The Sunny Side

Pics, flicks and notes about my musical friends and family in and around Old Town Eureka, California.
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Location: Eureka, California, United States

My front porch in Old Town Eureka is known as The Sunny Side. Southern exposure, protected from the wind, it is an ideal place to sit and play old timey tunes and watch the parade go by.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Seven



I've been tagged by EkoVox with a challenge to post seven things that most folks probably don't know or care to know about me.

1. When I was about ten a friend and I were approached in the barber shop by a revival preacher that offered us each $25 if we would help out around the tent services over the weekend and help pack up Monday morning. We excitedly agreed, hung out Friday night to Sunday night passing the plate, moving things around, straightening chairs, sweeping up and even got saved a couple times. When we went to get our money Monday morning the tent, the trucks, everything was gone. That's when I became interested in the subject of religion.

2. I was a champ at shooting marbles in elementary school. I'd come home after school with my bags and pockets stuffed with marbles.

3. I saw The Beatles play at Dodger Stadium in 1964.

4. I've always been facsinated by pocket knives. Bone handled pocket knives. I usually have at least two in my pockets.

5. I've met three very famous people that I'm fond of telling stories about. Charlie Manson, Vincent Price and Timothy Leary. I didn't spend more than thirty minutes with Dr. Leary but I'm so pleased that I got to meet that fine, gentle man.

6. I was at Yosemite the Fourth Of July weekend in 1970 when the bikers and the hippies raised a ruckus and Martial Law was imposed. My girlfriend and I got to enjoy the whole park all to ourselves after everybody else was run out.

7. I went for ten years, from August 1998 until August 2008,without driving a car.

I have two other things but Eko only asked for seven.

Now I pass the challenge to my friends Jeff, Dave and Humbug.

7 Comments:

Blogger EkoVox said...

Very good.

Charlie Manson, Vincent Price and Timothy Leary? Weren't they in the Kingston Trio?

Pocket knives were once the staple of every boy's pocket. You'd get suspended for a year if you brought one to school today.

Damn preacher's, bikers and hippies always ruin everything.


Thanks for playing along with the home version of our game, Huck.

5:18 PM  
Blogger lodgepole said...

Tell us the charlie manson story Huck!

5:49 PM  
Blogger hucktunes said...

The Charlie Manson story? OK. It was back in the summer of 1969. I had graduated from high school and was feeling real happy about being done with it once and for all. I had this friend, Steve Seymore, that lived in Temple City but would hang out a lot in South Pasadena. He was a few years older than me and my school mates. He would tell stories about this place where he used to live in Chatsworth, an old movie studio called The Spahn Ranch. It was kinda like a hippie commune. He lived in the old gypsy wagon. The place had been used as the setting for Hollywood movies, westerns and things like that. The gypsy wagon was the one used in the Lon Chaney movie The Wolf Man. So anyway, Steve asked me and my friend Bruce Parsons if we'd like to hitch hike out to Chatsworth to check the place out.
I think it was a Saturday morning. We dropped some acid and hung out our thumbs. It took about three hours to get to Chatsworth. A little two lane highway leading off to the Santa Susana Pass, a dirt road on the left and about a mile walk to an old ranch house. The ranch house looked like something you would see on an episode of The Rifleman. Steve thought it would be a good idea to knock on the door and introduce ourselves and get permission to wander around. The guy that answered the door was a skinny little guy with kinda longish hair and a scruffy beard, no shirt or shoes, Levis and very taught, kinda wound up. Steve introduced us saying he used to live here and asked if we could poke around, look at the old gypsy wagon and the other sites. The guy said sure, welcome. He asked if we wanted some weed. Well heck yeah. So he left the door open and walked towards the fireplace. The room was bare, wooden floor, no furniture that I can remember. The bareness of the room really struck me. Over the fireplace mantel draped a black cloth with a gold Buddha and some candlesticks on either side. On the floor were two big Chinese urns, one on each side. The guy got a brown paper bag, reached into the urn on the right, grabbed a handful of weed and stuffed it in the bag. We thanked him and went on our way. The gypsy wagon was really cool. It looked like an authentic old caravan wagon. We checked out the old western street with the Old West style buildings. It all seemed pretty run down. We came across a picnic area with some picnic tables and a fire pit that looked like it had been recently used. We did not see a soul the entire three or four hours that we were there. We had the feeling that folks were around but did not see anybody. It was pretty hot and dusty, July or August. The sun started to dim so we decided we'd better walk back to the highway before it got dark. We passed the quiet ranch house, got about halfway up the dirt road to the highway with the sun fading, when we heard the sound of a car coming up the road from the ranch. We stood by the road with our thumbs out and an old Ford, about a 1956, full of hippies drove on past. Another car followed them, also full of hippies. There may have even been a third. We couldn't really make out any details about the passengers, we were all pretty much done in by the acid and too much sun. We walked on to the highway and hitched a ride back to South Pasadena.
It seems like it was about two weeks later on a Sunday morning when I saw the story in the LA Times with a big picture of the guy that gave us that big bag of weed at the ranch house.

10:48 PM  
Blogger EkoVox said...

Wow. I think I would have rather met Lon Chaney.

1:01 PM  
Blogger hucktunes said...

Yeah, Lon Cheney would have been cool. But I met his buddy Vincent Price. He was the master of the macabre.

2:58 PM  
Blogger lodgepole said...

Wow Huck, he sounds like a pretty generous guy.

10:21 PM  
Blogger hucktunes said...

Mexican pot was pretty cheap in those days. $65.00 a kilo. Reading about those folks in Wikipedia I see that it must have been about four months later that the news hit the LA Times. It seems like only yesterday. My impression about the guy was that he was nondescript and I would have pegged him to be a peripheral character in the group. And that may well have been what drove him to be such a controlling personality. He was very skinny, short and slight of build. He moved across the room like a monkey.

6:54 AM  

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