George was one of Jonny Carsons best recurring guests ever. Half the time he was blown out drunk and swapping jokes with Dean Martin. Later in life George was a spokesman for Fox Photo. This was when people still bought film and had photos developed. There were "Photo Huts" in every parking lot. Even in the 70's, he kept his trademark 'flattop' hair, which is one reason Rick and I still laugh at the guy, he was just friggin' funny.
"C'mon get happy..." Well here it is in most of it's glory. Shirley Jones head got cut off but we were going for the photo of Susan. And for all you girls, David Cassidy. David in an interview seemed really grounded with his place in history when he said, "do you know how lame it is to be remember as the guy who made 'pucca shell' necklaces popular?" See, even David jokes about himself.
I just got finished watching 3 episodes of That 70's Show and relized something. Rick was Hyde and I was Eric. Rick was that kid who wasn't impressed with the social scene as the world saw it and I was home with a kookie mom and a dad who called us dumb-asses. But that was also a great time to be a teenager. Blow a doobie and the watch Barney Miller with dad. We laughed our ass off and dad wasn't sure why I thought the show was so funny. We cruised in the Buick stationwagon full of kids and just jammed out to the tunes. Blane and I had moms hand-me-down wagon and it was great. "hangin' out, down the street, same 'ol thing, we did last week" was our mantra. It was a simpler time with simple pleasures. A quart of Olympia beer and some weed, we had it made.
So, this page is a continuation of the previous Page Image. We were writing down WHY we were going on the trip. It starts out, kind of serious sounding:"I know the town. Jesus. What am I saying. Rick doesn't know it yet, but I don't think I'm even going to have the cash funds. Shit. Rick will be mad!"Then Martin adds:
"Don't Know."To which I now add. WTF! He's just read what Vance wrote and he writes "Don't Know"? Like he's still planning on going? Please.
May 6 [19]76 no chance for me (Rick) I have to go in order to report for the army! yup. I told them to send my papers to memphis. 6 days to leave.I'm not sure that date is quite right. Or the math. I entered the army on June 22nd, 1976. At some point here, I'll have to relate my trip to Memphis. The thing is that, despite the fact that the expedition failed, I did actually go there. I set foot on Memphis soil.
Date:? Rick has gone. a solom day in Turky town. Shit. Vance.On the next page, we have the green-penned reports from Vance regarding my absence. I'll comment on the overall meaning of this after all of the text is presented.
Date:? Rick ain't thrivin' on bootie camp. he even went a.w.o.l for three hours. has I recall, it was to get the roach clip I got him as a going away present!* Gezz! What a FRIEND. My very own Begal** Buddy! "Want to buy a cookie?"*For the longest time, i couldn't remember the curcumstancse of this AWOL incident, although it couldn't have been too severe, as I didn't get busted. Just today, I remembered it. The roach clip (The Star of David roach clip mentioned in an earlier post) was taken from me. it was on of those things where some guy wanted to see it, and then decided he was going to keep it and his was bigger than me.
Date:? It's been so long! Rick's fucked up on the army.So, what are the implications here? What are these two pages about? Fuckin' adulthood smacking the shit out of you, that's what. Here's the deal. When you graduate from high-school, you may not be mature, you may not be responsible, but you are a fucking adult and, like it or not, you've got to put on your big-boy underpants and get on with it.
I'm fucked up on life. And martin's fucking in his Pinto! I hope rick comes home from boot camp before school.
In honor of my Scottish heritage (that's my tartan above -- Clan MacFarlane) I'd like to present two of my favorite Scottish jokes.A bloke walks into a Glasgow library and says to the prim librarian,
I remember sometime around 1970, and Raquel appeared on the cover of TV Guide. My cousin was down visiting for the weekend and we fawned over that cover as though the Blessed Virgin had appeared. "It's real slow, just mostly street people are out," said Rick Raab-Faber, a Taxi-driver who was hoping to find some business at the airport. "It's boring. I feel like falling asleep." ~ Albuquerque Journal Article
"Damn that Rick! He knows he's not supposed to be sleeping in the cabs!" ~ Albuquerque Cab. Co. Owner, Baheej Hindi, after reading the above-mentioned article
The little woman is on the way to work right now so we can go see my lawyer. Court is on Friday the 13th, what luck. Anyway, all should go well, but if you don't hear from me for a while, well .... My sister-in-law says I'll be fine because of my gift of gab and the ability to adapt. We'll see.
OK, I'll take the heat for this one but I can't help it! Kristy McNipple was too cute. She was the total 70's teen. Maybe a little too goodie-two-shoes but I saw "Blue moon Junction"....I can still see her in cowboy boots with no top on. As Garth and Wayne would say, "shhwing!"
(You know what I'm talking about, Vance! Come On Get Happyyyyyy!) For you youngsters, The Partridge Family was a TV show about a widowed woman who tries to make ends meet by having her children form a band. They dressed in maroon velvet and white lace and traveled around the country in a crazily painted school-bus. Laurie "played" keyboards, "sang," and whacked the tambourine. The show was loosely based on the real life family band, The Cowsills. 
Check out this site at www.farrahfawcett.us to find some fascinating facts on the cultural status of this poster. In other posts, Vance and I have talked about fashions of the 70s. "Farah Fawcett Hair" was huge! I have to wonder if it was the hair that had us creaming our jeans... or was it the nipplage? Or was it that we knew that if the girl was wearing her hair like this, the nipples weren't far behind?
Performed by National Lampoon on "National Lampoon Radio Dinner," a 1972 recording by Blue Thumb Records. Lyrics by Tony Hendra.
Another full moon rises over the east coast and I am told of my fathers passing by my mother who is in Arizona tonight. My father, she tells, me passed in 2005 and I was not aware if this information. The man pictured above was my step-father, Tom Deniston, an officer and a gentelman. He passed away last year and I went to the funeral in Santa Fe. But my 'real' dad was not present for the last 45 or so years of my life and now I find out that he is in fact gone. I've wondered about this for the last ten years or so. I hated my dad for being such a dick to my mom and my brothers my whole life. But I was older than my brothers and had actually spent time with dad and grandpa back in the day. Rolling out of Lincoln, Nebraska with a cooler full of beer and a trunk full of loaded shotguns for a weekend ride in the country. I was maybe 5 years old then and this seemed to be the high life. I couldn't wait to get in the 'ol Thunderbird on Saturday and head out. I would hand daddy and grandpa the can opener for their beers and we would roll down country roads for miles on end with the dust flying. In those days I spent every Friday or Saturday night with grandpa and he would let me stay up to watch Gunsmoke on TV. The weekend would start with a haircut at Walt's barber shop and then dinner at Kings diner. Sometimes, on saturday, dad would show up and it was like something special. See, dad was usually in jail on the weekends, thats how they did it back then. You could work all week but then you had to go to jail to pay off the debt you owed society on the weekends. We would ride for several miles and then we would come upon a covey of pheasent and the car would slow to the side of the road. Dad would tell me to hold his beer while he got the gun from the trunk. Blam....blam, blam. "Go get 'em boy", he'd say and I ran like the devil to get the kill. I was so proud to be part of this weekend ritual, dad and grandpa stone blind drunk and me fetchin' pheasant. In a blur everything changed and dad was gone for good. At 6 years old I was the man of the house and it wasn't good. My brothers would ask me for breakfast and I would pour out Puffed Wheat. They would say, "where's the milk?' I'd say, "don't wake up mom and just eat it." I hated those days and I cussed dad for putting me in that position to be the father. I had no skills at 6 years old but I did my best. When my mom meet Tom and he married her, I was relieved. I handed over the responsibility to him and he took it with pride. He adopted us three boys and gave us his name. The rest is history as they say, but I was so happy to be relieved of the burden. I met my 'real' dad years later in Denver and he didn't do any better then. I was with my friend Mishal and he scared the hell out of her by screaming at the top of his lungs at his then wife for no reason after a day trip to Boulder. Thanks dad. Now, today I know he is gone, and I could say that I don't care. But, that would be a lie, I do care, and I don't know why. Good bye Jim, you bastard. Thanks for nothing.
I dug Tanya Tucker for some reason, maybe because she actually sang at the Caravan in Albuquerque when she was still a teenager. Liked her gruff voice and satin pants. She lived, worked and played hard, I have those same demons myself. Hey, I think she just might have been fun to party with. But no, she had to hookup with dick nose http://www.glencampbellshow.com/ and we all know how well that turned out. Anyway, when all is said and done, it was just a fantasy.
Joan Jett was one of my celebrity girlfriends back in the 80s (before people really had a concept of "celebrity girl or boyfriends." I mean look at her! She's a bad girl.... the kind you don't take home to mother. She super-freakayyyyy. 
