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Allen Clarke Allen Clarke
Recommendations: 18

The 70`s


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Man, who could ever forget the 70,s? Those were the days, my friend. It seems like there is always a song or two which keeps slipping on the cog-wheels of my hippie-ish mind. I still remember those big clogs we used to call moon-boots. And, who could ever forget those puff sleeves, even for the guys. The jeans were bell-bottomed out to extremes.Shag haircuts were the in thing, man. Those were the years that I discovered beer.I remember when you could buy a draft for 75 cents. Yeah, that`s how old I am!I seem to recall the Jordache designer brand of jeans. What I didn`t know was that there had been a similiar brand of jeans for those who were just a bit on the heavy side. The name of those jeans was....Lard-ass.
  I still remember those v.c.r. movies. And what about those nutty, rewindable cassette tapes? Not to mention those cumbersome 8-tracks.Some of my favourites were those recorded by such bands as Nazareth, C.C.R. and Deep Purple.I still remember those crazy record hops. I can still recall winning a case of pop at one of those C.K.B.I.Larry Christie record hops.Maybe they were impressed by my wildly flowing mane or my shimmering blue jeans.
  Almost, invariably, a fight would erupt outside of the Canwood Hall between some of the local farm boys and a couple of guys from the rez.The outcome was usually quick and decisive. Size wasn`t always the deciding factor. You didn`t dare piss around with some of the boys from the rez. What they lacked in size, they usually compensated with speed and just plain killer instinct. I seen some doozies in my time. The fight didn`t always go to the big boy. Some of those little brown bastards could put a spin on a farmer`s head any day of the week and twice on Thursday!The Sasakamoose clan, for example,aren`t what they used to be. In their heyday, they were to be feared when they breezed into town.Dary,Cuss and Roland were the most vicious of the lot. I saw Darius in action once in Prince Albert.It was an all out streetfight, as dirty as they come. Big old Alphonse Macallum didn`t have a ghost of  chance.I think he was weighed down by muscle.I never seen anyone get dropped so fast.
  Where am I going with this glorification of mucho machismo and violence? I don`t know. It`s just that it was all part of the ambience of those days.Funny thing is, I usually got along with most of those boys. I was kinda like that bird you see on top of that rhino in those National Geographic documentaries. Can ya dig it?
  There were few mellow memories in Sandy Lake in those days.The 70`s were for the most part, partly fun and partly tragic. They were a contradiction of what should have, or, might have been. Once in a great while, I see an old girlfriend that I used`to go with and I think to myself, ``Sho glad I didn`t!``The 70`s whirled by in a crazy montage of days spent in quiet rage and even quieter desperation. My step-father was a complete( expletive deleted).At times, life on the rez was as close to a living hell as could be humanly experienced. We lived constantly on edge. We were often reminded that we were considered to be bastards, by our step-dad.I believe that this is the primary reason for the lack of cool in my persona. My heightened sense of sarcasm is often tempered by an obsidian-like witty sense of the comical. Still, I salute the 70`s for giving me something I can never regain. If only, I could somehow step into a Time Machine, go back and re-experience the good times. Time is irreversible and we can never be as we were.Those damn tunes, keep torturing me with memory jags in my soul.They are only echoes now and I must concede;that I can only go back there in my mind. Can ya dig the essence of my stream of consciousness? Even though your reality may be vastly different from mine we were all impacted by those turbulent times, by the bittersweet angst of love lost and missed opportunities.Yes, I too was a teenager once upon the 70`s.


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