Ronald Schulz:  

Life Dropped out in my Jr. year to be a Hippie/Yippee in 1969, a year I wish I could go back to! I lived in a commune in Taos & briefly at Drop City Colorado before hooking up with a chick, Bonnie, who convinced me to go back to NYC with her--"the Village." She belonged to the famous "MotherF***rs" collective, but they didn't trust outsiders, meaning Midwestern me! So I slept on rooftops, fended off queers & steers, that damn town too urbane for the likes of me! Then met another dream gal, 16 year old runaway Karen Mucci, who showed me her diplomatic passport proving she'd been born in Korea, her father some embassy guy I guess. She hid that and was using the alias Karen Blake to throw off pursuit as we hitched north along the Hudson River amid the colorful autumn hills below threatening skies. Our first romantic night in a rustic barn just off the road as the rain fell in buckets outside & we consummated the best of loves. My mistake was we headed back to Chicago, where I got busted in a riot and she? Whatever became of her? How was I to find her when I got out of the slammer? Where is she now? ... She may have gone on to Grinnell Iowa with some friends we'd made. Karen, if you're out there I'd love to hear from you! Well, that's enough for now! Life is 1 big adventure, isn't it? Damn well ought to be anyhow, but somehow things turned respectable! Jeez, I'm driving a minivan with 3 houses & investments all over, all too weird man! See ya later, drop a line or two my way if you think you remember me & just maybe I remember you too? I told you mine now YOU tell me yours, Ron Workplace As a Freshman I washed dishes at Ehlan's Green Tree Inn after school to save some dough, then in Spring 1967 with a stash of about $150 I ran away to the "Big Easy" New Orleans, not so easy after all when you are trying to make your way as an underage kid. Getting a job and a place to stay while evading the long arm of the LAW was my 1st priority. I found some camaraderie among the bums of skid row who helped me find work at Robertsons Advertising, waking up in the freezing pre-dawn dark (never expected such bitter cold nights after such hot tropical days!) crowding into the canvas topped back of a 3 ton truck to be dropped in teams of 2 in a neighborhood to post fliers on doors all over Jefferson Parish or wherever. We got paid by the amount distributed which paid the bills for beer and pizza at the Camp Inn and my berth at the flophouse on Giraud Street after I left the slightly more expensive Alamo Hotel. Yes, no...Expand for more