door, and said, "I have Alan Ginsberg with me, and
... may we come in to visit?" Thatwinter I was living at the foot of University Avenue, on a 30 foot-long steel hull lifeboat that had oncebelonged to a Seattle Ferry. I had built a wooden cabin on it, and put in a woodstove and a bed, andit was moored on the Lake Union Ship Canal along with other tenants a little more well-to-do than Iwas. Alan and Peter were returning from Alaska. I have to admit the visit was less than it might havebeen (Alan promptly went to sleep for some hours). Not long after this, as winter gave way to spring and summer, I thumbed rides to get to SanFrancisco, and made my way into the Haight-Ashbury District. Arriving there broke and homeless, Ifirst had to solve how and where I should live. I wandered east on Haight street, until I came to andentered into a Zen-Macrobiotic restaurant, called the "Here and Now." I made my way back to thecounter, feeling more than just a little hungry, and met Allen Noonan, who (I discovered) operatedmore than just the restaurant.Go halfway down this page to see a photo of
(a.k.a. Allen Michael) hanging up the sign, whenhe opened the restaurant (a historic photo) -- to appreciate Allen,this is a must-read Meeting with Allen, I learned that a pretty good life for a hippy was only a couple blocks south, downthe street, at the One World Family Commune. I could hang my hat there and get meals at therestaurant, for agreeing to work a few hours each week at the restaurant. Such a deal!
The New World Order Scam
The One World Family Commune
Christians, be encouraged, we'll get back to you soon enough...and meanwhile, there's much groundwork to cover
So, down the street and up the stairs I went. It was one of those big, San Francisco row houses,packed with many new friends. Entering into the kitchen, I started to get to know some of the folksthere, and I caught a whiff of the giant pot of stew cooking on the stove. Allen's son had just returnedfrom an expedition to Arizona, to pick peyote cacti, and he had brought back a big gunny sack of them. I arrived just in time for the tea. For my readers who are not following, at this point, peyotecontains a hallucinogen, called mescaline, that is kind of like LSD, only different... it is its ownspecial thing. The commune had its own jazz band, and more than acid rock even, at that time, jazz was mymusic. How well I remember those days, as time drifted off into the autumn of the year -- the daysbecame more crisp, and in the mornings, the fog that had rolled in from the ocean slowly gave wayto the sunshine. Friday nights were very special, since the band performed, and we all got wiped outon acid. So many times we went out back into the alley, to smoke pot, and I recall so well the echoof the jazz blending into the fog of the night, out back in the alley. Oh that world was strange wayback then. Other evenings we went to the Fillmore Auditorium -- the Dead, the Airplane... all the great acid rockbands of that time. The driving force for my whole existence was the quest. Nothing mattered more than fusion withGod, Samaddhi, the journey into Dharma, the way into the philosophic rapture of the Universe. AndLSD was the means by which this was done.