Saturday, July 13, 2013



          This hangover is SPECTACULAR! Don`t get me wrong,
I feel bad... but I also have that crystal clarity
that makes me think I can see for 100 miles 
and call the ravens out of the white pine telepathically
 from way back here.
      An old pal is getting out of the Inuvik Jail, where they`ve had him in the hole for that last 72 days.I guess they`ve had him there for the last eight months.
       He`s a quiet fellow, never makes a fuss ho! ho! and
will hit town like a Okkie tornado and freight train all rolled up in one and come whistling down the river hopefully
in a bush plane - he`s not high enough for travel by levitation just yet. I imagine we`re going to fix that.

      We have a tragedy on our hands at the moment -
we`re out of hootch, internal bug spray - let`s call that
High Mountain Moonshine Overproof Special Yahoo! That`s the name of this blend...but it`s almost gone.

       I woke up this morning because I was buzzed
by a Beaver.
        I`m not talking about a blonde in tight jeans
about to sit on my nose - no! I`m talking about
a Canadian bushplane/floatplane which makes quite
a roar when it`s coming in -  buzzing your cabin, or coming
down to land at a ridiculous speed.
        I knew who it was.  It had to be 
Bobby Carl Wildman, who had just been sprung from a jail
only 400 miles up river. 
      He`d be  rarin` to go.
Problem with Bob - he gets an idea in his head
it stays in his head until something is done about it.
Most of his ideas involve motion for everybody else.
You could say that`s part of his charm, and sometimes
you`d be right.
        His last name is Wildman and he acts like a Wildman,
and every time he comes by: I have a near death experience.
       We usually follow a plan, take off in some direction
and see what the hell`s going on over there. If nothing`s happening; that changes pretty quick.
        Once I was lying on my back  relaxing in a canoe in at Trout Lake in cottage country. The waves were rocking me like a little baby in his cradle. And the sun is warm on my face.I was listening to the song of birds.
         All of a sudden there was an 
was an explosion on the shoreline, much much louder than a firecracker. It was Robbie arriving.Robbie showed up with a couple of suspicious looking fellas in a white limousine.
           Next morning at 5:00 A.M. I wake up in New York City. With no memory whatsoever of how I got there.
            I look up and admire the plaster moulding between ceiling and wall . It`s good carved work. Then I hear the constant traffic flow... WTF?
       Then I forced myself up onto all fours - and I started
to crawl. It seemed like a long journey across an
endless desert.  What drug gives you tunnel vision and
and totally fucks your depth perception, too... so that a foot
can seem like a crab at the bottom of a cliff... What drug can make a luxurious rug at the Hotel Pierre look
like the Gobi desert?
       What FOOL would take such a drug,,,Am I that much of a fool... Oh, no! No negative script right now, revolving in my swollen brain....I don`t have time to be depressed.  Yes,
I might be an utter shit; I might be spit on a windowpane -
but if we don`t clear this room they`re gonna put me away forever...
         In one of those cheap government asylums,
where all the patients are numbers walking around with their asses exposed.  Eight AM and they bring out the firehose -
they start hosing the `residents` down with cold water...
        No need for showers.... and when they put you in immaculate white solitary confinement, that`s when, under the bright lights they let the spiders loose on you..! You can see `em real well against the bright white floor and sheets... then you`ll scream.... yes, then...scream.... Yes you will!
       There are certain parts of YOUR body they like to eat when you`re sleeping.
       STOP IT. That`s all in my head.. No one`s turning the spiders loose on you - not quite yet,  anyway.... Now open your eyes and get a grip....
      Not acid, not cocaine, not crystal meth or MDA, not
herb... although herb sometimes can do amazing things
with colour... not Haldol, methadone or amitriptyline, not most of the prescription drugs... although there are
 some exceptions if taken to excess...not PCP,,, not PCP....
oh God!  Not PCP!!  What have we done?
       Why are all these bodies lying in our room.  On PCP
you can do any monstrous thing... you might think it`s for the good of society that you`re choking the life out of your highs school teacher...
       You might feel sorry for homeless people, then kill them all and drag them to your room in the Hotel Pierre
so they`d be warm and not feel so alone anymore.     Schostokovitch! Is that what we have done?  Are any of the people alive? Am I  a certified monster, after all?
Were my friends in primary school right all along about what
I would become?  On PCP, all of the above is possible
        "THEY`RE GOING TO HUNT US DOWN LIKE DOGS! "I whisper to myself.
         "get a grip.... first of all you`ve gotta go and catch that prick over there...."   I`m crawling again, trying not to puke... He can`t hear me.  I`m too quiet.

       The bastard`s over there in the corner hunched over the telephone talking rapidly.He looked like he was 100 miles away.... I had tunnel vision. WHAT MADNESS IS THIS?
 I have a wad of money in each of my front pockets... Have we robbed these people then terminated their lives?.
        Did we chop them up? I had a horrible taste in my
mouth just tasted like last night`s  liver and 
onions.Did we eat their LIVERS! Are we harvesting organs?

       I can`t crawl far or fast... from all fours I collapse on my stomach. In the rug I smell something sweet. My nose is in something soft... Dear God,it`s a hand! It`s perfume I smell... With my eye I follow  the hand along the arm up  to the head. The eye in the head opens.  The eye is huge
and seems to be following me as I attempt to crawl away
I`m about to make an exit on my knees...
     It sees me: "HEY, COOCHIE!" It shouts at me.           
       "Thank God!"  I`m thinking. It`s alive! Do I have to kill
it again?"
        I clutch the back of Rob`s collar and pull him
onto the rug with me. So he`s at my level: "YOU FOOL! WHAT HAPPENED? " I hiss.
        "No one`s sure.  Remember those two honchos in the limo.
         Just barely.
          Well, we rode in the car with them for five hours.  You told all kinds of funny stories....
          OK OK. what happened!
They gave five pills of that date rape drug.  They told me to try it out.
         You gave it to yourself?
          Sure, why not?
          "You give the pill to your date, not yourself You`re supposed to give that pill to the woman and SHE passes out. Then you jump on her and do your evil deeds...  And then you`re facing ten years in the slammer...
          The way you did it: "WE passed out. You can tell the guys it worked! too well...It turned us into killers, also!
          He looked at me for a long time. I was just about to pull out one of his teeth  with my bare hands if he didn`t speak up.
         He said: "That pill really got on top of you, didn`t it?"
         I say:  "What pill, you fool!  What the fuck happened?  Our room looks like Cambodiea after a massacre!  WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING WITH THE BODIES!"
        Rob looks at me as if he`d never met me before,
        "Those aren`t bodies!   That`s Shula and  those are her friends! They`re all alive, I think, anyway.
We met last night.... drank several gallons of beer.
You must remember Shula.  She was giving you oral love under the table!"
       "I`m hallucinating are you?" I ask I`m not mentioning
the evil grin the head had given me?
       "Yeah, quite a bit actually... How about you? You took three times what I took... oh yeah, and the boys said there
might be a little PCP mixed in it just to keep you awake... so any weird thoughts you`re having - forget `em."
       I didn`t say a word. So he continued his explanation:
     "You climbed up onto the stage and did a slow striptease.Shayla got up, too, and stripped with you. The whole place went wild; the bar was mayhem.  The bouncers and the bartenders were freaking. Then you got up on a table and...things settled down when you were least at first....
      "Then you made a speech about "LIBERATION" and  things got way way worse...everybody got up on the tables throwing their glasses against the wall... Cops were called. We got out quick  We have a room here..."
     "OK, I understand.  But there`s something we`ve gotta do first. Come back into the room with me and we`ll check their vital signs."


          I woke up this morning full of doubt and recriminations.Guilts of all manner were trickling past my ears into my enlarged mind.  I can`t drink a bottle of whiskey straight without water and expect to survive.  I could do it when I was twenty-one but even then it was a bad idea.
          These days it`s damn nearly suicide
        I have that clarity that means you`ve just dumped about a billion brain cells.

            Another time we ended up in Peru.
       That another story, one for a more adult audience. Ho! Ho! Joking, of course.  You can imagine what Bobby got up to in Peru - with Peruvian flake cocaine selling for $10.  a gram.
I`m admitting nothing, naturally.  We went up into the Andes and we were consumed with snow.
      I remember that sudden vacation a whole lot better.
I have a very Klear memory of it.


       Another time six of  us were just arriving back at Pearson International Airport (Toronto). I was with a bunch
of Danes (Gerd, especially). They had just introduced me
to Aquavit. I had six glasses of it then fell asleep behind the wheel. (Wish I had a glass of it now!)
        I drove into a concrete abutment, attempting to leave the parking garage. We weren`t going fast, but even
at 10 MPH you can have quite a collision.There were six of us in the car.
      I drove an Oldsmobile Cutlass straight  into a cement  pillar   I WAS AWAKENED BY THE SCREAMS OF MY PASSENGERS.
      Usually within three days of Wildman`s arrival, some disaster happens 
        Bobby kicks the door open  and shouts: "I NEED SOME HEROIN!"
       I just stared at him from across the room....   ....  ...  You son of a bitch? YOU MAD BASTARD! You know there`s no heroin in Rat River! For the last month
we haven`t even had salt!"
       "Fuck that! I came to pick you up!  Time for a party... I`m just out of jail and you look out of your mind.
       "What`s wrong with you -- you look like you`re dying!"
       "Isolation sickness.  Mad Po left for a booze purchase
  three weeks ago.  At first the silence was, not so much.
       "Forget that! It`s time for a party I`ve got $32,000 and I want to spend it!
        Bobby waves to the pilot.  An engine starts up
down the river.


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