I don't remember if I was actually there or not (Ville can let us know when she visits here). That's the way it was in the mid-to-late 80s: I remember a great many things that I never actually experienced because my large circle of friends (La Boheme) had a lot of tales to tell from both the past and the then present. We were a colorful lot of young to youngish people who were dedicated to taking in all that life had to offer. In that regard, I experienced more of the 60s in the 80s than I actually did in the 60s. I confess, those lazy summers of 1986-89 saw a lot of boxed wine, cases of cheap beer, herbal ecstasy and pot. In one summer day I could easily go through two years of intense psychological therapy. No shit. It was a very healing time for all of us and because of that and the friendships that were set into stone, you'll never hear me expressing any PC regret over how I spent that short phase of my life. Do-gooders be damned!
Anyway, in those days, selected bedroom floors in Ventura, Oxnard, Camarillo, Santa Paula and Port Hueneme were always covered with sleeping friends and, being one large family, those nights were close and always full of laughter. One night (like I said, I can't remember if I was actually there or not) Cteve (1968-2001) had just fallen asleep on the floor and the rest of us/them were up partying, as usual. All of a sudden, he sat up and said, "Alpo", then lay back down and continued his sleep. From that night on, we've called that state between wakefulness and sleep, the "Alpo state". It's one of those you had to be there things, but because Wednesday is Cteve's birthday, I wanted to share it with you.