California.
I have always found it interesting how any word will bring images to
the
mind. No word exists by itself. Every word is connected to so many
other
words and images it forms a holographic four dimensional collage
surrounding
itself. Follow any one word image to another in the mind and you will
find
that word image is also part of another collage, also surrounded with
untold
four dimensional word images, and all colored and flavored with sounds,
smells, tastes, and landscapes all their own.
All word images are the product of our experiences with that word. The
image
and meaning associated with any word are purely personal and are the
consequences of the experience we each have with that word.
Word associations: The Mama's and the Papa's California Dreaming; John
Steinbeck and Cannery Row; Monterey; a communal house called Big Big; a
young artist named Manuel who drew your soul in pen and ink; the blue
Pacific; washing dishes in a whorehouse; a 67 Firebird; 1968; 1969;
Abalone,
and a million other images come to mind, but lets stop at the collage
surrounding Abalone. There are so many different pathways leading from
California and Abalone...it's a story worth telling.
The Great Abalone Hunt of 1968.
It's a little foggy how it all started. The passage of time is only one
factor that has my memory a bit hazy. The other factor, and probably
the
leading cause of the memory fog, is I believe the adventure began at
one of
the parties at a flophouse I first resided in after arriving in
Monterey.
The best I can remember a young fellow named Jake was there and
somehow the
conversation turned to abalone. I was new to California and I had never
heard of abalone. He was telling me how great it was and how expensive
it
was, especially if you tried to buy abalone in a restaurant. But he
knew a few good spots where we could wade in the tide pool and fish them out
by
hand. That is, if we started out real early, and didn't get caught.
According to Jake the best places were protected, but he was
enlightened by
one of the locals on a few places were the Fish and Game didn't check
very
often. We would be poaching, but if we got in and out early in the
morning
we wouldn't get caught by the Fish and Game.
I didn't realize it right then, but Jake was working me, and working me
pretty good. He needed a car for this adventure, and I had a 67
Firebird.
Early the next morning I arrived a Jake's bungalow. I had to knock on
his
door to wake him up. I guess he didn't mean that early! His half of the
bungalow was a bit spartan, but it was a big improvement from the
flophouse.
He had just moved in so there wasn't much to clutter up the place, and
from
the looks of things he had yet to get around to buying much more than
a cup
and a saucepan to make "range coffee." That's where you boil a cup or
so of
water in a saucepan, throw in the coffee grounds, let it simmer a
little,
than pour in a cup of cold water to settle the grounds. It doesn't
make bad
coffee, but then at that time of the morning I guess any coffee isn't
bad.
It wasn't until we were in the car Jake informed me we needed to make
another stop along the way. We were picking up a fellow poacher in our
abalone adventure; a fellow who was even newer to California than I
was. We
shall call our new friend Mark. Mark was from the Midwest, and as best
as I
could make out was here on a lark. He arrived by bus a few days ago
and was
staying in a motel. I never learned how he and Jake hooked up since
Mark
wasn't very talkative. Maybe it was just me or the Firebird, not sure,
but
he hardly spoke but a few words and seemed to me to be a bit on the
defensive. Not that either of us needed to hold up our end of the
conversation; Jake pretty well managed to do all the talking. Mark must have heard nasty stories about all the riffraff and drug
crazed
hippies running around California. All his money was in travelers
checks,
and he was a little shy about letting anyone see which pocket it was
in.
Once we were on our way he did relax a bit and by the end of the
adventure
warmed to me a little. Heck, by the end of the adventure he was
practically
glowing!
It was still dark when the three of us got going, but there was a soft
glow
just beginning to peek over the horizon. Jake had us drive a bit south
heading to Big Sur. It was just daylight by the time we pulled over
into a
rest area just a few yards from the ocean. The sea otters were already
yipping it up, and it was another time I wished I hadn't hocked my
camera.
Damn it was beautiful. It also looked like it was mostly private
property
down on the beach. We sat in the car while Jake had a look around and
didn't
like what he saw. "Nope" he said, he didn't feel right about this
spot. He
thought someone was watching.
"This isn't the best spot anyway. There's a better spot a little south
of
here." We returned to the road and headed south again. We didn't get
very
far before Jake spotted a diner just opening. "Hey anyone hungry? Lets
stop
for some steak and eggs."
Now steak and eggs sounded great, but I was pretty broke. I was
basically
living on sticky buns and coffee the last two days with a few snack
bags
thrown in now and then. Steak and eggs would be the first decent meal
I had
in days. I mentioned to Jake my temporary lack of funding, but he said
not
to worry, Mark had plenty of money on him for breakfast, and treating
us to
steak and eggs was the least he could do since we were driving him all over
Rt 1. I didn't miss the "we"! Mark didn't say much, but Jake got him
to pay
for breakfast without so much as a grumble.
I didn't know Jake all that well, but I was beginning to. Over
breakfast it
hit me, we were on a Snark Hunt! Good old Jake was playing Mark for a
few
meals, and me to drive him there. I didn't say a word, but by the time
we
got back on the road headed to the next "good spot" Jake could tell I
was
wise to what was going on. I think he could read it in my eyes.
Whether Mark
knew was anyone guess, but after steak and eggs and a few cups of
really
good coffee we were all feeling good and ready for whatever was going
to
come next. It was a beautiful day, we had rock and roll on the radio,
we
were fed, and driving south on Rt 1 in California, which just may be
one of
the most gorgeous highways in the world. We were on an adventure and
becoming friends. I stopped caring about abalone. And that is the
object of
any good snark hunt. The object is not the snark, but the adventure of
the
hunt, and what you just may find along the way. Essentially not that
different from life itself.
Along the way we ran into another sometime resident of the flophouse
who was
hitching his way down to Big Sur. There was a party going on! I didn't
know
him well, but he and Jake were good friends. To hell with the abalone,
we
were going to a party in Big Sur. Someone had built a house in the
trees;
not a kids type of tree house, but an actual house, about 1300 sf by
the
looks of it, and they were throwing a party to celebrate.
I didn't stay too long, I was getting really tired from being up all
night
and day, and I had a job washing dishes in a whorehouse the next
morning.
When I left it looked as if Jake and Mark were still having a good time and
the great abalone hunt of 1968 ended in great success for all involved,
especially the abalone; who were never in any real danger from us
poachers
to begin with.
c.c.keiser
082805
;D Nice one Dude, maybe you ought to have yerself a column in the Dudespaper, mang: "The Occasional Flashbacks of CC Duder"
Just rolling, mang.
(http://i.imgur.com/tfQxF.jpg)
Quote from: cakebelly on January 01, 2011, 02:05:47 AM
;D Nice one Dude, maybe you ought to have yerself a column in the Dudespaper, mang: "The Occasional Flashbacks of CC Duder"
Just rolling, mang.
Nah, thanks, but that would turn something I like to do into something I have to do. I did enough "Have to dos" for one lifetime thankee.
Not sure why I posted the story dude, it must have been something about the new year or something. Frickin' flashbacks mang, ya just never know when they are going to hit you.
Sometimes you live life, and sometimes...well, sometimes life lives you.
Best post I've run into on this forum yet......
Quote from: the Oscar dude on January 19, 2011, 08:53:33 AM
Best post I've run into on this forum yet......
Thankee Oscar dude! I have my moments. ;D
Fuck Dude, I wanna go abalone poaching.
Dig the story man, nice stuff.
Quote from: revgms on January 19, 2011, 08:34:28 PM
Fuck Dude, I wanna go abalone poaching.
Dig the story man, nice stuff.
It's never too late dude. Just watch out for the Snark! :D
Thankee!
QuoteBest post I've run into on this forum yet
:o
No offence taken mate.... 8)
Beautiful writing and a great story, dude!
Sometimes I think I was born 20 years too late, then I remember a particular night-slash-morning with my good friend Scott, a couple tabs of acid, and a midget. Good times, man, good times...
Not the preferred nomenclature, I know... ;-)
You do have a way with the words! Fantastic imagery and read, as a native born Californian I do appreciate hearing of my homestate tho' I now reside on the opposite coast
Quote from: Rev.DoAJ on February 07, 2011, 04:33:57 PM
You do have a way with the words! Fantastic imagery and read, as a native born Californian I do appreciate hearing of my homestate tho' I now reside on the opposite coast
Thankee dude.
Yeah, I now live in Pennsylvania. California dreaming dude... California dreaming. 8)
Quote from: cckeiser on February 07, 2011, 04:36:35 PM
Quote from: Rev.DoAJ on February 07, 2011, 04:33:57 PM
You do have a way with the words! Fantastic imagery and read, as a native born Californian I do appreciate hearing of my homestate tho' I now reside on the opposite coast
Thankee dude.
Yeah, I now live in Pennsylvania. California dreaming dude... California dreaming. 8)
Wife and I visited Cali in 2007 for a conference, hit LA first to visit friends, Sushi and the J, then off to Berkeley hometown of one of my intellectual heroes Terence McKenna.
Where in PA if ya dont mind me askin'? We hung in the Alleghanies for a while
Quote from: Rev.DoAJ on February 07, 2011, 04:55:05 PM
Where in PA if ya dont mind me askin'? We hung in the Alleghanies for a while
Walnutport, about 20 miles north of Allentown...where they closed all the factories down.
A YouTube video to go along with my story dudes! ;D
http://youtu.be/hoQjwNaM-dU
AHHH Baloney ......
It is very good ... a little rich ...... cannot be sold commercially or harvested commercially ..... I used it in my Rock Garden ....
(http://i851.photobucket.com/albums/ab78/The14weed/Alberts%20Garden/AbaloneSpiral2.jpg)
(http://i851.photobucket.com/albums/ab78/The14weed/Alberts%20Garden/AbaloneSpiral.jpg)
I suspect that California is a very Dudely state.
Which does bring up an interesting notion about what are the most Dudely States.
I'm from New York and I'd admit we are very undude. I tell people from New Hampshire, the "live free or die" state that "we have the die part but not the live free part".
In our Neighborhood Vermont is hands down the most dudely state.
Quote from: 4weeddude on July 25, 2011, 05:02:58 PM
AHHH Baloney ......
It is very good ... a little rich ...... cannot be sold commercially or harvested commercially ..... I used it in my Rock Garden ....
(http://i851.photobucket.com/albums/ab78/The14weed/Alberts%20Garden/AbaloneSpiral2.jpg)
(http://i851.photobucket.com/albums/ab78/The14weed/Alberts%20Garden/AbaloneSpiral.jpg)
Fabulous 4weeddude! Just fabulous stuff man. Thankee! Now we got art to go with the story and the video. Or is that a story to go with the art? ;D
I do love your stone art balancing thing dude...don't know how you do it. So how did you get started with this medium dude? 8)
Brilliant art dude.... I really really dig your stuff man. I love the comic book things you've got going too...I've never seen any of them before and I would love to read a whole one....
Peace dude.
Oh BTW have I told Kivip to fuck off yet?
calif. is not a dudely state, i wish it were. there are assholes in abundance in every town, just like everywhere else.
that said, my little area, full of assholes as it is, is also gorgeous and 20 away from malibu. any dudes coming through should contact me for a free place( the garage converted into a herp room) to crash! dudesitmom@hotmail.com
There are so many different pathways leading from California and Abalone it's a story worth the telling.
Abalone.... I'm pretty sure Jack Kerouac went abalone hunting one time...or maybe that's just a flashback! ;)
In my humble experience as a traveling dude, and I have lived, worked, and partied in many states in the U.S.of A.
I can atest to the feeling of dudeliness felt throughout every place I have been, and at the same token, had to deal with the nihilists right there with em.
You can't succomb to the grass being greener on the other side, because it really isn't as far as people go. You can hit some wonderful high tones and sweet spots in certain necks of the woods among the states, but you can't go looking for a nugget of gold in a coal mine, er you can't drain water from an empty well, hmm...something like that. Well, what I mean to say is don't expect to find dudes amid the hustle and bustle of Manhattan, or by the stump on the log where Fred and Ethel live out in the boonies.
I've never personally been to california, but it seems like it could be very dudely especially in the snowy parts, and the beachy parts.
Ps - I want to try some Abalone...that is all.
Quote from: rajeshbiswal on June 10, 2012, 07:48:39 AM
There are so many different pathways leading from California and Abalone it's a story worth the telling.
Thanks dude...I did an edit. 8)
Even with all the stuffed shirts here San Diego is a very dude town. Not only on the beach but throughout
Quote from: Markijuano on October 09, 2012, 12:07:12 AM
Even with all the stuffed shirts here San Diego is a very dude town. Not only on the beach but throughout
Hey Markijuano dude, just dropping a welcome to you. Good to have you here. Grab a run and join the party, mang!