Dead Head’s Digs

The Strange Single Trip

Truckin’ Through Life

Jack Straw from Wichita. He is the birkenstock wearing, Grateful Dead jamming, pot smoking hippie who takes the laid back approach to life. He doesn’t rush in. He’s one day at a time and summer can change to fall, to winter before you see a spring in his step. When faced with anything remotely challenging his gut reaction is to wait things out.


Jack lives in a time capsule with posters and tie-died Afghans tacked to his walls. Our bachelor Robbie calls the Bong additional decorative artwork. “It’s worth more than her designer Gucci purse.” 


Music is playing from a unique sound system jury rigged to play vaulted show tapes. The apartment is one-hundred degrees with no air conditioning and you can barley make out the music. It is drown out by the electric fans.  The whole place reeks like incense and Patchouli Oil since no one living here is showering. There is only place to sit. It’s a Papasan chair that right now the shaggy haired rescue mutt is curled up in.  Suffice to say this apartment is a month-to-month rent.

Papsan Chair

You need more than a miracle, if this how you still live.  Think of it like Jesus and the Catholics, Jerry died so you could live. Take advantage of the opportunity you’ve been given and change direction. Perhaps married and with children, you’ll back someday laughing at what a long strange trip it has been.















One thought on “Dead Head’s Digs

  1. worth more in a spiritual sense, fo’ sho’!

    skimming through rays of violet, wading in drops of dew – it all depends on what’s with you.


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