1969, Riverside Missouri at a place called the Sockhop. I was 16 years old. The Chessman were preforming. I don’t remember if I went there with my best friend John or if we had dates. We might have went there just to watch the band. I would stand at the stage and watch the guitar player(s) every move, then many hours later when I was at home, try to emulate things like a hammer or pull off. In any case, back to the Sockhop.
During the breaks, many people would go outside, which was nothing more then a field with about 1 mile to the road. On a break that night, some one found a skull. I don’t know if it was just laying on the ground or if in a shallow type grave. Being kids, we took it inside, put it on a stick, put a cigarette in it’s mouth and had a good laugh.
However, to this day I can’t help but wonder who that skull belonged to and how it got there. I mean it’s kind of creepy. It was probably a murder. That happened quite a bit in old Missouri. You think California is a land of nuts and flakes, just try living in Missouri in the winter.
Strange, but the questions surrounding the skull didn’t start to bother me for many years. It’s not like I can’t live without the answer, but just something there in the back of my head from time to time. As I remember it was a beautiful night under the stars. Being young and dumb and full of C*U*M, we felt invincible.
I can’t even remember how we got there. In Johns old Corvair or my red 61 Chevy biscayne. What I do remember is that it was great to be young and feel so alive. I could run like the wind. What kind of music did they play you ask? The Beatles, of course.
Today, we listen to things that moved us in our youth and wonder how we could have been into such crap, but the fact remains, that we were!