More weird crap in Mike’s place
Growing up in the 60s, I was a bit too young to get into the officially approved rockhippieantiwar-run off to the Height and Groove all Night-scene. That duty was relegated to my sister who was 4 years older and part of the prime demographic for VW Bugs, beads and Patchouli incense. And we were only about 35 miles south of The City. My job was to follow the moon program. So odd to think that as I write this, it is 45 years since the One Small...
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