One day Jeff and Jill were driving down 21st st.(in Portland) and as they passed by the Earth they saw a crowd of people on the sidewalk.Thinking something was up, they pull over to check it out. It was Weber, passed out cold in the gutter. It seems that Weber's girlfriend, Chris VanKamen, had been to Dr. Spray,the local pill doctor, and had gotten a scrip for Valium, Quaalude and something else. Weber found the scrip,went to the drugstore, identified himself as Chris and picked up the pills. He knew that when Chris found out, she would demand the goods so he started eating them, a handful at a time. They were almost gone when he passed out. When Jeff and Jill found him he was grey. Not breathing. When they tried to put him in the car he was stiff and wouldn't fit in the back seat. They bent his legs in, slammed the door and rushed him to the hospital. They pulled up to the emergency room, rolled him onto the sidewalk and sped away with a doctor chasing them, waving papers yelling "Wait!!! You have to sign this!!!" In Vermont and Washington you could buy codeine cough syrup over the counter but only one bottle a week and you had to sign for it.In Vermont,it was Jeff's ritual to go "Postering"for the gig next weekend.We would hop into the rusty old beater with the fake inspection sticker and hit every town in a 50 mile radius.The first stop- the Pharmacy- pick up a bottle of Robitussen AC-then stop at every bar in town,have a drink,hang a poster and head to the next town and do the same.In Washington it was slightly more difficult.The pharmacist generally wouldn't sell to you unless you lived in the neighborhood and looked fairly respectable.Jeff would get up early,dress up-jacket and tie-and cruise Seattle looking for drug stores.Finding a likely neighborhood,he would go thru the phone book for a local name, adress and phone number where there was no answer when he called,memorized it,and went to every pharmacy in the area--"Sure this is where I live,the wife is home with a cold-Call her up!" Usually this was enough,but if they did call,he'd say"Damn!She probably went to the neighbor's house."or something like that.--Move on to another neighborhood.8-10 bottles was a good day. Nobody was as good at hustling prescription drugs as Jack the Fluke. He came thru Portland about 1978 with Tom the Fisherman.They had been kicked out of Gate 5 in Sausalito for drunkenness,thievery and general mayhem.We had the Rounder's bus parked at these poor college student friends of Jill's on SE Ankeny St.Jack went right to work.He opened the phone book to physicians and started calling."Hey Doc" he would start in his best Texas twang."I'm a country sanger on tour--Name's------- I'm playing tonite at-------.I've got this terrible sore throat and I gotta sing tonite. My doctor back in Arkansas gave me this stuff--Hic--Hi--Hi Co Dan-or something like that.Well,it's all gone--Could you call in a prescription to this drug store at -------"Most would refuse to do so but perseverance furthers.In a few hours he would have 8-10 bottles waiting at drugstores around the city.All he had to do was hustle up a ride and some $$. Another scam was to go thru the phone book calling doctor's offices, schmoozing the secretaries for the oldest doctor they know, someone who had practiced in the area for a long,long time.He'd show up at the office--Hey Doc -------, I haven't seen you since I was a little kid!My mom was ----------!!'The geezer would look at him and go"Uhh,,,I really don't remember,,,,"but Jack would"remember" this and that--"My mother would never trust any Doctor but you to take care of us kids." "Oh yes,I think I remember---How is your mother?" "Oh,she passed away a few years ago." "Oh I'm so sorry! How can I help you today?" "I have this lower back pain---Morphine works." More often than not,it worked. Jeff was walking by the bathroom one morning and he heard this horrible sucking noise coming from inside.He opens the door and peeks in.There's Fluke---all 300 pounds---in the bathtub.He's got about 1 inch of water in it--just enough to get a good seal--and he's arching his spine to get suction on his back."Jack!!! What the hell are you doing???"Sez Jeff Jack gets up,naked and dripping--He's got a hickey 3 inches wide from his butt to his neck.He gets his list of doctors and goes from office to office---- "Doc,,,I'm in terrible pain!!I fell down the stairs and I can hardly walk!! "Yeah,Right......"sez the doc---Jack takes off his shirt---- "Oh my God!!!"sez the doc.He'd come back with several 'scrips of Dilaudid--- sell some to the junkies for $15 a pop-- About 1980 Fluke was coerced into helping Doc Danzig--Hurley's stepfather--move from his place in Pennsylvania to Vermont,carrying boxes etc.They gave him the task of packing up the stuff in the garage.Along one wall he found cases and cases of pharmaceutical samples--40 years worth that the Doc had thrown in the garage-Fluke was in Heaven!-He went to the house,found a big suitcase and filled it with every pill that could get you high--Leapers,Creepers, mood levelers,etc.-- whatever--He called a cab to the airport and flew to Nevada.He got off the plane in Reno with nothing but a suitcase of pills.He was a popular guy for awhile. Jeffrey and Jack the Fluke(Walt the Flake) had both been complaining about their bleeding hemmorhoids for a week or so, each saying that their 'rhoids were worse than the other's. The only way to settle the argument was to compare. They went into the bathroom and Jeff examines Jack's 'rhoids. "God!! Walter!! Those are terrible! That must hurt like hell!!" "I told you so. Let's see yours." Jeff spreads his cheeks and Jack takes a close look. "Oh Man!! Jeffrey, You need to see a doctor!!" This goes on for awhile but they couldn't decide whose was worse because neither could see their own butthole. Jeff yells out for me to come in and be the bleeding 'rhoid judge. It seemed a bit too gross at the time so I declined. In retrospect I guess I should have because they kept arguing for another week or so-- and it would have been a "Special" memory. Jeff eventually went to the Emergency room for the operation. It was a busy day and all the private rooms were full so they examined him on a gurney in the hallway. They propped his cheeks open and left him there for half an hour before the doc came out and cut the 'rhoids off-- Right in the hall. Nevada-Carson City Hot Springs--Wayne,Aunt Ellen--Silver City Portland--of course! Yamhill st Wayne --some gal from Nev - skinny gal - Essie got home early- Weber was Entering with skinny, hairy butt in the air -- whatever her name was was running down the street - his clothes on the lawn - forgiven. The Caputo place.12th and Hawthorne. mushrooms like streetlamps - light shining down from lamps - --Hurley cartoon - asks Weber to copy --Park, not bucolic scene We had the bus parked on S.E.Ankeny St.at some friends of Jill's from Newton, Mass.College students,two nice girls. The closest bar was the Trolley Tavern on Ankeny and 28th.T'was a funky little joint,there was'nt a straight line in the place. The floor sloped one way, the bar went another way,the pool table was so warped that if you hit a ball just right it would roll in a circle.They had cheap draft beer and gallons of Port under the bar.They were always getting held up. One afternoon Jeff and Richard walked up there for their breakfast beer,walked in the front door and everybody was laying face down on the floor.A cop car, lights and sirens and all,pulls up on the curb right behind them.As the cops jump out with guns drawn,someone looks up from the floor and yells"That's THEM!!!" The cops had poor ol' Jeff and Richard down,handcuffed and in the back of the car before the bartender could tell the cops that it was someone else.They got several free breakfast beers.