30 Years in a Housetruck

Page Six: Going Away Party

As the departure date for leaving the hell-hole and human-zoo of LA drew nearer, I began selling off and otherwise unloading my possessions that I would not be taking along. Things like the huge round-tube RCA color TV, a good sized load of hardwood dunage I picked up from empty rail cars down in the industrial districts, and the spare engine for my Rambler. I also sold my electric guitar and let the contract expire on my rented piano.

Someone, probably Fat Frank, decided that I needed a "going-away" party. I think it was Frank, because I seem to remember most of the guests being his friends. I wasn't really looking forward to having a whole house full of people, but since I'd be moving soon, it didn't seem to be too much of a risk. I was concerned about word of my four track recording studio falling on the wrong ears, and getting a nefarious visit by undesirables.

At any rate the party was on April 1, 1975. There were two refrigerators full of alcohol (my regular fridge, and the RV reefer that wasn't installed in the truck yet). About all I can remember of that night was lots of too loud music and some very forward woman who was intent on teaching me how to down tequila shooters.

I had informed my landlord that I would be moving out and that I was applying the security deposit towards the last month's rent. Naturally, he was concerned that the condition of the house was adequate, so I sent some time scrubbing the kitchen floor and making sure that my waterbed hadn't leaked in the bed room. Frank approached the landlord, and worked out a deal that allowed him to move in when I moved out.

Since there wasn't enough room in the truck for all my furniture and appliances, I "loaned" Frank my couch, living room rug, refrigerator, washing machine and kitchen stove. Of course, I was never paid for this, and never saw any of it again.

(I've been doing some research on this topic, mostly reading old letters that I wrote to my mother. When she died, I inherited a box full of letters, apparently every one that I ever wrote to her. It's actually an interesting chronicle of my life told to me by myself.)

Last week while digging through another box of old papers, I found the original floor plan for the Housetruck, and at least some of the construction paper cutouts that I made to allow me to try out various interior layouts:

The large yellow area at the top is my sleeping loft, five feet off the floor, with my desk beneath. I had originally planned a bathroom, with a shower and toilet combined in one enclosure, just to the left of the kitchen. It was never completed, as I found after living in the truck for a while that I wanted/needed more kitchen counter and storage space. Besides, who needs all that steam in the house, anyway?

The narrow red line on the right is the entry door. I had (still have) two old metal and leather office chairs which were going to be used on either side of the table that was also never built. I'm actually sitting in one of the chairs right now.