Open Thread - 11-19-21 - Misspent Youth

Definition of misspent youth (according to Miriam Webster): the time when one is young and doing things that are not considered wise or proper.

The year was 1971. I was 17 years old, hair down to the middle of my back, knapsack and pup tent on my back, thumb in the air, footloose and fancy free. Traveling alone as I usually did back then, I was on my way to Clearwater, Florida to visit an aunt and uncle for no particular reason other than another highway adventure. I had left Memphis early on a hot southern summer morning, the weight I was carrying made the sun that more intense. The sweat was dripping in the morning sun.

I couldn't catch a ride where I was left off so I decided to do what I did a lot back then when I was hitchhiking, I walked, my back to the oncoming interstate traffic, left arm held out with thumb upraised. There's no feeling in the world like hitting the open highway with no particular place to go, pure wanderlust, but this time I had a destination. I had never been to Florida and was looking forward to the beautiful beaches I had heard about in the Clearwater/Tampa-St. Pete area. But first I had to traverse Mississippi and Alabama, deep in the south, with the ending of the movie, Easy Rider, always in the back of my mind. But I was young and immortal.

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As I walked eastward, thumb in air, looking over my shoulder I saw an old 50's model car slow down and pulled over ahead of me. Yahoo, a ride! I ran up to the car, opened the door to greet the driver. As I told him how glad I was that he pulled over to pick me up I looked down at the seat and next to the driver, on his right, was a shiny pistol. Well, I wanted to get out of the heat and rides can be scarce when traveling through the deep south, so gun notwithstanding, I jumped in the passenger side. The gun laid silently between myself and the fellow who picked me up.

The driver was like a throwback to the fifties. He was the stereotypical greaser. Hair gassed back in a ducktail adorned with probably half a tube of Brylcream. A pack of cigarettes rolled up in his white tee shirt sleeve. Dirty blue jeans, black combat boots and a toothpick in his mouth. He appeared to be in his late 20s or early 30s and with a thick southern drawl asked me where I was headed. I said "Florida" as I settled in to what was one of the more memorable rides of my young hitch hiking misadventures.

I had never caught a ride with a greaser with a gun on the seat before so this was all new territory for me. The gun just sat there, I didn't mention it nor did he, but I surely had some rapid thoughts about it as I constantly looked at it from the corner of my eye. Why was that gun there? Did he plan on using it on me? Is it loaded? Should I grab it and point it at him before he did the same to me? Is this guy a crazed killer? A criminal on the lamb? WTF, who carries a gun right next to him on the front seat? How the hell do I handle this? I decided to play it cool, act like it wasn't even there and to bullshit my way out of this one. What else could I do. He could have easily shot me and ditched my body somewhere and who would have known?

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He started telling me of all the crimes he had previously pulled off and how good he was at avoiding the cops as he asked me to grab a beer for him in the cooler he had in the backseat. He told me to grab one for myself and by golly I did. I had since decided to humor this obvious criminal and put myself on his level, agreeing with his "fuck the law" attitude and acting like I was really interested in the twisted tales he told me. What else could I do. I had no idea where he was going to, all I knew was I was headed in the right direction to get to Florida. The gun just sat there.

He picked me up somewhere in Mississippi and I rode with him for a couple hundred miles or so into Alabama when he finally told me, after several hours, that he had reached his turn off. By that time I had a few beers in me which in that heat tasted pretty good and helped assuage my apprehension, but that gun still sat there. I guess he figured that I was alright since he pulled over and let me out, finally. We laughed about some bullshit as I gathered up my gear and got out, my eyes ever glancing at the pistol. By then I pretty much knew why it was there. I didn't really care, I just wanted to get to Florida and the beautiful beaches.

I hoisted the knapsack onto my back as I watched him drive off into the distance. After he got out of sight I fell down to my knees and heaved a huge sigh of relieve. "Man, what a trip that was", I thought as I picked myself up and started walking again, thumb extended. For I was 17 and immortal.

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This is an open thread so talk about whatever floats your boat. Any comments about covid 19 should be directed to The Dose. Thanks for reading.

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would I hitch around the country nowadays like I did back then? Hell no, it's too dangerous. I had several close calls back in the day, I wouldn't even think of it in this day and age, too many predators out there.

But man, did I learn about life. I wouldn't trade that for anything.

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enhydra lutris's picture

"open thread" tag is misspelled.

be well and have a good one

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That, in its essence, is fascism--ownership of government by an individual, by a group, or by any other controlling private power. -- Franklin D. Roosevelt --

@enhydra lutris
I'll attribute that faux pas on my misspent youth as well. Too much fun doncha' know.

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Hitching in the 70's was a good way to get around. Especially with little cash and vague ideas of a destination. Had my share of creeps doing odd things, but many more good souls helping to further whatever adventure. Learned a lot about strangers and saw vast swaths of the US.

Walking out of the comfortable, into an insecure panorama tended to keep one's wits sharp.
Looking back, it's amazing the things I learned and experienced. Too many to delineate here.
I still pick up hitchers. Mostly people like I was way back then, very appreciative.
Thanks for the OT!

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@QMS @QMS
There is no other feeling like hitting the open road with nowhere in particular to go. Just go! One would have to experience it to understand it.

I have many stories, that's just one that stands out.

Thanks man.

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and my wanderlust had me covering 11,000 miles in 32 days on a BMWR60US, across southern Canada to Victoria island, down the Pacific coast to SF, Yosemite, LA, Grand Canyon, Canyonlands, Yellowstone, Denver and a marathon ride to my New England home. I figured I might not have another chance in my lifetime for such an adventure, so I rode solo, even though the original plan was a four rider group. The other three found other pressing matters to attend to. I doubt any of them ever found the time for a second chance.

There is an intensity in solo travel that has left me with many memories from that trip. I thought about a reprise ride some fifty years later, but one of the thoughts that put that idea to rest was the possibility that I would replace my still vivid memories of all the places I visited in ‘70 with the current versions. There were no double decker tour busses pounding the pavement in Yosemite in 1970 and I liked it very much as I found it way back when….

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Capitalism is the extraordinary belief that the nastiest of men for the nastiest of motives will somehow work for the benefit of all."
- John Maynard Keynes

@ovals49
ah, youthful exuberance. Precious memories my friend. It reminds me of an old saying and I don't even know who to attribute it to:

"When a man dies, a library dies with him".

Thanks, fellow traveler.

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@ovals49

Was always my fantasy ride.

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Once I graduated from hitchiking to riding freights, I eventually made enough dough working the boats to get a cycle. The big cross country horse was a 750 Triumph Trident. Took her around the 4 corners several times (FL, CA, WA, ME).

triumph-trident-750-9.jpg

I like your itinerary. Sounds liberating and memorable.
Thanks!

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CB's picture

I rebuilt an old beater in the early 60's when I was fifteen so the day I turned 16 I did my test and had my license. I never did hitchhike (unless the beater ran out of gas or a half bald tire got a puncture).

But I did pick up a lot of hitchhikers. Each one had a story. Even those that didn't talk at all - you end making up a story for them if the trip is long. I picked up a cute young chick in shorts and a halter top one summer (what else could I do - I was a hormonal 18 yr. old).

When she settled in I asked where she was going. She said the far side of the city so I told her that I could only drive her halfway there because I had to go to work. She looked at me intently then said if I didn't drive her where she wanted to go she would report me to the cops and say that I had tried to rape her. I realized then that the hot chick I had picked up was a hooker and my lustful hopes were dashed.

By this time we were not too far from the city centre so I made a turn and stopped in front of the police station and said "Here you go. You can make your report here." She glared at me and got out and slammed the door and stomped down the street.

You sure stirred up a load of memories, JtC. When I think back, all our lives are filled with events, sometimes small, sometimes great. But each serves in some mysterious way to inadvertently and unpredictably make us into the person that we eventually become.

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@CB
I had a really hot hippie chick pick me up in Arkansas one day in a hippie van, and well, I'll leave the happy ending to your imagination.

This is great and oh so true:

When I think back, all our lives are filled with events, sometimes small, sometimes great. But each serves in some mysterious way to inadvertently and unpredictably make us into the person that we eventually become.

Thanks for stopping by.

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CB's picture

@JtC
And a couple of happier beginnings.

I'm wondering if the situations that us old codgers experienced in the 60's and 70's are repeated by the young'uns today? My son also hit the road at my age and did a fair bit of travelling for about 5 years before he settled down and made himself a career.

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JekyllnHyde's picture

@JtC

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A riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma

@JekyllnHyde
it's a pretty sure thing no hippie chick is going to pull over for him! It's predators like him that keep me from hitch-hiking nowadays, yuk yuk!

I live in east Texas now, we have lots of those critters around here, in ponds, lakes and rivers. Big ones too! There was a 14 and a half footer photographed crossing a highway a couple of years ago. I don't think he was hitch-hiking though.

Thanks for stopping by, old friend.

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Lookout's picture

it is pattern like...Sometimes regular rides, other times spells of walking. Sometimes you're picked up in a VW van and smoke pot, other rides more conservative and restrained...caught one ride with an undercover cop in Chattanooga once.

Those were the days and fond memories, my friend! I was full of hope our generation was gonna bring real change. But in the words of john prine...all my friends became insurance salesmen.

I've been shoveling horseshit all morning. Good thing the shovel has a heater cause it was chilly. Nice to have the garden put to sleep for winter....other than the three beds with winter crops. Lettuce did fine undercover in 30 degrees last night. Got 20's coming next week. Still have to get one more load of manure for the fruit trees, bushes, and vines. Always something you know. Anyway progress ... like the rhythm of the road with starts and stops.

Have a good one, and thanks for the OT!

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“Until justice rolls down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.”

@Lookout
It takes experience to know this:

There's a rhythm to riding your thumb...

it is pattern like...Sometimes regular rides, other times spells of walking. Sometimes you're picked up in a VW van and smoke pot, other rides more conservative and restrained...caught one ride with an undercover cop in Chattanooga once.

You've been down that road before.

I love the smell of horse shit in the morning. It smells like victory. And Charlie don't surf.

Have a good one, old buddy.

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enhydra lutris's picture

memories for pretty much anybody who did it, I suspect. Lots of hum-drum boring rides, or hours stranded without any, and then the interesting, exciting or life changing ones.

Thanks for triggering that batch of memories and associations.

be well and have a good one

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That, in its essence, is fascism--ownership of government by an individual, by a group, or by any other controlling private power. -- Franklin D. Roosevelt --

@enhydra lutris
and I loved it. It was a right of passage for many in our generation. I learned mucho about the real world.

I stopped traveling like that after I realized that I was searching for something and that something was me. I then understood that home is where you make. Find a place that you like and make a stand.

Have a good one right back atcha', amigo.

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dystopian's picture

@enhydra lutris off topic: Hey EL, you asked the other day about ashawaganda... sent a message... anyway, it cures gout. eom.

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We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.
Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.
both - Albert Einstein

enhydra lutris's picture

@dystopian

be well and have a good one

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That, in its essence, is fascism--ownership of government by an individual, by a group, or by any other controlling private power. -- Franklin D. Roosevelt --

She was on some captivated ranch fighting off the invaders
and for some odd reason, she was portrayed as having
extra large thumbs.
Even Cowgirls Get the Blues
talk about hitchhikers ..

[video:https://youtu.be/imbA6Nkb8e8]

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@QMS
I'll have to look for it.

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A very strange way to see the universe.
Sure beats back roads and interstates tho

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@QMS
Like Dave traveling through space in his pod in 2001: A Space Odyssey.

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@JtC

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Californication

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zed2's picture

It must really suck to be in places like that on your own while black. Not being black I hesitate to even guess how complicated just staying alive must get in big parts of the country.. We trivialize it sometimes, but we shouldnt. We as a country need to get beyond racism. People are actually trying to make it worse. To divide and weaken us all.We saw that in the last two elections. We cant let them do that. We could do so much better than we are now. (at taking advantage of our strengths.)

People are trying to divide and conquer us. They are already banking on it. Literally. They feel they cant lose. They have a deal.

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zed2's picture

@QMS @JtC

Syzygy

that is a classic example of non digital film graphics mastery. It was done with special optics and film based technology exclusively.

I have often wondered if it could be simulated, perhaps using a program like Blender.

The music is by Ligeti, I think.

The low frequency sound indeed does sound like a rocket engine (being tested or from the spacecraft's crew) as there is no Doppler shift or fading that I hear. As one would while standing on the ground at, say a launch..

Kubrick really was the master of fine detail.

I have had long discussions about this scene with my friend who is a computer graphics expert. And our consensus was that it would be next to impossible to do something this beautiful with the best computers available at that time. He was part of a touring group that showed off the best graphics computers doing art. They would perform at events like SIGGRAPH, a conference for computer graphics geeks.

I myself used to be a light show artist. (non computer, but have a good knowledge of photography. )

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@zed2
thanks zed.

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dystopian's picture

Hey JtC, and all,

What a great time it was to grow up then. Times were tough for me, but it was fantastic times. About '75 a guy asked me how I was going to get to work, I said, thumb. He said OK, yer hired. My wife and her girlfriend used to thumb around Torrance/Redondo Bch. area in socal as teens in mid-70's. Times has changed.

Some have the wanderlust bug, and I guess some don't. I spent much of a decade traveling the country but it was later, at 25-35 yrs. old in a suit and tie, as a traveling salesman. You may have heard a joke or two... Probably half was with my wife, and half solo, 30+ states, a few hundred thousand miles, camping and birding on weekends. Need to see a Kirtland's Warbler? Road trip to upper central lower peninsula of Michigan in June. And so on. Sold high end outdoor internally lighted signs to businesses.

Why can't all of life's problems happen when you are 17 and know it all?

I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now.

I don't know why they waste youth on the young.

Gotta get back to work here...

Thanks everyone for all the great stories, y'all are awesome!

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We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.
Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.
both - Albert Einstein

@dystopian
thanks for dropping in, my man.

Yeah, the late 60s-early 70s were the worst of times and the best of times. I certainly tried to make the best of it, with a little help from my friends of course, if you catch my drift.

You got to see much of the country, good for you my brother.

Most of them pesty know it all yutes grew up to realize that in reality they know very little. The ones that never reached that realization became politicians, our, ahem, so called betters.

Don't work too hard, amigo!

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mimi's picture

havhing had too few freedoms in my youth.

How different life stories can be. Amazing to read them here. Thanks.

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@mimi
things were much different back then, especially in the 60s. Kids nowadays have no idea.

We look back on that time as the good old days. How in the world will the youth of today be able to look back at this era we're living in right now and call it the good old days. It's very sad, really.

Thanks for stopping by.

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CB's picture

@mimi
[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vc3brBVgSzY]

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mimi's picture

@CB
'going back' is located. If you live going back and forth, you loose orientation, where the back and where the front is. Thnks for the song. I needed the lyrics.

Got to Go Back
Van Morrison
When I was a young boy
Back in Orangefield
I used to gaze out
My classroom window and dream
And then go home and listen to Ray sing
"I believe to my soul" after school,
Oh that love that was within me
You know it carried me through
Well it lifted me up and it filled me
Meditation contemplation too
Oh we've got to go back
Got to go back
Got to go back
Got to go back
For the healing, go on with the dreaming
Well there's people in the street
And the summer's almost here
We've got to go outside in the fresh air
And breathe while it's still clear
Breathe it in all the way down
To your stomach too
And breathe it out with a radiance
Into the night time air
Oh we've got to go back
Got to go back
Got to go back
Got to go back
For the healing, go on with the dreaming
Got my ticket at the airport
Well I guess I've been marking time
I've been living in another country
That operates along entirely different lines
Keep me away from porter or whiskey
Don't play anything sentimental it'll make me cry
I've got to go back my friend
Is there really any need to ask why
With the dreaming
With the dreaming
With the dreaming
Source: LyricFind
Songwriters: Van Morrison
Got to Go Back lyrics © BMG Rights Management

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Pricknick's picture

I was hopping freight trains between Jackson, Michigan, to all points east and west.
I was young (fourteen), stupid and bored to tears. I made it as far as Leroy, New York to the east and Chicago to the west. Got badly scared in Chicago and never went west again.
Some call it misspent. Others call it wasted.
I called it invigorating.
[video:https://youtu.be/eYNMcolpHEM]

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Regardless of the path in life I chose, I realize it's always forward, never straight.

@Pricknick
is exactly right.

I never hopped a train. Who knows with the economy faltering I may get the chance yet.

Hell, Chicago is still a scary place no matter what age.

Thanks nick.

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@Pricknick

to get to Jackson for a family reunion, think it was '75. Made it as far as Kankakee, and dead headed up to shy town on an empty commuter. Called a friend to pick me up. Slept that night in the Warren dunes. Hell of a ride. Met many far out hobos on that run ..

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Pricknick's picture

@QMS
The Gangster Disciples controlled not only the city but the rails.
I had noticed on prior rides that the hobos thinned out as you entered Gary, Indiana. Being young and dumb I didn't put 2 and 2 together. I almost starting asking them too late why they thinned. They told me it was because too many of their fellow travelers had been disappeared. Shortly thereafter I ran for my life on a railhead in downtown Gary.
I walked half of the 180 miles home. As on the cusp says......lucky.

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Regardless of the path in life I chose, I realize it's always forward, never straight.

dystopian's picture

This has to be on this thread...

Hey JtC, maybe that nice lady thought you were a sweet hitchhiker? Wink

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We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.
Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.
both - Albert Einstein

@dystopian
and, ummm, she wasn't so sweet after all. Biggrin

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When I was 11, I got a car.
When I got my driver's license at 14, I got another car, and we sold the other one to a neighbor.
I flew to New Orleans with my dance instructor at age 14, my first venture out of Texas. At 16, I entered university. I took courses all year long, no summer breaks.
Starting in 1976, I drove to all the states except Florida.
I started international travel in the 2010s.
Give me a week from work, I will find some place fun and interesting to visit.
I gotta do it now before I get so old, I can't hear the obnoxious and crazy GPS witch directing me down some dirt road with a 30 mph speed limit. She might be saving me 10 miles, but manages to add 30 minutes to drive time. The witch.
You crazy guys hitch hiking and hopping trains are lucky in numerous ways.
My first cousin picked up a hitch hiker, a prostitute, and...well, he contracted AIDS, so did his wife, and it killed them both. Like I say, you guys were lucky!
Glad you are around with your memories, your education, and your offering the stories to the rest of us.

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"We'll know our disinformation program is complete when everything the American public believes is false." ---- William Casey, CIA Director, 1981

@on the cusp
your youth was not misspent, at all. Pretty impressive actually.

I know all about that GPS witch. The last trip I was on she had us going down a road that even a horse couldn't travel on. It did save about 5 minutes on the trip though, so there's that.

Glad you're around too, my dear.

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mimi's picture

@JtC
she directs me always in the wrong direction, but in the end I can't get home without her.

Try to drive in Germany without her and you end up ... well, I often asked myself if she is a witch or and angel. I still haven't made up my mind about that.Some days I thought that this GPS lady is the only thing I considered helpful finding my way around in Hamburg, Germany and enviornment.

Meanwhile I stop driving altogether.

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@on the cusp

sorta related to yours ..

Was hitching east and hustled a ride with a trucker at a truck stop in the middle of the night.
We were tooling along in the middle of Nowhere, Oklahoma and this girl was on the side of the hiway with her thumb out. The trucker braked the rig down to a stop and she climbed aboard. I had to crawl into the back. Boy was she skanky. The driver was a decent dude and asked where she was going. She said wherever. So he let her off at the next interchange. I really felt bad for the gal. She'd been used and abused way too much. Another lost soul.

The trip changed somewhere along the way. I thought I was headed to Florida, but Mr. Trucker somehow convinced me I should go back home. He got on his CB radio and flagged another rig in Indianapolis, which took me back to Jackson on his way to Detroit. Can't remember how long I lasted there, things were tough then.

This is the only time I have shared this story. Amazing how an open thread opens up memories.

Thanks!

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but my dr. freaked out.
This is what I missed:

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"We'll know our disinformation program is complete when everything the American public believes is false." ---- William Casey, CIA Director, 1981

CB's picture

Now I'm wasting time listening to the old tunes...

[video:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dwc7ZEYfWYc]

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@CB

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pswaterspirit's picture

Oh I don't know. Lots of serial killers running loose in the 70s I am not really sure it was safer but we didn't know that.

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@pswaterspirit

P-nut butter instead of bologna.

The best thing about serial boxes
were the prizes insides. Wink

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