned about this stuff earlier. I showed boss what I did and asked if I should shower. He said yea and after I went upstairs he was apparently rolling on the ground laughing. The capscum had soaked through my clothes and my skin was all orange. I hopped in the shower and the color wouldn't come off so I hopped into clean work clothes and headed back downstairs. On the way downstairs I started to feel pretty hot. By the time I got in the blending room I was so hot I only took a second to tell Bert that I'm going back to the shower. I was burning hot for quite a while. The shower was full blast cold and it only soothed a bit. I cupped my hands under my balls to keep a constant supply of fresh water on my most tender spots. After about an hour I went back to work and by the end of the evening it was pretty well all better, I was still orange for days and hot showers brought the oil out and active, but it was over. Initiation complete. I was part of nightshift.

Bert, Boyd and I all worked hard to keep up with each other and soon became known as the dream team. Never has a team been as finely tuned! We knew where each other was or would be, we knew the equipment, supplies and help each other would need and were always ready that minute. We got quicker and quicker at our job and we were soon doing three and four times what day shift did and they had six to eight guys on production.

Bert told me that the museum was free on Tuesdays and we decided to go one time. They have a frontier exhibit of pioneer tools and wares. They were dated not even 100 years ago and I realized how quickly we've screwed up the planet but for the first time I felt a real hope that we could change again for the better.

Look what we've done to our skies and our trees

Look what we've done to the rivers and seas

Feel for the earth she's been raped and abused

And shame for our species, their power misused.

And it's only been 100 years give or take a few.

We must change again real quick, what else can we do?

Let's take our world and take care of it,

Realize what we know.

We've got lots of fixing to do if

We'd like our kids to grow.

I wrote this next song about moving into the factory and my recent failures at hitch hiking. It succeeded Omann the Hitch Hiking Guitar as my new hitch hiking tune.

As I pointed my thumb up to the sky , a car approached me slow

He said "Where are you going", I said "Twenty years ago."

"I can take you twenty miles" he said, "And I know that's fairly near"

"But you're welcome to come home with me for dinner and some beer."

"Thank you very kindly sir." I said to be polite,

"But time is what I've wasted and I must get there tonight."

"What is your occupation, son, what is it you do?"

"I've been occupied by freedom thoughts while living in a zoo."

"I can get you a job if you like at the local cannery,

I've worked there all my life they've been very good to me."

"Thanks again but I don't like cans in fact I just got out.

Twenty years in prison, just for having doubts."

"Yeah, twenty years locked in a land, run by crazy cheats,

Where the paths of men are so crowded they've turned them into streets.

A thousand people all on one path so horny to get where they're going

A thousand and ten coming back again and the numbers just keep on growing."

"Please, please save a tree for me to sit under and spend my days

I aint into those crazy cannery folks and there crazy cannery ways."

I was getting real exited and the driver looked afraid.

I guess it wasn't nice of me to make fun of this man's trade.

He let me out at the cannery as he went back to work.

I guess that he's an idiot and I guess that I'm a jerk.

The men poured into the cannery and the smoke poured from the stack

I was twenty miles closer and there aint no turning back

No, there aint no turning back.

I was also feeling lonely living in the big city without a girlfriend. My thoughts turned to Anne and how sweet love was when we were young.

The last time I saw you I was trying to be reserved.

I acted like everything's O.K. to show you I've matured.

I don't know why I didn't flip and show you the excitement you deserved.

Well I've seen alot of the world and I've grown alot since then.

Screw it all we had a great happiness Let's be kids again.

Your love for me made me feel so special, and your beauty blew me away.

You're as natural as the forest, I'd like to live in someday.

Globetrotters and falafel, horse rides and Algonquin.

It was all so beautiful. Let's be kids again.

No one new could love me, the way we loved each other

We grew so much together it's time that we were lovers

I'm very alone, just me and my thoughts and woman you always tusted me

I need that kind of confidence cause this bastard world has busted me.

Everythings not O.K. I've tried my best and I'm feeling very old

Please woman lie down next to me protect me from the cold.

I need some one to cry to, I need some one to hold.

For you I'll dance and play and sing and love you to the end

Let's grow old together let's be kids again.

I sent her the song and she wrote back for me to stay away. I haven't talked to her since but I've tried to write a few letters.

BUSTED

One night Bert and I were riding our bikes home from work. We stopped at our usual spot for the after work joint. Where we always stopped was the spot with the best access to a clear view of the sky. This night the northern lights were incredible. The whole sky was full of green streaks leaping, dancing and fading with incredible speed that kept you jerking your head around to see it all happen. As we rode home we unknowingly passed Lance Cory. Lance Cory was hiding in the shadows, sitting in his car. He thought we looked suspicious and radioed he the police. It was 3 in the morning and he does this for fun without pay. We were victims of this paranoid insomniac. Apparently constable Tessier followed us seven miles in his car. Hiding behind other cars watching Bert and I ride our bikes, stopping often to look up at the sky. We stopped again and a car swerved drunken like towards us with the drivers window open.

"What's up." I asked figuring that this was some one drunk hopefully just wanting directions.

"We'll see." He says and jumps out of his car, "What's in the bags?", he said referring to our knapsacks.

Lance had pulled his car in so that the two cars boxed us in with the head lights pointing at us. Tessier was searching through Al's bag checking every pocket and he pulled out Al's bit of mushrooms and pot and he also pulled out Al's money. He asked what he would find on me and I handed him my small amount of hash. Al and I thought that we were being mugged and we wrote down Tessier's liscence plate number. I remembered one of the frat guys who worked security saying that they used to shake down kids to get free dope. Bert thought of the greek gangs of where his girlfriend worked and figured that this was like something they would do. Either way we were being bullied by two big guys who seemed to not want to hurt us, just steal our stuff. We played it cool and waited it out. We were each pulled seperately into Tessier's car. It was obviously not a police car. It had a C.D. player stereo and no cop radio or computer console. Bert mentioned the radio also and after they were done with us they gave us an offical looking piece of paper that he called our notice to appear. He pointed to the date and we decided to show up and see if this was for real.

That day we went to court and there were our names on the roster. We decided to plea guilty for an easiest way out. We searched for duty counsel, who was late, and we asked him about the nicest way to plea quilty. Do we appologize or maybe mention what hard workers we were? Do we state our opinion of the harmless of marajuana and the usefulness of hemp? Probably not.

Duty counsel told us to tel him what happened. We went through the story and he said "They can't do that! Go over there and book a court date and plead not guilty when they call your names."

SO WE FOUGHT IT

About 50 people were briefly heard at court this morning. First those with lawyers were called because lawyers are busy. Then the rest of us. We even got good treatment when we told the court people organizer that we had to get to work. She put us right after the lawyers.

A name would be called and in a strict edicate the lawyer would stand up and say something like "Good day, your honor, I will be representing the defendant. My name is Joe Schiester, S-C-H-I-E-S-T-E-R, first initial J. I work for the firm Schiester and Sinners.", and so on went our introduction to legal jargin. It was actually pretty intimidating. We were going to have to stand up avoid saying "Yea man, this sucks. We aint guilty."

We asked duty counsel to speak on our behalf and he did.

After The lawyer introduces himself, the crown prosecuter reads the charges and a brief discription of what the police report says. The accused then is asked how they plea. The judge seemed happiest when the answer was "Not guilty". This was quickest and the judge was finnished when the room was empty. The crown and the lawyer had earlier discussed whether or not the accused should be allowed to walk out and return on his own for the scheduled court date. Deals were made like, reporting to a probation officer, staying away from booze and other previously convicted people and even bail was already negotiated where it was felt nessecary by the crown. I remember the crown once pointed out that one accused had lived at four different addresses in the past two years and he was taken into custody. I had always wanted, up til then, to have "Transient" put on my drivers liscence where the adress goes. Anyways a "Not guilty" plea goes quicker than a "Guilty" plea. A court date had already been booked and everything was all arranged. The judge just signed the paper handed to him, flipped the page, and the next name was called. However, if they plea was "Guilty" he gave a sigh and had to hear the whole thing through.

The crown would call the arresting officer and ask him his name, badge number, how long he had been a cop, division he was working for, the rank he held the day of the crime and please tell us what happened that day. The cop told his story and the defending lawyer got his chance to ask the cop questions to make the sentencing easier like "Was the accused polite? Did he resist? You never actually witnessed a sale did you?".

The crown would once again have a chance to ask the cop questions to counter those of the defence. "Did he have the oppertunity to resist? Did you find lots of money as well as a pound of dope cut into one gram pieces?".

After questions were done and each peice of evidence indentified numerous times by a long number slowly read and confirmed, the judge would ask about prior convictions. The crown would read the list and if it were a drug charge and there was previous violence or theft on record, these were considered "Unrelated priors". If there were related priors but the defendant paid his dues and it was more than two years ago the charge was usually treated as a first offence again.

The defence got one last chance to say something nice about his client, "He works hard, supports a family, loves his mother, etc.".

Once again the crown and the defence had teamed and dealed to get a suggestion for the judge of what the charge should be and he usaully accepted what they said. For the example of drugs, the fine was usually equal to woth of the amount of drugs. There was also a 10% "victim charge" due immediately in cash. For drugs people were given generally much less time to pay under the assumption that if they could afford the drugs the could afford the fine, but for large quantities being trafficked I, myself, would assume that the now confiscated drugs were only in possession on a front. Money due when you sell it all. Now without the drugs and a fine of equal amount due soon, the defendant probalby doesn't know any other way to make that much money quickly or he wouldn't be selling drugs in the first place.

Duty counsel spoke on our behalf and we were pleaded as "Not quilty". Our trail date was recorded and we were free to go. We asked the duty counsel what was next and he explained that he was only there by obligation and every lawyer does a day a year or so as duty counsel. He suggested that we hire a lawyer and gave us his card.

We were already to afraid to even say "Not guilty" by ourselves so we didn't consider representing ourselves. We knew from the foriegnness of the courtroom language that we needed a lawyer.

I talked to legal aid who told me that I could arrive early, wait in line and doubtfully get a loan to hire an expensive lawyer and still be responsible to repay the thousands that it would cost. Our maximum punishment was probably only a $250 fine so this didn't seem like an intelligent alternative. I decided to make noise. We couldn't be the only ones screwed by the system like this, others would hear me and help however possible, I just had to make noise. I also needed somewhere else to live, summer was over and pleading not guilty meant I had to stick around for the court date.

MEETING JEN AND RENE

I got another housing list from the university and checked out four or five different places. One of them said "One bedroom to rent in two bedroom apartment, contact Jen and Rene." I figured that it was two girls and I went there first. A hippy looking guy answered the door and I asked for Jen or Rene. "I'm Rene." says he, oh well, let's see the place. He and his girlfriend had rented this apartment with a friend who later moved out so they were trying to rent out his room. They seemed nice, there were a few guitars around and they seemed as though they probably smoked pot. I checked the other places out but I decided on living with Jen and Rene and I moved in the next day. Jen was working in a high fashion store selling ladies clothes and Rene had returned to high school to finnish his diploma. I was working nights so we didn't see each other much to start but we grew to be family.

THE FIGHT CONTINUES

I needed a lawyer and I figured that making noise and drawing attention to my legal problems might help me out. I thought of a stunt that the press would flock to. I called all the newspapers, radio and T.V. stations in the yellow pages. I told them of my situation. How I've been wronged by the very system that I break my back each night at work to support. I told them that I planned to play guitar downtown in my underwear (in the middle of winter) to try to raise money for a lawyer. I borrowed a pair of red cover-all long johns and had alot of other layers on underneath. I was also wearing a scarf, hat, and gloves that I had cut the fingers out of. I made a little alcove out of cardboard and tape and wrote my cause in black marker all over it.

"YOU HAVE A RIGHT TO AN ATTOURNEY, or do you?", was the main message.

I had once called Human Rights and told them how my rights had been abused. How I was unreasonably searched, how I can't afford or get legal counsel. I told them the whole story and when I was done I was asked which minority I belonged to. When I asked if Jewish counted they said sorry there's nothing they can do for me. I protested out infront of their head quarters downtown with a sign saying that rights weren't for minorities only. Touchy topics make good noise.

I hung out with a bucket for change at my feet. I made only about 30 or 40 dollars but I made alot of noise and someone suggested that I call the student lawyers at U. of A., they were free. I called and made an appointment for Al and I and we went in to meet them.

LOOK OUT FOR STUDENT LAWYERS

Debbie Anderson and a couple of trainees listened to our story. She told us that they were our lawyers and stressed how important it was that we tell the truth. Then she told one trainee to check if there are really northern lights in the summer time. So that was it, apperantly we had legal representation. She told us that the next step was to get the crown's release and police report and that would take a couple of weeks. A couple of weeks I called back and they hadn't arrived. I tried a week later and talked to Debbie who told me to leave her alone and I didn't want to piss of our lawyer so I did. A couple of weeks later again I called

her back to ask how things were going. She told me that things were going fine leave her alone. She told me that I needed a serious change of attitude and she completely ragged on me for half an hour on the phone. I didn't really want to stand for this and she seemed a little to insane to be a good lawyer but she was free. I also didn't want to screw things up for Al and leave him lawyerless. I appologized over and over to Debbie just trying to get her off the phone peacefully and quickly. I explained that I didn't understand what I had done wrong but I promised to behave any way she liked. She told me that that wasn't good enough, I told her to call Al.

Al's court date came first. We dressed nicely and met Debbie and the trainees in the sub-court cafe an hour before the trail. Debbie asked Al his name, age and what happened again and she took notes. One university buddy of hers passed by and said hello. Still sitting at the table, Debbie said that it was nice to see her. She told this friend, but not us, that she had a trail today and had lost the file. She giggled and shrugged her shoulders and said "Guess I'll just wing it.", and with that vote of confidence we went to trail. The trail started in it's usual rituals of introductions and statements and I was glad we had a lawyer and was happy this was almost over. As Tessier was reading his police report he got to the point of asking Al what was in his bag. Debbie stopped Tessier at a point that he was saying "Then Al said..". She said to the judge that at this point she would like to do some french word meaning a trail within a trail (note of edit: the word was voir dire). She had explained to us earlier that this was to put on trail wether or not the evidence was admissable due to a lousy search. The Judge however, thought that she was trying the admissability of what Al said next. The judge just got confused and then frusterated and finally interupted Debbie and told her that he didn't see her point and he was going to allow Al's next statement. He instructed Tessier to tell us all what Al said next. Tessier read, "My lunch."

The judge was obviously angry with this and then trail continued. A few times the quantity of pot that Al had was mentioned as being 11 grams and we only had a gram each. I mentioned this to one of the trainees and he shushed me as he sat watching with great interest he whispered, "Don't worry, Debbie's really good. She's got him now.".

I watched quietly as not much went on and I began to wonder if we should have just represented ourselves. Finally at the end of the trail, poor Al almost jumping out of his seat to say that he only had a little bit of pot not 11 grams, was hit by Debbie, she told him to shut up and to explained the outbreak of emotions, fear, to the court, she said in embarrassment, "There seems to be a disagreement about the amount of marajauna Your Honor.". I think it could have been the only statement in Al's defence that she ever made. The judge didn't care any more and had had enough of this. On his first offence, Al was given a $250 fine and had to pay an additional $25 victim charge even though he was the victim. Debbie left hurriedly from court but I got close enough to yell with a big smile "You're fired!", I decided to represent myself. I couldn't do any worse.

SELF REPRESENTATION

I called Debbie to get the police reports and the crown's disclosure for my case and she refused. I called the crown and they told me that I had to get them from my lawyer. After weeks of arguing and explaining, I was finnally given the nessecary paperwork that I was entitled to. My trail was the day after Al's and when I asked to postpone it because I hadn't even seen the police report the judge gave me a hard time about not getting it and suggested strongly that I needed a lawyer. Al was leaving to travel in Europe and this was mentioned and I was booked in for the Friday afternoon before he left. I later found out that the judges like to keep Friday afternoons free. In fact I wrote down a quote of Judge Dube (pronounced Doo-bay not to be confused with Doobie) who was later to be my judge. The situation was like this, I was going to watch court to learn to be familiar with the jargon and procedings. A new lawyer, fresh out of school, was co-representing a trail on December third, '92. It was his first time in court and his client was being charged with possession of prescription drugs. Her doctor was on holidays and all he had to do was book a later trail until they could get confirmation from the doctor. He mentioned an opening on December 13 in the afternoon. Everybody laughed at him at neither he nor I got the joke. "That's a Friday afternoon.", the judge explained. "Yes, Your Honor.", he meekly agreed still oblivious to the joke and probably curious to the near roaring laughter from all the court staff.

"Son,", said the judge fatherly, "if you're going to be a lawyer you've got to learn that you're not going to get a fair trail on a Friday afternoon.". I wrote down quotes like this and now I'm glad I did.

Seeing the police report I realized what a truely lousy job Debbie did. It was all lies. Every statement in the report was wrong. It read like a routine bust, I turned on the cherry ball siren, showed them my badge, identified myself as a cop, asked permission to search the bags, they said "Sure", found marajauna and hash.

The found drugs was right but they called mine 10 grams and Al's 11. We figured that they must of misread the decimal point and it was really only 1.0 and 1.1 grams, but that's a big difference. Could be the difference between possession and trafficking. I believe Debbie should said something.

My time became dedicated to my defense. I got home each night at about 3 a.m. and slept a few hours then woke, shaved and showered and walked the 25 block to court each morniing. I would sit in the back and take notes. In the afternoons I went to libraries and had meetings with politicians and any legal person who would book me in. Ross Harvey, who later ran for head of Albertra N.D.P. told me straight forward that his job was to get re-elected, if he were to do something about anything, somebody somewhere would be offended. They all had the same attitude, bunch of dogs. This song came around then:

Officer please let me be. I"m not your job bestill your key.

I'm very frightened being me And you protect me from being free

All you fucking legal whores Don't judge my life, cause it aint yours.

Come on now I've paid my dues. I've felt your wrath, I'm afraid of yyou.

But laws are for everyone even you Drunk from power is nothing new

All you fucking legal whores Don't judge my life, cause it aint yours.

Come on judge what can't you see, I'm standing here now it's just me.

If you think I'm bad you're a lousy judge. What's your beef man what's your grudge?

All you fucking legal whores Don't judge my life, cause it aint yours.

Leave me alone hey let me go. I just came by to see the show.

I got better thing to do you know, And this sucks so

All you fucking legal whores Don't judge my life, cause it aint yours.

and this is probably also a good time to introduce the Under cover Hero of the Suburbs, it never got finnished.

I'll tell you a tale and I'll tell you it's true, T'was Edmonton 1992

The middle of August and the moon was new And the northern lights shined light they do

And criminals soon would be paying their dues Cause the Undercover Hero, was shining his shoes.

Night shift had ended for Al and I Two unsuspecting criminals who love to get high.

We saddled our bikes and parked cars we passed by And we'd stop on occassion and look at the sky

Unsuspicious actions to the unsuspicious eye But the Undercover Hero, was straightening his tie.

Lance Corey was on his usual run, Concerned we were looking for crimes to be done.

The radioman announced "The night has begun Two cyclist have enter secret sector Alpha-one."

The man with out fear replied "Sounds like fun." As the Undercover Hero, then holstered his gun.

A silent survielance from 10 blocks away, The Undercover Hero was watching his prey.

Amungst other cars and shadows he lay, We stopped to look up for a moment we'd stay

And watch the northern lights as they'd dance and sway, Back on earth our Hero, was blocking our way.

"What's up?", I asked with the cheer of the night. "We'll see.", He said and grooved on our fright

And he was into Al's bag quicker than light. Like a pit pull he had us we were locked in his bite

I guess we were to scared to put up a fight. When we cooled down we thought, "Hey man, we got rights!"

The courtroom was a factory with a guilty plea cut rate So we talked to duty council who was twenty minutes late

And twenty minutes later we booked a court date We hired us free lawyers who said they'd litigate

I inquired how things were going and that made them irate Debbie Anderson, student law, was mean and overweight.

Debbie was the best and more than we could bear Lawyers are genetically better than those with long hair

She was so well intelligent, she didn't even care. When she tried to tell the judge what was really fair

The judge raised his gavel and swung it in the air. The Undercover Hero, was plugging in the chair.

I called greenpeace and asked to borrow a lawyer and they told me that they had bigger fish to save than me.

FILING A COMPLAINT

I was at a party with Al when some one told me that if I file a complaint with the police department it goes straight to the chief of police to be dealt with. I was already doubtful of the usefulness of the police when it came to persuing justice and things like that but chief sounded like a serious title. So I wrote a simple letter saying that the police report was wrong, Al and I were both there and we can both tell you what happened and the report can get me into big trouble, please do something.

About 3 weeks later at 7 a.m. on a Sunday, I get a call from a guy who says he works for the chief and wanted to talk to me about my complaint. He asked me what happened and I told him. He said that it sounds like I've had trouble with the police before. He asked me to tell him about them and after each story of injustices against me he asked for another. After about 7 stories and probably half an hour, I told him that there were more but I felt that I had answered his questions. He told me that I was paranoid and should seek proffessional help. I asked if this was his official conclusion and he said yes and I thanked him and said goodbye. I called Al but the line was busy early Sunday morning. I know that Al has lots of hangovers on Sunday mornings so I figured that he was talking to another chief's helper. I called back and the same diagnosis at dawn was given to Al.

Weeks later we got a letter each from the chief of police, Doug McNally. He informed us that he spoke with Tessier and felt that he had acted appropriately. What about the report? He probably never even read the complaint. I never mentioned how Tessier acted I just said that the report was wrong, Bert and I had both given simotaneous Sunday sunrise statements, he should have seen the truth, investigators and detectives and all, he must have at least understood.

THE LAW ENFORCEMENT REVIEW BOARD

Along with the chiefs letter came a flyer from the Law Enforcement Review Board saying that if I wasn't happy with how my complaint was handled I could call them. I did. They told me to write down everything that happened. I told them that I had already done that so many times and it hasn't done any good, why should I do it again? They told me that it sounds like I've got a case and assured me that they weren't the police, they were the police of the police. Just another government office I still had no faith but I told them I would write it all down again and deliver it personally.

I was probably really stoned but I enjoyed this letter alot. It was very dramatic. I mention at one point "...then constable Tessier leaped from his car with his gun in place.". They never asked me what I meant by that and I was glad because I never saw his gun but I'm sure it was in place. They loved my story and called me in, but this happened later.

KEEP FIGHTING

My afternoon research was spent looking up cases to use as precedent and it took alot of learning just to find anything than tonnes more just to understand what I found. I called the science center and asked them about records of northern lights. They said that they only record what has been reported and no one had reported any since last year so I asked if I could report seeing them the night of the bust and I picked up a copy of the report before going to court. I also contacted the university and the told me of a machine they have (probably a very expensive one) that recorded ionic disturbances and it could tell me everything about the northern lights that night and I made and appointment to pick up a print out. When I did, the expensive machine said that there weren't any northern lights that night. I told them that I really saw them and I know the date and time were right, they insisted that I was wrong and I just stuck to the science center's report. Government institutions.

In the police report Tessier mentioned that he put the portable red flashing light on his dashboard before approaching us but at Al's trail he said it was blue. I called and tried to get the transcripts from the trail. It was going to cost me hundreds of dollars so I didn't but lawyers get them free.

Tessier also said in Al's trail that he watched us from 10 blocks away. I called the big camera places around town and asked what kind of binoculars you would need to see that distance at night. They told me that only very specialized and expensive ones would do it and it would still be hard to identify people at that range. I asked him to write it down on company staionary and I would pick it up. He asked what for and chickend out when I told him.

I had seen alot of people, represented by lawyers, doing a plea bargain. Booking a whole day in court and then saying that they were still pleading not guilty to trafficking but were willing to save the court some valuable time by pleading guilty to the lesser charge of possession,like the judge is paid by the hour. It is always arranged ahead of time with the crown and the witnesses are told not to even show. The judge agrees, the crown mentions the recommended and already agreed upon fine and everyone gets to go home, except sometimes the defendant.

Once in court I saw a guy who had been charged with trafficking. He sold a supposed two grams of hash to a undercover cop in Edmontons downtown drug buying park. It only weighed .8 of a gram so not only did he sell dope directly to a cop but he ripped him off. The lawyer offered a plea bargain and the judge happily took it. He was charged with possession of just .8 of a gram and given a $200 fine! Even I would have charged him with possession of 2 grams.

STUTTER!

Realizing that the best outcome possible came from how the judge got to spend his afternoon, I thought about stuttering in court. Surely that couldn't be illegal. I went into a hospital emergency room on my way home from court that day and stuttered my way to the counter. Everyone was so sweet to me and they brought me to a bed to see a doctor. I told him, in a stutter, that I was having a difficult time finding a job because I get nervous and can't talk to the potential boss. I asked him for a note that I could take with me. He wrote me a note adressed to the Workman's Compensation Board saying that I couldn't work. I passed on that meal ticket and lay off a bit on the stutter and explained that I could work and I just want a note saying that my stutter is caused by stress and otherwise I'm physically fit. He wrote me a letter saying just that and I was confident that it was all that I needed to prove to the judge that I had a stutter and if I could fool a doctor I would be O.K. in court.

Next I went through tonnes of medical journals, which also took alot of patience to understand, trying to find something saying that marajauna relieved stress. I thought that it would be easy to find but it wasn't. Every medical experiment I read about said that mice and rats may have relaxed some but when we gave them lots more they got agitated. I found a book on stuttering written by a doctor who mentions that he had success calming his stutter with pot but then he found god. Amatuer toker might not actually make me look good in court.

I was really looking forward to stuttering and spitting on Tessier who would surely protest that I didn't stutter the night that I was arrested. I was stoned, please give me back my drugs. I was also frightened of losing my cool in court and exposing my lie and my research hadn't gone well so I decided to abandon the idea but now I wish that I didn't.

WORK PISSES ME OFF

I went into the office one day at work to get new blades for my knife and an article about me was on the bosses desk.

Excited a bit, I said "Hey, you saw my article."

The line that said "he works in a spice factory on the east side of town." was highlighted neatly.

The boss puts his fingers together and said "You came this close," to naming the company is what he meant, like they should be ashamed of me working there. When asked where I worked by the reporter I told them this to avoid mentioning the name of the company just for the sake of courtesy and yea they should've been proud. But even this was causing a stir. I should've mentioned their name and they should've called the papers themselves and said what a loyal and hard worker I was but they were embarassed by the possible connections some one might make.

I yelled at that dog and said "Where were your lawyers? My rights were violated! Why didn't the company stick up for me? Leave me to do it myself and I'll do it my own way!", and I did do a good job.

The boss said "It says here that you had it on your way home, that means you had it at work and we don't want you bringing your drugs to work."

So I told him to build me a safe outside where I can put my stash when I work because the company wouldn't want to see the money I earned here stolen from me. I told him that the last thing I do before stepping into the building and the first thing I do when I leave is smoke a joint, some times huge joints. He never had any reason to complain about my work before and I waited until I had his permission to keep my stash in my locker before I left the office. I also made sure that we agreed that my locker was my locker.

THE TRAIL

I wanted Lance Cory, the citizen patrol guy who called us in, to be in court for questioning and hopefully he would contradict Tessier. I tried to supeona him but not being a lawyer I was given no respect so one night at work I looked him up in the phone book and called his house. I left a message on his answering machine saying that his presence was required in court tommorrow morning, and he came.

There were a couple of people before me and the time went on as I watched the clock ready to defend myself. I had bought a briefcase and had loads of paper work to use to fill it. I wanted to paint not guilty on my ass in case of trouble but I decided that it was best not to have the temptation. At 4 o'clock Friday afternoon, the judge had forgotten about me. He finnished his trail and when I spoke up he told me to postpone it again. I told him that Al was leaving to Europe and that's why we made the date today. He said O.K. buut I had only a half hour because his secretary had a dental appointment. I didn't understand the relationship between my trail and her teeth but I realized that there wasn't much time and things got under way.

For the first 25 minutes the crown questioned the cop. What am I to do. When they presented the evidence I objected. In any other trail the evidence must be agreed upon by both sides or have a judgement made on it to be admitted as evidence. I deserve the right to argue the evidence. They can mention their lab reports that say it's hash but I know that theres an arguement when it comes to the weight. If I O.K.'d the analysis then the amount would stand at 10 grams. I told the judge that I had brought a scale from work, accurate to 1/1,000 of a gram, and as I pulled it out the judge told me to put it away and told the clerk to record the evidence as exhibit A.

I asked the judge if Al could speak now and we could finnish the trail another time. He said no, one trail only. If I called Al to witness now, Tessier would step off the witness stand an I would loose my chance to ask him questions.

Tessier had said that he thought we were breaking into cars and stealing radios. I asked him if he saw us going into cars, he said no. I asked him if he saw us even touch a car, because we hadn't, he said no. I asked him if he saw us go into our knapsacks that he searched, becasue we didn't, he said no. I asked him if he ever saw us get off of our bikes, because we didn't, he said "Let me tell you something about serveilance. I have to hide in the shadows so that you don't see me, blah, blah, blah."

"Please answer the question with a simple yes or no. Did you ever see us get off of our bikes?"

The judge yelled at me telling me to let him finnish. "Go ahead" said the judge, "Well I was actually done." said Tessier.

"O.K. did you ever see us getting off of our bikes", because we didn't and he said no.

I asked him other questions but I was taking up valuable time. It was already past 4:30. I tried something quickly but it went right over the judges head. I told the judge that I needed to call myself as a witness but seeing as I couldn't do that, being my own lawyer, this was obviously a mistrail, how could it go on? He didn't understand what I was saying but I think it would make a good legal arguement. Any ways I dropped it and was prepared for that. I took the stand and was sworn in on a bible, which by the way states on page one that all seed bearing plants were created for man. I looked at the clock and it was almost 5 o'clock. I gave up all of my preparations and simply spoke my head. I told the judge that the cop had lied, I'm nobody bad, and it was illegal the way I was busted but I think my time is up. He found me guilty and mentioned my prior records, all unrelated charges many years ago, I yelled it out. He said that I showed no remorse for my crime and he was right. He acted like he was going to throw the book at me and then gave me a $150 fine. The only good thing was I had done $100 better than Debbie defending did Al who had no criminal record.

My friends told me that I did well but I was bummed about the whole thing. It was far from a fair trail and even the judge ignored my rights but it was obvious that that's how court works. If you don't trust the cops, judges will never get to go home early. I also realized that there was no sense in appealling the decision.

BERT LEAVES FOR EUROPE, RENE TAKES HIS PLACE AT U.F.L.

Bert left for Europe and Rene took his place at U.F.L., the factory.

TIM

On Jen's birthday, her Rene and I went to the People's Pub to see a guitarist called Wild T. I saw a guy dancing there with a tye died T-shirt that looked like it said Terrapin, a Dead album, on it. I hadn't met any other heads in Edmonton and I stumbled, drunk, to him and grabbed the shirt.

"Does this say Terrapin?" I asked unable to focus on the Old English script.

"No, it says Serrapin, a Montreal jazz festival." he explained and I walked away.

"I know what Terrapin is!" he yelled after me and I turned around. This was Tim. We became and still are dear friends thanks to the similar warm loving of the Grateful Dead.

THE LISA MISTAKE

I called Toronto to keep them posted of my trail and when I called to tell the the verdict Rod told me that he and Lisa, an ex-girlfriend of his, had threatened to tell the cops about his grow room. I told him that she always respected me and I would talk to her. I called her and she told me that she was just angry and she would never really do that so I called Rod and told him. A few weeks later a letter came from Lisa saying how good it was to hear from me. The letter seemed full of indications that she wanted to sleep with me. I called her and thanked her for the letter and sounds like she'd like to sleep with me. She said she did and I said come on out to Edmonton and that she did. She came about a week later and we had great fun. She was beautiful and young and as Rod's girlfriend of many years, we aready knew each other really well.

I was troubled that it was Rod's ex and I called him first and asked if he would care. He said he did care and I felt that that was unfair. I loved Lisa as much as I love most people and some one beautiful and warm beside me was very needed. I told Rod that I was really hoping that my loneliness in life was over. Lisa knew me well, she knew what she was getting into, and I sincerely hoped that it lasted.

THE RETURN OF THE LAW ENFORCEMENT REVIEW BOARD

Soon I got a call from the Law Enforcement Review Board and they told to come to their office. I was going to tell them that everything was over, forget it, but I decided to go see them anyways. I was asked what charges I wanted to lay. I mentioned that falsifying documents for court is bad and charged him with that. I charged him with breaching my right to an unlawful search and I charged him with lying in court. I asked if I could charge the chief of police and they asked with what. I said he did a lousy job of answering my complaint and the whole thing is directly his responsibility. They said O.K.

This time I already knew what the outcome would be so I decided to spend my time making more noise than doing research. I called the press and told them that I was charging the cop and the chief of police. I held weekly rallies and we mostly discussed the environmental importance of hemp. The rallies grew bigger as the weeks went on. I would call each week and invite the press. Those who puffed wrote nice stories about our rallies but those who didn't made us sound like a bunch of addicts in the park ca_using trouble. Needless to say, I became picky with who I'd call. The big thing of each rally was that we had publically said that we would be smoking pot in city parks and no one tried to stop us.

Only once did we get any police resistance and it came in the form of bully cops ganging up on a few of us after a rally was already over and we were headed home. We were leaving Edmonton's Hawrelak park and when we came to a bridge over a four lane road, we held out our signs and waved to oncoming traffic. A cop on a bycicle rode up to me and asked if I had any samples. I assumed he meant pot. I told him no. He said that some one else said that I had samples so I told him to arrest that person for slandering my good name. He gave me the old "So if you don't have anything on you, I guess that I can search you then.". This is illegal. A cop must inform you that you have a right to refuse a search before asking for your consent. I told him that I didn't consent and neither does any one else. He pulled out a little book of laws and started flipping through the pages. He said well then let's see what we can charge you with. I roared on him. First he tried to weasel a consent for a search from me and now he was threatening to charge me for refusing as I have the constitutional right to do. The fact that he had to look through his book to come up with something means that I wasn't obviously breaking any laws. I gave some one some change and some phone numbers of favorite members of the press and I told him to call them and tell them what's going on. One of them arrived and by that time there were 2 cop cars and another 2 bicycle cops. They all scattered when the press introduced herself.

For Lisa's twentieth birthday I went to the zoo and told them that it was my baby's birthday. I said that I had invited 10 to 15 people and would leave them $50 at the gate and they could let in any one who mentioned our party. I asked them for only a picnic area to use and the offered me the petting zoo as the traditional place for birthday parties. Right on, we brought our guitars, had lots of food and balloons and a really great time. I bought us tickets for the Black Crows that evening and I printed up 500 flyers that talked of the usefulness of hemp, my wrongful bust and the date of my revenge. I asked that everybody please come to the court house and help me stand up for my rights the morning of my trail. I handed this out one to each row of seats and asked every one to pass it on. Eddie Keen wrote an article every day on page 5 of the Edmonton Sun. They were an Andy Rooney style of article, an educated complaint or just pointing out mass sillyness in society. He had written an article about me and promised to write another the day before the trail. They were my nicest articles, he made me sound like a real freedom fighter.

TRAIL, TRAIL AGAIN

The morning of the trail, the biggest pot rally Edmonton had ever seen happened between the court house and city hall at 9 a.m. on a weekday. I was pretty proud. Every newspaper, radio station and T.V. news team was there. The Bear, the big rock station, announced at every song break "Get on down to city hall, big smoke-in down at city hall.". I had planned for this to be an acutal smoke-in, I even figured that it was a dangerous place to puff and I ran around warning people that there were hundreds of cops within a block. But the cameras and those eager to be on T.V. won as the camera men ran around taking shots of the fattest joints and most colorful smokers.

When the trail approached I announced that I was going in and any one could join. I warned them that it would be boring but about 100 people still came in. A parade of stoned people escorted me through the courthouse and the court room filled up. People were sitting on the floor and standing in the isles. I took the ice water jugs from the judges and crown's desk and passed them around the room. I sent the court clerk for more.

I had called Lance Cory the same way as before, leaving an official sounding message on his answering machine, and again he showed up dressed all pretty. Tessier had two lawyers and the only question that they asked me was, "If your not guilty then why didn't you appeal the decision of your original trail?". I told them how shitty the first trail was and that of course I wasn't going to do it again, no matter the evidence the verdict wouldn't change. When they asked me this question they were stumped for a moment looking through their records for the judges name. I told them that it was judge Doobie that I went before and the crowd roared in laughter. I told them really that was his name and they cheered. When it was corrected to judge Dube it made little difference and we were all still laughing.

I did a good job of questioning Tessier and Lance. Many contradictions were pointed out and I enjoyed my position of accusing them. After about three hours, I had had enough fun and we finnisjed the trail. Acouple of months later I got a report from the Law Enforcement Review Board saying that, no surprise, my word against his they believe him. They also said, this time surprising, and they went into great detail that the greatest wrong in this situation was that the chief of police was suppose to answer all complaints and not pass it on to an aide. They referenced many legal chapters and subsections stating this, however, he's the chief of police and probably knows what he's doing and we'll let him go this time. It was over and I was happy of that. All in all it was many great lessons but the lesson I always knew was to avoid the fight.

GET ON WITH LIFE

Easter came and Rene nor I had done any Easter egg shopping for our girlfriends. We woke up really early and started with 7-11's and ran around picking up all chocolate bunnies and eggs we could find. We had lots of stuff but it all looked like cheesey last minute shopping so we decided to lead them on a wild treasure hunt and we wrote up the first clue and left it for the girls for when they woke up. We took some to the local grocery store and explained that our "girls" would be by with instructions to hop around like a bunny, or something, before gettin their treats. We made bags of chocolates and hid them far enough away from each other that it would give us time to hide the next. We weren't that far ahead from them and they were catching up so we sent them back home with one clue where we were waitng with the biggest of bunnies we had bought and all of the left overs in a big pile on the floor. We were a great hit and had never up to very recently admitted our well decieved lack of preparations.

I was really having fun with Lisa being around. She was very creative and artistic and she encouraged me to create along with her. In hopes that I'd never have to search for love or be lonely again, I wrote her this song, I wrote better one for another girl later if that doesn't sound insincere.

They say there's some one for every one I hope that you're for me.

Wouldn't that be wonderful, I'd finally be home free.

If we could live just like we have As long as I live I would

The thought of saying good bye again Doesn't feel real good.

I'm honest and I'm faithful And I'll be all I can,

If there's someone for every one I could be you're man.

The distance to forever Is simply day by day.

The answer to eternity Is our own happy way.

You're so beautiful and sensitive You're loving and you're kind

I'm crazy bout your body I'm crazy bout your mind.

If we keep growing together We could reach the moon.

We've come so far so quickly We've grown so much so soon.

Yea I'll treat you like my queen And I'll be sturdy as I can

If there's some one for every one I could be your man.

So let us grow with the strength And determination of trees

Picture us as big old oaks Telling stories to the breeze

Have you got the strength Cause I'll give all I can

We could do so well together I'd love to be your man.

THE STORY OF MARK KAHLEY

A friend of Lisa's, Mark, had been busted by an undercover cop on tour and was facing huge amounts of jail time and he fled to Canada. He got busted in Toronto and they were going to send him back. What had happened on tour was the undercover cop, who had puffed lots with Mark, offered him lots of money for acid which was cheap and easy to get anywhere at the show. He gave Mark a whole bunch of money and a bag of weed and asked him for a certain number of hits. No great number but getting him the specific number requested helps prove this to be entrappment, he gave the cop what he asked for. But being young, Mark didn't recognize this as being a life threatening proposition, had he been offered the same amount of money to risk his life climbing a dangerous cliff he might have said no. He faced 30 years to life without possibilities of parole on the traficking L.S.D. where murderers are usually out in 12 years. If tried in Canada, Mark would be eligible for parole in three and a half years with a maximum sentence.

Mark was very young, the justice system ahead of him was a complete tradgedy. I wrote this song when I heard the story.

Here's another tale of how nice guys finnish last,

Be 30 years to life before the end has passed,

And when you hear this story, it'll be another day

I wrote it the morning after they took her friend away.

Our villian tempted Mark one day with some dandy, stinky pot.

"I can get you more,", he says, "I can get a lot."

"I ask of one small favor thaat you can do to me,

I'll pay you very kindly if you get me L.S.D."

"No problem there.", he says, "There's plenty on the groove."

When Mark got him what he asked Mark for, our villian made his move.

Poor Mark he really fell for it, I guess he's too innocent

To realize that our villian was a drug enforcement agent.

Now mark must live in a cage policed by men with guns

For doing as he liked and never hurting any one.

I hope he learns his lesson while rotting in the brig,

Don't sell L.S.D. to strangers and never trust a pig.

I'm a peaceful loving person and I'm frightened more and more,

I'd probably have a heart attack if the cops came to my door.

While were on the topic of laws and the police department

There's one word for this story, it's fucking well entrapment!

MARK KAHLEY

Prisoner Of War On Drugs

1993

Lisa had been with me for some time now and I suggested that it was time for her to get a job. She called her mom who bought her a plane ticket back to Toronto. I was sad for a little bit but I couldn't support her and she did nothing all day but smoke my dope and watch T.V..

A month later she called and said that she was wrong and wanted to come back. I felt like an ass to say it but felt that I should and I mentioned that if she wanted to live with me she would have to get a job. I am nobody to tell anyone to get a job but I am some one who can say support yourself. She agreed and wanted to bring alot of stuff with her from Toronto. I called Toronto Drive-away and asked for a car coming to Edmonton. I flew down to Toronto and visited quickly with friends before heading out. Ron Cody had a pick up truck with a cover back for me. It was due in Cranbrook B.C. a week later and he gave me some extra time and kilometers to get it to Edmonton first.

JEN AND RENE'S FIRST SHOW

The Grateful Dead were playing 3 nights in Vegas and Jen and Rene had been turned on from living with me. We decided to drive down. I warned them that trying to cross the border with me in the car they were taking a risk. They weren't concerned and we went. At the border they called us in. I briefed Jen and Rene to say that they didn't know of my criminal record. The border gaurds spent about 2 hours telling us about what fugitives we were and how they could confiscate Rene's parents' car if they wanted to. It was a nice car and I bet they wanted to. They hastled us for so long I said that we should just act very afraid and sorry and maybe we could get out quicker. They interviewed us seperately and we all cried and appologized. They enjoyed it for a little bit and then let us go. We hurried back to Edmonton, about a 7 hour drive, and I suggested that we don't give up. Flights to vegas were cheap and it was the easiest way to cross the border, having a return ticket and going somewhere to gamble away fortunes, the border gaurds act more like casino hosts welcoming you in.

I didn't want to chance getting them in trouble again so I stayed home. They came back a few days later happy as can be. Charge with positive energy that only a show can provide, and the extra thrill of seeing it all for the first time.

I haven't really spent much effort in trying to describe a show. I can't and if you've never seen the Grateful Dead I guess you'll never know. It's safe to say that we hundreds of thousands, who travel many miles to go to shows, like them very much.

WHY STICK AROUND?

The lease had expired for our apartment with Jen and Rene and they didn't really like Lisa and we decided to get seperate places near by. I told Lisa that if she had found a job within two weeks, we could move close to her work. I didn't push her and she didn't look. One weekend I offered her my help. I suggested that we pick what would be her favorite places to work and talk to each. If they don't pan out I guess we try the next favorite and so on. I tried to suggest places for her and one of the first we went to was a cool record store on Whyte ave. and the owner offered her a job. I thought that this was great and she was to start work the next day at 10 a.m.. I set the alarm that night and woke up early. I woke Lisa and she didn't want to get up so I told her that I would set the alarm ahead another half hour for her so she could sleep more. I smoked a joint and took a shower and when I went back into the room Lisa was crying. Affectionately, I asked what was wrong, I was heart broken to see her so sad. She said that she was frightened by the alarm clock. This didn't seem like a major trouble so I gigggled and held her for a moment and said oh well, time to get up. She didn't stop crying. I asked if she didn't want to go to work and she nodded. I told her that she didn't have to go to the record store if she didn't want. "Really?", she stopped crying and said.

"Of course, you can do anything you like. If work made me cry I wouldn't go in either." I said and she was happy again.

The two weeks went by and I picked the place for us to live. I bought an old chevy van for $200 to help us move and I had always wanted to camperize a vehicle and this one could be a good practise. I took my two weeks vacation once we had moved in to spend time helping Lisa get a job. She said "I thought you said I didn't have to get a job.". I pointed out that as shitty as it made me feel, that it was the first thing I said to her on the phone when she said she wanted to come back. I explained that I only said that she didn't have to go to a job that was making her cry but she was still expected to find another or at least make some effort. I told her that I wouuld pay the rent and she was resposible for her own food and half of the dope. She mentioned that she had some inheritance money in the bank. I tried to express how hard it is to put money in the bank and in my opinion she should leave it there and get a job.

I told her that we had a phone and a van and I would take her anywhere she needed to go to find work but I wasn't going to push her to do anything. She sat around the house all day and I could stand it so I spent my holidays out in the van fixing it up. It turned out really nice. I pannelled the roof and walls and carpeted the floor. I built two benches and a table which colapse into a bed. I had only sppent a few bucks and didn't want to spend more money on a stereo than the worth of the van so I bought a 8 track player from Value Village for a buck and I toured the garage sales and flea markets in search of great tapes. I ended up with a great collection of old Zeppelin, Santana, Dylan, Stones, Beatles and way more. More than a hundred tapes all together. I bought a home system from Value Village which allowed me to tape Dead shows from Lisa walkman on to 8 track. I liked my van alot.

Lisa still hadn't looked for work and I mentioned that if she was going to spend her inheiritance, let me know when she got it down to $400 so she would have enough to get home to Toronto. That night in the middle of love making she stopped and asked in a cutesy voice, "You wouldn't really send me home, would you lover?". I said of course. I tried to explain again that she was to expensive for me to take care of. The next day I started this sêong but didn't finnish it and I read it to her anyways.

Is there something in my soul that's craving sad?

Is there somewhere in my heart that's feeling bad?

It's all feelings I've felt before

Which one's do I listen to?

Which one's do I ignore?

You see I'm just confused,

I guess I never had so much to loose.

You make me happy every day

But there's one thing I got to say

Are you my partner or my pet?

Is there a line we haven't met?

I feel as though I must regret,

Are you my partner or my pet?

She ran out of money soon enough and probably realised how expensive she really was. She went home again to Mommy.

BERT COMES BACK

Bert came back from Europe and started working back at U.F.L. again with Rene and I. We were a formidable team of workers but I was getting bummed about work. We worked so hard and so well while the lazy, complaining dayshift got raises. There was one batch of 40 bags of a cheese powder that day shift loved to do. Half of them would spend all day doing it and fucking it up. We showed them that they were sending it through too fast. The cheese would melt in the mill when overloaded and it would have to be shut down and the screens would need to be scraped clean. If you don't overload it it runs smoothly. They told us to fuck off probably because they liked it slow, wasted a whole day and only lifted 40 bags. Too often they were still there when we got there, collecting overtime still on this cheese batch, the only batch they did all day. Finally we told the boss to give us the batch next time it needed to be done and the blender can hold 60 bags so change the recipe and we'll make 60 bags twice and have enough for the next 3 orders. We were given the batch and I did it by myself in about 3 hours and like I said just run it slow, I had time to help every one else as well. Still no raises.

JEN'S PREGNANT!

I used to meet Rene at his place at about noon each day and we would play guitar together for a couple of hours before leaving for work. One day Jen came home about noon. Rene asked her what was up. She said that she had to go to the doctor. Very concerned that the doctor sent her home he jumped and asked if she was all right. "I'm pregnant." she said pretty calmy. I left the room. I sat in the kitchen for a while, then came back in. They were so nice. They were hugging each other with a few tears on their cheeks, huge smiles on there faces and wide eyes full of joy and amazement. I joined in the hug for a few minutes and then went back to the kitchen.

Rene had asked Jen to marry him a week earlier so this wasn't looking pretty on the level from the parents point of view but when the parents said they wanted the wedding before the baby, my suggestion was don,t. You're having a baby, don't stress yourself out with a wedding too. Jen's parent's said that they would take care of everything and Jen and Rene both O.K.'d it.

THE DREAM TEAM DOES SPICEY FRIES!

U.F.L. was approach by MacCains and asked to bid on a french fry spice deal. Their bid was good and MacCains wanted samples of our work. This was a huge deal it was said that it would increase our annual production from 3 million kilos to 10.5 in one contract. When we got there that night there was sheer mayhem. Dayshifters and bosses running around like crazy still working on there first MacCains batch of the day. When they all left we were able to do them all as well as our normal work. We were doing 8 and ten MacCains batches a night plus our normal work and dayshift was doing only 2 or 3 plus a couple of small batches. The MacCains they did do was done sloppy so we told the bosses to give it all to us. Well MacCains liked our work and we were doing it all. The company got this huge contract and still no raises for us but we were happy that the company was doing so well while dayshift was scared that it might mean more work for them.

I would come to work and there would be people still on the clock, hiding in the washroom, laughing about the amount of overtime they were getting.

I had now been in Edmonton for two years and that was longer than any where else I had been since I first travelled. I was afraid of settling down and alot of uneasy questions came to mind. I started calling friends of mine who had been part of my life to find there impressions of my situation.

DREAM TEAM DOES OAKLAND

Grateful Dead Chinese New Years celebration was coming up soon and I decided to go. Bert hadn't seen a show yet and Rene wouldn't stay home with us down in Oakland so I informed the boss that we were all going. I told him that we would miss Monday night but a couple of us should make it back for Tuesday and we would be almost certainly full strength for Wednesday. I shut down the most productive shift of this multi-million dollar industry for an uncertain amount of days for the celebrating Chinese New Years in Oakland with the Grateful Dead.

How to cross the border?

Rene, Jen and Tim had booked flights antd Tim had a hotel room booked at the Easy-8 motel, near the stadium. Bert and I worked with the travel agent, Jaquie, who sent Jen and Rene to Vegas and we booked first a midnight flight to Vancouver Thursday night, if we were going to be turned back by the border gods I thought it better to be in Vancouver where were at least closer to the border. For our first attempt to cross we went all out. We booked return, business class, flights between Vancouver and Seattle, we booked hotel rooms in a moderate but not cheap hotel, Jaquie printed us up an artinerary with the flight numbers, dates and times, we cut our hair and shaved, we bought suitcases and underwear and border crossing attire at Value Village. We were diguised as business people with U.F.L. related business ahead in Seattle. Work had us designing a production line and had gone so far as to hire us an organizer type guy so why couldn't we be checking out food processing equipment in Seattle. Business men we was! I even considered going to the library, picking up a Seattle Yellow Pages, and calling any type of food place I want and book an appointment and even go ahead and fax me confirmation of that please.

We got to Vancouver fine and our Seattle flight didn't leave until about 5 a.m. so we had 3 or 4 hours to try not to worry. We mixed among the crowd and went in seperately and drifted right on through. We hurried to get far enough away to cheer!

At the Seattle airport I changed into the one pair of jeans I brought in the bottom of my suitcase and the tie die shirt that was hidden inside the leg of the jeans. I threw away the suitcase, we cancelled our expensive return tickets back to Vancouver and we bought one ways down to San Fran. The excitement of going to the shows mounts incredibly each step of the way. We landed early Friday afternoon in San Fran. We took a bus to the B.A.R.T. and B.A.R.T. to Oakland. We found the Easy-8 motel and Tim hadn't signed in yet. We went to the colosium and sold some sandwiches and looked for a ticket for Bert. I already had already mail ordered my tickets but I gave Jen and Rene my Sunday night ticket in case I didn't make it across but I kept my Friday, Saturday in case I made it just on time or even a day late.

We checked back at the Easy-8 and he still hadn't checked in. No worries, we were there! Find Bert a ticket! We wandered around the crowds for a while checking everything out and looking for a ticket for Bert and looking for Jen, Rene and Tim. We ate some acid and soon found a ticket. Bert was so thrilled, I lost him. No worries, he had his ticket! I went in soon and what a great show. I listened to what the band had to say tonight and when they played Truckin' I remembered that every time I heard Truckin' in the past, a differnet verse each time rang true to me and pointed something out. This time they all rang heavy and I realised that of course I'm stressed, I haven't seen a show for more than 2 years! "Sometimes the lights are shining on me", with the familar even warm spot lights that light up the audience and connect us for a momemnt in that way, I was recharged with the love of each other instantly. At the same time I recognized that my factory life, two years in the can, had dimmed my vision, "What a long strange trip it's been!"!

After the show I hung out a bit looking for Jen, Rene, Tim and Bert. I didn't see them so I wandered back to the Easy-8 motel. No one was registered under Tim's name. No worries, we were there. I wandered around some more for a while and when I was ready to sleep a bit I knocked on a few doors at the motel asking for floor space. I had dope and cash and would be welcome to pitch in a bit of each in any room. The first 10 or more I came to were so full of heads and dogs that I decided to keep trying. One room had two school kids from across the country who came to buy lots of cheap acid. I offered them $10 and promised to smoke some pot with them for sleeping room on their floor and the luxury of uncrowed shower usage. They closed the door and discussed it and I was invited in. They told me of their plan to buy tonnes of acid and sell it back home at ten times the price. I said do what you like, I'm sleeping on the floor, but I warned them how dangerous it could be. In the morning I went down to the front desk and asked Mr. Easy if Tim had registered and someone in the lobby said to me, "Tim from Canada?" and he took me too the room. I was happy to see him and we smoked a big fatty and Bert walked in. "Bert!", I got up and hugged him, he ran across Tim just before the show and they stuck together. Rene and Jen were turned back for being known accomplices of mine. I felt terrible and called them right away. They were sending their tickets down by courior to a friend of Tim's home in San Fran and they would get here sunday afternoon. That was my Sunday Night ticket and Bert could use one of Jen or Rene's and there was one left over. Saturday night was great with Tim, me and Bert enjoying our first show together as the three stranded Canadians brothers, in Oakland. After the shows, back at the hotel, my room mates had found someone who said he'd get them acid. I didn't want to get involved but I didn't want these young guys to get burned. I advised them not to give him the money until he brought it all over and they sat down and took two random hits and waited until they were sure that they were sure that they liked the acid.

Sunday afternoon we panicked a little when the tickets went to an adress on ther other side of town. Tim's friend totally spent all day running around chasing them down. Bus and train schedules was often the topic of conversation and all we could do was wait. The show was getting so close and I was ready to go and find another ticket and poor Tim didn't really need to wait with us, he had his ticket. The guy showed. We rolled a quick fatty and smoked it with him and offered him the third ticket. Tim hadn't seen him in a long time and we were so happy to see him to that we almost forgot about how late we were and we ran to the stadium, found great seats and we laughed and held onto our seats for the coming of the last show we'd see in I don't know how long. But what a show!

I wandered around a bit with Bert looking for rides north. We were offered alot of rides to the next shows in Pheonix and each offered got harder to turn down. We called some airlines and decided to take a cheap flight to Seattle in the morning. I went back to Tim's room and asked where Bert was. Tim said "He's in your room with those kids. Mike I think something bad has happened there."

I ran down the hall and one of the kids was hugging his pillow and crying and the other was walking around mad and Bert was trying to calm down the crier. We were lucky that they didn't suspect us. They had given all their money to the guy and he didn't come back but he left his bag. We waited a while before checking the bag and found his wallet and walkman and other personal stuff. We hung out more trying to keep the kids freaking out. He came back for his bag and I told him to sit down and he wasn't leaving until the kids got their acid or money. "I don't have it, I don't have it.", "Get it. Get it.". I didn't like putting up with this, I had even made efforts to stay uninvolved. But as it stands Bert and I stood gaurd while the kids dozed off. We woke them when we had to leave with the warning of "If you close your eyes again, your money could walk out the door." But I bet they fell right back asleep. Bert and I hit the airport and got to Seattle. We hopped on a greyhound to Vancouver and the fucking Canadian border gods, who should be saying "Welcome Home, how was your trip?", totally harassed me. All I had with me was a pouch that I had bought at the shows. I had about $25 worth of goods to declare. They took my pouch and searched it. They pulled out a Jerry head pipe that I bought as a gift. "It's clean." I said impatiently. I was insulted that they thought I might be stupid enough to carry a pipe filled with resin, dressed like a freak, across the border and don't you know they had to say something like "Where's the yummies that go inside.". They told me to empty my pockets and I did but I told them that I felt they were being bullies. "Are not.", they said. So I asked them to empty their pockets and tell me everything that they did in the last 48 hours. One of them said, "We're not apply for admission into this country."

"Applying?! I live here!" I told them, they were holding my birth certificate, my proof of citizenship that peice of paper that I've carried around the world and protected it from the rain with more consideration than anything else I've owned. Me, who does not carry more than I need, carries that for them. I told them that they could either let me in or arrest me and they had nothing to arrest me on, I had done nothing wrong. Actually I found a hit of acid a week later, that I had lost in the pouch in Oakland. But just the same my taxes feed his family and I break my back to pay them, he should be happy that I'm back to pay more!

We got into Vancouver and took the same $99 flight to Edmonton. I took a cab from the airport straight to work and worked the whole night through. I missed only one night of work and realised that it had to do with the fact that I had enough money to travel by plane. I knew that I had to see more shows and if I get eight days of vacation a year from work and can see three shows and only use up one day off, I could see a lot of shows.

RAISE OF THE CENTURY

I went to the boss the next day and as well he wanted to see me. He asked me for my side of the story of what happened between Gary and I the other night. Gary was a slacker, didn't like to work. If things were going too quickly he would get in the way. The night we left, we had to be at the airport by midnight so we had to really boogie to not leave Gary and Boyd a tonne of work to do alone but he kept getting in the way. He did alot of really stupid things that night and I got frusterated and shoved him once and he left me alone. This was an incident and the boss wanted to hear my side. I told him what I just told you, I also told him that I came into his office with a proposal for him to keep me from quitting. Now I regretted not hopping on a bus to Pheonix. I threw my arms in the air and said "Keep the slacker. I'm going on tour.".

"Wait Mike, what was your proposal?"

Lay it on the line, I told him that I would quit if he put $2000 in the bank for me each year to be used exclusively for plane tickets, to get me to shows and back to work quickly. What I didn't spend I'd return and just to go a little further, considering I was in his office to be repremanded, I upped it and asked for two extra days off a year. He said "Let me get this straight. You want $2000, tax free?" I impatiently tried to briefly exp_lain that I wanted the company that I work hard for, to want me to be happy. I wanted those suits and ties in head office to send me to Dead shows to keep me happy. I told him that I had passed the point of enjoying myslf but if they O.K.'d my proposal, I'd be a fool to leave.

"Enjoy yourself? This is work. Nobody likes work." said the boss, and I explained that if I wasn't having fun I was gone. He came back the next day with an O.K. from the suits and ties. I went into his office to be repremanded and came out with a raise that ought to make the corperate history books.

It didn't take much of the grind again to bring me back down. I was having bad dreams about work and waking up in a panic. I called Ari and told him my troubles. My crazy work, my great raise and my still restlessness. I thought about it and after my first two year stay I had become so urbanized. I had all of the luxuries that one works for. I had a van, an apartment with a T.V., stereo, hot popcorn popper and the rest of the stuff. So how do I feel? The answer was stressed. Ari told me that the last time I called him I asked him the same thing and that was six months ago. He told me that if I didn't leave I'd never know if it was the right thing to do or not and that made perfect sense.

I gave work one last chance, an extreme proposal. The production statistics came out for the year and I booked an appointment with the biggest cheif. I showed him the stats. We had done 80% of production that year and I admitted that we were done at least an hour early every night. We had done 0% of mistakes and 0% of overtime which cost the company tonnes of money. I told him that I couldn't continue supporting the slackers, either fire them all and more than double our wages, or I quit. He told me that they had been with the company for years and he couldn't fire them. I told him that his loyalty is nice but misdirected, I suggested that he check the bathroom for hiding overtime workers. He reitterated that he didn't want to fire any one so I told him that I quit and warned him that unless he does something he'll loose Al and Rene the only remaining hard workers he had. Loose 80% of production capabilities! He just figured we could be replaced. He didn't even know how well we worked. We broke our backs for him and he didn't even know. Two people were hired in my place and Bert and Rene left soon after.

PADDLE AWAY

What to do next? Having watched T.V. for two years, the world looked too dangerous for me to go out hitch hiking so I considered either a bicycle trip or a canoe trip. Cycling, I thought of heading east across the praries. I'd mostly be going with the wind, I figured, and there wouldn't be any hills until Ontario. On a canoe trip however I would be able to pack more stuff and it would be less of an effort to carry it and I could bring a guitar. The North Saskatchewan river ran right through Edmonton and I could probably drift downstream all the way to New Orleans. The Bargain Finder, Edmonton's free ads paper, had cheap canoes for $100 to $200 and I decided on the canoe trip.

I Rod out in Victoria doing some carpentary work. I called and asked if he wanted my van. He said that he could pay me for it but I told him that getting here was going to cost him $100, Rod won't hitch hike, and getting the van home will cost at least another $100 and it might not even make it being and old van having to cross such young mountains. He flew to Edmonton and it was great to see him! He helped me clean up my place and anything that friends didn't want we drove to the S.P.C.A. thrift shop. Work holds pay one week back for the sake of book keeping so when they gave me my last three weeks pay plus my vacation pay plus a $100 tip for leaving now, I was rich. I got deposits back from my apartment and hydro. I had worked for 2 years and always ran out of money by the next pay cheque, now I quit and I had more money than I'd ever had in my whole life.

That week had poor listings for canoes in the bargain finder, they were all running at about $400. One ad read "C4 racing canoe, $40". I thought that it must have been a misprint and didn't even call at first, but I called later and he told me that it was really $40. He asked if I knew what a C4 racing canoe was. I said no but does it float and he said yes. I went to look at it and it was a small fiberglass kayak. I gave the man $40 and went to Canadian Tire and bought a canoe paddle, the only beaver tale paddle they carried but it was a nice paddle, and about $60 worth of fiberglass. They also had dome tents for $25 and sleeping bags made by spalding that were rated to -17 for $50 and I bought both, travelling in style. I got the boat home and covered the bottom with fiberglass nice and thick. I found a mandolin for $75 in the Bargain Finder and bought that and a small chord book. I put fiberglass over the cardboard box of the mandolin for limited water protection and the whole thing fit nicely in the front of the kayak. In the back I put a small knapsack with potatoe flakes and rice and a pot plus a change of clothes. I rolled up my sleeping bag in a tarp and it became my seat. I had the kayak facing backward so that the triangle shaped hole was pointing up stream and when I sat cross legged on my sleeping bag, my knees had more room. Rod and Rene took me to Rundle Park on the east side ot Edmonton where we carried the kayak down to the river. It was the first time that I had actually stood right beside the river and it looked big and mean. The ice had just broken earlier that week and huge chunks were floating by totally fast! I was afraid but I knew that I would be and we put the boat in and waved good bye. As I quickly floated away only the three of us will understand fully the humour of how far I floated on this stuffed full little boat no bigger than a surf board.

That day I paddled for about two hours and pulled over. It was beautiful and sunny out. I went for a short walk and I lay down in a feild feeling so free that I knew I had made the right decision in leaving Edmonton. The nights were cold and my sleeping bag was a piece of shit. I froze! I woke up about six or seven times a night in complete pain from the cold and I would tell myself "Just go back to sleep, it'll get worse." Strangely enough this thought was comforting. I got up early each day and paddled hard all day.

The wildlife was abundant the further I got from Edmonton. Huge beavers were every where! I probably saw from 10 to 20 of them a day. If they were swimming they would head straight for me, to show me they weren't afraid, then they would dive and slap the water with their tales when they were just 10 feet away. The game evolved into me trying to slap the water with my paddle just before he dives, and I got alot of practise. If they were on shore, when they saw me upstream they would take notice and as I came closer they would run for the protection of the water. The banks are steep and the beavers are so round and squat that they seem like big rocks rumbling down to the water where they extend out to perform a perfect bellyflopping, tail-smacking giant leap on to the river. The game became "Ask the flying beaver.". Before he hit the water, I would try to ask him if it was going to snow or later rain. I asked him about distances and directions. I never got any answers but I still figure that if any one knows the answers, the flying beaver must know.

The beavers cut down and used all the small trees nearby. The shores were covered with small sapling remains sticking up from the ground like spears making it difficult to find a good spot to camp. There were various beaver paths up the banks and when I camped on them I would put up a wall of branches in front of my tent so I could hear them coming. I was woken often by them and would only have to yell at them and they would fly to the water and slap around a bunch before trying to check me out again.

Coyotes ran along the shores and would howl all night, most nights. It wasn't hard to start them off by howling an imitation, it didn't even have to be a good imitation.

I saw the occassional wolf on the top of the banks, but they would run the moment they noticed me.

There were so many different kinds of birds all around. The herons would wallow in the mud on the shore and gracefully walk to and harpoon fish with there beaks. Watching them hunt was neat as they would watch their prey with such concentration that I could see the movements of the fish by watching his eyes. At the right time they would slow and steady bring their heads closer and zoom. The beak went in and out of the water so quick you could barely see it. It look more like they just stood up and the fish hanging on his beak just appeared. The heron's nest were huge and sat on the tops of trees. One day I came to an small island where a possible 50 nests sat one on the top of each tree. I went aboard Heron Island and grabbed a whole bunch of long, light bones for Larry.

One morning I came around a bend and there was a flock of 14 big white birds with black wing tips, soaring together in a beautiful, sincronized, arial ballet. They stayed so close in this graceful follow the leader and every flap was copied down the line one after the over. I sat and watched them for maybe an hour or more until they left the area. The next time I saw people I asked them what this bird was. They told me it was a pelican. "A pelican?!" I laughed. Pelicans are big fat awkward birds, surely not the graceful flyers I had seen, but a few days later I came around a bend and I frightened a flock of close to 20 of these birds into flight and indeed they were pelicans.

I once found a deer skeleton underneath a fallen tree. A beaver had, apperantly, carelessly fallen this big tree without yelling timber to the deer who wasn't 20 feet away from the stump. I took the skull and used duct tape to fasten to the bow of my boat. I would shelf my paddle across the antlers when I was at rest. It also served well for supporting the kayak upside down at night.

It only took me a week to get to the Saskatchewan border when I decided to hitch to Llyodminster and have a hot meal, hot shower, do laundry and shopping. Beside the hotel there was a highway sign saying Edmonton two hundred and something kilometers, not very far. I figured that it might be rude of me to be so close and not drop by to see Jen and Rene so in the morning I hitched back to say hi and visit again. I went and stayed the night and hitched back to the boat the next day. Realizing how hard I had paddled I decided to slow down, relax, there was no hurry in fact there was nothing but time. I paddled around, meeting people and animals along the way, enjoying myself thoroughly.

One day I stopped at a bridge and hitched to a town called Paradise Hill. I went into the local pub and ordered a beer. When I left the kayak I brouught the paddle with me in an attempt to explain why I'm standing on a bridge in the middle of no where, hitch hiking. Some one at the pub made a joke about my paddle and I explained that I was travelling by boat. He asked why I brought the paddle with me and I said, "You don't leave your keys in your car do you?", and everybody laughed. People bought me beer after beer after beer. I was walking back to the washroom when a old woman with a squinty eye grabbed my arm tight and suddenly. She said, in a strong Irish accent, "Ay. Beware of the eddies, boy!". I wasn't sure who the eddies were but I assured her that I would be careful.

I camped on great islands with lots of sand surrounding them. I had huge campfires and great times with my mandolin. I went on alot of hikes and found lots of bones that I kept for Larry. My kayak got so full of bones I had to start saving just really good skulls. This filled me up soon enough too and I resorted to just keeping teeth. One day I paddled by what looked like a pretty odd bone sitting on top of mud on the shore. I pulled over and picked it up. I was definately a bone but it was unusually heavy, dark and hard. It looked as though it had been fossilized! I threw it in my knapsack and kept on going. When I got to Edmonton one time I took the bone in to the museum and asked the people there to tell me about it. They told me that it was the toe bone of a 50 to 100 thousand year old horse. They said more likely 100,000 because they had never seen one so big. I asked for the museum dude to write that down on some mueum letter head for me and I called Larry right away. I bought a special box for it. I hitched back to Toronto to give it to him as well as the other treasures that I had found.

VISIT TORONTO

In Toronto I visited everyone. I stayed for about a week and had a great time. I contacted a girl who I had always loved her for her wonderful loving self as well as her incredible beauty. We got together for a couple of beers and we were having a great time until I asked her to sleep with me. I walked her to her car and appologized. She said that it was O.K., she was just shocked. I appologized for shocking her and asked that she consider it and give me a call and she didn't. I approached another friend who I had known for years as well. We were always the closest of friends right from the time I met Ernie in high school. We had grown up together lots and always respected each other. I asked her to sleep with me and she said no. I got pretty discouraged. These girls knew me pretty much as well as any one else did and everyone else respected me lots. If I had said "Let's get some beer and have a picnic in a swamp." Christine would have been the first to say "I'll try that.", but sleep with me, no way.

I wrote this song to tell them, strongly, that I AM MIKE! That guy who they grew up with, who was an influence in their lives, more than most others they had met before.

Seems you aint found your one yet, Could be one you already met,

I could be your one.

I aint got much you know that's true, But one thing that I got on you,

Is, I could be you one.

I could be your one, \

I could be your one. >-CHOROUS

Angel, I could be your one /

You've got Mother Nature's smile, I'm just here a little while,

I could be your one.

Let's get to it I got to go, Another town another show,

I could be your one.

CHOROUS

My friends say I'm a special guy, I love them cause they don't lie

I could be your one.

Stand up strong and look at me, I'm alot of things you'd like to be.

I could be your one

I could be, it could be me,

I could be your one

Yea, I could be it, could be me

I could be your one.

Angel I could be your one.

Oh well, it was great spending time with Rod and Pablo and nice to meet Pablo's girlfriend, Monica.

TO THE WEDDING

I gave myself 5 days to get back to Edmonton in time for the wedding. My parents and I had got along well together for a number of years by now. I would look forward to calling them and chatting as friends. They were supportive and even excited about my river trip. I decide to accept their invitation to spend the weekend at the cottage with them and we had a great time together. They liked, as did I, the relationship we had developed. We loved each other lots and our battles had drawn strict boundries that we all adhered to. I did what ever I liked in my life and I did it on my own. Their opinions and advice were just that, their opinions and advices, and I respected them as much as I did for any friends opinions and advice. We were good friends and we had history together and we were happy with that and didn't want to change a thing.

Sunday morning my mother drove me to the 400 highway and dropped me off at an on ramp. We talked about what about this on the way as being an act of complete acceptance. We laughed at all the food she tried to give me to take when I pointed out that she wanted me to carry all of that all the way to Edmonton.

I was picked up pretty quickly and was feeling good. I didn't wait very long very often but my rides were generally 2 or 3 hour leaps. Monday night I got into Thunderbay and I missed the turn off on my way into town. It was an odd turn off and missing it meant about four hours worth of walking, pretty well all night. Teusday morning would have me still about 9 hours drive from leaving my first province and I had to be there Wednesday night or Thursday morning for sure (the wedding was probably at 9 a.m. at some church, I don't know.), after Wednesday night I would be late.

I took a 2 a.m. Greyhound from Thunderbay to the next little town about an hour away. I stood out all night watching the stars and waving my thumb at the few cars going by and a few hours into morning a rental truck pulled into the gas station across the highway from me. The Great Trans-Canada Highway. Canada Highway 1 (and only). More than half of the highway's length, which is huge probably 9 or10,000 kilometers (5to 6,000 miles.) , is only a single lane in each direction. So I said to the driver on the other side, filling his tank, "Just in case you were close to offering me a ride but couldn't think of enough reasons,

my friends are getting married in Edmonton Thursday morning and I left Toronto Sunday."

He said "I would, but my insurance wouldn't cover you.".

I told him that if was going to get in an accident I didn't want to go with him anyways. He said that he wasn't going to get in an accident and offered me a ride to Calgary. Some guys hang out in truck stops, can't even afford there own coffee, and hassle drivers for rides. This was the first time I had ever asked any one for a ride and in a way I guess he knew it.

A couple of other hitch hiking edicate experiences on that to and from Toronto trip made me feel like a seasoned veteran. On the way into Toronto I was hitch hiking all night, reading a book under a street lamp waiting for cars, when an ice cream truck pulled over for me. We smoked a joint together and he asked if I liked music. "Of course" I said and he turned on the ice cream trucks computer version of Pop Goes the Weasel and other assorted ice cream songs. We laughed as we rolled down the dark Trans-Canada around Ontario mountains and lakes playing ice cream songs for the bears. He dropped me off at his turn off and said good night. I walked for a couple of hours and nobody came by. The great Highway and only was barren. Even though it was night, there was enough moonlight to know that I was in the beautiful wilds of northern Ontario and the infrequency of the cars only made it better. I heard a familiar chug of an engine coming closer and when the headlights appeared I immediately recognized that it was a V.W. van. Good travelling mobiles. V. W. a long way from anywhere and travelling late at night, I wasn't surprised when they pulled over right beside me. They took me to Wawa where they decided to get some sleep and I continued on. I walked to the last gas station in town and bought a coffee. I was approached by a guy, also hitching.

"Welcome to Hell." he told me and continued by complaining that he had been here all night.

"In the coffee shop?" I asked making quiet fun of him. I felt like telling him, these things happen, oh well, some one will pick you up sometime. A guy came in to pay for his gas and the other hitch hiker ran up to him and asked him where he was heading and asked him for a ride. I didn't like being associated with that so I left my coffee and went out to the road I stuck out my thumb for the guy who had just been in the gas station and he pulled over for me. We laughed at how the other guy made a bad impression right off the bat.

The other experience was also at Wawa on my way to the wedding. I was hitching west and out of the bushes, just down the highway from me, crawled a couple of guys with enourmous, multi-coloured mohawks standing way tall and thin from their otherwise bald heads. They probably had a combined total of 15 different earrings and chains hanging from their faces. There jeans were ripped as per style, tatoos covered there necks and lots of there visible skin. They looked like a couple of characters from Mad Max. They were complaining about what a bad place to hitch hike Wawa was. I didn't bother suggesting any advice I just wandered away.

Anyways, I was in that rental truck headed to Jen and Rene's wedding. For a living this guy moved valuable art. He told me stories of riding with million dollar statues on the top of elevators, police escorts to the border and then American cops taking over. Lots of interesting stories. He was delivering an art show to Vancouver. When we got to Calgary he drove far out of his way to take me up the highway towards Edmonton to make sure I had a good start. That was very nice of him. We had become such good friends that I was sad to see him go. We hugged and said goodbye. I was soon in Edmonton the day before the wedding!

Jen and Rene, and the baby to be, were leaving straight from the wedding party to see the Dead in Seattle and I had bought tickets too. Jen took me to Value Village and we found clothes appropriate for me to be at the wedding and then for crossing the border. The wedding was in a church and the party afterwards was in a friends backyard. We put up a rented circus type tent and tables underneath in case of rain. There were salads and deserts galore and I got the job of cooking the shish-ka-bobs. There was a buffet of shish-ka-bob peices and empty scewers and people made them their selves and gave them to me. I was given a white apron to protect my border crossing clothes. "Jen and Rene's Wedding" was painted in purple sparkles on the front.

A few hours later, they left a backyard full of people to drive to Seattle. Jen and Rene's friend , Chris, who was the guy I replaced at the apartment I first met them, drove his V.W. bus to the wedding from Vancouver where he was living now. He gave me a ride back with him. We had a great time laughing and singing the whole way while other passengers slept in the back. We hadn't spent much time together before but after this trip I felt very close to Chris. He paid me one of the nicest compliments I remember. Near Vancouver, talking about the fun time we had together, Chris told me that I was a very good hitch hiker. It hit home so well because I realized that this is all I did with other rides was have a good time together. It's made me feel good every time I thought about it and I recently had the oppertunity to remind him of it and thank him.

SEATTLE SHOWS

In Vancouver I spent the night at Tzvi's and he told me that he was going to sell his house. I told him that my next time through Vancouver I would stay a bit and do alot of general fix and pretty uppers for his house. I took a city bus to the border and tried hitching across for a few minutes until I didn't want to waste anymore time. Being only half of a mile from the border it was difficult to get a ride. I saw two people in tie dies at a pay phone who were headed to the shows and got turned back. I told them to go back home to Vancouver, borrow another car and try again at a different crossing near by.

I gave up on hitch hiking and I walked along the border for about 5 miles and then turned into the bush. I spentt about two hours walking slowly through the mud and giant thorn bushes that would grab you and hold you tight if you didn't slowly move each one as it grabbed you. I made it through and I changed my clothes and left the rest right there in the bushes. A pick up truck stopped and gave me a ride to town. and I stood on the highway for some time until a car stopped. It was the same people who were turned back earlier, they were in another car. They told me that we might be late because the show was starting at 6. But we just made it.

It was a weird atmosphere, being in the middle of Seattle and Grateful Dead were now well known as the worlds biggest party, the show was full of people who just weren't heads. I got a good spot on the floors but every where I looked I was the only one dancing. I felt a little uncomfortable and I went to the stands where people told me to sit down where ever I went. Sit down are two words that I had never heard at a dead show.

After the show I went to the parking lot and every one was leaving. Usually the parking lot is an all night party, when it's filled with heads that is. I had no money or drugs to donate on a hotel room and I didn't want to be stuck in down town U.S.A. overnight so I approached leaving cars for a ride out of town to camp. People would roll up their windows and locked their doors when they saw I was coming to them. One guy yelled "Get a job" as he raced away. This was not your average audience. I went to Denny's and got a coffee and figure I'd walk out of town. There I met a couple of Canadians who were headed back to Vancouver. I asked them for a ride north out of town and they said sure. It was raining pretty hard on me so I stayed in their car up to the border and I sat in Denny's for a while and decided not to go back to Seattle. I went and got my I.D. and came back to the bordercrossing and walked back to Tzvi's.

HOUSESITTING AT TZVI'S

I started working on his house some but I missed the kayak. Tzvi was leaving town soon to go to New York and Montreal and his house had been broken into 3 times in the past 2 months so he asked me to come and stay while he was gone. Big house in the middle Vancouver, I could handle that, sounded like luxury. I went back to the Kayak for a couple of weeks and then back down to Vancouver visiting briefly in Edmonton each time. In Vancouver we bought paint and sand paper for me and Tzvi left some blank cheques for any other supplies I felt I might need.

I got in touch with Nadine who was now living in Vancouyer. We got together and it was great to see her! I felt like a huge, unnoticed before, sense of worthlessness, vanished from my head. I wrote her this song and we cried a bit together and felt real good.

It's called "The story of She Who Loves Everything, the seasons and me."

It was early summer many years ago, From a beautiful girl I saw love glow

Love shone around her so abundantly She Who Loves Everything, might even love me.

Sensational summer seemed never ending, As lover of She Who Loves Everything.

By fall we were seeking a more traditional life She Who Loves Everything, was to be my wife.

Winter brought the dark and freeze. She Who Loves Everything, was not at ease

How do I make her smile again? She Who Loves Everything, seemed to be in pain.

Then the rain came with the spring, And She Who Loves Everything,

Said together we'd know longer be Said She Who Loved Everything, everything but me

Summers froze as seasons still rolled by. Spring time flowers by fall still died.

She Who Loved Everything was now my past, But it's early summer again, early summer at last.

TRACY

I enjoyed my house sitting for a while and then Tzvi called and said that he had sold the house and I should stop work on it and he had extended his trip another 2 weeks or more. I sat around and watched alot of T.V. until I realized that this was no good. I called my cousin, Andrea, who I hadn't seen since we were young and we decided to get together. She was spending the weekend in Whistler with some friends where other friends were playing in a bluegrass festival. We met where the band was playing and sat and listened to the nice music. We went back to the condominium that she had rented with her friends and had a few beers. One of her friends, Tracy, also her room mate, told me that she went to school with my sister and remembered me from there. Tracy was very beautiful and very natural and happy. We talked for a while together really hitting it off well. I was getting drunk so I decided to leave before I fucked up. I hitched back to Vancouver and was picked up by a pretty girl named Michelle. We talked alot and had a good time so I suggested that I cook her dinner. Later that week I called Andrea and invited her and Tracy for dinner. They accepted. So as not to violate the kosherness of the house, I dug a fire pit in the back yard keeping the sod in one piece to put back later. I bought some wine and cooked a stir fry for each of my dates but I made them different so as not to be an ass and serve someone left overs.

Andrea invited me to help at a salmon roast that she was organizing for a charity the next weekend. Her friends band was coming and so was cousin Steve-O. During the week I baked some cookies and brought them to Michelle. She lived nearby with three other beautiful girls. Vancouver was looking up. I came over often and smoked them joints. We all sat on their roof one night and watched an international fireworks compition going on in the bay nearby. The day of the salmon roast came up and there were about 10 of us setting things up we all worked hard together to get things ready and when the party started we got to relax more. Beer was free for workers so I enjoyed my share and got pretty drunk. I spent some time with Tracy and we kissed. We made arrangements to see each other again soon. I had a girlfriend so went looking for a job. I called some of the places that I had made spices for in Edmonton and verlander meats offered me a job in their factory. Tracy went to school all day and worked all night. She was working on her masters degree in Canadian history and on the weekends she was hired to put the Louis Reil rebellion on C.D. ROM. Day one into this relationship and it didn't seem right to be changed into an early rising factory worker, where you where rubber boots because the floor is covered with pig and cow blood, and only getting to see Tracy occassionally. The night before, I had just spent quality time with a beautiful woman who liked me and I was unhappy. I didn't even go to work. I called Tracy and asked if she could put time aside for me to see her in a few weeks and she said sure.

Tzvi returned and I went back to the kayak. I spent the rest of the summer kayaking for two weeks and visiting Tracy for a couple of days at a time. It was a great relationship for both of us. I was visiting Louis Reil museums along the river and picking up bones of buffalo along the river side this was everything that Tracy was studying but from a more immediately involved aspect. This means I was sleeping on the same banks and travelling the same river as they did. I talked to the people who grew up in that part of the country and to no surprise the museums, and history books, just tell the winners version of the story. The great Hudsons Bay company had brought employment, civilization and religion to the Indians. It doesn't mention the alcoholism, raped land and disease they left behind. I heard alot of terrible stories about how the Indians were treated and cheated. I brought them all back to Tracy with names and numbers to contact and suggested that it was her responsibility to expose the truth.

To say we were in love it was too early. We were still just weekend lovers but I wrote this song trying to say that it was hard not to fall in love with her but I had been hurt before.

Cupids got an AK-k40 And he's coming after me.

He's hanging out at your place Cause he knows that's where I'll be.

And man oh man, can that guy shoot He works his weapons well.

I've known alot of people Who've all been blown to hell.

Just because I've survived before Doesn't mean I can again.

I've been around some real close calls, I've seen alot of pain.

You said before you drive men mad, So thanks for choosing me.

But I may be already crazy Maybe I'm home free.

Cupid stay away from her, I'll stand between you two.

But he can be so sneaky He must know that's what I'd do.

Oh great hunter, take a rest, I see you in that tree.

Please put away the weapon man, Aint no sport in shooting me.

I know he's watching through the glass But I hope that I won't show,

If I dress up like the furniture And just take things real slow.

STAN

Once on my way from Vancouver to the kayak, I got a long ride with a guy named Stan. Stan lived in North Vancouver and visited his farm in Saskatchwan twice a year, in the spring and the fall, to see that his land was being handled well and honestly. He owned 4 quarter sections that somebody else farmed and gave him a third of the profits. He mentioned that he also had to put up a roof and do some painting and fixing. I told him with winter coming I might like to drop by and work in exchange for food and shelter. He gave me his number and the nearest town's name and dropped me off in Edmonton.. I visited a bit and then went back to the kayak.

Past Saskatoon I came across other river travellers, about 8 canoes. I was shocked and excited to see them. They were landed and unloading at a ferry crossing. They were still unloading and creating a massive pile of bedrolls and tents and pots and pans and air matresses and lanterns and on and on. I pulled up beside them and asked where they came from. They told me that they were all veteranarian students at the university in Saskatoon and they were out for a trip for this long weekend. They asked where I had come from and when I told them that I left from Edmonton they looked at me in disbeleif. "Where's all your stuff?" some one asked and I giggled to myself feeling rugged, "I'm sitting on it." I said. I pulled up and put my sleeping bag under my arm, mysmall knapsack over one shoulder and the kayak on the other. Proud of my small load, I took it all to the other side of the ferry crossing. I put my stuff down and went back to visit the veterenarians. I brought a handful of bones for gifts and others for identification. They were still in an assembly line tossing baggage onto the know monstorous mountain. I showed them vertibrae that had large fin like extentions on the top of them. They concluded that they must be buffalo, the fins being the hump. I was happy to hear this because there are not more buffalo bones being produced in that part of the country, very few at all anywhere and probably none wild.

I paddled for a further couple of weeks and got as far as Prince Albert where I was warned that the chemicals in the river from the pulp mill, would kill me. I didn't have room to carry my own water and I was pretty disgusted by the thought of the North Saskatchwan Sewer, that I hitch hiked back to Vancouver for a visit and then to Waka, where Stan's farm was near. I called him from town and he came and picked me up. We spent a couple of weeks painting and fixing and we put the new roof on the barn. I was treated to such fine cooking and accomodations that I felt I wasn't working hard enough. I hitched back to Vancouver for my next rendez vous with Tracy and back to Waka. I helped Stan close the house up for the winter and rode with him back to Edmonton. I stayed there to visit and arranged to race Stan the rest of the way to Vancouver figuring that he would stop somewhere for the night and if I left soon I might be in a car headed to Vancouver before nightfall. It took me many rides and I had only lost by about 4 hours. I visited Tracy again and then decided to visit Rod in Tofino and look for winter work on the coast.

TOFINO AND UCLUELET

Tofino is a small town. Cute and quaint with lots of hippies and mellow people. It's remotely located on the far side of Vancouver Island in beautifully lush rain forest. I found Rod the first day and we took the van to a campsite and had a fun night reminissing and laughing. There weren't any attractive jobs for me in Tofino so I went to check in the next town Ucluelet. A few years earlier, Ucluelet came pretty close to driving to Tofino and beating the town to the ground over protests about logging in Clayquat Sound. Tofino was the nature loving, tourist town while Ucluelet was made up of hard working, rough living fishermen and loggers. Rod and I rented a two bedroom trailer at Big Woody's R.V. park outside of town at the highway junction. I was offered a job by the local accountant who told me that he was part owner of Mama Indica's Hemp Seed Snacks, who I was very familiar with. I arranged time to go and see Tracy and I had wrote this song for her trying just to say that I was really liking her alot. When I got there she told me that she didn't want to tell me on the phone, but she wanted to start seeing her teacher instead of me. I was actually kind of flattered that she waited to tell me. I thought that she might have even been seeing other people between our visits but figured that even if she was I still enjoyed our time together and if she didn't want to tell me anything than I wouldn't ask. Here it seemed that not only was she faithful to me but she held off a different relationship until she could tell me in person so I read her the song anyways.

Try the thought of someone like me Loving you through eternity.

Not an anchor but a foundation A bottom line through complications.

Roll over girl see me smile. Stroke your hair a little while

I'm the one for who? could be you.

And if your world should turn around It's good to know that I'll be round.

From travelling bout and gathering news I've learn to keep away the blues

Yea now and then they catch up to me But I won't ask no sympathy

If I don't work try something new, I hope you know I care for you.

You know I'm yours if you need a friend If you need space you know I understand

I'm always happy as can be Wouldn't you be happy beside me?

I want to be the sparkle in your day But that's up to you anyway,

And if I'm not the right thing to do Nothings changed between me and you.

I aint saying let's do anything differently Things are moving fast enough for me

But it would be great just to think That you weren't just another fink.

To believe that you would love me more More than anyone has done before

Tell me all my searchings through Tell me my dreams were dreams of you.

Shake your heart your feelings haven't woke I want to love you and that's no joke

Feeling are what life's all about Take all the things you love, now check them out

Embrace life passionately Then turn around and embrace me

I aint one to tell you what to do, But I am one for someone, hope it's you.

Rene, Tim and I, played alot of music together in Edmonton, more than I had played with any others with the possible exception of the Campfire Band of Club Whitesands. We played really relaxed and fun together and that is hard to find in fellow musicians, in my opinion. Rene had expressed a desire to perform and support his family as a professional musician. I figured that this could be difficult to acheive. I thought that we could make a big hit on the bible music circuit which I guessed to be small enough to get in and big enough to get noticed. We could write songs talking about love of the earth and forests and other beautiful things. I tried with these:

Behold creation I love it ever more. Stand back damnation, I've seen your type before.

I washed on down the river today And waved to all the trees.

Creation craddled me in currents Took me out to sea.

Sometimes I get lost don't you, Sometimes we lead the way.

Creations love will always show By creating each new day.

I sat upon a mountain top And creation roared it's name

Shook the mountain, avalanche Creation knows no shame.

Quietly I climbed a tree To hide away from harms

Creation cuddled me comfortably In her mighty arms.

The earth's our garden of Eden Created for everyone

Sacred land and sky and seas, Polution over run.

Hey corporation, gonna settle the score,

Don't create that waste no more.

And how about this one for a show starter,

Heaven and earth, Lord turn on the lights. Lots of work to do in just six more nights.

Universal contemplation, Glorious creation, And were gonna dance and sing of it if that's all right.

Lord we're gonna rest on Sunday Gonna take the day and find myself some peace.

I know that we're to gether every day lord So thanks for putting up with me this week.

Yea we're gonna rest on Sunday. Gonna find me peice on this holiday

Lord I know you'll be there Sunday, Good tunes, great friends,

Good times, no ends, Sunday rock and rolling holiday.

The "I know you're always there lord" thing inspired this song:

Aint you with me every day now? Aint you with me every day now?

Hope you love every day now, Just as much as me.

Aint you with me every day now? Aint you with me every day now?

Hope you're finding every day now, Just as fun as me.

Aint you with me every day now? Aint you with me every day now?

I hope that I'm some one great to be with Each and every day.

Each day lord I try my best, Each day lord I try my best,

To bring no worries upon the rest Each an every day.

Each day I celebrate creation. Each day I celebrate creation.

I bless the land and the population Each and every day.

Each and every day lord, Each and every day lord

Thank you lord for being with me

Each and every day Aint we having a true good time

Each and every day It's just beginning, don't go nowhere lord

Each and every day.

My job was helping organize the messy office and answer the phone and tell any one who called that the accountant was busy and would they like to book an appointment. He never kept his appointments unless he was going to get money from them for pretending that things were almost done. Some people say that he really did a good job for them but I never saw him do anything except lie to and hide from clients. He never paid me on time and I told him that I wasn't going to work for him anymore until he paid me. Rod didn't like the trailer and I was having a tough time keeping up with the bills so we let it go. Rod moved back to Tofino. Chris and Tracy, the actual owners of Mama Inicas, offered me their camperized school bus as a place to live and I graciously accepted. I was angry at this guy for not paying me and was going to leave town when Chris said "Why leave somewhere you like because of an asshole?" and I agreed. I went out and found a job at Roman's Galley, a fancy restaraunt right on the harbour. It was a beautiful place to work with a huge glass wall looking out at the lives of seal lions and bald eagles. I started out as the pizza dough maker and prep-cook but demoted myself to be dish washer where there was less troubles to answer for.

KASSIDY SUNSHINE

I wasn't loving my job at Roman's so I when I heard that the corner store was hiring I went and talked to them and I they graciously gave me 4 nights a week working ten hour shifts. Chris had offered to sell me the school bus and I had always liked the idea of owning my own bus. I called my parents an asked if they would loan me enough to help on the deposit and we agreed that I could pay the rest off. I worked as many hours as I could and between the two jobs and I paid off my debts in six weeks.

Jen and Rene had a baby and girl named her Kassidy Sunshine. I tried to hitch up there two Friday nights in a row. Each time I'd rush from work to the ferry and across Vancouver by bus and was on the highway by 11 p.m.. The first time I wasn't even in Hope the next day and the second time I was still in Kamloops the next night. Both times I had no choice but to turn back, I had to be at work for Monday morning. The next week I got to Vancouver and took a midnight bus to get me into Kamloops at about 4 a.m.. I waited only a half hour before I got picked up by some one headed straight fo Edmonton and we got there late that afternoon. I thanked him lots but also pointed out that getting to Edmonton was too easy, I'm bound to get stuck on the way home. He dropped me off at West Edmonton Mall. I had tried calling them for a while and only got the machine and they were still not home. I forgot everybody elses number. I couldn't remember their parents first names to look them up in the phone book but I remembered, kind of, where Rene's parents lived. I took a bus and walked around a bit until I found the right house. They told me that Jen and Rene went to Jasper and they were staying in a hotel. They gave me a clue to the name but couldn't really remember the whole thing. I headed to Jasper. I waited for a city bus to take me to the highway and an out of service bus stopped.

"Where you headed?" the bus driver asked.

"Jasper." I replied.

"Hop on. I can give you a ride to the truck stop." He said and hurray I did with the feeling of the trip never stops. He dropped me off and I walked out to the highway it was pretty late at night and was snowing pretty hard. I had no trouble getting out of Edmonton but was soon stranded for hours. I built a fire in the snow on the side of the road for warmth and finnally got picked up and driven to Hinton. In Hinton I always get to stand on the highway and stare at a sign that continuously tells me that I've waited for hours and suffered brutally cold temperatures. It has also advertised for years the Sunday brunch buffet. I got to Jasper early the next morning and walked into town among the herd of cariboo that live there. They can be kind of scarry. I've walked through this same herd 3 or 4 times, and they are big creatures who you don't want to frighten when your standing in the middle of them but they always treat you casually like they don't even notice you. I went to a gas station and looked up the names of the hotels. I called a few and found the one that they were in. They didn't have a phone in the room and didn't answer the door so I asked the clerk to slide a note under the door saying that I would meet them at the coffee shop down the street. I was there for only 5 minutes when they walked in. We spent the day together and I understood why they had picked this place as a getaway. It was a pretty luxurious hotel room with a kitchen and a great view. The hotel was located just north of town and was nestled on a lake. It was really a nice relaxed place to be. I spent time with baby Kassidy, the youngest and closest baby I had met. They asked me to be the god father and I proudly accepted. I left before dark to get into Vancouver, hopefully by morning, and catch an early ferry back to the Island Sunday afternoon to evening.

DEREK OF GOD

One night while working at the Main Spot, Derek walked in. He was about 50 with a purple track suit, beer belly, silver hair hung from under his bike helmet and he had an army duffle bag over his shoulder. Ucluelet is a long and scarry drive for any one in a car, an old man on a bike with that heavy bag and that gut, holey moley! I offered him a coffee and asked what was up with him. He told me that he just had to get out of the ratrace so he packed up his things and left on bike. You can't get any further west than Ucluelet so I offered to show him a place to camp for the night and I took him to the beach after work. I arranged to meet him the next day and show him more of the beautiful coastline. He talked about finding a job in town because of debts that he carried. I helped him find a gas pumping job at the marina and he was thankful. I helped him build a tree house on the coast and he was overjoyed.

He played guitar beautifully and proffessionally for many years. He was deeply religious. He talked of all his sin and devils on his back. I warned him to relax. He spoke of being slapped by an angel or the hand of god on Granville Bridge in Vancouver. There, on Graville Bridge, he considered himself awakened and began cycling out of there. To think of how many commuters must miss the hand of god every day we could probably make a lot of money putting a toll on the bridge. I actually think that he might have tried to jump off the bridge and a wind came from under the bridge and put him back on top. Scared as could be, he ran from the hand of god on his bicycle to Ucluelet.

He liked his job and he liked his tree house and he was paying back the debts the best he could. I tried to cheer him up many times pointing out that there was nothing more he could do, just relax. Poor old man sure had the fear of God in him. He once approached me on the street and with his head bowed in respect more than embarassment he asked if I was Jesus. I shook his hand enthusiastically and told him that he had guessed right, he had been working very hard and all was forgiven. I walked away and left him him standing there. He was waiting for me to see if I'd show up at work now that my real work had been done and I guess the fact that I had to still work at the corner store gave me away. He mentioned it and asked if I was just kidding and I said of course.

OWEN AND DOUGY

Owen was hired by Roman's Galley and I was told that he lived in a tent near Tofino. I took him on a hike to show him a nice spot nearby to build a tree house. I got along with him well and offered him to sleep on the floor of the bus. We talked and laughed all night and and got a few hours of sleep before we both had to get up and go to work. He told me that his brother, Doug, had hurt his arm tree planting and was living with him near Tofino and Owen was having a hard time persuading him to get a job. We asked Roman to hire him to wash dishes and he said O.K. I told Doug that he could crash in the bus if a late night shift was to be followed by an early morning one but I didn't want three people living in the bus. This wasn't even for my sake who had to put up with a very full home for a while, but it was for the sake of Chris and Tracy who had so kindly let me live in their driveway. He moved right in and within a week he was complaining about work and then he complained about his back and stopped working all together. To get them out of my bus, I helped Owen build a tree house for them. We built the floor and framed the rest and they covered it with tarps against my advice. They moved out of the bus and into the tree house and I was glad to be alone in my bus again.

VISOTORS TO THE COAST

Mike, who co-owned the the convienience store, with his girlfriend, Colleen, also owned a store in Tofino called Movies and Munchies. They asked if I knew any one who wanted to work there on the weekends. I said that I'd love to and we agreed. Working in a small place at the late night conveinience store, you get to know the town as well as get known by them. I was eager to meet a new town.

I was working four ten hour nights in Ucluelet and two 14 hour days in Tofino. I was making lots of money and I sent Rene $200 and said come see me. We camped on the coast and had a great time.

My parents came to visit me and I booked them a nice Bed and Breakfast in Tofino. We booked a whale watching trip for the next morning and when I met them that day they told me they watched killer whales feeding in the channels out in front of their room last night. A rare ocurrance and was lucky for them to see it. Unfortunately it would be hard to top it on the whale watch we were embarking on. We did get close to a couple of grey whales who came even closer and checked us out or just said hello to the next boat of tourist. They were free, we were in the cage and hardly protective it would be if it were to come to one of these whales attacking our boat, but it felt great to be observed by the huge guy who meant us no harm.

We took a well maintained path in the park through the rainforesty, mossy trees to the vast Long Beach. It was a beautiful day and we hiked around the beach a while. I took them to Ucluelet and introduced them to my friends there. Dan and Dorreen at the diner, under the same hotel as the Ukee pub, were great hosts to my parents. Since I first came to town I paid homage by having my coffee quietly in the local diner. To me it's somewhat the center of town. By the time that it was O.K. for a guy like me to go into a bar like that, it was through aquaintances and friends that I had met in the diner and the store that made me a welcome friend as apposed to the ugly outcome of what a fishermen's and logger's bar could do to a guy like me.

I introduced them to Jim at the bar. Jim's a really sweet guy. He's also the biggest and baddest guy in town. Formally a proffessional weight lifter, gym owner and personal fitness trainer he's more at home working bouncer at the bar on weekends, full time junk man, and part time carpenter. I've heard stories of him duelling by moonlight with hammers on the deck of a fishing boat and biting off some other guy's ear. I had seen him walk into the middle of a fight and pull the two people apart and send them each flying across the bar.

THE UKEE PUB

The Ukee pub. That's a book topic on it's own and Jim should write it. Ucluelet is town with many workers in the natural resources feild. Picking trees and catching fish we all know should be done with some moderation. There were many east coast fisherman who lived here who could tell us about over fishing. But the big guy runs it. The fisherman sees the depleating stocks and doesn't want to catch the last fish but he's just competing for the big guy. The big guy can afford the big dragger that are massively damaging to the ocean. Apparently they drag the bottom and turn it over leaving it barren. They pick up everything whether it's in season or not and wants not in season gets thrown overboard dead. Now that they've regulated the seasons they have had to put regulations on the outragous amount of wasted out of season fish. The small time fisherman can't compete with the big guy and has a hard time just paying for his home and boat, the later of which was a prosperous means of support not long ago.

It's the same with logging. The big guy, in this case MacMillian and Blodel, clear cuts huge sections of land and without that millions of dollars of equipment you can't compete. You work for the big guy. I don't know a fisherman or logger that if they had millions of dollars to spend on equipment, wouldn't just retire happily. The more logging regulations have only chased away the big guy who still has first rights to the land and you'd still have to clear cut major mountains of there beauty in order to compete.

There were protests to protect the trees in Clayquot Sound. There was alot of media attention and they've stopped logging Clayqot but they just moved elsewhere, somewhere more economically more rewarding, and the battle is far from over. It's even somewhat irresponsible towards the families involved, to stir up ground with giants like M.&B.. The loggers all agree that they don't want to kill the earth. They even probably all agree that the giant is destructive. The disagreement was on the method to stop them. The environmental side certainly proposed a radical solution but the effect on the loggers was lost when they had to clean up the mess the "environmentalists" left behind and they lost their jobs.

The government promised new logging regulations, which you know means as few as possible. They promised to put money into forestry managment and it seemed more important how much compared to where it went.

With all the new regulations on forestry and fishing, the once booming town of Ucluelet is threatened into becoming a ghost town. Luckily the protester also left behind media attention and the example of how to use it. The logger's protested the regulations. They drew national attention to the government accusing them of bending to public opinion for votes and ignoring the workers involved. The government promised them money and things quieted down. Loggers were sent for retraining. In a three week course they got paid more than $15 an hour to be retrained. Many "students" would be drinking in the bar gigling about the money they're making to learn to make resumes. The way I understood it is when they finnish the "course" they were paid of the remainder of their eligible employment benifets. I'm sure that the government will have to supply the fishing industry with such a program soon to keep the big guy in the business of rape.

We have to kick some asses in managemant!

A major hub of national focus and industry and many of people, drank, laugh and occasionally fight, all at the Ucluelet lodge pub. They are a good bunch people who are just as well versed as any on the problems surrounding them. They can tell you that things aren't working but they don't tell you that they know the solutions either. I always tipped and was never any trouble and felt a welcome guest there as well a participant in making the Ukee pub what it is.

BACK TO MY FOLKS

Jim later told me that he was touched that I introduced him to my parents. I was touched he felt that way and I told him so. I'll buy your book Jim.

My parents and I feasted together at Roman's and The Crab Bar in Tofino where the frenchman owner came to and introduced himself and sounding very suave impressed my parents with the wonderful way they treat their food. My parents were very impressed with the home I had made for myself. I was proud of how many friends I had really made. My parents even liked my school bus. So after a fun few days I drove with them back to Nanaimo and said goodbye to them at the ferry and hitched home.

THUMPING BIBLE THUMPERS

I helped Chris a few times making the hemp seed treats and printing T-shirts and we spent alot of time talking about religion and drug use, the connections that is. Chris was writing a book called

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

that discussed the how origins of many religions are based on drug influenced halucinations. He leant me his bible and I read about 400 pages before I had had enough. I started putting those sticky little peel-off note pad things on pages with atrocities on them and soon most pages had colored flags with death tolls and aburdities written on them. I wrote this song pretty well word for word from judges 19 and 20. The beginning few verses are from exodus 32.

And the people cried in unison, "We'll do what the Lord has said"

But when Moses wasn't there They built the golden calf instead.

Said Moses, "Whoever's for the Lord Shall come to me",

The Levites were the only ones Who came whole heartedly.

"Go back and forth across the camp From one end to the other,

Slay your friends and neighbors Don't forget your sons and brothers."

The Levites actually did it 3,000 died at least.

They found favor in gods eye And he blessed them as his priest.

A Levite and his concubine Were travelling in Judeah.

They spent the night with brother Benjaminites, In a small town called Gibeah.

The wealthiest man as customary Invited the Levite in

The men of the town banged on the house Yelling "We want to have sex with him!"

The owner was quite upset, As I'm sure you'd understand.

Said "Don't be so vile this man is my guest And you know my guest is a man."

"Take my virgin daughter Do with her as you will."

But the men of the town weren't satisfied And they persisted still.

So the priest sent out his concubine Unto this crowd of men,

Who raped her all night long, She crawled back home again.

He said "Get up. Let's go." Then he realized she was dead.

He cut her into a dozen pieces And sent them to his friends.

And a dozen pieces of concubine Brought 400,000 men,

Fighting for the Levite Against the tribe of Benjamin.

The first day 22,000 Isrealites Had fallen by the sword

Of 25,000 Benjaminites But they were fighting against The Lord.

They went up to the priests, To asked them what to do.

The Lord said "Keep on fighting Till the end is through."

Another 18,000 died They cried "What should we do?"

"Attack again tommorow", said god, "My strength will be with you."

They finnally beat the Benjaminites Then they went to town,

To kill the families and livestock And burn the whole place down.

This was all because, Some wanted to rape a man,

Who sent his wive to her death And sent peices across the land.

Maybe 100,000 people died In these 3 glorious days

These are the books we push on our kids, And pride our moral ways.

Look it up. That's a bible story they don't teach you in Sunday school. Chris and I laughed about the idea of making a comic book of scary bible stories. This next song is a more common bible story.

Abraham was going to kill his son. x4 <<<CHOROUS

Abraham heard voices in his head, Saying "Prove you fear me slice your child dead."

And if he wasn't completely insane, He might have checked with his friends about the state of his brain,

But he took his knife and took his son and took a walk instead.

CHOROUS

Now it seems to me that any good man Would realize somethings wrong at hand.

Just seems a good time to get away, When disembodied voices say, "Kill your family" sorry but that's mad.

CHOROUS

Took him to the mountain Built an alter tied him to it, Raised the knife above his head

He was going to do it. Abraham, Abraham, He was going to do it, Abraham.

Them voices in his head Said "Abe give the boy a chance,

I was only testing you Thank you for the dance,

Abraham, Abraham. Thank you for the dance now Abraham."

It's a story that we all know, I guess we never thought about it though.

Fore father of our family Sounds a little disfunctional to me.

Give it up it's ancient, let it go.

repeat CHOROUS until they get the message.

This next song further vents the frustration I feel towards belief in supreme beings running this place.

People preparing their whole lives to die, Then you will be dead,

Aint nothing there but worms my friend, Get it through your head.

I hate to pop your bubble, But soon you could be dead.

Aint no god or Santa Claus, Get it through your head.

Bible studies bru-ha-ha, Then you will be dead.

Don't teach our kids those scary tales, Get it through your head

Better enjoy your life my friend, Cause then you will be dead.

We could have just a few years left, Get it through your head.

Don't look forward to the appocolypse Because you will be dead.

And the world needs our attention Get it through your head.

We don't know where others go I guess it's cause they're dead.

Got to love life cause it's yours Get it through your head.

Aint no silly place to go, You just will be dead.

A bunch of myths and hallucinations Get it through your head.

You even miss the limo ride You just lie there dead.

Don't wait to have you party then Get it through your head.

So go and live a happy life Cause then you will be dead.

Aint no reasons but your own Get it through your head.

JERRY DIES

When I got to work one day, I got a call from Rene. Jerry Garcia died. I asked a couple of questions and passed on my love. I didn't know what to do. I locked the door and hid in the back for a moment to be alone and think about this. Jerry deid. I had to run down the streets and tell any one who cared. What if I was wrong? I had to be sure. I introduced Jen and Rene to the Grateful Dead, I had seen way more shows than both of them put together. What do they know about the Greateful Dead that I didn't know. Yea that was it, I felt better, I would be the one telling them if something as enormous as this happened. Rene wouldn't just call and say that though. I opened up the yellow pages to the news catagory and the only thing that wasn't long distance was the local Westerly News. I called them and asked if it was true. The guy answered, "Yes, I'm sorry it is.". Shitty little newspaper! I felt like calling the rest until some one saId "Jerry who? No I haven't heard that."

I didn't feel like running or even being with people. I smoked a joint in the store and sat around for a half hour to let it dissapate and I could relax. I opened the door and lit a candle and lit another when it burned out. A few people I hugged and cried with but just as many joked and most just wondered what was up or didn't notice anything. I locked the door again later to talk to Pablo. My parents even called. The next morning Mike came up and told me to take the day off. Nice guy. I hitched back to Ucluelet and Colleen met me for coffee at the diner and had brought me a card and gave me a hug. I finally clicked in that every thing would be all right. I was in a beautiful place, my job was great and my bosses cared deeply for me, every thing was going to be O.K. I took the day and a bag of weed to the coast and cried all day. When I started to enjoy myself I would think of how Bob or Phil or everyone feels, to cry again. I realized that I was experiencing a day of mourning. I had never done it before but I best to mourn all day. I slept against a tree in the rain and went back to work the next day. I knew that I would always be sad but I had made great efforts to deal with it and I felt better because of it. One of my first thoughts when Rene told me that Jerry died, was sadness for all the people who never saw a show.

LEAVING THE COAST

I had worked all summer and it came and went wonderfully. I really liked where I was at but I was making lots of money. I decided to save money briefly and go far away. I liked the idea of going into and maybe through Central America and a lot of my Tofino friends had reccomended it. I offered Owen the bus at the same sweet deal I got it at, what you can afford to put down and pay the rest off, he agreed and promised that he would be faithful in paying. I gave him my bank account number and worked a few more weeks before saddly leaving the coast.

I hitched up to Edmonton to say good-bye to them, Jen was pregnant again! I stayed for a week or two and was going to hitch to Toronto to say good-bye there before heading south but winter showed up. I bought a return ticket to Toronto and stayed for a week in one long hello and goodbye party. I flew back to Edmonton and realized that I had spent most of my money already. Owen still owed me lots but hadn't paid me anything yet. I but a sell off ticket for a week in Mazatlan. I called Owen and told him that I was going to Mexico and please put money in my account.

There was a bus from the airport for about $8. When it got to Mazatlan the road signs said downtown one way and "zone touriste" the other way. The bus turned into the tourist zone. I got off and walked out of the MacDonald's and Kentucky Friend Chicken zone and headed downtown along the ocean road. I stopped for a beer at a couple of places and twice I was suggested to go to the same hotel. I walked until I found it. It looked run down and weathered from the outside, from the inside too, but once inside I marvelled at the thousands of beautifully hand painted ceramic tiles that lined the walls of the grand lobby. My room was big with a balconey looking west over the ocean. They had a pool that was a coullage of the painted tiles. This was plenty comfortable to me and cost me just $10 a night.

I spent a few hours the first night walking around having a beer here and there trying to meet people. One guy took me on a walking tour of the markets and churches of downtown Mazatlan. I met a couple of Canadian girls from Victoria one who had been at the Clayquot logging protests. I offered to buy them dinner the next day and show them the markets and churches that I was shown. A couple of people suggested that I go to Stone Island. I was told that it was right across the harbour from Mazatlan and it had remote beautiful beaches and I suggested it to the girls and they agreed to go with me. We went the next day and basiccally just lay in the sun, the shade and the water for days, always drunk. My money soon was running low and Owen hadn't put any in the account. I decided to use my return ticket to go back to Edmonton aand promised myself to return to Mexico again later and not to be such a Gringo tourist next time. With the remainder of my money I bought gifts for my friends and made arrangements to go to the airport in the morning. When I landed back in Edmonton no one was expecting me and I took a cab from the airport to Jen and Rene's. It didn't look like anyone was home and I realized that I had left 30 degrees celcius in Mexico and a few hours later I was standing in -30 degrees, still in sandals, hoping that my friends were home. Luckily they were and we drank some tequilla that I brought back as I told them of my trip.

I found myself a job working for a painter who wasn't very reliable. I was being paid $6 an hour and often ending up waiting outside in the s now for the boss to show up late. I called Owen and asked him what was up. He told me that he would have money in my bank right away and 3 days later a mere $100 showed up. I heard that someone else was leaving Movies and Munchies and I called Mike to see if he would hire me back. He said not only would he hire me back but he offered to fly me there. I thanked him but made my own way down and was happy to be back.

BACK TO THE COAST

Mike told me that he thought Owen had been stealing from him. I hurried to see him and he bulllshitted that Mike was being an ass and he was going to go to Grouse Mountain in Vancouver and work the winter there. I didn't like the bus to leave without him paying me and he owed money to Chris to. If he could afford to move the bus off the Island he better do some paying off first. He just split and left the bus. The bus was a mess and it stunk of piss and I didn't want any part of it anymore. Owen's brother had now been hobbling around town on crutches months after apparently hurting his_ back lifting cheese at Roman's. There were empty candy wrappers and beer cans all over the bus. The tree house that they were living in, proud of their roughing it lifestyle, was left like a pig sty. A garbage dump in the pristine jungle. I felt guilty for helping these to idiots and spent a few days hiking out to and taking garbage from their treehouse. I was happy to see these assholes leave. Owen promised that he would send me money but I didn't think that I would hear from him again and mostly hoped not.

BUILD MY OWN TREE HOUSE

I worked two days a week in Tofino and started building my own tree house. I chose a place far enough away and hard enough to get to that no one would want to hike there. Once far enough away, I started looking for streams. The first stream I found, I poked my head into the bushes where it came from and the scene was a beautiful, small shaded and protected clearing with an enourmous fallen tree lying down through the middle. The roots of the tree stood up about 15 feet from the ground. They were twisted and knotty and mossy and erie as only a good spooky tree in the jungle could be. It added to the magic of this place as I walked around. This was the place. I wish I were there now.

It had fresh water, it was far enough away and hard to get to, I liked it lots and went looking for conveinient piles of drift wood that lay scattered on the shore. I was in a protected bay that had gathered mountains of drift wood. Huge logs were piled up like a burm marking the last, really high tide. The bay had a smaller more protected bay on the far side and at low tide the white bottom of crushed shell pebbles made the water look a bright, almost luminescent, blue. I picked up a couple of pieces of people milled lumber that had washed up and brought them back to the site.

I tied a hammock between two trees off to the side to stay away from the building site and hung a tarp over my head. It was October and winters here were comparitively as severe as Edmonton. Even though the winter months in Ucluelet, probably average at about 4 or 5 degrees Celcius opposed to the frigid -30's of the praries, it just rained and rained and rained. I thought about all my friends in town who work outside in this every day doing really hard work, I could do it too and I had no boss I would work as hard and as long as I like. I lay awake a while that first night listening to the gurgling of the stream, the wind in the trees and the power of the ocean.

The next day I wandered along the shores carrying, dragging and tumbling the biggest and flattest peices I could find. They were all wet and heavy, the walking was rugged and slippery, this was a big task. I dug to holes and put two posts in them. About four feet off the ground I notched them and tied and nailed a peice of people wood across them parrallel and at the same height as the fallen tree. I lay the big flat guys from beam to tree for my floor. It was a big and rough floor but I knew that it was sturdy and I could pretty it up later or even change it if it didn't work out.

Fires were slow starting because of the rain but no real problem. The driftwood was mostly red cedar. It cracked open and split clean as a board with a crack from my hatchet, my only tool. The inside of the wood was still nice and dry and burnt great. Clean as a board. I had heard of boards made by slitting wood and this cedar split so well that I went in search of a log to try and split. I picked a big straight peice with few knots and placed my hatchet in a crack and knocked it in with some wood. Not much happened but when I used wood wedges to try and free my hatchet I heard a crack and noticed that sure enough a crack was developing. I pounded in more wedges until I got to the end and the log rolled over split in two. The smell of the freshly cut cedar is enough to make you want to cut more but the sheerness of the two cut surfaces was equalling encouraging. I stared trying to rip boards fom either side. It took a few alot of hours but I eventually got about 7 boards that where probably near 20' long, 16" wide and 4" thick! Big ass boards! I was thrilled! My plan of attack became, cut a bunch of boards, carry them all home, pick and choose the right ones and build. I tried a few more logs but didn't have an easy time like the first one but I still got a few more boards. I started bringing home what I cut. It was only a few hunderd yards to my site but the walking was so difficult. I was constantly up and down big rocks and logs. It was like walking on huge unevevn steps with big, wet lumber on your back. After taking four trips with one board each time, I was exhausted. I decided to put them up and cut more later. I overlapped them and nailed them to the two uprights making my back wall. I had a wall! I went to sleep proud of my wall.

Mike and Colleen decided to go to Mexico. I worked eached day for two weeks at the two stores after that I was into working just the weekends so that I could spend 5 days a week at the tree house.

BERT VISITS

Bert called from Edmonton and mentoined that he was stressed. He told me that he was going to take a week vacation and come visit. He arrived a week later or the next, at Movies and Munchies. It took me a minute to recognize him when he walked in because he walked in and said hi as casually as any of the customers. I returned the greeting. I looked quickly again and saw it was my buddy Bert! I gave him a big hug and we sat and laughed and drank coffee and watched movies long into the night.

We hitched to Ucluelet where I showed him around and took him to the tree house. We stayed awake most of the night huddled by the campfire. I remember getting something out of my knapsack, probably pot, and my knapsack was covered in frost that was an inch thick and stood up like an organized battalion of icy snowflakes. I turned around to show Bert and his back was covered with thick frost also. I checked my shoulder and sure enough we had been facing the fire so long that we grew deep frost on our backs. I gave Bert the priviledge o¡f the hammock and I went to sleep under the floor. Bert told me the next day that he wanted to hurry up and return to Edmonton so he could break up with his girlfriend and quit his job and come back here all the sooner, and hopefully warmer and I said goodbye to Bert and thanked him for coming.

I cut beams during the day and framed up the roof, walls and door. I enjoyed many wonderful hikes and campfires. I was loving my home. I tried cutting shakes and soon became a master. With a machete and a hatchet I cut some times 30 shakes from a peice of driftwood. They where often 3' long, 2' wide and just a quarter inch thick! At the beginning they were wonkier than later but they were easier to cut and carry than the big boards. I put them up to cover the walls.

One day Bert wandered back. I came to the tree house and there he was having a campfire. I yodeled from many points away and shook my arms in the air. Bert returned the caveman greeting and I hurried to meet him at the fire. He had quit his job and his girlfriend and come out to where frost grows on your back. I felt reassured that I wasn't too crazy, at least not alone at it anyways. We threw a tarp over the framed roof and I slept my first night in the tree house.

The tarp sagged and puddles dripped on us and I realized that it was time to make the roof. For three days I cut and carried shingles. I cut numerous cross beams and working from a scaffolding made of stumps I finnished the roof about a week later. I shingled my last wall and we waited for a down pour. It was nice and dry and I was very proud of my roof but I needed to see the water just run off of it. When it had rained hard there were a few leaks. I was still pretty proud in fact Lake Claquot, very close, was the rainiest place in North America that year and my roof protected me well from it.

I finnished my walls and built a door and windows.

THE KITCHEN

To avoid rain on our campfires and even get a little shelter ourselves, we would have our fires on a ledge that had an overhanging rock. We eventually hung a tarp for more protection. I didn't want tarps and we decided to try another overhang that didn't have room to stand and was closer to the tree line. We threw rocks out from underneath it in order to make it deeper and to have a wind wall to protect the bushes near by. When we gathered the fire wood we saw that our wind wall went almost up to the overhang. We pitched more rocks from the inside on top of the pile and had room enough to stand in side and we had built a rock wall. We stood outside of it and looked at it and decided to take down our wall and all the rest of the rocks inside and leans beams up against the overhang. We nailed boards across the beams and stacked rocks against the slanted wood walls disguising our kitchen as part of the cliff. The next morning I rolled a massive flat stone into the kitchen and slipped a couple off peices of wood under it. I lifted one side a bit at a time and slid under more sticks. I had soon built a log cabin style pedestal for the rock a the right hieght and just in front of where I wanted it. I built a sopport for where I wanted it to sit and woke Bert. Together we put it in place. We cooked fatty pancakes, with fresh berries, and made a pot of coffee. All mornings progressed to making a fire and boiling water with loads of coffee grinds. The boiling water wouldn't froth just right without the magic figure 8 stirring technique. The boiling water was then poured through a strainer, with the help of pot holders (sleeves), and Bert and I would clink our cups together and yell a grand "OLE!!". Such was the christening of the Ole Cafe.

I brought in flat rocks and lay them carefully down as loor tiling with gravel in between. The bottom was on a hill so I made the floor 3 big flat steps going down from the enterance. At the bottom was a bench and beside it was a set of cascading shelves. The middle step had a counter and another seat and at the top was the fire place at stomach height and the crack up the side worked like a chimmeny. It was a great creation. We loved it.

MORE BUILDING

I built a porch in front of my home with steps from the ground and thought about building an addition. I cut the lumber and framed the floor right over the stream. I framed the roof leaning down away form the house and my shingles were so nice by now I made myself a new bedroom with no leaks at all. I streched a peice of fish net between two beams and called it my bed. I built shelves and a table and we built a big bonfire and lay the table on top for a few moments and then wire brushed off the charred wood to leave the grain dark and standing out.

I was pretty frightened of the heights avaiable from some of the trees and put a beam as high as I dare go in between two trees. It was a pretty scary experience so I left it alone for a while. When Bert got there I new that some one could at least drag me out if I got hurt and I felt more confident to climb. I stretched a log from the top of the roots to a branch in the other tree. We brought a couple more and nailed them in place. We nailed down boards across as steps and made ourselves a bridge to the other tree. From there I leaned to peices to my highest beam that I had put up more than a month ago. We put stair on the peices and where safely up to the beam. The tree branched into three different trunks and we made a small platform there. We looked up and knew where we wanted to get to. We cut two long sturdy beams and nailed them along the tree as we climbed and added more steps til the top. We framed and supported the floor and put down wood. We went back down to smoke a joint. What to build up there? We didn't want to make anything that would be visible. "Let's build a nest.", I suggested and we laughed so well that we agreed. Bert gathered lots of brush while I hoisted it up and wove it around the nest. When we were done, I turned over the dirt in the newly created clearing and planted vegetables.

Later we had accumulated so much big lumber, what to do with it became an immediate question because there was enough nice peices to put a hefty start on any job. We decided on an upper deck where the brige was. We took down the bridge and nailed for long beams fanning out. We lay boards across and in no time had a high and spacious deck.

One friend who would visit me at work mentioned suicidal thoughts in his life. Sad to hear of it I wrote him this poem.

Too much sorrow, too much pain.

Still tommorrow come again.

Rule of lands, make it rain,

Wash my hands, wash my brain.

Bring me freedom, bring me calm,

I don't like the trip I'm on,

So what's the matter with me?

To serve to all a dead man's meal

Thanks for the ball, thanks for the wheel.

It's in contrast to what we feel,

And that downcasts our strength of real.

Without that we dare not test,

We'd never know if it was best.

So what's the matter with me?

Time behind and time ahead,

Is all I got until I'm dead.

THE MUSIC ROOM

Dropping firewood on the rocks near a campfire alerted us to the beautiful tones these big peices of cedar had. We talked about making music with them and one day we decided to build xylophones. We went to a place where the enterance was hidden by jutting out rocks that up high and in between opened up in a natual little amphitheater. We built a floor over the water in the middle and built a wooden ring all around to hang the xylophones. We collected lots of great wood and tied the pieces together and hung them up. Finding the peices was fun. We would climb around piles of driftwood and hit all the peices with our drum sticks, more like mallets. The beautiful ones rang true and clean. "Freshly Tumbled Beach" was far away but offered many knapsacks and arm fulls of freshly tumbled peices that were all nice.

THE BIRTH OF HARLEY-BOO

Rene called me at work one day and told me that Jen was dialated to 3 centimeters. He asked me to come and take care of Kassidy while he takes care of Jen. I explained my work schedule and told him that I would try to be there next week. After I hung up the phone I considered the shocking news I had just been told by Rene about his wife, he asked for my help, I had to go. I called Mike and explained and he promised to take my shift until I got back. I hurried up to Edmonton. Jen was really big and I stayed for almost 2 weeks before I told them that I was going to have to leave soon. In order to make my next Saturday morning shift I was going to have to leave the next Thursday night at the latest. Thursday afternoon we dropped Kassidy off at Grandma's and Jen announced that we should get to the hospital. She had her baby that night, Harley Aura, and they let me in the room during the birth.

After the nurses clean and showed Harley to mom, they put her in a crib on the far side of the room and took care of Jen. I snuck over and gave her my finger to hold and hummed to her for a half hour or so until they took her back to Jen.

THE NETS

Past Freshly Tumbled Beach was the Place of Nets. A monstorous knot of fishing net had washed up here. Bert and I spent more than a whole day there seperating the different nets. We brought most of it back to the tree house. I hung two lengths as swings, one biggy near the stone house and another sillier swing that took you on an ariel tour of the garden. We considered what to do with the biggest pieces.

We thought about a bridge over the house from the nest across to another tree. This was 40' high and to be taken cautiously. From the platform on the way up to the nest, we tied one end of a long thin peice of net, Bert dared to climb the other tree and secure the other end. I crawled out slowly on our bridge at the test height. One of my slip knots slipped and I was left dangling and frightened. This was difficult for Bert to realize from the crouched down position he was hysterically laughing from. I laughed too. He helped me back to security and we decide to try an even lower height. We strung the net as low as the upper deck across and made certain the knots were tight. I went out again and this time I safely returned by myself. Bert went out. We both played in the net for hours and it was named the Super Sky Hammock. We decided to leave it where it was. I pulled the biggest net across the Super Sky Hammock and tied it in about 8 places to various trees and branches. This was Big Blue. Big blue was about 25 or 30 feet off the ground and I built a gang plank about 10' above it. What a great game! Jumping out of tree tops in to Big Blue. I slept many night up in Big Blue, it was a very comfortable place to sleep. When it got dark, you couldn't see the net and it felt like you were floating in the trees, swaying in the wind with them and just looking up at the stars.

The wild life was incredible! Whales migrated past our campfires, seals barked if we walked by without waving or saying hi. Bald eagles nested all over the coast and we spent alot of time watching them glide with out ever flapping their wings. Bears were occasionaly seen on the beach and there foot prints marked the trails. Cougar prints were also very noticible but no other signs of them came our way.

I encouraged and helped Bert start building a far away and hidden place of his own. As great as it was having a dear friend to share this with, I was feeling that the beauty of the solitude of my home was declining the longer my guest stayed. We talked about it and Bert got a job in Tofino at the fish plant and found accomidation on an island near by taking care of a oyster farm. He met a cute girlfriend and it was a while before Bert visited the tree house again.

Winter was returning and I brought a bag of cement from town and gathered rocks and built myself a fireplace in the tree house. I spent a lot of time visiting the seals who lived in my bay and lots of time in the music room. By Christmas I felt unedged when I realized that this was my 3rd winter on the coast. This had become my longest stay yet, and they kept getting longer. Was I settling down? I felt I was. Old me of past would say to the new me "Get out and keep moving!". I decided to try my thumb at travelling again. I didn't last long at it, I got down to Fresno and got frightened by gun toting gangs of kids, who mistook me for an adult, and I hopped on a Greyhound back for the Island. I went back to the tree house and prepared my self for what settling down might mean to me. I decided to give school a try. If I could live in a tree house that long surely I could tough it through school and end up with an easy job somewhere. I spoke to friends who all seemed to agree that this could be a good idea.

Thinking of how Larry and other friends feel close relations to certain animals I have often pondered what animal might be my brother. The only answer I came up with was all of them. This song played with that thought.

Mikeys farm, holy ark. Made of driftwood and birch bark.

Mikey's zoo, come and see, the animals inside me.

Hyenas chasing Monkeys round, mice are singing songs.

Bats are in the attic they been up there for so long.

Survival sisters Pork and Cow wrestling on the ground.

Eagle keeps an eye on things while Giraffes are looking round.

Rooster rides a Rhino cruising Chicks for love

Doesn't really realize what they're frightened of.

The Wolf the might loner doing his own thing.

Tortoise drags behind, observing everything.

My dear friend Mr. Mole has dug a deep hole next to my soul.

CHOROUS

There are nights Hyenas cry, Bats go wild, full moon up high.

Monkeys chase the Mice for thrills, Lone Wolf howls on the hills.

Eagle rests Girraffe stands gaurd something's happening in the yard.

Survival sisters just for kicks taunt the cock with puppet chicks.

Mole digs deep can't take no more, Tortoise says we've all seen this before.

CHOROUS

Storm clouds capture the light of the moon, Hyenas run they'll be gone soon.

Mice and Monkeys hide together Lone Wolf gonna bear the weather.

Gaurds have all stopped looking round, they all know what's going down,

Survival sisters sing to show they're braver than the Cock's Rhino.

Tortoise on his slow retreat stops at Mole's to rest his feet,

Finds the mice all singing there, trying to turn the weather fair.

If it weren't for them you'd never know Pork and Cow may run the show.

CHOROUS

Pork goes high and Cow goes low, surprise attack on Cock's Rhino

Rooster flys away in fright sayins "Aint no Chicks round here tonight"

Mice somewhere can be heard in song, sweet little voices lingering on.

Hyenas and Monkeys return to the scene, to hear the mice sing so serene.

Eagle, eyes shut, to feel each note. bathed in warm updraft just seems to float.

Cock and Rhino coming near to hear the songs they love to hear.

Tortoise and Mole sipping their tea saying mice are such pleasant company.

Mice raise their cups in a genuine toast, "To the humble Mole the kindest of host!"

"In your home we feel like family . Holy Moley, man, what's in this tea?"

BACK TO MY FAMILY IN EDMONTON

I decided to look at a college on the Island where I might be taught how to program computers. At least I would be close to the tree house and if I could program computers I thought that I could do it from anywhere and with my first sold program I should buy a solar pannel for the tree house, my office to be. I spoke with Rene and he asked why don't I come to Edmonton. I realized that he was right if I was going to do two years somewhere. I wanted to be near the kids. They had an old apple computer in their basement and we figured if I was going to take computers in school it would be a good start for me to play with this one.

A lot of people had told me that I should write a book, It's about 1:30 a.m., I've had a few beers and my alarm is set for 5 a.m. to hop on my bike and go to work.

I've written a book! Hope you've enjoyed it!

WHAT HAPPENED NEXT

So I wrote and book, but ther was more.

I wrote the book on an old Apple 2c computer. It was in a stack of 5.25 inch floppy disks that no modern computer to read. For a while it seemed like my book was lost unless you wanted to read it off of a little green screen.

I figured that I could hire some one to type it out but I checked around.

I called 1-800-Apple help line alot, I called universities, hackers, translators, nobody had the equipment to deal with my archaic discs.

I checked the Bargain Finder weekly to find some one selling a slightly new version of my computer. Gene King placed an ad for an Apple 2 GS. It was loaded and I called him and asked if I could use it. Really nice guy, he delivered his computer to me, on loan, having never met. With Gene's computer I was able to save my book onto the more modern 3.5 inch discs. I was thrilled but still nothing could read them. I was looking at having to spend $200 to either the translator or a typist. I didn't have the money yet to do the whole publishing, so I kept looking around.

I had been bouncing from job to job just trying to find something comfortable. I ended up at Fast Fence working for a nice couple, Art and Gennine, putting up temporary fence around construction sites. We also did the occasionnal concert and other events. I liked driving around and seeing our fence all over town. There were lots of out of town jobs requiring alot of driving, I loved it.

THIS HAPPENED BEFORE

Jen had been making and selling dies at festivals and on Whyte Ave. all summer. Rene was driver and babysitter. One morning they called me needing to use the dryer in my building. They were 5 minutes away. I lit a smoke and my right lung colapsed. I didn't know what was going on. My side just really hurt alot and I could barely breathe. I hobbled down the stairs to let in Jen and Rene when the got there and tell them of this wicked pain that I was hoping would go away soon. We hobbled back upstairs and Rene took Jen to Whyte ave. and then came back for me. I had called my Dad and he recognised the symtoms and told me it had collapsed, go to a hospital. I hobbled back downstairs and Rene was there soon.

He took me to the hospital. They X-rayed me and showed Rene the picture of my lung. They said that it had deflated 25% and there was just air where there used to be lung. Common procedure, we're going to cut a hole in your chest and stick in a tube to let ther air out so the lug can refill itself. It sounded like it made sense and then they handed me a consent form to sign. Why are they giving me this? What they hell do I know about chest valves? Maybe another doctor should sign this. I called my dad and he said that it was common procedure and the right thing to do. I signed but wanted to pass the pen to Rene to stress my dilema.

They closed the curtain, injected a local anesthetic, and cut a small slice in my chest. Then out came this long tube that was to be my valve, it was alot bigger than I imagined. I was pretty scared and then he shoved and shoved this thing deep in my chest and I was in shock. They openned the curtains and there was Rene and I cried as he held me. Jen showed up soon and I cried again. I was sent home and Rene took me in the next day to hopefully have the valve removed. They X-rayed me again and my lung was down to 50%, they said I needed an operation.

They sent me to another hospital and under total anesthetic they cut a couple of holes and went in with a stapler to close leaks and a camera to find them. Before leaving my chest they scraped up the inside so that the lung would scar to the rib cage and never collapse again.

I woke up with a nurse asking me who I was and what happened. She was very serious and I couldn't remember and why didn't she know? I figured that I might have been in a car accident. I told the nurse to call Jen and Rene, they would know what happened.

Jen came to the hospital and I felt better, but I was sore and there were many more tubes sticking out of me. My friends nursed me back to heath.

Now I'm finnished. I hope to print up my first 100 copies next paycheque.

Thanks again, Hope I did O.K.

love

Mike!

