Hey baby let’s go see Blind Faith

 Hey baby let’s go see Blind Faith





     This is a story that Greg loved about a South Gate character we called "Horse's Ass" or "H.A." I  will leave his full name out since most stories about the guy are filled with ridicule because of his inflated sense of self. H.A. was a bit older than us and was really a friend of our good pal Bobby Whitney. I will call the kid Mike to make it short. There are several very good tales from our childhood about the guy and our time shared with him stretched from St. Helen to Pius X and a bit after. He matured way ahead of us and was always trying to not just fit in but stand out from the crowd. While he was not terribly athletic or academically gifted he dressed flamboyantly, tried to smoke cigars and was banned from my household because my Dad thought he was gay (which he was not) and a loser (which might have been). He was the first of any of us to drive a car and he christened his drivers license by taking us all to A&W Root Beer for a mug and some chili fries. Mike thought he was God's gift to girls and considering he had wheels that increased his chances. However, his bragging about his conquests was mostly fictional as were most of his self-aggrandizing bluffing. In this particular case the hippy sixties were in full swing and several of the old gang had served in the military, re-entering the Love generation...man.  We all were obsessed with getting girlfriends with little success. This was Summer of 1969 and Mike was shooting his mouth off as usual and bragging that he had scored some tickets to a very popular and hip group called Blind Faith. Few rock groups were bigger than Cream in those days and Blind Faith was made up of the remnants of that group and had a huge hit record out. So Mike boasted  to us that he was just going to get a convertible and drive around Hollywood until he saw a beautiful woman and pull up and say "Hey baby, le't go see Blind Faith." 



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