On Route 66 With Mafia Max
Posted on February 17, 2015by Royal Rosamond Press
San Sebastian Avenue
I finally watched ‘The Irishman’ last night, and I was continuing the discussion I was having with my old friend, Danny Blake, who is Irish. He told me he knew Tim O’Connor when they were both in the
HOLY ORDER OF MANS
I met Tim on Glendon when he was fourteen. My sister Vicki threw a wild party. He followed me the thirteenth street house where I kived with the Loading Zone. Tim and Peter Shapiro became good friends. Tim and Mafia hit it off and they entered a Mafia bar in New York.
“Get behind me. There may be shooting. I got enemies in here!” says Max, who was in awe of me, as was this famous Acid Test band! Christine saud my eyes glowed in the dark. I avoided Max. I could see in his aura – he killed someone. I would play chess with him…
FOR KEITH’S LIFE
It is time to get an agent. With Trump’s illegal war on Drugs&Oil, our Presidzent is now The Boss of Bosses. Denmark and Canada are wondering it they are next…….
ON THE LISY
Danny and I made a list of the Dead&Dying, and we are still standing.
Holy Crap! I just found this post consider Bill Cornell wanting to throw me in the Grand Canyon! I’m going to contact Netflix.
I think I blew Danny Boy’s mind. I went home again after getting on a train to Eugene Oregon to get sober. I am more than Biblcial Scholar. When I worked at Yale Trucking they called me
THE CALIFORNIA KID
The forman tried to get me in the Teamsters. I was the toughest guy they ever saw. I was seventee, I was skinny, but, very stong. I was
SAMSON THE NAZARITE
Check out my sandals and white socks. This is 1964. Kennedy is till alive. We all heard of James Hoffa.
John The Nazarite
Actor Tim O’Connor Leaves The Planet
I just got an e-mail from Tim. He informs me his father passed away in April. He got married recently and his sent me a photo of he and his bride standing in front of a tug boat. He has been reaching out on the God-line. He is thrilled he has been heard by an old friend who he can match pictures with. There are four of US who still communicate……Tim, Peter, Chris, Jon.
Here is a list of Tim’s films. He was a serious actor, but had done a comedy, or two.
http://www.aveleyman.com/ActorCredit.aspx?ActorID=13023
The character Fenzwick interests me because I have used the name Fenwich several times. I am not famous. Perhaps I should seek fame? I lost my facebook friend, Ben Toney, in May. He was a pioneer of Pirate Radio. I get choked-up knowing his earth-voice no longer broadcasts. His magic wand, lie silent. I posted this on his facebook while he was dying. He was glad to hear what a friend thinks of him – before he is dead! Tim is another Gully Gimson. May he live long and prosper. Tim Sr. bought the Theanna in hope he could cross the Atlantic. The boatman will take us across to the Elysian Fields.
There is some synchronicity going on. My muse, Lara Roozemond. For a month I have been composing a chapter I will send out to the folks making the new James Bond movie. Then I see Tim standing with his new Dutch bride in front of a Tugboat belonging to Captain Martin.
We hippies talked about Our Great Movie that was never made. Pynchon should have never let ‘Inherent Vice’ be made without two real hippies on the set and in the editing room. Zabriskie Point was a huge BUST! Hippie Tim was a hippie actor with no CUT in his life. He is always ON. We were always on! TURN ON!
Lara’s video reminds me of two paintings I did when I was sixteen. I had a man going into a tunnel, then, waking towards a wall that filled my canvas. At the bottom stood my L.A. peers, WE accepting there is nowhere to go, nothing to see, no one – to be! Tim senior – was somebody in the strange scheme of things in La La Land. Lara wants to be a Dutch Actor. I love her poetry. La Ra! She is my Stel La! One felt they were living in a Greek play. There were gods and goddesses, like the one that battles a shark over her fish. Not quite the gloomy Hemmingway. The whole world focused on her during the 60s.
Scientists are concluding we are alone in the universe, alone with our god-conscience that is more supreme than we would like to imagine, that is, we are all God. The idea that God wants to ENTERTAIN YOU while you are here – is now the Supreme Mind Blower!
All my condolences to Tim who has nice things to say about my mother which is so helpful. She acted as a go-between when Tim ran away from home. He just got off “the rail”. He hops freight trains to get around.
The woman on the bridge is Suzy. Tim and Suzy lived in a house on Sherman Canal in Venice California for two years. Tim and Peter played at our wedding reception. Thomas Pynchon was married to my ex-wife, Mary Ann Tharaldsen. Tim graduated from canoe to sailboat on a Holland canal. I went with Tim when he played and sang on the Venice boardwalk – that became FAMOUS for its characters!
Tim knew them all. His father was a famous ‘Character Actor’ after Peyton Place. In many respects he was more removed from reality than his son. Literature and Art is more enduring. Mary Ann lived in an appartment in Manhattan Beach with Tom. (bottom pic). Tim is a writer who published ten books on the REAL Bohemian lifestyle that he got more than close to. Pynchon was an ‘Observer’ and space alien that let his reader peek out his closed curtain. They saw Tim standing there, singing his ‘I Hate Rubbers’ song. What kind of Fool is this? When they closed the curtain, and turned on their T.V. they saw Tim Senior. What kind of Fool is this? Tom was impressed! We may be ‘Illusion Makers’
Tim worked on the Great Wall, the Silver Screen. This mural stretches to the moon and back and is loaded with the most enduring images of all time.
Always leave them laughing. Tim and I have had some good laughs. Let us pray America never loses its sense of humor. God enjoys a character and a good laugh. We are taking the Fool’s Journey. This is it! On with the show!
Jon
http://www.hitchhikingpoet.com/
At the center of “Inherent Vice” is Doc Sportello, a low-key private investigator living in a dingy bachelor pad in Gordita, a beach community with Venice’s grit and Malibu’s surfers and hills. He has little affection for nonhippie flatlanders and a love of good weed. But Doc is more law and order than his indica might indicate: His occasional girlfriend is an assistant district attorney, and he’s got an enduring across-the-divide, almost-friendship with Bigfoot Bjornsen, an LAPD detective who does Cal Worthington-like TV spots on the side. It’s these straight-world connections that bring Doc’s ex-girlfriend Shasta Fay Hepworth to his doorstep asking for help.
Doc does true detective work — dressing up in disguises, following leads — yet he’s stoned most of the time and easily distracted. His world is full of Pynchonian weirdness: an ex-junkie sax player who has faked his own death and is living, unrecognized, with his band in Topanga Canyon; a surfer who ventures out too far to catch impossible waves; a lawyer fixated on the minutiae of “Gilligan’s Island” and other trash TV; and Mickey’s collection of pornographic ties, decorated with images of his lovers — although Shasta is conspicuously missing.
The recognizable actor from Chicago also appeared on ‘All in the Family,’ ‘Columbo,’ ‘Dynasty’ and ‘The Twilight Zone’ during his prolific career.
Tim O’Connor, the busy character actor who portrayed Elliot Carson, Mia Farrow’s father and Dorothy Malone’s husband, on more than 400 episodes of the 1960s ABC primetime soap Peyton Place, has died. He was 90.
O’Connor died April 5 at his home in Nevada City, California, The Union newspaper reported.
O’Connor also starred as Dr. Elias Huer on the 1979-81 NBC sci-fi series Buck Rogers in the 25th Century, starring Gil Gerard, and on a memorable 1975 episode of All in the Family, he guest-starred as a former sweetheart of Edith’s (Jean Stapleton) from Scranton, Pennsylvania, who’s interested in rekindling their childhood romance.
In The Naked Gun 2½: The Smell of Fear (1991), O’Connor had a super-brief stint as Fenzwick, “the head of the Society of Petroleum Industry Leaders, better known as S.P.I.L.,” and he was twice on Columbo, notably in 1973 as a family lawyer in “Double Shock,” in which Martin Landau played twins.
The lanky actor also starred as the captain of a ship hoping to rescue earthlings mired on a distant planet on the 1963 Twilight Zone episode “On Thursday We Leave for Home.”
Read More
Dorothy Malone, ‘Peyton Place’ Star and Oscar Winner, Dies at 92
Born on July 3, 1927, on the South Side of Chicago, O’Connor enrolled in a school to study radio acting and engineering. He quickly landed a scholarship at the renowned Goodman Theatre, then worked in local television.
In 1953, he came to New York and did several installments of prestigious DuPont Show of the Month for producer David Susskind, appearing alongside the likes of Jessica Tandy, Boris Karloff and Maureen O’Hara.
O’Connor joined Peyton Place three months into its first season as Elliot, who had been imprisoned for 18 years for murdering his wife (he was innocent, however; the real killer was Mary Anderson’s Catherine Peyton Harrington). Elliot then took over the town newspaper, but those days behind bars cast a shadow over him.
As an entry on the Classic TV blog notes: “O’Connor played Elliot as a sage, a man with a new lease on life and a reason to exude optimism, but during the show’s long run neither he nor the writers neglected the subterranean well of resentment that Elliot nursed over his lost years in prison. O’Connor’s flawless interweaving of these contradictory strands turned into perhaps the most satisfying exercise in character continuity on television during the ’60s.”
In its heyday, Peyton Place aired as many as three times a week, and O’Connor appeared on 416 episodes, according to IMDb, from 1965-68 until he and Malone were written off the show because, he said, the series was getting too expensive to make.
O’Connor also was on other series like The Fugitive, The Outer Limits, The Rockford Files, Maude, The Streets of San Francisco, Barnaby Jones, M*A*S*H, Gunsmoke, Wonder Woman, Dynasty, Doogie Howser, M.D. and Star Trek: The Next Generation.
More recently, O’Connor co-founded the Children’s Theater in Nevada City, served as a director for the town’s Foothill Theater Company and appeared with Buck Rogers co-star Erin Gray in Dreams Awake (2011).
He moved to Nevada City in 1982 with his second wife, Sheila. She survives him, as does his son, Timothy.
UPGRADE to a Healing Stage, and get out of the bedroom Mommy provided you, full of electrical gadgets to amuse yourself, and keep you out of Mommy’s Hair. I suspect Jake Fienberg was a Gizmo Kid. If he has never DROPPED, I can hook him up with Ginger Kuth who would be his…….Guide! When you make drugs and alcohol legal you take organized terrorists out of the picture. I escaped being murdered by a head of The Purple Gang – that was alive and well in 1964.
Oregon becomes the first state to decriminalize hard drugs like cocaine and heroin – CBS News
Rosemary told me her husband was a Made Man due to his grandfather inventing a way for the Mafia Bootleggers to keep getting barrels. Rosemary may have got her sons on a non-hit list because she made porno movies and was a high-class hooker for Big Bones Remmer who had gambling joints in Emeryville California. Jake and Ken claim Kesey started all the Rebellion against normal society. My father’s father was a professional gambler in Crockett and the Barbary Coast in SF. I’m sure drug-taking was common. There were opium dens.
When Keith charged our room at the Saint George Hotel, Mafia Max blew a gasket. This was his hotel, his safe place. This is a Mafia Hotel that I lived in in 1963 when I was seventeen. I believe Max did a background check on Keith and I. I believe he found me and my male linage on…..The List. This is why the hit on me in Boston could not come from the Mob. They gave these street creeps a bunch of methadone to do the job.
The Mafia was selling LSD on the East Coast. This is the story about how they got a lab. Melinda’s father offered me a job at one of his soft-porn movie houses in LA. I talked with her about taking that job, and, us getting married.
“No! These are very bad men! You will become one of them. They will make you one of them! I would be one of them!”
“You’re talking about your father – and your family! Jesus Christ. What are we going to do? What are you going to do?”
When I first beheld the second woman I loved dearly, she was dressed like Ann Frank. Frank was her last name. She was staring at me. I had to get closer to her because this incredible energy was radiating from her. Melinda was written up in TIME magazine for speaking sentences when she was six months old. I was in the presence of Brain Power that Rena radiated. Christine put bee-stung lips on this child we loved dearly. The loss of her devastated us. She disappeared. I am prepared to invent a Healing.
Three days ago I figured out what happened after Christine died, and why she is depicted in Snyder’s evil book of lives, as a out of control drunken airhead. Drunk Rosemary believed she owned her four children, and all our gifts – came from her! Our mother chose un-gifted Vicki to be the Heir in the Dark, the Mighty Mo behind these scenes – controlling THE ROSE FAMILY! Vicki never painted or wrote a poem. The family member who got left out – IS THE SOURCE! The firs pic you see is of a highly intelligent young woman, who did take LSD, and exuded a wondrous energy as Michael Dundon has testified to.
John ‘The Nazarite’
The Purple Gang (film) – Wikipedia
John Presco
Victor Hugo of the Barbary Coast | Rosamond Press
Bob Dylan – Stuck Inside of Mobile with the Memphis Blues Again (Audio) – YouTube
On Route 66 With Mafia Max
Posted on February 17, 2015by Royal Rosamond Press
When Mafia Max opened the door I could see he was impressed that I had the guts to try to save my friend. He had heard from Neil, one of the owners of the Saint George Hotel I was a stand-up guy. Here was the proof. Anyone else would have slunk away.
The Saint George Hotel on 13th. near Broadway was my first home away from home. It was Max’s favorite hotel, a fact we did not know until we ran into him in the lobby. From here I went to work at Yale Trucking in Hell’s Kitchen where the Teamsters gave me the moniker ‘The California Kid’. Max took Tim O’Conner into a Irish Mafia bar here, and told him to stand behind him because there might be gun play. There was turf warfare going down at this time.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Westies
I looked like a tough guy out of central casting. I was tough. I was a good fighter, but, I could not go out of my way to hurt someone. I was a poet and an artist on the inside, and, this is what made me a real badass. I could have had an good and easy life working for the Purple Gang, riding with the Hell’s Angels, or, hanging with Max. Ruthie the head cook at the Avenue O Jewish Center adopted me when I went to work there as a dishwasher. She put her four sons through art college. I think she realized I was part Jewish. I had it made! At seventeen I owned New York, and was loved in Brooklyn.
I could walk thru Hell’s Kitchen un-molested. Manpower sent me to work with a black man who was castrated in the South. We teamed up unloading trucks from midnight till eight in the morning. Then, I became one of the original hippies and took on the world in hope of making it a better place. At twenty years of age, I was dead for about ten minutes. But, it takes a lot to take out ‘The California Kid’.
In New York, millions rise from the dead because they go to go to work in the morning in order to pay for your rat cage. Outside my first room at the Saint George you could look down and see rats the size of cats. I had an old pay radio in my room. For 25 cents you got a half hour of music and news. This was my model for the Gideon Computer.
Above is a photo of me making icecream with my kindred a month after I came home. I feel, estranged, like a veteran of a foreign war. I got sandals on because I may have lived in Greenwhich Village. I dwelt in No Man’s Land, perhaps reserved for the First Hippie to be.
The Saint George was in the building with all the eyeballs. Across the way was the seamstress factory. Manpower was on Broadway past 4th. Street that Bob Dylan made famous. The tour bus is blocking Manpower. I believe the stationwagon Max drove was a Buick.
The Saint George………is gone! I see dead people atop that bus.
Jon Presco
Copyright 2015
O.K. I found some real juicy road trip stuff in my old posts. James Harkins was not along on this one. We are transporting what I believe to be a LSD lab across America, that the Mafia wanted on the East Coast. Tim O’Connor ‘The Hitch Hiking Poet’ slipped his biddy Max Mafia some LSD without telling him. Max wants to drive the whole way, because Killer Max is The Terminator before that movie came out. Max was on a mission from God! He was going to chill out New York, for starters.
Tim told me later Max took him into a Mafia bar in Hell’s Kitchen, and told him to keep behind him lest there is gun-play. Tim told me there were guys in that bar really afraid of Max, they thinking he is a real psycho. Now, he is coming on to LSD in the same Mountain range Rena and I would ascend three years later.
Fasten your seatbelts folks! This is the real deal!
Jon
Playing Chess for People’s Lives
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Sat Oct 28, 2006 6:23 pm |
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Playing Chess for People’s Lives
Part One
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Seventh_Seal
“For this reason, the Bardo Thodol, the Tibetan book vouchsafing
liberation from the intermediate state between life and re-birth,-
which state men call death,- has been couched in symbolical
language. It is a book which is sealed with the seven seals of
silence,- not because its knowledge would be misunderstood, and,
therefore, would tend to mislead and harm those who are unfitted to
receive it. But the time has come to break the seals of silence; for
the human race has come to the juncture where it must decide whether
to be content with the subjugation of the material world, or to
strive after the conquest of the spiritual world, by subjugating
selfish desires and transcending self-imposed limitations.”
It was probably not a good idea to give Max a goodly dose of LSD
just before we got into the station wagon and began our journey back
East, Max insisting he do most of the driving. It was Tim O’Conner
who dosed him, and before you know it, Max is in the foothills of
the Sierras pulling the car quickly to the side of the road and
shouting;
“Everyone out of the car – EARTHQUAKE!”
It was about 3:00 A.M. and bit nippy as the five of us stood
shivering under the brilliant Milky Way, we patiently waiting for
Max to get his land legs. Keith let me know what Tim had done. We
had 2,700 miles to go, and I rated our chances of survivor at 6.8 on
the Rictor Ape-shit Scale. Suddenly I had a vision. I saw the
bleached bones of five hippies down at the bottom of a steep ravine,
perhaps Max swerving to hard to the right to avoid a Big Foot, or an
alien ship or being. And there would we be for eternity, carpenter
ants making a home in our boots, and birds pulling out more of our
long hair to make a new season’s nest. We were the brothers from
another planet. We were what was strange, and dangerous.
Max was born and bred in New York and was right out central casting.
He had a widow’s peek, and thick Italian hair. His pencil thin
mustache gave him that dangerous look, and after he moved into the
house on Thirteenth Street with the Loading Zone, I was leery of
him, I getting a reading that he had killed someone, perhaps more
then two. He had a black beam in his eye, and I tried to avoid him.
But now and then we would pass in the hallway, I the dude with eyes
that glowed in the dark, I but four months back from the dead, and I
knew Max was fascinated with me, having heard some things. Perhaps
he heard my freak-out far surpassed Stanley Augustus Qwsley’s on
Muir Beach, he getting on the microphone and speaking of his dead
ancestors that were appearing before him – and boring Keny Kesey
half to death!
“I thought this freak was cool?”
Max had gotten this job driving this dudes station wagon to New
York, or so he said. It was loaded down with carefully packed boxes
in the back. I didn’t buy it, and wondered if we were on a drug run.
I didn’t want to go, but Keith said I could not stay because the
Loading Zone had evicted us from their lives, cut the clinger-ons
from their scene, now that they struck a record deal.
This was the end my friend. The Summer of Love and Endless
Freeloading, was over, for Max was a made man, a lower echelon
psychedelic Mafioso, a real Soprano, who was sold our Good Times
packed in those boxes in the back. Was it a lab? Keith told me James
met Max in New York when he was their making a big LSD sale.
Earthquake my ass.
We got back in the car after we calmed Max down, and I was positive
we were going to get busted before we got to the mighty Mississip,
and thus my life would end in a penitentiary. As it was, Keith, and
his girlfriend Chris Wandel, and I were getting out in Effingham
Illinois where Keith, his brother, Brian, and James `Fat Boy’ O’Hara
got busted for marijuana a year earlier when they pulled over to
report a grassfire, which was nothing but a field-burn. For two
months these California Hippies cooled ther heels, Fat Boy O’Haha
refusing to bath in a galvainized tub that the Sheriff’s wife
brought in once a day with a couple of kettles of hot water, and
placing them in the middle of the cell. A week later, Kieth and
Brian are buring old Bull Durham tobacco bags like incense to keep
at bay Fat Boy’s stench.
There was one more court date. The British Consulate was going to
there. Fat Boy had already arrived in this small town that bragged
in writing it was in the exact middle of America. When we entered
his room around seven that morning, he was watching a T.V. station
that televised a clock, a barometer, and a American flag, the camera
panning back and forth lest the viewer got bored with the inaction.
“Hey, check this out” said Fat Boy. “I’ve been watching this station
for hours. It’s pure Dada.”
“You don’t even know what Dada is, Fat-ass. It’s probably the only
thing on.” I said, breaking my long silence.
Fat Boy and I did not get along ever since he talked me into smoking
that dried mold he baked in the oven after soaking Scotch Broom in
some evil brew for a week. After I took a couple of tokes, the snot
rolled out of my nose for two days! Fat Boy on the other hand,
whipped out seven abstract water-colors, and five funny Haiku poems.
Twenty five years later, I and Fat Boy’s brother, would catch Keith
making a big batch of Bong Water Taffey. Everyone who knew Keith
testified he was never the same after Effingham, after he breathed
in the evil vapors of Fat Boy, that strangled up his mind.
“Oh – Momma!”
So we all surrendered to Max, let our collective energy flow into
Max, and now he was a god, a road god. He could do no wrong as he
floored it, the four hundred horse power engine sucking up fuel as
we pushed our way over the mountains, and come sunrise we flew past
Winnemucca, Killer Max really letting go the reins, our aura of
protection like the fireball of a blue comet. Max was carrying a
piece.
How Keith, Chris and I managed to get to New York will be told
later. Right now let us get to the chess game I played with Max for
Keith’s life.
Emerging from the Port Authority, Keith pulled out a piece of paper
that had the address of the hotel Max was staying at, and read it
aloud.
“You’re kidding me!” I exclaimed, my mind really blown now. “The
Saint George is Max’s favorite hotel? This is the hotel where you
and I lived three years ago.”
I knew the way there by heart, as I used to work in Hell’s Kitchen
at Yale Trucking when I was seventeen. When we entered the lobby I
was blown away to see that Nate still worked there. He remembered
me, and Keith. Max indeed was staying there, and Nate was asking me
if I wanted a room.
“Sure.” Keith piped in. Give us a cheap room – and put it on Max’s
tab.”
Nate caught me shooting Keith a look. We were flat-ass broke. But
because I had lived here for seven months, and always paid my bill,
Nate complied, he more then likely not buying Keith’s bullshit, that
this was what Max wanted, and leaves a message for Max telling him
what room we are in.
Later that evening, Max and his dolled up girlfriend, come knocking
at our door, and are asking us if we want to go to a party in the
Village with them. I declined. Chris had gotten on the bus for
Boston so she could visit her folks, and I was alone, perhaps for
the first time in three years.
About five in the morning, Keith came in from the party, and went to
bed. An hour later there is banging on the door. It was Max. When
Keith opened the door, Max burst in and got in Keith’s face with his
gun.
“Who in the fuck do you think you are charging this room to my
account?! Who gave you fucking permission! This is my hotel. No one
fucks with my hotel. I am known here. I get respect here. No one
fucks with my respect. You got that you _ _ _ _ _ ”
Keith tried to act like it was no big deal, and got back into bed.
“Don’t you fucken turn your back on me, you _ _ _ _ _ _ _ prick.”
There being no chairs, Max and his girl sat on Keith’s bed, and
after berating Keith for five minutes, he pulls out a pen and is
jabbing hard at his cheeks, all the time waving the 38 Special all
around Keith’s person as if trying to do some Voodoo with it,
somehow undo what this hippie freak had done, he fucking with some
traditional family honor, here, that Max had to uphold. But, first
he had to make Keith afraid, so he would understand, that you don’t
fuck with the Mafia, not their money, not their chicks, not their
hotels, and Max’s girl was now pleading with him to not hurt Keith,
and that’s when I got scared.
To be continued.
3) One of the mysteries is where all the “mafia LSD” in the Haight
andaround the country came from during and after ’67. Wasn’t there
myself,can’t tell you, but it was in sufficient quantity that it’s
odd no chemisthas yet to be connected with it, when Owsley, Scully,
Sand are all veryproud of their work….was it another Prague
connection???
http://www.maps.org/pipermail/maps_forum/2005-December/006951.html
The Seventh Seal (Swedish: Det sjunde inseglet) is a 1957 Swedish
film directed by Ingmar Bergman about the allegorical journey of a
medieval knight (Max von Sydow) across a plague-ridden landscape.
Its best-known scene features the knight playing chess with the
personification of Death, his life resting on the outcome of the
game. Bergman stated in an interview that the film had helped him
overcome his fear of death.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Seventh_Seal
Wittingstein and The California Kid
Here
Norbert And Mary Magdalene
Posted on August 27, 2021 by Royal Rosamond Press
- The Royal Janitor
All the older women in the top photo know about Royal Rosamond, who did not make enough money to support his wife’s four daughters, and her nephews who came to live with them in Ventura when Kelly murdered Eutrophia. Most knew I was an aspiring poet – and was a poet! For reasons they did not tell me I was – A GREAT DANGER TO THESES PEOPLE – that my mother kept Vic Presco’s four children, because my father – HATED HOLLYWOOD. Rosemary and aunt Lillian dated Errol Flynn, and her mother (far left) drove Errol and his best friend from her home when they came to serenade the Four Rosamond Damsels – at dawn! Rosemary drove me from our home on Glendon, and I hitchhiled to New York in 64, and lived in Greenwhich Village. I worled as a stevador at Yale Trucking where I was called…..The California Kid! And that was just perfect for these people, because they heard I was a gifted artist -too! Most of these people stuck theor foot out as I went down the isle – to my destiny – which is to author Detective Novels, and, new James Bond novels.
John Presco
Author: The Royal Janitor
Raymond Burr at Lucky Victors
Posted on December 18, 2024 by Royal Rosamond Press
My big break in Hollywood came when Kathy put me on the phone with Raymond Burr, who invited me to his home where he would cook dinner for me. I told him I would think about it. I was about to turn seventeen. I saw Arnold Palmer at Kathy’s, checking Marilyn out. She was fifteen and a half.
Rosamond Press 
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