Memphis Underground
In the winter of 1970 my friend Chet and I went down by car from the South Shore to a coastal neck of land guarding Boston Harbor from Atlantic storms. An Irish Riviera in the summer Hull was a ghost town in January. Our dealer Rich had a pound of Lebanese hash. We were splitting an ounce to sell in Boston to our college friends.
We arrived and chilled at our friend’s house, listening to Herbie Mann’s MEMPHIS UNDERGROUND. Jazz funk Stax soul with Muscle Shoals groove. Beer and hash. High as 18 year-olds could get in the 70s.
Then a knock on the door. Cops. A shiver of fear. Possession of hashish was a felony class A. It wasn’t the police. Worst it was Chet’s mother. We had no idea how she found us. Screaming at him, bringing us down. She dragged her son out of there, leaving us both stoned to groove on Larry Corryll’s guitar.
Damn, he was good.
ps MEMPHIS UNDERGROUND was one of Hunter Thompson’s favorite LPS. Mine too still.
pps In the morning I took the bus back to Boston. It was a long ride. Chet’s mother forbad her son to speak with me. His sister picked up his half of the hash. Rebels all of us.