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| When I was a newbie premie |  | ||
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It was way back whenever if you know what I mean. I ransacked my family's home of anything and everything and put it all in the two car garage for Divine Sales to pick up and take to their South Side store that was under the train line on 47th. It was a little scary in that neighborhood. In fact, about the only time I ever was at that store was February '74. I didn't have a job and I was being dispatched by the ashram honchos along with the other lowly ashram folks and the ashram wannabes. So, there I was at the Divine Sales store under the train line on a nice sunny day in February, which was an exception for the norm in those parts. Out of nowhere, this ashram premie tells me to build a stage for Maharaji. Maharaji was coming to town and needed a stage. Sure, like I knew everything there was to know about stages. I mean like what size and all those simple questions. And does it need an emergency exit? So, I was off to build a stage. The ashram people had actually left me with some materials. Basically I had a 4 by 8 foot sheet of about 1/2 inch thick plywood and some two-by-fours, some nuts and bolts and some tools I scrounged up from the store. So, I set off and cut and put the two-by-fours onto the plywood. I put an extra set of two-by-four legs in the middle of the set-up to make it stronger and not flex as much. I mean, I really was not a carpenter or anything, but knew just a little. But I also knew I preferred nuts and bolts over nails for sturdiness because you could tighten them a whole lot. It turned out that the stage, as small as it was, was the darshan stage that us premies scampered across and got holy breath and a foot kiss. I was pleased that I had the guru guided inner sense to put in the extra support even though I had no clue as to what and how this little stage would be used. Meanwhile, back at my family home in the suburbs I was not there when Divine Sales came by to get all my stuff. I had already surrendered myself and was sneaking around the city at night wheat-pasting Maharaji's posters on to highway bridges, beautiful and newly painted steel lamp posts on one of the city's most important financial district's street. And my father actually worked on that street. But, damn! In that garage full of stuff was my vinyl record collection going back to '64. I loved music more than anything. In fact, when I first heard there was a 'music technique' I imagined it to involve something like a stereo with a record player. I knew that technique was gonna be sweet. And it was. It was like a ringing in my head. Where did I get those ideas? And where was I going to get some new Maharaji flavored ideas that would help fill out my life and get me going on the right track? Yeah, those ideas. But, damn! I gave up my Paul Revere and the Raiders albums. Those cannot be replaced, my friend. No. Gone. Gone forever. Wait a second! Screw that. I've got Spotify. But, I'm not going to listen to Paul Revere and the Raiders. No. Modified by eDrek at Sat, Feb 10, 2018, 21:04:01 |
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