145 pounds in about three months. I looked like I came out of Dachau. That was it! Thin and beautiful.”
≈ Who else did you meet there? ≈
“The most impactful person I met there was L.M., Laura Malman. We used to call her the Quaalude Queen, because that’s what she was: The Quaalude Queen! She would sit home … she was a want-to-be dancer, thin, nice body. Her puh-n’m [face] though—you could definitely find better. But a nice body. She was the gatherer of Quaaludes from several different sources. Back then, people used to go to doctors and get legitimate scripts for the Quaaludes before the doctors were even aware that this was a misused drug. And they would go and get thirty—, or 60 Quaaludes and they would sell them to Laura Malman for a buck a piece, and then she would sell them for two-fifty [$2.50] a piece. She used that power over the drug addicts like me and my friend Don, to kind of control us a little bit. I became her ‘consigliore’ and used to advise her on business acumen and different ways of handling her business. And she used to meet up with some pretty strange guys.
“We were on the periphery of knowing some, quote, famous people. So, we would go to a party out in the Valley, Thousand Oaks. And there would be Grateful De—not Grateful Dead. The uh … No. It was the Grateful Dead! And there were a couple of other bands that would show up. And God … we met Robert Plant from Led Zeppelin and other people like that,” said Boogie, visibly excited to be re-living the moment—much more than ‘re-living’—more, as if, really back in the moment.
“One day while helping Laura Malman move into her Laurel Canyon home, the next-door neighbor came down to offer us a hand, and it turned out to be James Earl Jones. And he said, ‘Need a haaahnnd?’ ” recounted Boogie, attempting to imitate the deeply resonant British-sounding voice. “And he rolled up his sleeves and helped us move furniture into the house. You just never knew who you were going to rub shoulders with.
“I remember in West L.A., we used to go to this famous barbecue place. And again, we were, 99 times out of 100, stoned on Quaaludes and we ran into—this was in ‘74—we ran into O.J. Simpson and Nicole (Brown) Simpson. This was just before they got married. And me, being stoned out of my mind, started needling him because I’m a Miami Dolphins fan, telling him ‘how much better the Dolphins were than the Buffalo Bills,’ which is who he used to play for at the time, and he ‘could never hold Jim Brown’s jockstrap, as far as a running back goes.’ To this day, I look back and wonder how he didn’t just pop off and smack me in the mouth or something. Things like that … you would just run into people. Yeah, L.A. was a very interesting place, but a tough place when you didn’t have money.
“And the second time I went back there, which was three years later, which was in ‘77. Again, I didn’t have a lot of money and,” Boogie added nervously, “got into a scrape with a guy. I stole … took his girlfriend out or something. You know … had a fling with her for a couple of weeks. And he was some big huge humongous guy, six-two, and he wasn’t too happy about it! And I tried to reason with him, ‘Well, if she wanted to be with you, she’d be with you!’ So he picked up an ax handle and threatened to smash it across my face and, and ‘Not make me so pretty anymore!’ After that, and a couple of other things, I ended up actually going to Spokane, Washington later that year and spending time with my Cousin Mike, who bailed me out of many a tough moment. And that was one of them.”
≈ But, what did you learn from all of this? ≈
“The first two times in L.A. were interesting, met a lot of people, had good times, but it was almost always drug-related. And I was almost always broke! It had the allure. You could go to this coffee shop, and whatever, you could smell the money. You just knew there was money there, and you just had to figure out a way to make enough money to make it happen.
“Thank G—!” said Boogie, clearly stopping himself from completing the word. “Eventually I did, back in the early 90s, after working with Sleep Castle for a while, went out to California and opened up stores for them, and made a very nice living. And it certainly was from a different perspective having money. And it was just a much, much nicer lifestyle. Wasn’t into drugs at the time. Just a whole different animal, when you have a beautiful apartment in Newport Beach, looking out at the ocean. Again, it was a very, very consumer-driven … very, very Me-me-me, Look-at-what-I-have type of society. But when you have it, you don’t mind flaunting it a little bit. And when I finally did make it, I didn’t mind flaunting it a little bit.
“In ‘74 I left California and ended up taking a Greyhound bus from L.A. to Miami. It was a three-day bus ride. And unbeknownst to me at the time, I had hepatitis. I was really feeling lousy, and had no money. I basically made it across country on less than 20 dollars for the 3 days. Needless to say, I ran out of money after the first day and,” sounding like a preacher, Boogie added in a cocky, nasal tone, “relied ‘on the kindness of strangers’ for the rest of the trip.
“I’ll never forget my mother picking me up at the bus depot. You know, basically, here I am …defeated! —Or at least that’s the way I felt—having, quote, failed in California, and being sick as a dog—convalescing on her sofa for the next six—, to 8 weeks. So that was the first trip to California.
“The second trip to California was … you know, I couldn’t wait to get back. Our home situation was tough. My younger brother and I still lived with our parents. My dad was ill. And it just drove us crazy. We couldn’t stand it. We took any and every chance we could to get out of there. Again, with my dad being ill, I was kind of trapped into helping him run his business,” said Boogie, a little louder than normal, but not shouting.
“And I hated that! I hated the pressure. I hated the fact that, quote, the family’s livelihood depended on me! And I just couldn’t stand that pressure. And I couldn’t wait to get out of Florida. So I went back to California the second time, and it was kind of a repeat performance of the first time. Went back there in ‘77. Again, it lasted maybe seven—, 8 months. And that’s when I went up to Spokane and started another chapter of my life—living with my Cousin Mike.”
Mike’s House
Mid June, 2010
A gentle and not unpleasant vibration near my groin complimented the attention I was giving to the attractive woman in the commercial. Begrudgingly, I dug the silver Motorola from my jeans pocket. Before flipping open the cover, I quickly glanced at the screen. This allowed me the delay needed to modify my behavior. Mildly disturbed by the unforeseen interruption, I faked my best and most pleasant “Hey, Boogie! How are you doing?”
After a little banter that vaguely resembled an attempt at conversation, he eventually got to the purpose of his call. After 47 years of dealing with Ben, I have learned that he never calls just to say hello. This would be no exception.
“I have some vacation time coming up and wondered if I could visit for four—, or 5 days, sometime in the last two weeks in July?”
Before answering, I reflected on my wife’s rule: Always Ask Hannah. It has taken me over 30 years to remember to implement that imperative.
Hesitating only a moment, I offered lightheartedly, “Let me look at my social calendar”—an annual gift from friends in the UK that I mostly use to list my medical appointments. Inspecting it and my memory very carefully, I said, “Looks OK for me, but hold on and let me check with Hannah.” I should have studied the July picture of Conwy Castle, Gwynedd, Wales much longer.
Walking
