Lucky I’m sane after all I’ve been through
Just another update, dear reader, to let you know that the next instalment of my memoir (1968) is taking a while to come together and gell so it will be readable and not jump around. My brain is like a frog, it leaps around and the words come out before I can stop them. In the past this didn’t matter overly as my friends were all the same and we would spend hours talking about nothing in particular.
We would talk about what we would do to change attitudes and accept that everyone is different, getting others to accept that as well. I was in a few “High School Bands” where we would sit around and jam, a few had guitars and I would grab whatever was in the kitchen to bang on (there were never enough drummers to go around). During these sessions we would pass around a few joints, drink a few beers (someone’s home brew) and talk between songs. When you’re all stoned you don’t realise you’re talking garbage since everyone else is also talking complete rubbish.
Occasionally we would be sitting in the park (later on as we didn’t want to get busted for smoking dope) talking and listening to the guitars when a few others (generally intrigued by what was happening with us) would linger on the periphery until invited to join us and join the conversations. At this juncture some would disappear although a few did take us up on the offer and sit with us on the grass. These groups were never all-male affairs, we attracted more than our share of girls to join us. I don’t know if they were attracted because of the music or because they had also partaken of the herb, but join us they did.
No-one who sat around with us in those days would be allowed to remain quiet as we encouraged everyone to join in the discussions, giving us their point of view. We talked about Vietnam, segregation, Muhamad Ali and religion. General items like the state of the Nation, what the police were doing to fight crime and was it successful, why some people were attracted to violence with fights being a regular occurrence at that time (Ireland was gripped by the Troubles, there were youths regularly meeting in Brighton, Glasgow and other places to fight others who thought and looked different to them).
What made a person attractive to the opposite sex, and why were some people more sought after than others? Some men (and women) were seen as very attractive (not just movie stars and rock stars either) to the opposite sex, and could have their pick of the opposite sex. In 1968, because of the recent change in the law making homosexuality a non-crime, we also discussed why some men were attracted to other men. We didn’t judge as we accepted everyone was different and no-one had a right to tell others how to live. (In the words of Jimi Hendrix in “If Six Was Nine” I’m the one who’ll die when it’s time for me to die, so let me live my life the way I want to!)
Radical thinking for teenagers in 1968 Scotland, don’t you think? Anyway, I’m getting told it’s time to get something done about finding a job so I’ll finish this now and write another tale or two as a trailer to 1968 in the coming days. Music courtesy of youtube.com with the clip coming from Easy Rider.