relationships

cocaine dreams ~ a love story pt 4

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as jake was pulling into a parking spot near frank and mary’s home he noticed frank getting out of his car parked in the tiny driveway.  frank spotted him as well.  jake waved and crossed the street. 

jake, my man.  you aren’t going to believe this.  i hope you’re ready for it.

sounds good.  i can’t wait.

the two men walked up the stairs and frankie opened the front door.  as always lake merritt sparkled below.  once the door was closed frankie became even more animated.

let’s go in the den.  you have to see this to believe it.  fucking amazing.

jake greeted the girls and they all followed frankie into the den.  once in the den frank waited for everyone to settle down then pulled out a solid rock of cocaine.  it must have weighed at least a half pound.  it was huge.  jake’s jaw dropped.

this my friends is 99% peruvian flake.  it doesn’t get any better than this. 

frankie set the rock of coke on a mirror.  then he found a new razor blade, one that was normally used for taking paint off windows.  he carefully cleaned the oil off the new blade then proceeded to slice very thin pieces of coke from the rock.  everyone watched with rapt attention.  then he took the slices and quickly and expertly minced them up on the mirror with the blade.  when he was finished he produced a short silver tube and handed it to mary.

ladies first.

after all of them had sampled the cocaine they sat back and enjoyed the rush.

frankie that is some amazing coke.  truly amazing.

glad you like it jake. 

damn straight.  i’ll take a gram.

make it two.  stephanie chimed in.

you got it.  so, mary how did the project go?

frankie started to work on the order.  mary got up and went into another room.  when she came back in she was holding a very stylish rock ‘n’ roll style jacket.  it was black with white piping around the collar and cuffs.  the lining was white silk.  she turned the jacket semi inside out and spoke.

steph and i made the small pockets out of some white silk.  the color almost matches.  then we sewed the pockets onto the jacket lining.  we tried them out using some paper packets filled with sugar.  you can’t tell a thing.  pretty much perfect.

perfect indeed.  thanks ladies.  very very cool.  jake, we’re getting ready for the stones concert at the oakland coliseum in a few weeks. 

yeah, we tried to get tickets but it sold out fast.  you guys were very lucky.

frankie just smiled and handed jake a packet of the peruvian flake.

$95 for two.

thanks, frankie.

not a problem.  have another hit.

don’t mind if we do.

stephanie and jake spent another twenty minutes or so with frank and mary before they split to head back to jake’s place.  as they got to jake’s car stephanie asked.

how’s mr bubble doing?  i don’t remember.

we better stop and get some.

ok.  may as well steal a few straws as well.

the pair stopped at the 7-11 and jake scored the straws along with a bottle of mr bubble.  as he was leaving the store jake found a $5 bill one the ground by the door.  he picked it up went back in and gave it to the clerk saying.

someone must have dropped this.

the clerk looked at him like he was crazy.  jake just laughed.  when jake got back to the car he told stephanie about the five spot.

i wondered what you were doing.  you know you’re crazy. 

probably.

they both laughed.

the victorian was empty when they got back to it.  another night with the place to themselves. 

cool.  much better than sharing anything and we get the bath for as long as we want it.

yes.  true.  hey, check this shirt out.

jake showed stephanie a shirt with a large blood stain on the left shirttail.

haha.  you had to have been wearing that shirt the last time we had sex.

the blood on jake’s shirt was from stephanie’s period.

yep.  i didn’t notice until later.  pretty funny.  huh?

we were lucky i guess.  haha.

the two were talking about a ride one evening out in the hills around corte madera.  there was a full moon and the dead winter grass looked just like shimmering snow in that bright early summer moonlit night.  a lonely two lane blacktop wound through the hills.  they were the only car on the road.

stephanie suggested that, ‘they do it in the road’, just like the beatles song.  jake was amenable but the road, even with a blanket, was a bit too hard for both of them.  jake suggested they try the grass along side the road.  he took the blanket and laid it out on the dead grass.

the grass was much softer and things went well until they began to slide down the hill locked together in an embrace.  they slid for a good twenty feet before they came to a stop against a small tree.  they were both laughing.

the hike back up the hill was something.

yeah, but not before you earned your red wings that night.  i had fun.

i know you did.  me too.  you had a great idea, steph.

yes, i did.  now, let’s get into that flake.

for the next several hours the two did indeed get into the almost pure peruvian flake.  some wine and weed as well.

oh, boy.  very nice.  i think it’s mr. bubble time before we can’t manage it.

good point.  let’s do it.

they snorted another line then collected what they needed for the bath.  weed, papers, wine, some cut up coke, and of course the bottle of mr. bubble.  the hot bath with bubbles was as always very nice.  the usual ritual of smoking some weed mixed with coke was made even more amazing that night with the flake.  several laced joints later they retired back into the bedroom.  jake said he needed a glass of water. 

he left the room and went to the kitchen sink.  he found a clean glass and drank some water.  as he stood at the sink electric shock waves ran up and down his spine.  electrical explosions rocked his brain.  neurons and synapses crackled inside his head.  sparks were probably shooting from his ears.  he held on tight.  but lost track of time and place.  jake wasn’t sure how long he had been standing at the sink.  he finally made it back to the bedroom and stephanie asked him where he had been.

been?  i was in the kitchen getting a glass of water.

you were gone for so long i went looking for you.  i went into the kitchen.  i didn’t see you.  i looked in every room.  i even went out on the back porch.  jake, you weren’t anywhere here in the house.

you didn’t see me?  i was there at the sink.  are you sure?

positive.  i went into the kitchen.  twice.  i looked around and did not see you.

sweet jesus.  that’s weird.  i remember standing there and then nothing.  then i remember standing there again and i came back in here.  are you sure?

yes, jake.  i’m very sure.

weird.

to this day jake isn’t sure what really happened that night in the kitchen of the old victorian.  was he abducted by aliens?  or perhaps he made a jaunt out on some astral plane paying a visit to jupiter or mars?  or went cruising on an old inca road with some long dead indians?  perhaps a voyage with eric the red?  or one to the far east with marco polo?  or was it something else entirely?  only god knows and he ain’t talking.  

at any rate, the story of stephanie and jake slowly began to unravel even further after that night.  jake’s vision of love, white picket fences, and stephanie never came true.  things never got really ugly in the end and there was plenty of pain and angst to go around for the two of them.  for some reason they both made sure of that. 

stephanie eventually moved to somewhere on the west coast of canada north of vancouver.  the last time jake ever heard from her was a very strange letter he received six months or so after she had moved.  a letter that reminded him of a funny yet sad canadian junkie’s letter he’d read in the old humor magazine, ‘national lampoon’. 

jmh           
         

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cocaine dreams ~ a love story pt 3

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waking up and smoking a joint had become a ritual.  it was a good way to start the day.  that and several cigarettes.  when he wasn’t with stephanie he just hung out and collected his unemployment check.  a small sum but enough to keep him in food, drink, and drugs.  plus, a roof over his head and gas for the car.  the car was paid for with the money he’d saved while in vietnam.

the chinese lady he saw at the state unemployment office every two weeks or so was very nice and semi amazed that he never secured a job with the leads she provided him.  as a vet, jake got a little more attention from the folks that worked there.  the thing is he never followed through on any of the leads.  jake’s reasoning being he had done his year in nam and he earned the right to screw off for another year courtesy of whoever.  he didn’t care.  though he knew enough not to say that to the nice chinese lady.  that would have been way to stupid.  even for jake.   

on occasion he made a little extra money working for a concert promoter doing odd jobs here and there for the guy.  like running errands and such. the promoter paid cash so there weren’t any problems with the state or anyone else for that matter.  plus, jake got to see plenty of good live music. 

when jake did see stephanie they spent their time seeing frankie and mary, doing coke, drinking, smoking pot and having sex.  in jake’s words, all in all not a bad deal.  the only trouble being with jake is it seemed his times with stephanie were getting further apart.  jake knew why, he was in love and she wasn’t.  not a big problem really.  but a problem none the less. 

jake began to spend more time with jimmy and bea.  they all got along fairly well and bea and jake kept each other company when jimmy was working and stephanie wasn’t around. 

home alone late one morning jake was napping when the ringing phone woke him up.  it was stephanie.

hello?

hi.

hey, what’s up?

i called last night and you weren’t home.

yeah, i went to see ‘the godfather’ with bea.  the last showing.  got home sorta late.   

i was going to come over.

oh, sorry. 

how was the movie?  i hear it’s great.

best movie i’ve seen in years.  it was a zoo outside the theater. we…

a friend is dropping me off at mary and franks.  come by and pick me up later.  ok?  you can tell me the story tonight.

sure.  what time today? 

late afternoon.  i’m going to help mary with a sewing project she has.

alright.  see you later then.

bye.

jake was thinking stephanie wasn’t real pleased with him spending so much time with bea.  he’d tried to tell her that they were just good friends and besides why was she being so jealous?  she after all wasn’t even in love with jake.  or so she said.  women.

last night had been fun though.  the ‘godfather’ movie had been a spur of the moment thing.  jake had been hearing a lot of good things about the movie and called bea to see what was up.  she was home alone and jake invited her to go see the movie.  hell, he hadn’t seen stephanie in over a week.  bea agreed.

when jake picked bea up they snorted what was left of some coke jake had and smoked a joint of some killer weed a friend had given jake.  all that before they left for the movie theatre.  by the time they got to berkeley and parked they were both pretty well fucked up.  

look at all those people.  the line is around the corner.

jesus.  ok.  bea.  you get in line and i’ll go up front and see what the deal is.

jake wandered up to the box office.  it was like a mob scene from a movie. he was so stoned he wasn’t sure what the deal was.  he asked some of the people in the mob but no one else seemed to know either.  ah, yes.  berkeley in the 70’s.  so jake just stood there trying to figure out what was going on.  interesting thing was he was slowly getting closer to the box office window so he just went with the flow.

ten or fifteen minutes later he found himself at the window.

how many?

excuse me?

how many tickets do you want to buy?

oh.  sure.  ah, two adults.

jake got the tickets and hurried back to bea waiting in line.

god what a mob scene up at the window.  it’s crazy.  i’ve never seen anything like it.  people are like animals up there.  but we have tickets.

someone from behind him spoke.

you have tickets?

yeah, sure.

someone in front of them said.

this is the line for tickets.  you cut the line to get tickets??

jake looked at bea grabbed her hand and pulled her from the line.  they scuttled around the corner laughing hysterically.  the mob scene at the box office hadn’t changed much once they got there.  bea and jake milled around outside on the edge of the madness.  watching. 

a few minutes later a theatre employee came outside and said.

the current showing will be over in a few minutes. if you have tickets please, form a line right here.

he was pointing to the left side of the door.  jake grabbed bea’s hand again and they made it to the front of the line ahead of the others with tickets.  the employee then started to work on the box office window chaos.  finally gaining some control of the area around the box office.  the ticket selling then went on at a more normal pace. 

when the line they were in was finally let inside.  bea took over.

follow me.  i’ve been here before.

lead on, bea.

she made a beeline for the stairs and took them two at a time.  jake followed suit.  they found themselves in the loge section.  in the front row.  the two middle seats.  perfect.

god are we lucky or what?

you can say that again.

the thoughts of the evening before made jake laugh out loud.  yeah, one hell of a night for sure.  he took a shower.  changed clothes.  locked up then left to pick up stephanie.

jmh   

cocaine dreams ~ a love story pt 2

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later that day jake was back at the victorian.  the phone rang.

hello?

hi.  it’s me.  come out and pick me up.  i’ll spend the night.  and there’s someone i want you to meet.

ok.  sure.  when? 

in a couple of hours.  i’ll make us something to eat then we’ll head back to oakland.

sounds good.  see you then.

jake hadn’t seen stephanie for a couple of days and he was excited at the prospect of seeing her that evening.  he wondered who she wanted him to meet.

the ride out to corte madera was uneventful and the simple meal was ready when he arrived.  the two ate while catching up on things.

you’re lucky the cop let you go.  what happened to your friend?

this is good.  he ran into the same cop and the cop called triple a for him.  after he made the call he let him go. then the cop runs into me.  amazing.  i was surprised my friend made it back to the truck.  i couldn’t find it again.  i finally found a phone and called jimmy.

men.  amazing.  let’s clean up and get out of here.

fine.

the pair made their way back into oakland to another victorian near downtown and lake merritt.  the place was stunning in the late afternoon early evening light.

your friend lives well. 

he does ok.  he and his wife live upstairs in the rental.  the stairs are over here.

what’s he do?

he’s a business man.  you’ll see.

from the landing by the front door the setting sun sparkled and danced on the water of the lake.  the door was opened by an attractive blond woman.

hi, stephanie.  come on in.  this must be your friend jake.

yep.  mary this is jake.

the two shook hands.

frankie is in the den listening to the new stones album.

the house was enormous but appeared to be smaller from the outside. 

wow.  amazing.  look at all of that redwood trim and it’s never been painted over.  it’s beautiful. 

yeah, we like it.  it’s one of the reasons we still live here.  that and the view of the lake.

jake could make out the strains of ‘exile on main street’ coming from behind a redwood door just ahead of them.  the three entered. 

hey hey, stephanie.  long time no see.

the two hugged.

hiya, frank.  this is my friend jake.

more hand shaking.

any friend of stephanie’s is a friend of mine.  how about a toot?

the four sat down around a coffee table and chatted listening to the stones while frank worked on the cocaine.

you ever do coke before jake?

once or twice.  i’m not sure if i got off or not.

yeah.  it does do that the first few times.  i think you’ll get the picture this time around.  help yourself.

frank had cut and lined out eight neat fat lines of the white powder.  he handed jake a rolled up one hundred dollar bill.  jake took the money tube.  settled in over a line of coke and stuck the tube in his left nostril.  closed off the other with his right hand and inhaled deeply.  he changed things around and sucked up another of the white lines. 

he settled back into the couch handing the rolled up money to stephanie.  by the time the others had snorted up the white powder jake realized he was high.  a slight euphoria had penetrated his consciousness and it began to grow.

very nice.

i thought you would like it, jake.  another line or two?

you bet, frank.

another small pile of the white powder was cut then lined out for the four of them.  ‘exile on main street’ and the stones played on.  ‘come on and be my little baby for awhile.’

jake, let’s buy a gram and head back to your place.

ok.  how much frank?

$40.  i have some of the same coke all ready to go.  i’ll go get it. 

jake paid the man then he and stephanie made their good-byes.  frank told them to stop by anytime.  jake was feeling good.  really good.  the best he’d felt in a long long time.  on top of the world.

nice people.

yes, they are.

the coke is even nicer.

stephanie smiled and said, i thought you’d enjoy it.  i need to pick something up.  let’s stop at the 7-11.

by the time they made the stop jake was flying.  and enjoying himself.

what are we looking for?

mr. bubble.

the bubble bath stuff?

yep.

hmm sounds like fun.

upon their return to jake’s place they snorted some more cocaine then made love.  afterwards stephanie suggested they take a bubble bath as there was no one else home at the time.  stephanie brought some pot, rolling papers, and the coke into the bathroom.  jake drew the bath and poured a good amount of mr bubble into the hot water.  they both climbed into the hot sudsy water and relaxed.  both of them enjoying the luxury and peacefulness of it all.  and the cocaine high.

very nice.

drying her hands stephanie said, ah huh.  dry your hands and roll us a joint.

sure.

jake proceeded with the task.  stephanie asked if jake had ever smoked any coke before.  jake said no. 

would you like to try it? 

sure, why not?

stephanie sprinkled some of the white powder on to the pot.  jake finished rolling the joint then fired the number with the added extra up.  stephanie was sitting at the other end of the tube watching jake as she sipped a glass of wine.

jake was already pretty well fucked up.  however, after the first hit of the cocaine laced joint he was beyond being simply wasted. two words came to mind, interstellar overdrive, though they didn’t stick around for very long.  but it didn’t matter much.  nothing mattered.  the electric jolts got more intense as the night shifted into the next day.  finally a dreamless sleep came from a mind refusing to work anymore overtime as the night began to give way to the sun.

jmh        
          

cocaine dreams ~ a love story

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it wasn’t a bad place really.  an old two story victorian that somewhere along the line had been converted into a two unit rental.  jake lived on the second floor with a couple of other guys and the occasional girlfriend of one or more of them.  the house sat in one of the better neighborhoods of oakland, ca.  better neighborhoods were a dicey thing for oakland.  you might think it were so but that didn’t make it true.  not by any sane man’s standards.

not far from the old victorian was piedmont.  a small burg tucked into the hills of oakland and in fact actually one in of the few decent neighborhoods for several miles in any direction.  a sort of upscale village as it were.  jake liked going there to hang out and maybe get a take out vanilla sundae with vanilla ice cream from the ice cream parlor on the main drag in piedmont. 

jake would take the sundae to st mary’s cemetery which was where the main drag ended.  he liked the peace and quiet of the cemetery and the beauty of the old family mausoleums.  plus, the view from the hilly cemetery of san francisco, the bay, and berkeley was spectacular.  it was a good place for reading, eating ice cream, taking photos, or just doing nothing.  of them all, just doing nothing was his favorite in the quiet and peaceful place.

one warm and clear spring day jake was up in the cemetery taking photos.  the clear blue sky and light were magnificent.  the old mausoleums were stark against the deep blue sky.  the miniature castles and cathedrals came to life that day in jake’s camera.  as the light and colors danced through his head he thought maybe he could even try to sell some of the photos.

jake was so engrossed in his picture taking that he stumbled over a young lady as he was walking backwards lining up a shot.  she had been kneeling down taking photographs of her own.

oh, i’m sorry i wasn’t paying attention.  are you alright?

um, i think so. 

here let me help you up.  how’s your camera?

after jake had helped the young lady to her feet they chatted awkwardly a bit before jake decided to ask the young lady if she would care to join him for a vanilla sundae down in the village.  amazingly she agreed.

the sundae was sublime as was the conversation once the awkwardness abated.  the two seemed to hit it off.  jake was more than pleased because since his return from vietnam he’d felt like he was on the outside of most things.  the ladies for sure.

this is fantastic.  who would have thought, a vanilla sundae.  how did you come up with this?

thanks.  but it’s not mine originally.  a musician friend of mine came up with it a while back.

doesn’t matter, that sundae was great!

glad you enjoyed it.  um, ah, hey…you wanna head back to my place and smoke a joint?

sure.  sounds good.

jake and his new friend began to make their way back to the victorian just a few blocks away. 

it’s funny but i haven’t asked you your name.

stephanie.  it’s not that funny.

yeah, i know.  sure it’s not…

doesn’t matter.  you haven’t told me yours either.

i haven’t?

nope.

jake.  um, jake is my name.

shy jake.  that’s what i’ll call you. 

jesus.  great. 

it fits.

if you say so.

i say so.

once back at the victorian jake showed stephanie around the place.  even the back porch which included a nice view of the bay bridge. once the tour was out of the way jake proceeded to roll a joint.

i think you’ll find this to be some pretty good shit.

oh?  will i? 

ahhh, yeah…i mean…

silly.  see what i mean?

not really.

after jake was finished with rolling the doobie he lit it up and inhaled deeply.  then he passed it to stephanie who did likewise.  well, not the lighting up part.

ummm.  yeah.  very nice.  you have good taste.

thanks.  lucky me.  sundaes and pot.

ummmm.  yeah, sundaes and pot.  sort of out of order but still…very nice.

jake took a chance and the two new friends fell into each others arms and kissed deeply.  they paused only to finish the joint.  when the joint got down to the roach jake tried to put it in the ashtray. 

no you don’t.

huh?

give it to me.

jake handed stephanie the roach.  she proceeded to swallow it.  then chased it with some wine jake had found.

ah, sure.  very cool.

as men and women were want to do they kissed again and the afternoon went from there.  things took their normal course.  soon jake was in love. there was no denying it.  as for stephanie.  it was up in the air.  though they continued to see one another.  

when jake wasn’t seeing stephanie he hung out with some musician friends he knew.  hitting the music clubs or doing walking tours of downtown oakland on the weekend while drinking vodka from the bottle and smoking joints.  afterwards hitting up some place for a late lunch or early dinner.  downtown oakland was an amazing place on the weekend.  few people equaled less crime and more freedom to roam about.

one of jake’s stranger evenings without stephanie was with another friend and a night of drinking.  there was a restaurant and bar near the oakland/berkeley line.  the food was ok and the drinks were cheap during happy hour.  the food as well.  the two friends started their evening there then proceeded to a near by bar after happy hour was over in the restaurant. 

they spent the rest of the evening in the bar drinking and talking to the bartender and his buddy.  they were the only four people in the place the entire night.  they were also tossed out at closing time.  and way too drunk to be driving.  but that didn’t occur to them. 

they immediately got lost and some how or another ended up driving on a an old abandoned railroad siding that traveled between some light industrial buildings.  of course, they got stuck.  the old pick up they were in came to a sudden stop high centered on a mound of dirt in the middle of the old tracks. 

the friend said he’d go find a phone and call triple a.  jake stayed behind and messed around with the car jack. which he somehow managed to break at some point. very loudly broke.  jake was raising such a racket workers from several of the businesses were starting to come outside to see what was going on.  this freaked jake out.  he tossed the broken jack into the pick up bed and split to look for his friend. 

after a friendly encounter with a berkeley cop jake somehow managed to find his way to a still busy downtown street and a phone booth.  by this time it was well after 3am.  he called a musician friend who had a car.

hello??

hey, jimmy, it’s jake.

what the fuck?  ah, it’s after 3.

yeah, sorry.  look i’m stuck in berkeley.  can you give me a ride?

oh, man. 

i know.  look at it this way.  you have to get up soon anyway for your new day gig.

man.  jesus.  ok.  where are you?

shattuck and alcatraz.

alright i’ll be there as soon as i can.  you owe me, man. 

yeah, i know.  i’ll cook you and bea dinner some night.

the only thing jake heard was a click and then dial tone.  he stepped out of the phone booth and found a nearby bus bench sat down and waited for his friend.  he must have dozed off because the next thing he heard was the loud exhaust pipes of his friend’s vw.  then he heard his friend.

boy, do you looked fucked up.  get in.  i’m taking you back to my place.  you can sleep on the couch for awhile then you can walk home later today.

ah, sure. whatever.  thanks, man.

jmh

the true saga of elliot john kamradt

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there has been much speculation as to just who, elliot john kamradt is and more to the point who his parents were. those waters are a bit murky but i’ll try and clear them up a bit. you see, i’m elliot john kamradt. though these days i go by a different name, john hauge. however, that’s jumping ahead a bit in the story.

at the turn of the 1900’s one aspect of the kamradt family that had remained hidden for more than two centuries finally made their way across the atlantic to america from either poland or hungary. things are still sketchy in that regard. suffice it to say, they remained hidden in america for the most part as well. it’s been such a long time that no one even remembers why that branch of the kamradt family chose to stay hidden from the rest of the family tree and most of society for that matter.

historical records that can be found and accessed show peter paul kamradt and his ever lovely wife, jacqueline marie bouvier-kamradt, were a handsome and fun loving couple. peter worked as a butcher in various butcher shops from new york city to detroit, michigan. though at some point in detroit peter and jackie moved away very suddenly. reasons for the move remain unknown to this day.

there is one theory about the move that relates to a string of unsolved chicken burglaries and thefts that just might be traced back to peter kamradt. though once again, the facts are sketchy and perhaps a family feud was involved relating to some family strife that began in the old country centuries before.

be that as it may, peter and jackie turned up in beaumont, ca not long after their flight from detroit. peter gave up the butcher business and started a chicken ranch in california. some wags said he brought stolen chickens from detroit to start the ranch. though none of that was ever proved to be true. gossip is just gossip, as peter was fond of saying.

once settled in beaumont peter and jackie bore two children. a daughter, ethel and much later in life a son elliot. yours truly. the kamradt bouvier chicken ranch thrived and the little family was happy in the hills of beaumont. though that would change one winter day long ago.

in one of the rarities of california life a rain storm struck and stuck around for a week or two raining buckets non stop. flooding ensued and tragedy struck the bouvier-kamradt family. while on a family trip to collect much needed supplies or as some locals still say, to steal chickens, the family was literally sweep away in a rain swollen creek sending them to the pacific miles away and their deaths. save for elliot john kamradt.

elliot was bumped from the back of the family truck and was saved from his early death. he lay on the ground crying for an hour or two when a turnip farmer happened upon him and saved little elliot john kamradt. little elliot was thrilled to say the least. but the thrill didn’t last long. he fell off the back of the turnip truck only to be saved this time by ollie and doris hauge.

ollie and doris semi legally changed elliot john kamradt’s name. how they even knew the little tykes real name is also shrouded in mystery. at any rate, elliot john kamradt thus became john hauge. simple easy. john went on to have a semi sort of life as a bon viant and is now a retired loafer of some note.

there you have it. i assure you all of this is true and thus proves by any sane reasonable doubt i am a kamradt by birth. to say otherwise would be heresy. that means you carl. michael, matt, and mr. jonny know better.

jmh

i hear the click clack of your feet on the stairs

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the summer of the re-run continues. another sorta travel related riff as it were. and another from several years ago. thanks for reading.

jmh

i hear the click clack of your feet on the stairs

what a great line, pure gold from the glimmer twins.  who else?  i hear the click clack of some lady’s feet on the concrete drive every morning.  heels.  hopefully open toed.  at least i’m hoping it’s a lady.  i haven’t looked to see who it is.  i guess the fantasy thing is ok for now.  i mean it could be some decked out dude or some well, overly well fed mamacita.  or it could be heaven in heels for that matter.  i don’t want to know.  not yet.  just that sound is enough to make a man’s mind wander or at least this man’s mind.  what’s left of it anyways.  wander to all sorts of different spots.  then you toss in some thing on cable about vegas and the m i t gang that busted vegas up for a time.  and the mind drifts back.

back to vegas and the beginning of the first gulf war.  that was the last time i was in vegas, alone.  i was supposed to be there with girlfriend at the time or actually my ex, cause i’d wandered off.  it just wasn’t working.  for both of us.  a lovely vietnamese lady.  years later we stumbled upon each other again and tried, again, with the same results.  i wandered off.  again.  veering.

i’d had the hotel resverations for some time and i guess i just needed to go and forget or something.  plus the new war was about to kick off and it indeed did while i was there.  and well, lots of shit slopping around in my addled brain.

vegas isn’t one of my favorite places.  never has been.  i prefer lake tahoe.  it’s more laid back.  for gambling, drinking and relaxing.  though i’d stay away over labor day weekend.  these days i stay away from everything over any 3 day weekend.  at any rate those were the days when i did actually gamble.  i don’t any more.  just the california lottery these days.  the super lotto.  however, those that know say the horse race deal is the one to bet when it gets big.  hard for me to get a grip on shit today.  tangents.  i will also occasionally bet college football now and again.  but that doesn’t count.  yes, of course.

ok. so i’m in vegas.  the hotel california.  may as well have been.  i’m in one of the bars in the casino having a drink and playing video poker.  taking a break from real poker.  ah, yeah,  here comes another tangent.  7 card stud.  not the texas stuff of today.  too much luck involved there.  sure luck in all the gambling deals but that game leaves me cold.  soo i’m at the bar playing video poker, drinking.  a very nice looking lady sits down a couple of seats away.  she’s alone.  nicely dressed and yeah, sorta hot.  she gets a drink and starts dropping quarters in the machine. 

well, we start chatting.  she’s very nice and bright.  we have a few drinks.  all is sweetness and light.  what could be better?  she’s a reader and an ex professional athelete.  and italian.  how cool is that?  a damn trifecta.  she says she’s got to take care of something but would like to see me later that night for more chatting and drinking. well, you don’t have to ask me twice.  the date was made.

later that evening we meet in the hotel bar.  she looks even lovelier than she did earlier in the day.  sweet.  we have a drink and she suggests we go upstairs to my room and have another drink.  fine by me.  she’s such a vivacious and intelligent lady i was falling in love.  honey, i’ll follow you anywhere.  so we get upstairs and of course she turns out to be a working lady.  what else could the deal be?  naturally.  but like i said i was falling in love and working ladies don’t bother me.  bills gotta be paid.   

it was a really great time.  for me and for her.  she liked it just as much as i did.  the grand finale was right from the cd i’m listening to, ‘parachute woman’, her favorite activity.  she did it well.  i came in her hair.  sorta.  i didn’t notice till she was leaving.  of course she was in a hurry to leave.  another appointment.  so i didn’t say anything.  yes, yes, yes of course.  my bad.  a sorta very early ‘something about mary’.

one evening a month or so later i was home asleep on the couch.  tv on.  the phone woke me up.  it was her.  i was groggy and didn’t really pick up on just who the fuck it was.  i’m like going, who?  who? just like some sad demented owl.  i didn’t realize it was her till after she hung up on me.  then i woke up.  i didn’t sleep much the rest of the night.  pretty much non-stop brain streaming shit.  no, she never called back.

music provided by, the rolling stones, ‘beggars banquet’.

jmh 

 

anniversary waltz(?), Temecula, CA

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last week the brown eyed girl and i celebrated our first wedding anniversary. time flies when you’re having fun right? exactly. so, in celebration of that monumental event another couple joined us for a couple days of wine tasting and wonderful food in temecula, ca.

we had a great time and on the wine tasting day got pretty much hammered on our six hour tasting run of six wineries. driving on our own that day would have been stupid and criminal at best. we hired a limo for the day which covered the criminal part of that equation. stupid is another story. just kidding.

all and all a wonderful trip. we plan on doing it again in a couple of months.

yours truly and the limo.

Temecula, CA grape country.

some old hammered italian guy.

what happens when the old italian guy doesn’t care for the vino.

jmh