Picture Auggie in 1968. He is 16 yrs old. Cruising the main near his home town on the other side of the bay from San Francisco. It is the eve of the 'Summer of Love'. Proud of the souped-up maroon '55 Chevy two door coupe he's driving, looking for a girl to sit next to him on the white glove leather tuck and roll bench seat.
Suddenly the red light flashs behind the car. Well, we getting pulled over. Something about going ten miles over the speed limit ... is that speeding? Yes, I discover .. it is.
Cop looks inside the car with his flashlight and notices a Toker pipe in the ash tray. "Step outta the car son."
Now, ya'll gotta know that in 1968 this is felony. "Paraphernalia" is bad enough, but if it has "residue" in it ... bad.
Cop looks at it carefully, smells it. LoL. I'm looking at him wondering if I'm going to juvie, he's youngish ... He looks at me and motions towards my letter coat and says "You play football". I told him I do and what position etc. We talk high school football for a minute; seems he is a homeboy graduating from a rival school from mine. The radio tells him I have no wants or warrants. He asks, "I know that centers get to handle the ball, but can you throw?" I told him I could throw pretty well. He says, "I'll make you a deal ..." and hands the pipe back to me. "If you can throw this in that field over there," motioning toward and empty and dark plot, "so far that I can't find it - I will let you go. If not, well ..." he shrugged.
Before he could come up with an alternative I chucked the damn thing as far as I could and heard it shatter in the darkness.
He handed me my brand new drivers license and told me to 'slow the hell down, ok?' and got back in his car.
He could never be a cop these days.
Went to the flea market in Berkeley the next Saturday and got a brand new one.
~ Auggie ~
Suddenly the red light flashs behind the car. Well, we getting pulled over. Something about going ten miles over the speed limit ... is that speeding? Yes, I discover .. it is.
Cop looks inside the car with his flashlight and notices a Toker pipe in the ash tray. "Step outta the car son."
Now, ya'll gotta know that in 1968 this is felony. "Paraphernalia" is bad enough, but if it has "residue" in it ... bad.
Cop looks at it carefully, smells it. LoL. I'm looking at him wondering if I'm going to juvie, he's youngish ... He looks at me and motions towards my letter coat and says "You play football". I told him I do and what position etc. We talk high school football for a minute; seems he is a homeboy graduating from a rival school from mine. The radio tells him I have no wants or warrants. He asks, "I know that centers get to handle the ball, but can you throw?" I told him I could throw pretty well. He says, "I'll make you a deal ..." and hands the pipe back to me. "If you can throw this in that field over there," motioning toward and empty and dark plot, "so far that I can't find it - I will let you go. If not, well ..." he shrugged.
Before he could come up with an alternative I chucked the damn thing as far as I could and heard it shatter in the darkness.
He handed me my brand new drivers license and told me to 'slow the hell down, ok?' and got back in his car.
He could never be a cop these days.
Went to the flea market in Berkeley the next Saturday and got a brand new one.
~ Auggie ~