Today started out like any other day, at least for the first 10 minutes. I rolled out of bed, started up the pot of coffee, removed dear little Fluffy's usual feed-me-or-get-clawed embrace, and rolled me up my morning cigarette. With coffee in hand, I headed out to enjoy the morning fogshine with a nice hot cup and my smoke.
I was a bit startled to hear voices calling out my name, "Hey, Dead!" as most in the neighborhood wait until fogshine has changed into sunshine to leave their abodes to start quacking at me. Quick thinking on my part led to my saying, "Yes?????"
"Shuddup and listen!" said the three part harmonizing voices.
"O.k." says I.
"Shuddup!!!!" they said again.
So this time I did just that. I shut up, I waited just a bit, took a good sip of coffee and a drag off my cigarette, and the voices came forth again.
"Dead, it is time for you to build a CHOPPER!"
"Umm, sure." I replied, having a sense I had heard these voices before. With that having been said, a blinding flash of sun/foglight pierced the early morning sky, leaving me alone once again.
As I stood there looking over at the chopper project against the wall, it occurred to me that not only was I burning the tips of my fingers with a now very short non filter cigarette, but I also had realised who the three voices were. Why with their telling me to shut up, having all three voices harmonizing at the same time, and the blazing theatrics in the sky, it could only mean that the heavenly trio was talking to me again. Yes, dear readers, for the second time in my life I had come face to faces with the spirit world of Jerry Garcia, Frank Zappa, and Timothy Leary!
So I thought about what they said, and looked over at the chopper. Then I went to the shed, looked at all the bikes and parts, and thought about what they said. I went back to the chopper, took a sip of coffee, and thought once again about what they said. Then I went back to the shed, and lit a smoke. In another brief flash of light, this time from my lighter, I remembered back to the last time I had an encounter with this trio so many moons ago.
"Dead....." they called out to me.
"What?" I replied.
"Shuddup and listen" they said.
"O.k." I replied.
Once again, "Will you shut up and listen?" the three echoed forth.
So I shut up and listened.
"Dead," they said, "You need to quit your job, sell your possesions, go to town and buy a school bus then head to the desert east of Los Angeles and start the Commune For International Peace and Harmony."
"Uhh, yeah, sure thing", I replied. And Poof! Off into a cloud they went.
Not being one to argue with spirits, especially those three all appearing at the same time, I did so. The commune grew and flourished, and we were all quite happy to be one with each other and nature. That is, until the day the strangers came. And boy, did they come! Red lights a flashing, mean, nasty voices hollering, "FREEZE, HIPPY!", multiple helicopter rotors rotoring, and ferociously barking dope sniffing dogs all joining in the melee!
"Where's that ten acres of dope ya'll are growing out here, hippy?" snarled the biggest, meanest, most dogfaced one of the lot.
"You mean to tell me that with 50 million helicopters buzzin' all over a big brown desert, you can't find 10 acres of anything lush and green, and we might barely have a teeny tiny joint left to smoke between the 30 of us?" I replied.
"Ya'll are in a big heap of trouble, boy," dog face replied. "Book'em, and search every single inch of this filthy place!!"
So off we were escorted to a much nicer bus than the one that had gotten us here, and each of us placed in lovely white jackets with arm sleeves that tied behind our backs, we were given a V.I.P trip to a beautiful gated community, where I assumed we were going to be treated to a bountiful sushi lunch, as the rooms each of us were led into had no tables or chairs and only comfortably padded walls for us to dine in. As the door closed on up behind me, I couldn't help but to wonder if this is kinda what Jerry, Frank, and Timothy had had in mind all along.....
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It was as the second cigarette of the day started burning my other fingertips and snapped me back into the moment, that I realised that the flash from my lighter was the true sign I needed to follow. Yep, having followed the trio's advice before led to quite a bit less than promising results, so it was decided then and there that this wasn't gonna be another chopper build--not after the commune incident. This time, I'm gonna just go from the start and build my dream bike, seeing as how all this crap just may indeed be nothing but a dream.(Execpt of course for the photos that can back up the whole story, but that's just a minor detail...I mean, come on, if you go back to the first photo and look to the right of the sun and up just a tad while you kinda squint, well, there just might be an image of one of the spirited threesome. Hell, I ain't gonna argue with it!)
So that's what I'm gonna go for, a nice and simple 1950 look with a unit engine to make it go. Now let's all hope that in a few months when the thing gets kicked over and fires up for the first time, Jerry, Frank, and Timothy don't come back to hassle me with any more visions like rubber ducks, semi's, and eleven longhaired friends of Jesus in a chartreuse micro bus......
