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Chapter 9 Enlightenment 101 I wish to thank Art M. for his editorial assistance.
In the late 70’s, in the USA, people were far more tolerant than they are today. The drinking age was reduced in 18 in many states. Marijuana had been decriminalized in some states, like California. People generally didn’t care what you did as long as you didn’t harm anyone else and kept it to yourself. In the Navy, at that time, just about everyone did some kind of drug if you include alcohol to the list of drugs. There was no mandatory drug testing. There is no drought that the reason that sociality is less tolerant today is because of the lives that were destroyed during this time of unrestricted sex, and drugs abuse. Reagan, AIDS, and stronger, more deadly drugs added to the reasons for zero tolerance. Just say NO kids! I heard George Harrison talking about his experience with drugs. He basically said that sometime drugs could lead to a greater spiritual awareness. As you become more and more spiritually aware you find that drugs become counterproductive to that development. So you quit the drugs, which become an end unto themselves. Porter is just starting this process and it’s going to be interesting to see just where this will lead him. Friday, April 28, 1978 “That test was easy, I don’t see how anyone could fail this class.” Porter remarked during lunch. “I’m ready to do something crazy this week. Last week I rented a car and went to LA. This week I think I’ll go to Mexico. Anyone want to come along?” “I’m going clubbing this weekend Porter so you’ll have to count me out,” Porter’s best friend Art Heinz explained. His friend was 21 and about to get into the local clubs. He envied his friend and wished that he could have the same privilege. Back home in Michigan Porter was old enough to go into bars and drink. “I’ll go with you Porter,” said Don Jackson, Porter’s friend from Company 013. “I’d like to come along too,” said Jack Sanders one of Porter’s classmates he really didn’t know that well.
Saturday, April 29, 1978 The three men rode the bus downtown early the next morning. Because Porter had rented a can the week before and had brought it back without any problems his deposit was reduced to $50 and he received a 15% discount. Porter’s first stop was Ocean Beach where he was able to find a half-ounce of pot. Jackson rolled about 15 joints while Porter drove to the border. Crossing into Mexico was no problem at all. The men smoked joint after joint as Porter drove the costal highway south towards Ensenada. Some if the views were fantastic. The highway was two lanes both north and south bound separated most of the time. There were no guardrails and the highway ran for many miles along a cliff of more the 600 feet. The men stopped at several turnoffs to look at just how far above the ocean they were and marveled at the beauty of nature. After several hours of driving they were in Ensenada and the men wasted no time getting as drunk as fast as they could. The beer was cheap, cold, and tasted very good. Porter had never before had Mexican beer. He wasn’t a fan of beer, just the effect it had on him. The beer had no name, just three XXX’s on the label. It was no surprise that Don Jackson did most of the drinking. This seemed to be his drug of choice. The men found a café and enjoyed lunch. Porter though that the food was some of the best he’d ever tasted. The men decided to head back. Don Jackson bought himself another six bottles of the beer and Porter allowed him to drive. More joints were smoked and by the time they were back at the cliff area all three men were feeling kind of tired especially Jackson. The north bound lanes were about 400 feet above the south bound lanes with had another 400 feet cliff down to the ocean. There was no shoulder or guardrail. Going off the edge meant certain death. Twice Jackson almost went off the side of and over both cliffs. If Porter hadn’t reacted quickly, grabbed the steering wheel, safely bringing the vehicle back on the road you wouldn’t be reading this now. Porter insisted that Jackson pull the car over and he resumed driving them towards home. Porter drove into Tijuana during rush hour and was exposed to the worst driving conditions of his life. No one paid any attention to the traffic signals and Porter followed the flow of traffic. It seemed to Porter that there was only about a few inched between himself and the four vehicles surrounding him. He finally managed to get out of traffic and find a place to park. The men walked around and did some shopping. Porter bought a 10-inch switchblade knife (the biggest he could find) and asked Jackson if he could carry it across the border in his boot. Jackson said that was fine with him. As they approached the border Porter put the quarter ounce of pot he had left in his underwear. He really didn’t think they would have any problem, as they were clean cut American Sailors. He was wrong. When they got up to the inspection center they were asked to leave their car and go inside the building. While sitting on a bench Jackson reached in his boot and pulled out the switchblade and handed it to Porter. Porter stuffed the knife down his pants. A very few minutes later and man in a border patrol uniform approached Porter, “you come with me.” He said pointing at Porter. Porter followed him back into a small room with a sink and a toilet in it that Porter figured was used for strip searches. “We searched your vehicle and found what was left of 18 joints. It looks like you have had a fun day. Where did you get this marijuana?” “I got it at Ocean Beach before we left this morning.” “You didn’t buy this in Mexico?” “No sir that would be dangerous.” “I’d like you to drop your pants and give me the knife son.” Porter did as he was told and gave him the knife. He still had the quarter ounce of marijuana in his underwear. “It’s like this, the knife is a $25 fine. For the marijuana we have to impound your rental car as you are using it to comment a crime, you’ll never get it back. You’ll have to pay the rental car company for a new car. You’ll also have to go to jail, and you’ll face charges of smuggling a controlled substance across the US border. After you’ve served your jail time for that offence the Navy will have there turn with you. How long have you been in the Navy son?” “About four months.” The seriousness of the situation was finally starting to get through Porter thick stoned mind! His life was over! “Or I could just let you flush these roaches and allow you to pay the fine for the knife. I’ll tell you what; this is what I’ll do. I’m going to allow you to flush the marijuana and than I’ll put your name on a list of people to be checked should you cross any US border again. If you’re found to be carrying anything you’re not suppose to, you’ll have the book thrown at you.” Porter was allowed to flush the roaches and pay his fine. He walked back to his rental car still carrying the quarter ounce of pot in him pants. It was his lucky day. He blamed Don Jackson for loosing his cool but also felt that if it weren’t for that knife the border guard would have found the pot for sure. This would be the last time Porter would ever spend any time with Don Jackson.
Sunday, April 30, 1978 “Come on Porter get up, we’re going to Blacks beach!” said Slone. “It’s a nudie beach, we’re all going. Come on and join us.” “Sorry Slone, I had kind of a rough day yesterday. I’m going to catch up on my sleep and then do my laundry. I haven’t done it since I got here.” “It’s up to you but you’ll be missin’ out.” “That’s great, but now I need sleep, have a good time!” Porter did sleep most of the day, and then did his laundry. After eating dinner he went down to Ocean Beach, and was able to find something he was looking for, LSD. He bought two hits for a guy that looked like a sailor or marine and hoped it was of good quality. Street acid often contained strychnine and could cause muscles to spasm uncontrollably or even death. When he got back to his BEQ his roommates had returned. He smoked a joint with them and they told him about their adventure that day. They all had a hard time sitting down, as their rear ends were badly sun burned.
Monday, May 01, 1978 “I tell you Heinz, you’ll enjoy this buzz.” Said Porter trying to convince his friend Heinz of the effects of LSD. “I’ll try it Porter I just don’t want to be in the chow hall when it happens.” Heinz replies. “Being someplace besides the base would be better should you have a bad reaction,” said one of Porter’s roommates. As soon as class was over for the day Porter and Heinz took the acid and headed off base. They went to ‘the woods’ and smoked a couple of joints. The acid wasn’t the best, but it was good enough to get both men real messed up. They both smoked way too many cigarettes and talked while their minds were going a mile a minute. “So tell me Porter, you were talking about people that are materialistic and spiritual. What’s the difference?” “Before we can discuss that we really need to clarify what is God,” said Porter with authority as if me really knew what he was talking about. “There are almost as many concepts of God are there are people. Some people think Jesus is God. Other’s think that their God is everything. Some even think that God is a human being. One thing for sure God is not a human being.” “Let me see if I can find something to compare God with. You see abstract concepts sometimes are only understandable through another abstract concept. What I see when I look at God is a wheel in a wheel. The inter wheel is like the United States government. You have one powerful figure that has executive power just like the president. This would be God the Father. Then there’s Son’s of God that are like the Supreme Court. The next part of the internal circle is the Holy Spirits and is comparable to both houses of Congress. God the Father enforces the law, Son’s of God interpret the law, and the Holy Spirits make the law. All three have separate but equal power under the law. Beyond that, the outer circle of God includes everything. The air we breathe, the water we drink, the warmth of the sun. It’s all that is good based on love. ‘Where did that come from?’ Porter wonders. “Where did you come up with that Porter?” Heinz asked. “I’m not sure Heinz, the whole concept just seemed to pop into my head. This acid really gets me cooking. I tell you what Heinz. It’s probably best if you ignore anything I say when we are stoned like this. Unless when you’re sober you receive some kind of conformation of the concept. I’m not a very deep person Art! All I really thing about is sex, drugs, and rock and roll and not necessarily in that order.” “Yes I like this LSD much better than that PCP we did. What you just said was intense.” “It’s really not that intense Heinz. LSD warps your perception of reality. That’s why things you normally wouldn’t notice trip you out. Jokes that aren’t funny can keep you laughing for hours on LSD. It’s also easy to loose you train of thought and let your mind wander. Now where was I? Okay I remember now. “A materialist is someone who is into the things of this world. Nice cars, money, pride, sex, drugs, and other things of this world are material things. Family, friends, love, caring, faith, hope, and giving are spiritual things. A spiritualist is someone who is into these things. Someone who is religious is into whatever traditions, ceremonies, and beliefs of whatever group they’re a member of. These are the three categories that people fall into. Most people are a combination. Are you still following me Heinz? I’m sure I can explain it on a lower level if I need to.” “Sure, it makes sense to me.” “Religious people say that you have to act just like them or else you’re going to hell. I was raised to believe that hell is just for the most evil of people. People that have hate in their heart. You see God is love and God can’t tolerate hate. God loves us so much that it saddens him when we do things that lead to death either spiritually or physically. God calls these things sin. The results of sin is death, therefore anything that leads to death must be a sin. If smoking leads to death it’s a sin. God is more concerned for our health and well being than anything else. That’s why religions have so many rules. It’s mostly all common sense. We are tripping on LSD, smoking pot, and cigarettes. We are killing ourselves in many different ways. The problem is sin is fun and it’s genetic. Your kids end up having the same problems that you have.” “So what you’re saying is that God doesn’t hate the sin, he’s upset because we are hurting ourselves or others.” “Exactly, I was taught to love the person and hate the sin. This is not the proper approach. We need to love the person and accept them as they are. Some people are harder to love than others. We are not to judge them because all of us sin - some more than others. I know I’m living a dangerous life style right now but that’s a choice all of us must decide for ourselves. I almost went to jail forever last weekend and here I am all wasted on several different drugs. I guess you could say that by sinning we are playing mind games with God.” “Mind games with God, how do you do that Porter?” “It’s like the story of Jesus and Satan when Jesus was standing next to a cliff and Satan commands him to throw himself off the cliff so God will send his angles to save him. He replies buy saying do not tempt the Lord your God. When we do things that might kill us we are throwing ourselves off that cliff expecting him to catch us. Right now we are tempting God.” Heinz and Porter were up late into the night discussing the same concepts in great detail. Neither of them got any sleep that night. Porter went on and on about looking for conformation to these concepts. Porter had entered into a cycle of revelation and conformation that would last as long as he lives. For Bill Porter has entered the twilight zone!
Tuesday, May 02, 1978 By the time Porter and Heinz got out of school they were getting their second wind after being up all night. Porter decided that he liked the acid and decided to try to score more from the same guy the next time he felt like tripping out. He asked Heinz if he wanted to go to Ocean Beach with him and Sheridan asked if he could come along, as he wanted to score on some weed. Porter did run into the same guy. He looked like a sailor as he had short hair. “Hey do you remember me,” Porter said to the guy as he approached. “I sure do, you got something from me the other day. Did you like it?” “I sure did, I was wondering if you have anymore I could get?” Porter replied. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll front you 10 hits and you can pay me back $40 after you sell them.” Porter did the math in his head, ‘I paid $5 a hit, if I sell 8 hits for $5 each I get two hits for free. Why is this guy trusting me?’ “How do you know you can trust me?” “Don’t worry, I know where to find you. I’ve seen you around the base.” ‘This guy wants me to do the same thing Mike used to get me to do. Distribution! Sounds like a plan to me.’ “I’ll do it.” “Great, I’ll plan on running into you Thursday and re-supply.” The dealer gave Porter a very small glass bottle with a cap on it and tab acid inside. Porter then said goodbye and rejoined his friends. “Wasn’t that weird? Perhaps my luck is changing.” Porter said smiling. Sheridan found the pot he was looking for and ended up buying one of the hits of acid. They went down to ‘the rocks’ and smoked a couple of joints. “Porter has been telling me about all kinds of things he’s figured out Sheridan,” Heinz stated. You have anything new to add today? “I sure do, I always have something to talk BS about.” Porter didn’t take anything he said to Heinz seriously. To him it was like some kind of game. After all, he really was talking noise, as he didn’t stop doing drugs even though he knew he was killing himself. Doing evil was something Porter was getting better and better at. “Tonight I think I’ll talk about the fact that there is a reason for everything. Lets review. We play mind games to find out what is going on around us. You have to understand the relationship of cause and effect. I believe that there is some kind of God that has power over everything.” “Right now I’m freaked out over numbers. It just can’t be a coincidence. I have lucky numbers. My lucky numbers are three, 13, and 63. These numbers are sometimes combined. Like and social security number starts with 363 and my drivers license number starts with 636. Friday the 13th also has a special meaning for me. I’m really not sure why but I know it does. My sister was born on Friday the 13th. I went to boot camp on Friday the 13th, company 013. A guy in company 013 in rack number 1313 was born on Friday the 13th. I was in rack number 1316 but I was born on Friday the 16th. I’m 63 inches tall and in 1963 I was three years old. I don’t know what it all means, perhaps I never will but I know it all has a reason. Perhaps it’s got something to do with my death!” “When I die I want to take a dozen hits of acid, get on my Harley, and drive into the sunset,” Sheridan comments. “Now look at today. Some guy runs into me and supplies me with an endless supply of LSD. I’ve only been in San Diego a few weeks. I also don’t feel it’s a coincidence that we have become friends Art. And think of this Sheridan, we have been together even longer and under stranger circumstances then Heinz and I. It seems like two or three times a day one of these numbers pop-up. It freaks me out.” “This Acid is pretty good Porter, I’m starting to peak and freak too.” Sheridan again comments. “I think it does mean something Porter,” Heinz comments. The young men spent several hours talking about different coincidences before heading back to the base. They got on the bus back to the base when some guy who looked like a junkie started yelling and screaming at the half dozen sailor on the back of the bus where Porter, Heinz, and Sheridan were sitting. He went on and on about how he hates sailors and he finally pulls a knife and starts threatening everyone. Porter figured that the bus driver had called the police and they would be boarding the bus soon to take him away. The bus arrived at the bus stop before this happened and they managed to get off the bus without getting killed. Porter figured that the guy was freaking out on drugs.
Wednesday, May 03, 1978 The next day in class Sheridan looked about as rough as Porter and Heinz had the day before. With Sheridan helping to tell everyone about the acid Porter was selling word spread quickly. By the end of the day he’d sold out of the ten hits he was given. Once back at his room his roommates tried to get him to join them once again. “I tell you Porter this whore’s looked good. She said that she does group rates. The more guys I bring the cheaper it is for all of us. What do you say Porter?” Slone says. “Thanks for asking Slone but no thanks. I already made plans for tonight,” Porter lied. He had no more interest in banging some whore than he did exposing himself on some nude beach. What he really planned on doing was smoking a bowl by himself in his room and sleeping a good ten hours. Having his roommates off parting was one way to insure that he got his way. Which was just what he did.
Thursday, May 04, 1978 “Wake up,” said someone shaking Porter. Porter opened his eyes and saw that it was morning. He then looked to see who was interrupting his slumber. It was the same guy that had fronted him the acid. “I guess you do know where to find me! Hang on I’ll get you your money.” Porter got out of his rack and went over to his closet. He pulled $40 out of his wallet and he picked up the empty pill bottle handing it to the drug dealer. “There you go, you have another ten hits for me?” “I sure do, do you want more than that?” “No, ten is enough. Should I get caught with it I can always say it was for personal use only. More than ten and they’re not going to believe me.” Porter remembered in orientation the talk about what happened to drug dealers. Some guy with a suitcase full of pills ended up going to Leavenworth KS. This meant nothing to Porter as going to prison was something that only happened to others. “If you need more look for me at the chow hall or at the beach in the evenings. I’ll follow-up with you in a day or two.” And with that the pusher left. Porter knew his game. Porter wondered how many others at NTC this guy had distributing his drugs. Porter didn’t mind one bit, he knew that by the end of the day he’d be tripping again even though he had a test the next day.”
Friday, May 05, 1978 “What are you doing tonight Porter?” Heinz asked Porter after finishing school for the day. “I think I’m going to head downtown and spend the night at the armed forces YMCA. It’s only $7 a night.” “Don’t do nothing I wouldn’t do Porter.” “You know me Heinz, I’d try anything once, and twice if I like it! You know what I always say, if it feels good do it.” Porter got on the bus and went downtown. He checked into the Armed Forces YMCA and went up to his room. The room was 10 X 12 with a twin bed that had open springs and a mattress that looked to be from WWII. The best part of the room was a 19” color TV with cable. This was worth the $7 just to be able to watch TV undisturbed for the night. The YMCA also had the same size rooms with two twin beds for $10. Porter figured this was a good place to party until you drop. Porter dropped some acid and smoked a bowl. Soon he was stoned and well on his way to getting wired. He knew that there was a public bathroom in the basement of the building and he wandered down there. As he entered the large bathroom he was that there were a bunch of old men just standing around. There were about a dozen urinals on one wall and ten stalls on the other wall. All had doors except the last two one side and the ones with doors were coin operated. All were filled. ‘Are all these old men waiting to get into one of the stalls? It smells terrible down here! I better get out of here before someone sees me.’ Porter left the bathroom and went back up to his room. He’d noticed that there were a bunch of open doors as he went back to his room. He really didn’t pay much attention to who was in the rooms or why the doors were open until he went into the bathroom, and went into one of the stalls. On the wall was written, ‘for a good time leave your door open.’ Porter went back to his room and closed his door, locked it with a chain latch, and opened his window. ‘There’s old fags everywhere. I bet half the people here are gay - the other half probably just want to party. It’s probably the safest place to get high I’ve found so far but not the greatest. It sure has been a weird week. I wonder what next week will bring?’
Saturday, May 06, 1978 "I
never really thought about it, Heinz. Let me see what I can come up with. I
would say that I first need to understand my parents. Much of what we are is a
combination of our parents. My mom is a dreamer and my dad is a doer. My mom
dreams about what she wants to do but never does it. For example, she decides
that she is going to go on a diet and lose weight. She tells everyone and their
kid brother that she's going on some new diet but two weeks later she's off it.
I've seen her repeat this cycle many times. I think it's better to just go
ahead and do it and then brag about it after you have achieved your goal." Dad
is a real good doer but he lacks the vision. Things work for him but they would
work better if he planned his work and worked his plan. For example, he
remodeled the basement and it took him years because he really didn't work
everything out ahead of time."
Sunday,
May 07, 1978
Wednesday, May 10, 1978
"Where is Beck?" Porter
asked at lunch. |