19, and such. Chap.1

Nineteen. It was 1972 when I was that age, a world here in Los Angeles so different from now.

One day, it was a beautifully colored dusk in warm July, the still palms sillouets against the clouds, rush hour traffic drone, but serene mood across the shimmering water. Sitting by my usual tree in Westlake Park, then came a big surprise. In one fairly scary and unexpected instant, two guys jumped out from behind a nearby bush, both commanding me to "FREEZE!"

Well, I did just that, thinking I was getting robbed, but no such luck, so to speak. They were ununiformed officers from the notorious and elite Metro division, I later learned. But, their sudden and crashing entrance somehow didn't prevent my automatic response of flicking the glow end off the skinny joint I was smoking, and pop it down my throat. But, not quickly enough to go unnoticed, as the next thing I heard and felt was "He swallowed it!" Then, very strong hands tightening around my airpipes. "Spit it out, a-hole, now!", they both shouted repeatedly, shaking me about by the neck like a rag doll. But, alas, it was too late, swallowed, gone, and that made these two super on the job crime fighters even madder. But, it hardly mattered as it took them no time to find the two other joints in my shirt pocket. So then, slap on the painful cuffs, and off to jail with me. Nineteen. 1972.