Thursday, February 28, 2013


This is a similar view I had from my bohemian apartment.

Old photograph of Boulder, Colorado
My second-story apartment looks like the building across from the third carriage that is going West. 

 Pearl Street Mall


It was as close as I would ever get to living a Bohemian life.

I worked as little as possible and just lived as much as I could.

It was the kind of existence which I had read about in books by Henry Miller, and by other writers and artists.

Like George Orwell’s Down And Out In Paris.


At first, I had slept on the hardwood floor of this bohemian abode close to the front door entrance, then I moved up in the world, and slept on a slab of wood with metal posts holding it up, but so near to the entrance of the apartment that visitors had to watch where they walked or they would plow into it---

Or me if I was sleeping.

My back was good back then


Next, I moved up to the attic---beneath a skylight---and slept on something more like a bed.

At least it was soft.

I climbed a metal ladder to get to this new nest of my bohemian apartment. 

I could climb out through the skylight’s windows to sit or sleep on the rooftop of the apartment.


Below the apartment was a pawn shop, and right next door to this pawn shop was a cowboy bar that played all types of music.

It was called Shannon’s Bar, and later took on a different name, but I forget what it was.

I heard that Bob Dylan and Kinky Friedman sometimes went there to hang out when they were in town.

 I liked it when there was a band playing the blues.

I would order just one beer, and make it last the whole time that I was there.

I’m surprised I didn’t get asked to leave when I didn’t buy more than just one drink, but there were plenty of other revelers doing that.


My life in the apartment was a sedentary one. 

I spent hours and hours reading while listening to a FM classical music station.

It was in this apartment that I had read Moby Dick for the first time.

  I was twenty-four.


To take a break from my reading, I would go downstairs, go outside, and take walks along Pearl Street, or anywhere, just to stretch my legs, and see what was happening in the real world.


One afternoon I took my stroll down Pearl Street, and talked with Moonies, Buddhists, Hare Krishna, Children of God, and Scientologists.

Yes, all during one walk!

I was curious about Scientology, so I went up to the Scientology office, and listened to a guy talk about it.

I wasn’t that impressed

I politely said thank you, and left.


I think it was on this day that a guy with a dog (and not a religion) said to me:

 “I don’t like humans.  Only dogs.”

I agreed with him, and returned to my apartment.



No comments: