The judicial convention story reminded me of Hunter Thompson, but if it had been him, he would have been flying on high powered blotter acid, the women would have antelopes' heads, and the judges would all have on gorilla suits.
The Woodstock part confirmed that you know how to deal with shit.
Great story, Lucian. Interesting (to me) that your tale revolves around your relationship with Chip Monck. I was at Woodstock, and the mellifluous tones of his voice still resonate after all these years. Recently, I was reading an oral history of the event in which he was quoted often, which in turn triggered an internet search for more details about him. Such an engaging and accomplished man!
Interesting also that you were headed west to cover the final performance of Dylan and The Band. On July 14, 1969, one month prior to Woodstock, The Band performed under the tent at the Mississippi River Festival in Edwardsville, IL, across the river from St. Louis. At the end of the concert, as many attendees headed to the parking lot, we scrambled forward to now empty seats close to the stage, certain there would be an encore. We were soon rewarded (thrilled) by the surprise appearance on stage of special guest Bob Dylan, his first public performance since his motorcycle accident three years earlier.
Thanks for stirring up fond memories. Looking forward to chapter two.
“It’s all happening”... travel is life. I’ve driven across 4 times. The last time alone. It was the best. Looking forward to part two. Ahhh motel stories.
Well, Lucian, great story! I had a similar experience in 1995. I took my wife and her daughter out to California to show them what the left coast was like. Flew in to LA and then up the coast, doing the Hearst Estate and Monterey on the way to visit my daughter who was a student at Cal. When we got to Berkeley Dina said her roommates would be happy to let us stay at their rented house.
It was a typical student crash-pad, well at least as I had always envisioned as one, every spare nook had been turned into a bed so they could fit as many students in as possible to lower everyone’s rent. Only the kitchen and the front room was spared for common space. I let Barbara and her daughter,Joy, share a futon and I got a cobbled together upper bunk in a closet:-) This sounds nice, right? It was only for three days.
It would have been great but they had a house cat! Okay, well what is wrong with that you say? First, it was not a particularly friendly cat. It didn’t want to have anything to do with us. I usually get along with other people’s pets(like grandkids, fun to play with but you get to send them home when you’ve had enough) but this cat didn’t want to play. And that was not the worst part, this cat had made an indoor litter box. The only problem was no one emptied or kept it clean because they were not sure where the cat was doing it’s business! The smell was everywhere. The kids’ noses had just learned to ignore it but for us foreigners it was horrible. We left our bags and got out of there as quickly as possible to look around Berkeley, eat and shop for breakfast food for the morning.
The night was not much fun. The smell and climbing in and out of that wooden shelf that they called a bunk made for an uncomfortable sleep. Next morning I was up early and tried to cook on this big old stove that would have been charming to own today in our retro world but it was in dire need of repair. And the SMELL, As the stove slowly heated up it got worse! Looking underneath, the old stove had legs, we discovered the cat’s deposits! I did try to clean out the mess later. I think I got most of the deposits but the smell wasn’t going anywhere. We went out for breakfast and stayed out for the day.
The second night Joy and I switched, she got the closet and I joined Barbara on the futon. At least this room had a window:-) But of course it had its own problem, the futon base was broken. No matter which end you sat on, the other end popped up and then crashed down. If you sat on in the middle both ends popped up. Another restless night!
By the next morning we had all had enough! We thanked Dina and her roommates that were around for their hospitality but that we would spend the next night at a motel near the Oakland Airport because we had an early flight. A bit of a white lie but that smell was just too much. So we spent the day in San Francisco, always fun to visit. We took Dina home and then headed to the Oakland Airport to find a place to spend the night.
The map apps in those days were not as good as today. I am not sure but I don’t think Yelp was up and running so we just headed down to the Airport which I was sure had plenty of hotels for travelers. We were on a tight budget in those days so I was not looking for a Marriott. The very first motel we saw close to the airport was an old style motel like you described with balconies around the inside I think. Anyway I left Barbara and Joy in the car and went to check in. The first thing I noticed was that the front desk was totally blocked off by heavy shatter proof glass with a small slot to pass money, credit cards and registration forms and a speaker grill. Not a very welcoming sight. Behind the desk was a small office that looked more like a sitting room with a tv that was on but no clerk. There was a bell button. After a longer than normal wait, a small rather disheveled man appeared wearing a grin and a robe! I as beginning to have my doubts. I explained that I needed a rooms for the night for my wife and I and my daughter. He looked me up and down and then said with a bit of a smirk that this was an Adult Only motel!!
We slept in a very nice and expensive Marriott that night.
I just got my credit card statement and i laughed when i saw " Lucian Truscott IV" . Best 60 bucks I've ever spent in my life !
The judicial convention story reminded me of Hunter Thompson, but if it had been him, he would have been flying on high powered blotter acid, the women would have antelopes' heads, and the judges would all have on gorilla suits.
The Woodstock part confirmed that you know how to deal with shit.
Great story, Lucian. Interesting (to me) that your tale revolves around your relationship with Chip Monck. I was at Woodstock, and the mellifluous tones of his voice still resonate after all these years. Recently, I was reading an oral history of the event in which he was quoted often, which in turn triggered an internet search for more details about him. Such an engaging and accomplished man!
Interesting also that you were headed west to cover the final performance of Dylan and The Band. On July 14, 1969, one month prior to Woodstock, The Band performed under the tent at the Mississippi River Festival in Edwardsville, IL, across the river from St. Louis. At the end of the concert, as many attendees headed to the parking lot, we scrambled forward to now empty seats close to the stage, certain there would be an encore. We were soon rewarded (thrilled) by the surprise appearance on stage of special guest Bob Dylan, his first public performance since his motorcycle accident three years earlier.
Thanks for stirring up fond memories. Looking forward to chapter two.
Nixon appointments, no doubt....😊
I shared this with some of my "Judge Friends". Many will be amused, some not. Them be Republicans. That's the difference.
Wrote a hat tip for this at my own Substack today..... https://gregmitchell.substack.com/p/whats-going-on-special-snowstorm
Thanks Greg! I saw it. Now I have to sit down and write part 2....
“It’s all happening”... travel is life. I’ve driven across 4 times. The last time alone. It was the best. Looking forward to part two. Ahhh motel stories.
Well, Lucian, great story! I had a similar experience in 1995. I took my wife and her daughter out to California to show them what the left coast was like. Flew in to LA and then up the coast, doing the Hearst Estate and Monterey on the way to visit my daughter who was a student at Cal. When we got to Berkeley Dina said her roommates would be happy to let us stay at their rented house.
It was a typical student crash-pad, well at least as I had always envisioned as one, every spare nook had been turned into a bed so they could fit as many students in as possible to lower everyone’s rent. Only the kitchen and the front room was spared for common space. I let Barbara and her daughter,Joy, share a futon and I got a cobbled together upper bunk in a closet:-) This sounds nice, right? It was only for three days.
It would have been great but they had a house cat! Okay, well what is wrong with that you say? First, it was not a particularly friendly cat. It didn’t want to have anything to do with us. I usually get along with other people’s pets(like grandkids, fun to play with but you get to send them home when you’ve had enough) but this cat didn’t want to play. And that was not the worst part, this cat had made an indoor litter box. The only problem was no one emptied or kept it clean because they were not sure where the cat was doing it’s business! The smell was everywhere. The kids’ noses had just learned to ignore it but for us foreigners it was horrible. We left our bags and got out of there as quickly as possible to look around Berkeley, eat and shop for breakfast food for the morning.
The night was not much fun. The smell and climbing in and out of that wooden shelf that they called a bunk made for an uncomfortable sleep. Next morning I was up early and tried to cook on this big old stove that would have been charming to own today in our retro world but it was in dire need of repair. And the SMELL, As the stove slowly heated up it got worse! Looking underneath, the old stove had legs, we discovered the cat’s deposits! I did try to clean out the mess later. I think I got most of the deposits but the smell wasn’t going anywhere. We went out for breakfast and stayed out for the day.
The second night Joy and I switched, she got the closet and I joined Barbara on the futon. At least this room had a window:-) But of course it had its own problem, the futon base was broken. No matter which end you sat on, the other end popped up and then crashed down. If you sat on in the middle both ends popped up. Another restless night!
By the next morning we had all had enough! We thanked Dina and her roommates that were around for their hospitality but that we would spend the next night at a motel near the Oakland Airport because we had an early flight. A bit of a white lie but that smell was just too much. So we spent the day in San Francisco, always fun to visit. We took Dina home and then headed to the Oakland Airport to find a place to spend the night.
The map apps in those days were not as good as today. I am not sure but I don’t think Yelp was up and running so we just headed down to the Airport which I was sure had plenty of hotels for travelers. We were on a tight budget in those days so I was not looking for a Marriott. The very first motel we saw close to the airport was an old style motel like you described with balconies around the inside I think. Anyway I left Barbara and Joy in the car and went to check in. The first thing I noticed was that the front desk was totally blocked off by heavy shatter proof glass with a small slot to pass money, credit cards and registration forms and a speaker grill. Not a very welcoming sight. Behind the desk was a small office that looked more like a sitting room with a tv that was on but no clerk. There was a bell button. After a longer than normal wait, a small rather disheveled man appeared wearing a grin and a robe! I as beginning to have my doubts. I explained that I needed a rooms for the night for my wife and I and my daughter. He looked me up and down and then said with a bit of a smirk that this was an Adult Only motel!!
We slept in a very nice and expensive Marriott that night.