Uncensored2008
Libertarian Radical
It sounds better to be born in Benbow than Stockton; nevertheless I was actually born in Stockton, California. I made up for this shortcoming by growing up mostly in Benbow. If I had not had the presence of mind to grow up in Benbow and had instead grown up in Stockton, I may have never developed into the man I am.
I don’t remember much of my childhood, actually I don’t remember much before last weekend. (Friday night was a total bash!)
My mother was Tulsy Sae, a truly great Stockton girl and the subject of much literature prior to this. While many might critique earlier literature about Tulsy Sae as being redundant and derivative, being that the majority of it started with “for a good time call,” I trust the reader will find this section on her to be a bit more fulfilling. (Though this is fully debatable.)
My father is Loof, which I always thought to be a Viking name. Loof Stunbmun wasn’t quite Leif Ericson, but it was close enough for me. Besides, Tulsy was never all that certain that Loof was my father anyway. No matter what the circumstances, soon after I was born at the Roseville flea market and auction, Tulsy and Loof hitchhiked up to Benbow in Humboldt County. Loof wanted to be a farmer and grow crops for people at both Humboldt State and my eventual alma mater, UC Berkley. The rumors were that there was lots of unpatrolled national forest available for budding farmers.
Growing up in Benbow was cool, actually in the winter it was downright cold. We lived in a roomy tent and I spent my days playing among the crops, at least when I was small. When I got older there was the danger of fishhooks. But while I was less than 4’ tall, running through the stalks kept me well below the trawl lines Loof had strung.
Nights were the best; Tulsy would sit in her rocker and read to me. Her rocker was actually one of those folding directors’ chairs, but one of the legs was bent so it tended to rock, side to side. She knew that education was important, so she mostly read my favorite children’s book, the Watergate congressional investigative committee transcripts. It got so I nearly memorized them, snug in my sleeping bag with my faithful dog, Expletive Deleted sitting at the edge of the bag.
Life on a farm is a lot of hard work. There is the care the plants, watering and trimming; though Tulsy did most of the trimming, which often angered Loof. We also had to put up the nets whenever we heard a helicopter flying near. Expletive Deleted prowled around protecting us from intruders, as a good Rottweiler is known to do. It was like something out of “Little House on the Prairie.” A picturesque scene with Loof out tending the crops, no shirt and in a straw hat among the towering red woods, AK47 slung over his shoulder and singing folk tunes about peace and love.
We weren’t really poor, Loof seemed to make good money selling his crops to the kids at Berkley and Humboldt. But Loof was a patriot and donated most of our money to the Army. Loof was dedicated to Simbianese Liberation. Loof also seemed to perceive that Global Warming was going to be a problem, because he gave lots of money to the Weathermen as well. So we would supplement the AFDC Tulsy was getting by going into Benbow and pan handling. Tulsy knew she was teaching me a skill I would use my entire life. Tulsy explained that many of the men would give her money when she didn’t wear a bra. To this day, if I’m pan handling, I make sure I don’t wear a bra.
I don’t remember much of my childhood, actually I don’t remember much before last weekend. (Friday night was a total bash!)
My mother was Tulsy Sae, a truly great Stockton girl and the subject of much literature prior to this. While many might critique earlier literature about Tulsy Sae as being redundant and derivative, being that the majority of it started with “for a good time call,” I trust the reader will find this section on her to be a bit more fulfilling. (Though this is fully debatable.)
My father is Loof, which I always thought to be a Viking name. Loof Stunbmun wasn’t quite Leif Ericson, but it was close enough for me. Besides, Tulsy was never all that certain that Loof was my father anyway. No matter what the circumstances, soon after I was born at the Roseville flea market and auction, Tulsy and Loof hitchhiked up to Benbow in Humboldt County. Loof wanted to be a farmer and grow crops for people at both Humboldt State and my eventual alma mater, UC Berkley. The rumors were that there was lots of unpatrolled national forest available for budding farmers.
Growing up in Benbow was cool, actually in the winter it was downright cold. We lived in a roomy tent and I spent my days playing among the crops, at least when I was small. When I got older there was the danger of fishhooks. But while I was less than 4’ tall, running through the stalks kept me well below the trawl lines Loof had strung.
Nights were the best; Tulsy would sit in her rocker and read to me. Her rocker was actually one of those folding directors’ chairs, but one of the legs was bent so it tended to rock, side to side. She knew that education was important, so she mostly read my favorite children’s book, the Watergate congressional investigative committee transcripts. It got so I nearly memorized them, snug in my sleeping bag with my faithful dog, Expletive Deleted sitting at the edge of the bag.
Life on a farm is a lot of hard work. There is the care the plants, watering and trimming; though Tulsy did most of the trimming, which often angered Loof. We also had to put up the nets whenever we heard a helicopter flying near. Expletive Deleted prowled around protecting us from intruders, as a good Rottweiler is known to do. It was like something out of “Little House on the Prairie.” A picturesque scene with Loof out tending the crops, no shirt and in a straw hat among the towering red woods, AK47 slung over his shoulder and singing folk tunes about peace and love.
We weren’t really poor, Loof seemed to make good money selling his crops to the kids at Berkley and Humboldt. But Loof was a patriot and donated most of our money to the Army. Loof was dedicated to Simbianese Liberation. Loof also seemed to perceive that Global Warming was going to be a problem, because he gave lots of money to the Weathermen as well. So we would supplement the AFDC Tulsy was getting by going into Benbow and pan handling. Tulsy knew she was teaching me a skill I would use my entire life. Tulsy explained that many of the men would give her money when she didn’t wear a bra. To this day, if I’m pan handling, I make sure I don’t wear a bra.
