I no longer take drugs. Don't need to. I have, however, had a couple of experiences that are coming up as I look over the writing that I've done in years past. Here's a little story from 1974 or '75. Hard to be precise. It's all a sweet, smokey haze.
Send in the Clowns! © Solomon
The name of Frddy Blinder has come up previously in this work. Indeed, he has figured prominently in many of our exploits and adventures in wanton over-consumption. Just the same, the author would be remiss in allowing a one-dimensional portrait of our great and weird friend to be the final word. Freddy Blinder was also a real, true humanitarian; truly a man among men.
I remember, it was on Halloween, some fifteen or more year's ago, that one of his fellows required the banishment of certain demons. Characteristic of Freddy, he came to the rescue, oblivious all the while to the most dire circumstances attending his heroic actions. It seems that our pal, Simon Bruford, was having a bit of a struggle with his first LSD trip. He left the party in a state of some paranoid distress. He hadn't told anybody that he was leaving. He just split. Mentally and physically, he was buggin' out.
Young Simon was a fairly preppy guy, not accustomed to the psychedelic grundge in which we so happily and frequently immersed ourselves. He had secluded himself in a small room on the second floor of Kathy Anderson's house. He locked the door and proceeded to contemplate the setting of his bright star into a future of black delusion and badly tarnished promise.
Meanwhile, back at the Alpha Lodge, we had made the horrifying discovery that the party was out of beer.
Not to worry! We knew that there was another keg back at Kathy's and Freddy naturally volunteered to retrieve same. Nattily clad in his Halloween finest, (full Bozo regalia, including: orange hair, red nose, white face, balloon pants and big rubber shoes) Freddy made his way toward a date with destiny.
Arriving at Kathy's, he discovered that the front door was locked. So were the rear and the basement doors. A-ha! There was a faint light peeking from the second floor bedroom on the corner. Freddy loved just such a challenge and could be counted upon to rise to the occassion, particularly when intoxicants were involved. Somehow, Freddy managed to climb the cornice next to the patio, brick by brick, hand over hand to the eaves just below that window. It was that window from whence Simon Bruford peered; quietly, desperately surveying an increasingly fragmented and gloom benighted reality.
Now, if the situation is not perfectly clear, let me fully sketch it out in two brief sentences. A: Bruford is cracking up and afraid that at any moment, the Martians are gonna arrive. B: A moment later, the Martians do arrive, in the persona of one Bozo the Clown, aka, Freddy Blinder. Picture it: this guy is staring out of a second story window, the door locked behind him, he's totally scared out of his wits, and then, suddenly, clowns start appearing out of thin air at the window! Well, it took a few minutes for Freddy to calm Simon down; I think Simon's first impulse was to hide under a desk. Soon, however, he was pursuaded to open the window and let Freddy in. Freddy was real people person.
Not long after his entry to the room, following a good heart to heart with this Bozo-human-fly critter from outer-space, Simon agreed to lend a hand in carrying the keg back to the party. There was much rejoicing. Last we heard of Simon Bruford, he was brokering mega-million dollar telecommunications deals in the United States and abroad. For all we know, he is still waiting for the Martians to make contact.