Back in the day, I lived in San Francisco for a short while. Enjoyed life there. Who wouldn't? It was during the height of the so-called "hippie movement" and I was avid observer. I lived practically across the street from Panhandle Park where Ken Kessey and his "Merry Pranksters" did their act. It was, as they used to say, "A hoot."
Entertainment was plentiful and cheap. I particularly liked the shows in North Beach put on by the drag queens. It was a harmless and creative type of humor, designed to make people feel better.
The Draft Board interrupted my carefree life. Before long I wound up on a bunker at the edge of the jungle on a mountain overlooking the Da Nang harbor hoping I wouldn’t get shot. The watches were six hours long and one was from midnight until 0600. It was particularly demanding. I did exercises to stay awake. One was to make a mental list of people in my life who had done me wrong and another of those who had done me “solids.”
The drag queens never made the first list, but a lot of
politicians and self-proclaimed Christians did. Funny how the people on that
list never went away but are still around in the same form with different faces,
most of them snarling.
You didn't become a fascist because you love Jesus. Admit it. The Sermon on the Mountain makes you nauseated.
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