I have lived in California, Alaska, Washington and Arizona, I like to call my self a Westcoaster. I am very grateful for having aged in California, I really have no grown up, as of yet, just ask anyone, who thinks they know me :/
My personal growth started in Anchorage, at the beginning of 1996, well not really, I think it started in Kodiak, Uganik bay, or perhaps on the boas, that is where I did very little drinking, but truthfully, until I was able to open my eyes, was not until 1996, and a year of AA meetings everyday, I went to them religiously, but this is about places i have had my body. My favorite, has to be California of the 70’s
grateful, because there was not the whitewash brainwash, schooling of the Indian or Native States. California, it was hip to be Native American, more specifically Cherokee, or Apache, as they did not know what an Eskimo was, or even less about an Alaskan Native. nada, ditto, nothing. well there was the time our 6th grade teacher tried to make eskimo ice cream out of Crisco Oil and jam. it was disgusting, perhaps, because I had been raised on granulated white sugar. Pied and cookies. I was a sugar junckie, Crisco oil? no f’n way. We ran around barefoot most of the summer and got to wear beanies in the winter, It even snowed one year and melted by noon. When it did rain, we raced wooden popcicle boats in the gutter. We loved big wheels, and going down hills, Played football during football season, basball during baseball season, even basket ball and soccer, when it was happening, there was no weather to deal with. when it rained, well it poured, torrential rains. we went to the beach and North Oaks pool was our summer hang out, as teenagers we had season passes to Magic Mountain, the parties were Keggers with live bands. We had not clue what a Native was. The girls with their tans and bikini’s were the pretties on earth. the David Lee Roth song, ” I wish they all could be California” was real.
Then I moved to Alaska for my sophomore year, at Diamond high school, af first it was a hoot, I was the new kid, Tan and blond, with a surfer persona, I palled up with another Southern Californian, from Sacramento. We lived in an Apartment on Arctic and international, we got our first taste of potent Marijuana, across the apartments from us was a dealer Named Curt, although we could not afford it, he was happy to share, not often, but enough that we had to be careful, dumb and numb that what that stuff was. This was quite and adventure. My dad bought us skiis and me and Gilbert went to the top of Aleyska, not a good idea, we crashed and burned the whole way down. We then got a book and went to Russian Jack and learned to ski properly.