Jake owned the Blue Book where Oakland’s Mafia hung out. Vic was in with the Mexican Mafia and smuggled his Mexican wife across the border in a marijuana shipment. My father wore a black patch over one eye, and was impressed when I told him I took the Mafia to court – and won – after they tried to kill me, and get rid of the Black Muslim cult that had taken over this building on Beacon Hill – and adopted me – after they wanted to kill me because they thought I was a Witch – after I saved the life of Osiris, their co-ruling deity.
Then there was the one armed Marine who chased me through the streets of downtown Oakland, into a Vietnamese Rock and Roll club, because he thought I called his girlfriend a whore. She was a whore, but I said no such thing. And on and on and on this contest went, until I got sober twenty four years ago!
At aunt Linda’s house, everyone but Tyler and I had a drinkee-poo. I asked Heather if Linda had any photos of her when she was young. She handed me two large albums where on every page smartly dressed Republican swells were posing with their drinks and Rolex watches. Twenty minutes later;
“Heather, I couldn’t find you in these albums.”
My daughter came over picked up one book, pointed to a page, then pointed herself out in the other – in the crowd. Then, she proudly walked away, alas she giving me a clue as to the kind of Dad she always dreamed of, a Party Cocktail Dad, with a Martini in one hand and a little weenie skewered on at toothpick in the other – surrounded by folks with money, where, every day is one big Happy Hour. Instead, she got this looser Dad, a writer on a inner journey of some kind. What a bummer and party-poop!
Then there was the time I walked into the Alameda Police station after my favorite bar closed. It was pouring rain. I was wearing a long black cape with riding boots. I think I was wearing my leather headband. I offered to help the police take a real bite out of crime, because criminals are on a self-sustaining shame-based prophecy that can be tweaked by the Grand Tweaker. I finished my lecture behind bars, after these cops did not know what to do! Had Charlie come to blow them away?
My favorite bar was a Navy bar, full of guys who had been, and were going back, to Vietnam. They loved me, the long haired hippie who loved them, and drank with them, and told them how it was.
“I’m the loud mouth SOB you guys are dying for so I can own the freedom to say what I damn well please. I am your reward!”
Then there were those two Russian sailors off a Soviet cruiser……and the group of gays and lesbians in Berkeley who were marrying Russian heterosexuals in order to get them out of the oppressive Soviet Union.
I didn’t have a dime to my name, but, I’ve known some extremely beautiful women. This is why I am far more interesting then then that make-believe dude on T.V. He had to pay for his women.
Sure I was the most the most interesting man in the world before I retired – and I have yet to leave the United States!
I made up this quote for MIM:
“He is so lucky, that his Ferrari blew a tire on his way to visit his friend, Sharon Tate.”
Jon Presco
Copyrght 2012
If he were to pat you on the back, you would list it on your resume.
Both sides of his pillow are cool.
When in Rome, they do as he does.
His words carry weight that would break a less interesting mans jaw.
He’s won trophies for his game face alone.
He bowls… Overhand.
New 2010:
“He is the life of parties he has never attended”
“If he were to punch you in the face, you’d have to fight off the urge to thank him.”
“Sharks Have a week dedicated to him.”
Classics
– Police often question him, just because they find him interesting.
– His beard alone has experienced more than a lesser mans body.
– His blood smells like cologne.
– He has amassed an amazingly large DVD collection, and has never once alphabetised it.
– If he were to mail a letter without postage, it would still get there.
– The pheromones he secretes effect people miles away… in a slight, but measurable way.
– He once punched a magician. That’s right, you heard me.
– His hands feel like rich, brown swede.
– He lived in the hills of the Serengeti for a summer after being gifted a wife by a local tribes men.
– He owns 4 sports cars, and rents 5.
– He taught a horse to read his email for him.
– He almost broke the land speed record in 1977, popular opinion among his team was that is beard caused to much wind resistance. He would have shaved it… No, no he wouldn’t have.
– He was the featured man at a bachelorette auction he brought in over 13 million euro, under the table.
– His personality is so magnetic, he is unable to carry credit cards.
– Even his enemy’s list him as there emergency contact.
– He never say’s anything taste like chicken… Not even chicken.
– He speeks fluent French, in Russian.
– His charm is so contagious, vaccines we’re created for it.
– Years ago, he created a city out of blocks. Today over 600,000 people live and work there.
– He is the only person to ever ace a Rorschach Test.
– Every time he goes for a swim. Dolphins appear.
– Alien abductors have asked him, to probe them.
– If he we’re to give you directions… You would never get lost. And you’d arive at least 5 minutes early.
– His legend precedes him, the way lightning precedes thunder.
– His reputation is expanding, faster then the universe.
– He once had an akward moment, just to see how it feels.
– He lives vicariously throug himself.
– It is never too early to start beefing up your obituary (thanks bruce)
– He’s been known to cure narcolepsy just by walking into a room.
– He’s a lover… Not a fighter, but he’s also a fighter, so Don’t get any ideas.
Rosamond Press 
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