In life, if you ever step out of the “norm” and end up in a counter-culture movement e.g. punk, hippie, Goth, mod. . what have you, you’ll end up with some tales of the crap you took. My Dad relayed a story to me years ago, about a time in the early to mid-1970’s. He traveled across the country (from California to New Hampshire) with his Sister and Brother-In-Law to help them move. The trip took them from California through the top of Texas into the Midwest and finally New Hampshire. The trip went fine except for when they had to stop and eat in the South or the Midwest, almost all the diners refused to serve him or in some cases, even acknowledge him, all because he had long hair and a beard. The first handful of refusals he was angry, and called them outside, but after a bit you just move on. About ten or fifteen years later my father, brother and I are in Downtown, Los Angeles to attend the annual Street Scene festival, one summer, I think 1981. Anyway, it was slightly overcast, so I used that as an excuse to wear my leather jacket. So, as we’re walking along the Street Scene workers keep handing us leaflets, maps, and coupons, etc. all the while I’m stuffing them into the inside pocket of my leather jacket. After an hour or two of walking around we notice people lining up along the sidewalks, preparing for a small parade. So, we stand to the side and the Los Angeles Mayor (at the time) Tom Bradley starts walking up the street flanked by two huge bodyguards (with short Jheri-Curls). Around this time my brother asks where we we should go next? As the Mayor is right in front of us I reach into my jacket to get the map, and by the time I look up I am being accosted, and damn near leveled by the Mayor’s bodyguards. After being shaken down for about a minute my dad starts yelling “Tom, it’s my son!” My father worked in City Hall as Head of The Street Tree Division, so he had dealt with Bradley on occasion. Finally, they let me go, and the Mayor walks over and pats my head and says “Good boy.” And walks away. Apparently the bodyguards thought I was reaching for a gun. It’s funny how as time passes the culture gives way to acceptance. A couple of summers back at the Comic-Con, in San Diego; I counted at least 25 Mohawks in the audience, without anyone batting an eye. #michaelessington #lifewontwait
Posted on: Tue, 09 Sep 2014 16:54:20 +0000
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