Ray Sr. my Dad, Most Cool Cat
"COOL" by OUR standards, is a mental state, a way of being... controlled emotion, always "Cool"... always "Showin' Class". It's a natural thing.
People have it in all different ways... a "built in knowledge of what's right... and wrong. It's what keeps US separated from THEM. Always. Dig?
Cool 1966
Back in the day, like '66, my Sister Kitty took me to a "basement party", over on the West Side of Detroit, me only 15. It was my first look, guy with big gold earring, black beret... playin' bongo's with Motown 45's on the record machine. I wore my leather, drank a beer, dug all these "Cats & Big Hair Chicks". I was impressed. On the way out I said, "Let's do it again"... she replied, " Long as your not UNCOOL"... so I spent the next 44 years, trying to be COOL. Not an easy task. And I have Lost it, on more than one occasion.
Me Scott Rev. Ray 2010
Next gig was an eviction party, over by Livernois and 5 Mile... We got there as someone rode their NORTON up the front porch steps, right into the living room... didn't much matter, as the drywall had been kicked in by then, anyhow. Went for a "thrill ride" thru the neighborhood, on the back of that Norton 750 Commando... my first motorcycle ride. Cops never came... I couldn't believe it. After that, there was no turnin' back.
One night, way out by Tepoe Lake State Park, some guy had a brand new car, GTO I think... payments and all. He let this Cat they called Edgar take it. I remember standing there, drinkin' Bali Hai wine, in the dark distance we could all hear Edgar, JAMMIN' thru his gears... the guy was havin' a fit.
Pontiac GTO
Lost his Cool, for sure. He got in Ed's face when he finally brought the car back... for his trouble he got a sermon on life, something like, "When it's all over, and your DEAD, you DID it, you LIVED! You don't want NOTHIN' left but smoke..." and so on. We never saw that Cat again.
Bro. Tony (built the devil cycle!)
My shop class buddy, Marty came by one Friday Night on a bad-ass BSA Chopper with welded-chain-sissy bar, I put on my cut-off levi jacket and hopped on... into the night we went. He pulled up in front of a house party on 7 Mile & Hoover... the place was ROCKIN'.
Mike D. Navy (one of my twins)
''Go on in Man'', he said, "I gotta take this bike back, I stole it"... so I did. One step into the front door, someone socks me right back out onto the grass, then a swift kick in the ''nards''. They thought I was somebody, or another... anyway, no harm done. Kid handed me my Buddy Holly glasses... Cool, I said, and walked back home.
Scott my other twin
Marty Lubic... blond, short hair, crazy...cool. An Original. His Dad was a Detroit Cop too. He died in a motorcycle crash on Gratiot near 6 Mile in 1969. One of his Pals came to the house and told my Mom. He was the first of many.
Carolyn Striho Playin with Fire:
Big Rich FLA
