Thanks for the trip down memory lane
Pine Mountain
The River
Corblie’s (different spot on the same river, Corblie’s dead)
Filliponi’s (different spot on the same river, Filliponi’s bald)
The Creek (unlike The River, The Creek had water year round)
The Grade (You could see the whole county from there, even where Preacher lives)
Pirates Cove (it was just turning into a nude beach back then)
Four Corners was where most of our parties started it was out in the middle of nowhere, it’s the place that James Dean ran the stop sign and was killed. There was a little mom and pop store there and if you were old enough to open the door they would gladly sell you beer.
Quote:
Originally Posted by virgohippy
Venice Beach
A hippie and counter-culture haven for those in the know, and those who like to pretend they're in the know. A lot of interesting folk go there to pretend they're productive members of society and do business with the normies. 
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Hippy I have a Venice Beach story for ya.
In my late twenties I broke my neck, did a good job spent a total of nine and a half months in the hospital with a three month hospital break after six months. So after a year plus the Doctor’s and Therapist’s figured I was about as good as I was going to get and finale agreed to let me out of the hospital for good. I felt like a fucking freak, my left arm didn’t work, to walk I had to strap a brace on to keep my left leg locked and use a crutch. I was completely numb except for the left side of my torso and I would turn into a human vibrator over a cold breeze or a trauma to my body like falling, which I did a lot and believe me it was a bitch getting up
The only place I could think of where a freak like me could live and blend in was Venice Beach, my son and I lived in a cottage four blocks from the beach for two years. The kid calls the time “the endless summer” at first it was hell, the kid was like four and a half and wanted to go to the beach and play with all the hippy kids (children of Venice Beach residents) constantly, the ten minute walk would take like an hour, if I didn’t take a tumble. Being constantly forced to go to the beach was excellent therapy, within a year I could walk and use my left arm again and the kid and I both had ponytails.
The last year we lived in Venice Beach I had a wind chime stand on the boardwalk. every morning we would dig a giant hole with the help of every kid around in front of my stand, then when the tide came up every kid that came by would throw a fit if they couldn’t go help fight the tide (leaving their parents standing in front of my stand, to sell wind chimes to), after spending countless hours chasing the kid and his boogie board he learned to handle the ocean and surf well enough for me not to be a nervous wreck if I wasn’t in the water with him, countless hours of laying on the grass listening to the reggae music, our nightly pilgrimage to the end of the peer to watch the sunset.
Venice Beach good memories
