Here is a little story about what to do with butter on your fingers.
One evening at dinner, we were
all sitting at the very long (chow down) dinner table. The women
were running around serving everyone, being mothers (sisters of mercy).
I had brown rice, fresh milk, fresh butter, applebutter, and homemade bread.
One more item, corn on the cob, turned my life around. Some time
during the evening, a decision was made that Tom would be turned on to
some really good shit. I said I really didn't need it, but they said
it would be fine. They were right, I was fine. I had been turned
on right before dinner by Sylvia. Now, let's get back to the corn.
I was sitting enjoying our dinnertime together. I took an ear of
corn, buttered it with my knife, and started eating. Well, wouldn't
you know it, I got butter on my cheeks and hands. I looked around
for my napkin, but couldn't find one. I was perplexed, to say the
least, because what was I going to do. Everyone else was enjoying
their dinner totally unaware of my plight. Well, the sisters of mercy
understood what was happening right away. I still had my hands in
the air, afraid to touch anything. Joanie and Sylvia said to me,
so sweetly, that it was okay to rub the butter off on my shirt and pants.
I paused, looking perplexed, and they said it again, "It's okay, this is
a free country, and you are free to do as you please." Well, everything
was taking effect, and pleasant feelings of warmth surrounded us all.
I cleaned my hands on my shirt and pants, and resumed eating my corn.
The wonder of the moment was love and pure joy, and I smiled. The
sisters of mercy understood it. They were swept up in a tide of pure,
emotional joy. Butter was placed everywhere, and everyone was pleased
and happy. I was turned on and relieved of my past inhibitions.
All three of us ended up in the outside shower, washing the butter off
each other.
After the dinner and the shower,
the sun was beginning to go down. Sylvia said that we should go over
to friend's place, and I said, "Okay." We walked hand-in-hand a quarter
of a mile to Tom's and Andie's house where a campfire was going off to
the left. There were people sitting around the campfire, singing
campfire songs, and passing smoke. Sylvia and I sat down in the circle,
and we said hello. We sang and discussed the nature of the world's
plight, while the embers turned red. Joanie read to us from Winnie
the Pooh by lamplight. She had good taste. "This is where it's
at." And, that is how I met Joanie.
I absolutely loved this period
of my life. I was taught by Huw, Sylvia's husband, the beauty of
Tolstoy and his short stories. Read Tolstoy. You, too, will
find the goodness of his thoughts.
*
During the first week at Tolstoy I was turned
on to acid. The incident with the corn was the first trip. I was guided
by the love of Sylvia and Joanie. Later that night I was turned on to Smoke
at the campfire. These two incidents happened the same day. Everyone was
very pleased with the good emotions of the day.
*
I was being turned on by two lovely young ladies,
the shower was pure gentle clean emotion. Clean and pure, the cleanliness
you would expect from the Garden of Eden. These simple emotion were understood
as the new emotions of the times. Someone at some point ( my youth and
religious teachings ) was saying, "showering with two young ladies was
not good", but good for the young nation it was, back to the Garden of
Eden.
When you see three young children showering under
the sprinklers outside nude, you may understand the purity of the shower,
warm lovable emotions were spread about liberally.
These are good times.
I still love these young ladies.
The
Trip To Morningstar
The Trip to Morningstar really
began at Tolstoy farm, a farming community in the Northwest. While
at Tolstoy, I decided to go off to pick apples so the commune and I could
have some expense money. I left in early September and headed for
the Yakima Valley in Washington State. The valley is known for its
large, delicious fruit. I had been in the valley the year before
picking apples.
+
The Chief Joseph Dam, I visit on my way to pick
apples. I stopped and wondered at the site. Porcelain, steel and concrete.
The adjacent park has a rest room, a place to wash the detailed maintenance
of my body, in the evening I roll out the sleeping bag and lay under the
stars. I listen to the night creatures, peaceful sleeping.
+
The winding road follows the winding river. The
cold clear water rolls over white, black and brown rocks. I look across
the river and see a apple orchard and farther back I see hills. It doesn't
matter on which side of the river I am on, the view is the same, looking
east or west. This is a long valley, the apple country. All the things
that matter are here for the apples. A narrow winding ribbon of road, orchards
and river wind forever. I have slept beyond the rail timbers, under the
stars here. A good peaceful sleep, waking to the wonders around me.
+
I knew when I left Tolstoy that I would
make good money because of my previous experience. It didn't take
long for me to find a job. I only looked for those groves with trees
about eight to 10 feet tall. I told one orchard owner that I was
a very careful picker and showed him just how careful I was. He hired
me on the spot, and I started working right away. I think I was there
for about a week. At night I would sleep under the apple trees in
the tall grass, wondering and gazing at the stars. While I was there
picking the fruit, a man dressed in white came up to me in the orchard
and asked if I was Tomas. I said, "Yes," and he introduced himself
as Ramon. I said I knew about him from Joanie, who had frequently
talked of him. He said he was with a group of people from Tolstoy.
He said Joanie, Nancy, her friend Wally, and the two kids were with him.
They were on their way to Morningstar, a commune near San Francisco.
They asked if I would like to come along. I don't know why I agreed
to accompany them. Maybe I said, "Why not?" Anyway, I left
within the half-hour.
To this day I do not know
how Ramon found me in the Apple orchids of the Yakima Valley?
We traveled in two vans. Ramon,
Joanie and I were in one van, and Nancy, her friend, and the two kids were
in the other.
We left the apple orchard
and headed South. Upon sighting a national park maybe 50 miles down
the road, we headed into it. The two vans pulled into a free campsite
where we proceeded to set up camp for the night. I made a pine needle
bed, something I had learned to do in my youth. Ramon and Nancy both
had Coleman camp stoves to set up. Everybody found something useful
to do. After we had settled in, we enjoyed the woods. Later
before dark, the women cooked dinner. We all talked and had a good
time.
The ritual of finding a state
or national park was repeated every day. We traveled sometimes 50
miles a day, and sometimes 150 miles a day. We were in no hurry.
I just enjoyed my holiday. On all occasions but one we camped outdoors.
Some time during the trip we had a pouring, non-stop rain. There
was no chance to set up outdoors, so we set up camp in the men's restroom
of a national park for the night. I remember a man coming in, looking
around, and turning and going back out.
Nancy had the bright idea
that she could go into any town and get food stamps. She had previoiusly
worked for the state welfare department. So, at the first town we
came to, she told us what she wanted us to do. She explained to everyone
what the requirements were for obtaining food stamps in California.
Somewhere along the line, she said that I should also get food stamps.
I gave her a lot of, "But I, . . . but I, . . . but I's." She persisted
that I should also get stamps. This lady had balls. As it happened,
we all went to the welfare office and went through the red tape.
The welfare people didn't know it, but they had been had by a lady with
balls. Five of us received food stamps. I received my share
of $50.00's worth. Nancy and her friend got the most because of the
children. Ramon and Joanie fell somewhere in between. The vans
were loaded down with groceries like a pickup loaded with dirt.
We could hardly keep the front wheels on the ground. God, that lady
had balls.
Once we stopped at a commune
called The Church of the Golden Rule. It was somewhere in California.
They had a gas station and a store/gift shop on the coast highway.
Down below in the valley they probably had 200 to 300 acres of farmland
with beautiful farm buildings that were painted white with red trim.
Dairy cattle and horses were everywhere you looked. These were wealthy
farmers. They invited us in after discovering that we were going
to a commune, because Ramon spoke about Morningstar. They could not
see any way someone could have a free access commune without going under,
but Ramon said, "See for yourself," and told them about Morningstar.
At another stop, the campground
had an adjacent park with a large pool. Everybody went for a
swim at midnight in the moonlight while it was unattended.
Somewhere along the line we attended a PTA meeting,
where we all sat on the floor with the ladies in the lotus position, while
Ramon spoke of alternative lifestyles and communal living. After
the meeting we milled around. People asked us questions about what
we were doing and why. You can imagine how colorful this was.
What a sight! Flowers, beads, feathers, and Red Ball boots.
I really don't know how long
it took to make the trip down, but it was quite a spell. I had been
on trips before, but this time a fun time was had by all.
Tomas2
Home