WHAT HELL AWAITS ME NOW?

“WHAT HELL AWAITS ME NOW?” is a phrase I picked up many years ago, probably in 1968 when I was just shy of seventeen years of age.  I distinctly remember reciting it a few too many times when my mother summoned me from my upstairs bedroom. She would call out my full proper name, either to answer the phone or to tell me someone was downstairs/outside awaiting my words of wisdom. One morning/early afternoon in particular, after being out until the break of day, a “mushrooms and Ozzy” kinda night, Mom called up to tell me a young lady had knocked on the door asking for me and she was sitting/awaiting in her car. “WHAT HELL AWAITS ME NOW?” seemed oh so appropriate that day as it does now, at the turn of the year. Hopefully,”no hell” just good tidings I pray.

   My local newspaper is “highlighting” the past year while also giving the readers a preview for the next. Most items of the past year focused on those who left and the items predicting the future, well let’s just say it was based on politics and the economy. Geez, what a drag.  While one, death (and taxes) is inevitable I find the need to ask more than politics/economics for the future. How about a little humanity?

   A few weeks ago I turned off the sound as I watched Tucker Carlson introducing/interviewing TONY ROBBINS who was selling his “Roadmap For Transforming Uncertainty Into Opportunity” bullshit. The facial expressions displayed by Carlson as Robbins was speaking were hilarious, I started to chuckle  which led to actual laughter which led to me ad-libbing what THE TUCK was “thinking” while ROBBINS was pontificating in the split screen. Soon, it had me holding my side due to my extreme laughter. I roared stating’ “this is the way it (watching the talking heads) should be every night”. 

   So, back to THE HELL THAT AWAITS… seems like 2023 could/should be a good year. I’m heading into my 72nd orbit, basically in fair health, and with enough money for three squares a day with a few cocktails thrown in, a roof over my head, and no pending arrest warrants, Yet, I know something is missing……..

Oh, Ye, gentle mistresses and most distinguished gentlemen, and others… The opinions and observations are solely my own views, and I take full responsibility for any errors of fact, not to mention any predictions that prove to be wildly inaccurate.

MUSHROOMS and OZZY…

   Recently, I read the article “Taking The Magic Out of Magic Mushrooms” (NYT 7/16/22) by Dr. Dana G. Smith a health and science writer and a former psychology researcher.Seems there has been clinical trials at NYU whereby large doses of psilocybin, the psychoactive ingredient in “magic mushrooms”, have been administered to patients dealing with anxiety and depression, especially those following a cancer diagnosis. The article describes in graphic detail what one patient experienced during his “trip”. That study found that psychedelic drugs like psilocybin are remarkably good at alleviating symptoms of depression and anxiety — even in many people who do not respond to currently prescribed medications.Hmmm…the article took me back to another time.

TICKETS TORN IN HALF: FEBRUARY 20, 1971:BLACK SABBATH/J.GEILS BAND/SIR LORD BALTIMORE:Three nights before I was out on a date viewing THE FACES, a snowy, cold night, overall a great show and date. Tonight I returned to FILLMORE EAST, orchestra seats toward the back of the hall, left side, to see a show with an acquaintance of mine, not necessarily a friend, but a nice guy nonetheless who had an extra ticket.  He called early afternoon asking if I wanted to go with him. Never one to say “No” away we went in my car. Taking my car was probably not the smartest move I’ve ever made but, hey, smart moves at 19 years of age isn’t the gold standard.This was a late show, scheduled for 11:30PM and since psychedelics were involved timing is of the essence. One could say in hindsight that taking psilocybin at a BLACK SABBATH show( my first and only) was probably my second mistake of the evening.

   The first act was SIR LORD BALTIMORE, a trio out of Brooklyn who had a drummer who was also their lead vocalist. Rumor has it that Bill Graham, after seeing this band perform that weekend decided that he had had enough. These guys were the pits, dreadful droning, a pathetic excuse for music.

  The J. GEILS BAND out of Boston was next, this their debut at FILLMORE EAST. I had wanted to see this band after hearing their record played many times by Bobby “Wizard” Wayne, the DJ on WCBS-FM. Most nights he played their stuff as often as he could. Strange occurrence seeing them tonight as lively as they were. The drummer had a few extra arms, the guitar player had greased back hair that shined brightly, and the singer moved like a gazelle. The harmonica player was huge, with hair exploding out of his head, almost touching the ceiling. The music was incredible, the visuals imagined, mere pleasant hallucinations. 

   Whew, while Geils was good, I still to this day did not know what to make of BLACK SABBATH except to say I was scared shitless the moment the lights dimmed. The music was unique, grinding, slow in pace, and very, very loud. The four piece ensemble was off to the right of the stage, seemed to be huddled together in close proximity. The rest of the stage looked empty to me. Then, the sound exploded from a wall of amplifiers. “N.I.B”, a song about Satan falling in love?, “War Pigs”, “Black Sabbath”, then the I AM IRON MAN intro to “Iron Man”…help me, what did I get myself in to?. I need to go home. I closed my eyes hoping it would end but alas, it did not. A few more tunes, a long guitar solo( he’s left handed) and the obligatory drum solo, whew…I was sweating profusely in February. Then, “Paranoid”, the place is going nuts, I’m shivering in my seat…”More, More”, the crowd is calling them back, me thinking,“Oh Lord, please make it stop, I’ll never do it again”… “Fairies Wear Boots”, Oh no, the singer is looking directly at me, pointing at me, taunting me, “Son, son, you’ve gone too far ‘Cause smokin’ and trippin’ is all that you do”. Finally, mercifully it ended.My partner for the evening loved it.

   Fortunately, I met a (sober) friend who needed a ride home so I tossed him my keys. My car was parked on a street by Astor Place, near “The Cube”. Some folks were having fun spinning it, sorta like my brain. After arriving home with the sunrise I went to bed but not immediately to sleep as the music was still ringing in my ears. 

   The next morning, more like early afternoon I was awaken by my mother’s voice calling up to my room informing me that a young lady, waiting in her car, wanted to speak with me. I thought, “What hell awaits me now?”…

to be continued…