pdf (385 pages / 37MB), with thanks to the original sharer
It
was a good restaurant, air-conditioned and such, and right outside the window,
the hip kids were massing for the nightly wander. The lights had come on and
the street was full of young people. Boots on the girls, very sexy, slogan
buttons everywhere, army surplus shirts and wide belts were all around and most
of the people looked pretty upset. They looked tense and annoyed and they
weren't kidding. The postwar Beat Movement may have been religious but excluding
a few archaic nuts, most of the folks I know today want nothing more than to
wipe their asses with the whole country starting with the president. The media
carry reassuring descriptions of the love-ins and how they wore flowers in their
hair, but miss or ignore the fact that there were thousands there and most of
them loathe their parents. I read some article by a foremost psychologist, ha,
ha, who thinks that these are the businessmen and political leaders of
tomorrow. "A healthy phase," he says, and not to worry, soon they
will shave and shear and take the reins of our runaway tin horse. No, I know a
lot of these "hippies" and neither they nor their friends have any
intention of punking down to America. They are sick of it and its leaders.
So a few psychologists volunteered, but not
many. I could see their point actually. Who wants to sit on a hill in brisk
spring weather and watch a bunch of freaks gum sandwiches? I say gum because
few street junkies keep their teeth for long. People have so much trouble that
the dentist shop at Narco will pull out all your teeth free of charge, if you
so desire. But they won't put any in. I remember back on orientation, a
Pittsburgh dope fiend I talked to a lot returned to the day room one afternoon
without any teeth. We played cards for a while, but I excused myself because I
couldn't stand his new mushy voice and the way the blood crept up the Lucky
Strike cigarette that he kept in the corner of his mouth.
