There were a bunch of guys with me and we were at a bar in Canada filled with red-neck Canadians. Agsten kept yelling and jumping on the table and Dave Goff kept falling back in his chair and stumbling all over because they had too much to drink. Everybody in the bar started staring at us and then a big Canadian plainclothes police man (wearing a flannel shirt and suspenders) came in the door, stared at us and talked to the manager of the place. The manager made an announcement that the place was closed so no one else could come in, but the people there could stay; all except the young kids making all the noise. Then people got up and started crowding around us and we were scared. They were going to beat the shit out of us.
THIS is a collection of Journals I kept, starting in 1972. I am adding entries here as I find the old journals and type them.
(Please Note: This is in "Blog" format, so to read journals in chronological order, start at the bottom, with the oldest post first, and read upward.)