Hollyweird!

....Going down Sunset Blvd., Miriam and I were handed a flyer promising a free spaghetti dinner at such and such place. We decide it might be better than the Sego we’d tried to stomach the last few days and showed up at the designated time. The place was a big two-story house with a huge living room. The dining room had the wall between them knocked out and folding chairs lined up in rows, converting the space into a makeshift church. Miriam and I felt we had been deceived because the flyer said nothing about sitting through a sermon. Regardless, we took a seat and wondered how long we’d have to endure the sermon before the food was served.
A tall, slender, blond woman in her late thirties or early forties took to the podium after some hallelujahs and a few songs. She introduced herself as Sue A…; and then went into her pitch about Jesus, how there were demons out there in the streets conniving to take these souls made vulnerable by drugs to their enticements. The enticements the demons used were nothing like the ordinary admonishments against sexual misconduct and so on, but rather, her sermon focused on suicide. This was somewhat unique to me because I’d heard most of the sermons against drugs and alcohol leading towards all sorts of unsavory behaviors but I hadn’t heard this slant before.
She railed on: “These demons are around us all the time waiting. When you drop LSD a demon enters your body: the sacred Temple of God. It takes over and lets you feel powerful and wise. Just like Eve in the Garden you become Gods; until LSD’s master, Satan, decides to call you in. That is when the demon whispers in your ear; ‘you might as well not live, to die is the best answer, take your life and go to Heaven!’” then she got very serious… “And then you commit suicide. Instead of Heaven you go straight to Hell! Don’t be fooled, children!”  It, her harangue, went on and on for the better part of an hour. This woman’s husband, Tony, was the founder of a cult and a ranch outside of town somewhere. They’d entice young and vulnerable white, middle-class runaway teens or plain ole “street people”, up to the ranch to be brainwashed and sent back into town to recruit more like themselves. I was hungry but we left before dinner was served… if it was served at all. There were folks at the door, more like waifs, trying to keep us from leaving. They all had this look in their eyes of forced glee and it also looked as though they hadn’t eaten much themselves. I plowed through them like a knife through butter to a chorus of protestations leading Miriam by the hand. We had to find Norm.

We eventually ran into Norm at the free clinic on Fairfax. He had found the house he’d been talking about at Franklin and Taft. The house had been one of the early communal family houses in Hollywood. It was owned by an older gay couple whose idea was to have a sort of tribal, open-ended, place where people could live together in an experimental communal fashion. I could see that it was probably a pretty nice old Victorian place once and, as Norm promised, it had several high-ceiling rooms. The living room was large enough but was half filled with a huge, four-poster, canopied bed. The dining room had a long table that easily seated a dozen people. The kitchen was small but comfortable and all the cupboards were sloppily painted by trippers with even sloppier psychedelic themes such as rainbows and unicorns. Miriam I were offered a bedroom upstairs, shared with another couple, that had its own bath. It seemed too good to be true to be inside, with running water and all, in a bed big enough for two couples and two cots on the side.
First thing Miriam did was to run the bath water and got in the tub. The couple, Sarah and Felix, came in the bathroom and sat around her. Miriam didn’t like being watched as she bathed but let herself be appraised regardless as Sarah noted, “You have a cute body.”
“Thanks…” Miriam answered almost shyly.
I was curious… what were these two up to?
Felix added, “Your breasts are small but perfect.”
Miriam opened her mouth like she was in a dentist chair, “You wanna see my teeth too.”
They laughed. I was going to say something about wanting some privacy at this juncture but Felix continued, “… have you two ever thought about posing.”
“Posing for what?” I asked.
Sarah picked up where Felix left off, “Skin magazines…” I knew where it was going but played dumb and looked at her incredulously, “You know, magazines... nudies… X rated.”
Miriam was enthused, “How much?”
Sarah continued, “Thirty bucks an hour for women and ten bucks for men.”
Back then X rated meant what soft-core porn is now. I was interested but had some concerns, “What about a hard-on?”
Felix smirked, “You don’t have to worry about that. As long as there is no penetration it is legal to have a semi-hard-on.”
“How about my physique? I’m no Adonis.”
Sarah retorted, “It doesn’t matter. These jerk-off rags don’t even want an Adonis… except for the gay ones.”
“Yeh,” Felix added, “but you look good enough for that even.”
“How long can it last,” Miriam asked, “I mean how many times can I be in a magazine without being seen over and over?”
“Oh, you just wear wigs and change it up,” Sarah continued, “I’ve been doing it for over a year now and I still get two or three calls a week.”

So that was how Miriam got introduced to the soft-core porn industry, I opted not to do it. It wasn’t so much that I had moral scruples but I just didn’t like the idea of posing up-close and nude without getting a hard-on. It just didn’t seem natural to me. I decided to just take whatever job I could find and leave the porn business alone.
While I was on Sunset, a nice looking black girl handed a pamphlet to me promising another free dinner.
“This ain’t like that Tony and Sue deal is it?” I plead.
She laughed, “No, have you ever heard of Nicheren Buddhism?”
“No, I mean, I’ve heard some about Buddhism but what is this?”
“We meet and have a service where we just chant. No preaching.”
“Oh, I get it. I had a friend in the Navy who was into chanting something like Nam-yo-ho-renge-kyo.”
“Yes, that’s it. You’re welcome to join us for fellowship and dinner.”
She was an attractive girl… reminded me of Glenda and I was intrigued anyway because of the brief discussions I’d had with Dan and Linda back at Altamont. I showed up hoping I’d meet with the black girl but the chanting had already begun. I was handed a printout of the chant so I went along with it. I had no idea what the words meant but it didn’t seem to matter. The power of the whole group chanting was amazing to me and I found myself, not only enjoying it but, sensing a deeper reality going on. After the chanting it got what I considered somewhat silly as individuals stood to “testify” about what chanting had done for them. There was very little talk about inner-peace, clarity of mind, union with whatever, or any such nonsense. One by one, young starlets and used-car dealers, stood to tell about how they got an audition for a role in a movie or sold a high-end auto after chanting for it only a few days or weeks. They did serve a dinner too. It was spaghetti with soy meatballs.