The Big Yard Sale.

I live on a dead end street with 8 houses on it. My ole lady went to a house warming party at the new neighbors house. She and some of the other ladies on the block started talking about having a block party yard sale. My ole lady is real eager to participate. Problem is that she didn't have a lot to sell. She's working on it. She's been on craig's list buying all kinds of furniture so she can sell the old stuff. So far she's spent hundreds of dollars so she can make a few. My garage is full of old furniture that never matched. Just like the new stuff. What she doesn't know yet, is that what ever doesn't sell is going to the Salvation Army. I plan on selling beers for $1. LOL

Getting high

I've smoked ONCE before but the first time that I know I was high was in the 8th grade.
I was at my girlfriend's house.
She had an older sister and her boyfriend had weed.
We smoked 1 joint and I was done in for.
I saw small, puple clouds every where. I could even reach out and touch them.
Talk about 'Purple Haze.'

Introduction.........

To Marijuana.

I was in the 6th grade but I starting smoking 3 or 4 years back.
Pasaderna offered a new way of supporting a growing and fucked up habit. People would actually leave the windows down in their cars. I made an art out of stealing the cigarettes off of their dash boards, as I casually walked by.

One day, Me and my close friends, walked by this MG Midget. Convertable. There was a pack of Marlboros on the dash. Just my brand. I reached in and snagged those fuckers.

It usually took about a half of a block before you knew you weren't being chased.


About a block away, I opened the pack. No cigarettes.

But...........

Four Joints. There were four of us.

I have never smoked weed before but I knew how cool my brother and his friends were (to me) when they were high.

I passed them out.
What would you do?

Fast Forward

A couple of years and 3 or 4 moves later..............

I find myself in Pasadena California. In the 6th grade.

I lived in a very old two story, 5 bedroom (+ a den) home. Yup. Moving up again.

The best thing about it was the building of the 210 freeway just two blocks away.

Instant playground.

Especially after it would rain. Beneath the over passes, huge puddles would form. I mean huge.
Imagine 8 lanes of freeway covered with water.
There was no pavement yet, so it was all mud. Sometimes the water would get 3 feet deep. We'd use whatever was available and build rafts. Then we would have wars.
Like I said, it was all mud. I can remember my younger brother getting into trouble for losing a new shoe in the muck. He wore an old shoe along with his new one for a long time. I still laugh when I think about it.

This is the same brother that I hung in my back yard.

You heard me right. I hung my little brother in my back yard.

We had a couple of cats. We also had a clothes line. One of our fucking cats had kittens. No one wanted them little fuckers, nor didwe try hard to give them away.

Any ways.......

One day I got an idea to tie one end of the clothes line to a branch on the tree and the other end to them fuckers and let them run until the line got taught. Just to watch them fly up into the air when the line pulled them back. I was truly fucking amused.

What? It didn't hurt. I never heard one complain.

One time my little bro thought it would be a good idea to put the rope around his neck and have me kick the milk crate out from under him.

Did I mention that it was his idea?

I did it. He asked me to. He was being hung before my eyes.

When I realized that he wasn't kicking his feet to be funny, I grabbed his legs and lifted him up enough to free himself from the noose.After he told mom, I got whipped. With a fucking Hot Wheeel track.

Shit! I saved his mother fucking life.
Did anyone see it that way?
Nope! Just me!

Hot Wheel tracks?
When we were fortunate enough to get them for Christmas, we threw them way.
They leave fucked up marks on you when you are whipped with them.

I had a blast in Pasadena. I met some cool people. Most of them were older. They hung around with my older brother. He was known as 'Snake.'' He hung a round with a ''Lizard'', a ''Spider'', a ''Bear'' and a ''Gato''. I hung around with their younger brothers. We were known as 'lil'' all of the above. Except ''Spider.'' He didn't have a little brother. But we did have a ''Mike.''
He was a couple of grades behind me but everyone else was at least one grade behind me. Even though some were older than me.

Just Kids

That's all we were. Without a care in the world.
I was no more than 9. My year old brother, our friend Baldy Spot (insert name here) and more often than not, my little sister, would get all get on the bus. We were getting off at General hospital. It was a playground to us. We'd spend hours there.
We'd go anywhere in the place until someone chased us out. It's a big hospital, there were a lot of floors. There was also a lot of elevators. We'd play tag in them. Chasing each other from floor to floor. Until we got hungry or someone chased us out.
It seemed to me that someone would always press the elevator alarm when we got chased out. I pressed the alarm once. Just once. We always ran. A few inutes later, we were walking through the Emergency Room and an ambulance driver pointed at me and said. ''He did it! He did it!.'' To this day, I have no idea what he was talking about. I think he was just fucking with me but it scared the shit out of me and I'll never forget it.

When we got hungry or brave, we'd go to the cafeteria. There were a lot of vending machines there. A slight chance of finding some change. Hopefully a doctor had the munchies but was called before he grabbed his change. It could mean that we could split a hot dog. There was a hot dog machine. I swear to god. The only one I've ever seen. The hot dogs came out in a tube resembling the cardboard from an empty toilet paper roll. They cost 25 cents. Every once in a while we'd get one. Not very often though. Hell, we were happy to split a 3 Muskteer's bar. At least it was easy to split. 3 pieces, 3 ways. That is, unless my sister was there.

One time we found a quarter. Hot dog time. Not!

The machined malfunctioned. We didn't get shit. After a couple of minutes of pushing the coin return button, Someone had the GREAT idea of reaching up into the machine. I can't remeber who but the skinny arm was long enough to reach a hot dog. Then another. That's it. After that we only used the change that we may have found, to get something to wash down our free hot dogs with. If not, there were plenty of water fountains around.

When we got bored with the hospital, we'd stay on the bus until the end of the line. It was deep downtown L.A. A couple of hours walk back home. Did we care? Only the first time that we had to walk. It was getting dark. The second time was early and we found all the places to stop on the way.
There we were. Kids. No one over 10. Roaming the streets of downtown L.A. Definately, not some place I'd want my 8 year old to be. Our parents had no idea where we were. As far as my mom knew, we were outside. Playing.

RTD

Rapid Transit District.
That's what Public Tranportation in L.A. was called back then.

Like I said when I was 9 my family moved out of the projects. Even though it was only across the street from the projects, it was a big deal to us (kids).

W e moved to a house on the corner. Right outside our back door was a bus stop. This one driver use to take his breaks there. He'd always let us sit on his bus while he was there for 1/2 an hour or so.
Someone talked him into taking us on his route.
He'd take us with him through Down Town L.A. and by General Hospital. We'd get off right at our back door. Where we started.

Soon. We got braver. We'd get off at the hospital and play around until he came back on his return route. Some times, we'd miss the bus and have to walk home. Which wasn't too bad because it was only a mile or two and we did know our way home.

Besides. Foremost and Carnation were on the on the way. That meant we were almost sure of getting free Ice cream for our walk.

Speaking of ''Off and Running.''

This is easy.


I have an older sister. 7 years my senior. She use to write notes, asking the store owner to '' Please sell my son a pack of Marlboros.'' I swear to God. They were 50 cents a pack.
Upon delivery, she'd give me a couple and say '' Now. If you tell on me, I'll tell on you.''
I was 8 fucking years old but me and my brother would smoke them.

The last time I saw her she was bumming smokes off of me.


When I was 9 or about to turn 9, my family moved up again. We moved out of the projects. Right accross the fucking street.

I didn't miss the projects. Hell. I was a stones throw away.

I loved the projects.

I smelled my first dead cat there.

I also saw my first dead body there. They smell the same.

My friends came across this body. Did they call the police? Fuck no! We learned from an early age not to be cop callers.
They called their friends.

This guy was lying in some bushes next to the freeway. His pants wre off and his dick was cut off. He was covered with ants.
Someone told their mom and she called the cops.

Did it bother me to see a dead body? I don't think so. I never for got it but I never had dreams about it like I do about some pics that I have seen on the web.

There weren't many playgrounds in the projects so we had to find our own fun. Like taking pieces of cardboard to the nearby hills and sliding down on them.

The one good time (besides tasting pee) that I'll never forget is finding a (huge) box spring and taking to the bridge.

I lived near the freeway and there was a walk across bridge.
It has stairs like this.........

_
___
_____
_______
_________
___________
________________
__________________
____________________
______________________
________________________


We would all climb on that fucker, carrying that box spring and ride it down.
I swear. We'd get airborn off of that landing. It was a fucking blast.
That is until Chris fell off the front and got ran over.

There were rumors that he was pushed but I was on the back so I don't know .
Nor, do I give a fuck. As long as it wasn't me.

As I was saying.........

Scotty Waddy Doo Doo had a gang of toys. Probably more toys than the rest of the projects, combined. In fact there was a toy loan program where you could borrow a toy for a week from the community center.
Any how. Need less to say. All the kids wanted to play at Scotty's house. Even if we were searched when we left.
Scotty was a retarded kid but it was not unusual to find 3 or 4 kids already there when you showed up.
I remember playing hide and seek one time. I had to have been about 7 or 8. I went to hide under his mom's bed but there was already someone there. I can't remember her name or even which unit she lived in (which is rare) but she was older. Maybe about 5 years older than me. She said that I could hide with her. So I did.
I'm sure it wasn't me that started it but soon we were kissing. She gave me directions and I followed eagerly. I'll never forget what happened under that bed. Would you ever forget your first taste of pussy? It tasted like pee, if you asked me.
I also remeber that she had a cut on her foot. How I remember that. I don't remeber but she did.

Needless to say......... I was off and running.

There were a couple of other girls that I remember playing house, doctor or what ever with. I may not remember thier names but I remember where they lived. They all tasted the same.

OK I will be jumping around. Depending on what and when I remember things.

We had a head Start Program. Sort of like a preschool. I guess. When I was 4 my oldest brother had already graduated and my other older brother was being enrolled. I wanted to go. Bad. I cried and cried to no avail.


When I finally did get to go, I loved it.

We never had assigned seats but we always sat in the same place.. When we had something special going on we were told to sit on the floor up against this wall. Boy girl, boy girl.

I always sat between the same two girls. They were twins. We were all in love. 4 or 5 year old love. We would play house, I'd be the dad and they would fight over who'd be the mom.
I'd walk them home after school and their older brother would chase me home after that.
One time one of them was too sick to come to school and we had to sit boy girl. The other twin wouldn't let any other girl sit next to me.

God. What happened to those days?

Why not?

I've never written a blog before so bare with me. Or not.

I love to tell stories.
I'm sure that everyone that I've met and has spent 10 minutes with me has heard something about my past.


I'll start at or near the beginning.

I was born (no really) in General Hospital.
That's what it was called way before that stupid ass soap opera was named after it.

I'm talking about USC County General, in L.A..

My family lived in Watts. If you don't know about Watts, you'd might as well leave now.

When I was 4 my family moved up in the world.
To the projects.
You grow up fast in the projects. So it seems. Everyone is crammed so close together that you learn everything from and about one another.
I remember, my neighbor going to Viet Nam and not coming back.
I remember these old guys names Radar and Cheaters who use to play Dominos at the local playground.
I remember Carol, who was so crazy that I actually remember seeing her watering her little yard in a rain coat. In the rain
She had a son named Scott. He was mentally challenged also. We called him Scotty Waddy Doo Doo. I'll never forget him. He had so many toys.