Technical Update #1. Posted by: Yaya
I've come in a bit late, I know, but on the other hand we haven't even bought the truck yet. I just feel that I need to add some details to an already engrossing story. And I've read the book…
Let me start with Stu's stereo. He actually built those speakers himself. They were so sturdy that believe it or not they still exist and are living in a very strange house in Southern France. I think their new owners have changed the front western bar motif which always seemed to me a weird choice when particularly stoned. But hey Stuart is a strange guy.
In one end of his large bedroom there was a wardrobe in which my father used to keep his work suits. My father worked in the insurance business and hated it. As the evening progressed he would get increasingly edgy about the next day and around 11 o'clock he would drag himself upstairs to get his suit. Now invariably, in those days, there would be 3, 4, 5 very stoned freaks, lying round the room, not saying much. He would knock politely and then come in, give us all a cursory glance , at which point we would shuffle or cough in a welcoming manner. He probably couldn't see very far due to the smoke.
It was about twenty years later that he raised the question of the strange smell in the bedroom.
As for the bottle, it morphed into the bedrooms ashtray so that there was always the smell of stale fags in the air.
Anyway , back to Bertha. I was very excited at the prospect of travelling through Europe in such a cool pulling machine but I cannot take all the credit for the idea. It was the thing to do. What else? Unfettered and alive. The Champs Elysees! Tall dutch girls on bicycles! The road! The wisdom it would fill us all with.
None of us had any qualms, everything would be fine. One never ending, sunny, truck-luscious far-out summer ahead. To tell you the truth I thought this would last longer than just one season, but I was keeping that to myself.
Off to Vauxhall then. To R&R Services to find our baby...
Let me start with Stu's stereo. He actually built those speakers himself. They were so sturdy that believe it or not they still exist and are living in a very strange house in Southern France. I think their new owners have changed the front western bar motif which always seemed to me a weird choice when particularly stoned. But hey Stuart is a strange guy.
In one end of his large bedroom there was a wardrobe in which my father used to keep his work suits. My father worked in the insurance business and hated it. As the evening progressed he would get increasingly edgy about the next day and around 11 o'clock he would drag himself upstairs to get his suit. Now invariably, in those days, there would be 3, 4, 5 very stoned freaks, lying round the room, not saying much. He would knock politely and then come in, give us all a cursory glance , at which point we would shuffle or cough in a welcoming manner. He probably couldn't see very far due to the smoke.
It was about twenty years later that he raised the question of the strange smell in the bedroom.
As for the bottle, it morphed into the bedrooms ashtray so that there was always the smell of stale fags in the air.
Anyway , back to Bertha. I was very excited at the prospect of travelling through Europe in such a cool pulling machine but I cannot take all the credit for the idea. It was the thing to do. What else? Unfettered and alive. The Champs Elysees! Tall dutch girls on bicycles! The road! The wisdom it would fill us all with.
None of us had any qualms, everything would be fine. One never ending, sunny, truck-luscious far-out summer ahead. To tell you the truth I thought this would last longer than just one season, but I was keeping that to myself.
Off to Vauxhall then. To R&R Services to find our baby...
posted by Mark Gamon at 6:21 pm
7 Comments:
Freak. How long is it since anyone used that word? I can remember whole evenings in the pub trying to explain to my Dad what it felt like to be a freak. He never got it, but he bought several rounds...
Dads seem to be the theme du jour here, don't they?
wanna be on the bus. NOW.
Please climb on board, Anonymous. If you get yourself a blogger identity, we'll even give you an honorary hitchhiker link.
Even if you don't want that it would help to know who you are?
Anonymous might be a freak? I'm either too sheltered or too stupid to know what a freak was. Unless it was the term for druggies? Which is what we used to call hippies too comatose from pot to do standard hippie-type things, such as communing with nature or growing vegetables and other leafy greens.
I'm beginning to think I've overdone the marijuana thing here. However in our defence I should point out that we were technically post-hippies. And therefore fully capable of growing vegetables. I may publish a picture of Yaya's garden shortly to prove my point.
It occurs to me that with the publication of the Bertha Blook we may even have turned into post-modern hippies. Self-referential and everything. I'm going to have to think about that one for a while...
And why are we talking about leafy greens already? I haven't even introduced Paul yet...
How did Pat get past the comittee, cool as a cucumber an appreciation of cheap drugs?
Is there a public school thing he is hiding?
Your readers should know.
the more oiks the merrier
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