Font Size

I was invited out to Hollywood by a friend in 1970. I went. I lived in “Flower Child Central.” The house I was crashing in was a bordello (which is not an “Eye-talian” dessert).

I walked into a church one Sunday to kill time. The minister gave a sermon comparing the love of the flower children to the love of Jesus.

It wasn’t. Jesus did not charge before or after for his love.

Too much looking through rose coloured glasses makes folks dumb.

I was told I had to help pay the rent and there was more than one fellow who thought me good looking.

Those kids had started out good looking. It was not long before they became not good to look at or to be around.

I said, “I’ll pass.”

I was told, “Well, you have to help pay the rent.”

After answering an ad in the L. A. Times I walked close to twenty miles the next morning on an empty stomach.

I arrived at the front door of THE MISSIONARY ARMY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. Wanting nothing to do with them I turned to walk away when I reflected I had not eaten and would not eat. I figured they had to have coffee and doughnuts.

I went inside filled out their forms with the truth knowing they could not hire me unless I lied. I then filled myself with doughnuts which I washed down with coffee.

“You’re Canadian, aren’t you,” said the man in charge when I walked into his office.

I replied, “Yes.”

He said, “Have you got a working permit?”

I replied, “No.”

He said, “I can’t hire you without one. What are you doing here?”

I said, “I’m living in a house. It’s time to pay the rent. It’s either peddle my ass or get a job.”

I had made my response as hard as I could because I thought he would get angry and throw me out.

Instead he said, “THE LORD says I am supposed to help you. The law of the land says I can’t. What do I do?”

Figuring he’d throw me out I said, “That is your question.”

He said, “Then I guess I have to hire you.”

In that instant I realized there are two laws and that who I would become for the rest of my life hung entirely upon which of the two I broke.

I’ve been on the right side of the wrong law since 1970.

That man changed my life fore the better. He had more love in his small toe than the whole flower child movement put together. I learned a lot from him.

Mostly, my balls dropped. I stopped being a boy and became a man.

I believe the ranch the Manson family hung out on was the William S. Hart ranch.

Been an anarchist for God since 1970.

Who would have thought I’d learn the meaning of Christianity in Hollywood?

Good town. Done more good than all the world’s religions rolled into one.

12:42 PM

Delete

« »