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We rode up here on the FREELOVE EXPRESS, wearin' bells & beads;
we were a tie-dyed mess. I thought that I was such a bitchin' chick
I wore my hair just like Grace Slick. We were all just drop-outs who
couldn't really do anything that society demanded. But, we could play
rock and roll and I could sing and was a poet. We convinced each other
that if we made it to Frisco we could become big rock stars in no time.
Hell, we had our VW micro bus, our instruments, our talent and enthusiasm.

When we finally made it to Frisco we rapidly came to the
realization that Pscyo - delic music was no longer the big wazoo we had
thought it was. PUNK ROCK WAS THE THANG! Well shucks that was no problem,
we were versatile, accomplished rock muscians, punk rock was really easy to play.
Heck, all you had to know is 3 or 4 chords and play the way you did when you were
just learning in your daddy's garage.
It was garage rock.

We soon found a house where we all could live. The best part about this house
was that it had a fall-out shelter under the garage that was sound-proof and
we could play anytime we wanted without becoming the neighborhood menace. We had
since shed our hippie adornments and taken on the appearance of the COOOOL people.
We got a big trash can and filled it with water and Ritz dye (black, of course)
and put all of our clothing including socks,underwear and even bed sheets into
the trash can. You can never go wrong wearing black.

And, we did it. We started playing and recording and we played
lotsa shows around the Bay Area. We even sold a few records and got the
ever bitchin' thrill of hearing our songs being played on the radio.
It was a real blast.

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