[quote]Was it a guy claiming to be a Rolling Stone reporter who wanted you to rub Vaseline on his nutsack?/quote]
Rolling Stone magazine wasn't even two years old then and probably didn't send reporters to Paris. The first time I saw a copy was at a rock festival in Bath, England in the summer of 1969. Led Zeppelin played. They had one record at the time that I had heard a lot of but their live performance grossed me out with their antics. Jimmy Page pretended to masturbate on the guitar. I heard so many rock concerts in England that summer I couldn't remember much about that one. Roy Harper played and said he'd never do another festival. According to the website Fleetwood Mac played. I heard them at the Albert Hall that summer. They were great.
http://www.ukrockfestivals.com/the-69-b ... tival.html
As far as Mr.Disgusto in the Cathedrale de Notre Dame I haven't thought about this episode since probably 1969 and just started to remember and still feel like vomiting. It was a creepy French guy with a mustache probably in his late thirties. I was all of 19 and talked to almost anybody then. We had about a three second conversation. I don't know if he wanted it on the floor or the benches in full view of the pilgrims and tourists or in a back alley. He probably got killed one day when someone took him up on his offer.
As for Shelley who picked me up hitchhiking our relationship didn't last long. The next guy she got involved with was black and owned an African and soul food restaurant that advertised a special Ndugu sauce on State St. in Madison Wisconsin. I never met him but he seemed like a decent enough guy and not like the brothers from the ghetto who came to fuck (fuck over really) white college girls for all the real and imagined evils they believed the white race had perpetrated on them. I don't know why any girl would talk to them let alone sleep with one. It was asking for trouble. but maybe it was due to a misplaced sense of guilt, a belief the brothers were fantastic lovers with all that natural rhythm blacks supposedly had or some perverted rebellion against their parents and society.
Ndugu knocked Shelley up and left her. I couldn't believe it - the classic stereotype of what black guys did to white girls. I wonder what happened to her. She had beautiful blue eyes and smoked a lot of cigarettes. I hope she stopped before she got cancer. Shelley's parents were very straight and disgusted with the idea that she had been with a black guy and were about to have a mixed race grand daughter. I think she raised that kid alone with no help from her parents but maybe they came around eventually.
I look back on what a lot of us did in those years in the name of rebellion and freedom with utter disbelief. We were insane. Later one of my teachers said, "Society turns an 18 year old kid out of the house who rebels against everything and thinks he can change the world." Previous generations and so called primitive cultures where the elders are given a lot more respect and control would never allow that. I'm not romanticizing those cultures nor would I want to be in one but they were on to something very important about limits to freedom. For most of us there was no one with any wisdom to tell us that being so 'free' was liable to leave some bad burns and scars for a lifetime. Not that most of us including myself would have listened to anybody no matter how much life experience and wisdom they had.
There are women now in their late sixties who were very pretty when they were young and had a lot of guys (I know two who fucked 35 - are there even 35 good men on earth? - well maybe on IGX) and went from one relationship to another, sometimes on a whim. They've aged badly and have been alone for years and never had the children they wanted. I can not imagine what that means for a woman who badly wanted a child. From what women have told me it's not the same as for guys.
I started skateboarding in my late 20's and learned some valuable lessons. If I tried something two steps beyond my capability I fell. Falling at that age on asphalt while learning isn't like falling as a ten year old. I almost broke my hand and the pain lasted six weeks. Now pain from the same kind of fall could last for months or longer. I realized that life was also like that but the feedback might not be so instantaneous. Now I know it can take decades to get the feedback and the damage could be permanent.
Dan John says he knows he has one more bad injury but maybe not another recovery. It can be like that in families between parents and children and between spouses. I was at a spiritual retreat when somebody said, "If you can make peace with your parents do it before it's too late. I finally realized that and my father died a year ago." Another of my teachers said there should be one day a year when parents and children forgive each other and a day for husband and wife." It's in the Jewish tradition before Yom Kippur. My sense is that even people who do forgive and ask forgiveness aren't doing it on a very deep level. My father said, "We get old too soon and shmart too late." I never thought I'd live past 35 which seemed ancient at the time and here I am at 65. I know what I did every year but it sure went fast.