Roma, Fellini, and Cinecitta

Can * nois * seur ( kan' us sur' ) n. one competent to render critical judgement on the qualities and merits of cannabis

"The most amazing property of cannabis is its ability to fog the minds of those who do not use it."

HEADS UP: A week or so past i had occasion to sample variations of Chem Dawg at 3 seperate dispensaries. Sparc at 9th and Mission here in San Francisco had something called Chem 91, while a few doors down Re-Leaf  had (and still has) a strain named Chem Mix. A visit to Grass Roots yielded Chem 1. It was a rare opportunity for a quality comparison.Of the three, the moderately priced Chem Mix at Re-Leaf proved to be a best buy, clear and high with a long smooth arc.
To be sure the Chem 91 at Sparc was most powerful but lacked the clarity.
Grass Roots's Chem 1 was good but a tad mild.
The good news is that Chem Mix is probably still there..

PROPS: Medithrive's delivery service is first-rate and their consistently fine, high-quality herb takes the guesswork out of ordering. Check out their menu online at Medithrive.com and call 415 562 6334


ROMA:1970

The Eternal City is well named. Five years after my first pass, i was back in the place where i met Lady M, and everything i remembered was still there: cafes, the English cinema, outdoor restaurants, nooks, crannies, broken bits of sculpture, patches of frescoes, stone carvings everwhere, the pulse of movement both knowing and laconic...Rome's classic style now leaned in favor of very long hair, neck chains, suits with open shirts.. actually nothing that drastic for the Romans who never quite adopted the  buttoned up Brooks look, and deigned to emulate the Carnaby Street style.  (The London fashion mecca.of the sixties.) At the moment hair was very much a political statement. Class revolution was in the air.The progressive, unionist, non religious, factions were rising, and left leaning workers seemed to prefer...mullets.
Fashion however, was not my problem/ We were ensconced  in a small hotel in the center and my money was running out. Every day we went out looking for the famiar Affiti sign which meant there was a place for rent. In the midst of our daily quest two things happened which were both significant-and typical of the mystical conjunctions that made that era magical.  We had taken to reading the Rome Daily American for possible apartment leads, or even acting work. There were lots of movies being shot in Roma at the time. One column revealed that American performer Shawn Philips had written the music for an Italian film and was in town for the studio recording. Now Shawn was a friend from the early East Village days so i tracked him down. It was a warm reunion and after attending the actual full orchestra recording for the film we went to lunch with Shawn's pals, two Americans living in Rome. Don was a medical student and Nancy his wife was a secretary at at a local film studio. Tall, lanky and muscular, Don shared my enthusiam for the herb and had vague hash connections. He was also a dedicated Zepplin fan. Nancy and Don lived on the periphery and traveled by motorcycle. We became fast friends  but living in a hotel and eating out was nibbling at my funds. i started to consider returning to New York.
Until another of those synchronistic conjuctions popped up. Meandering through Piazza Navona one morning we ran into John Hohnsbeen, our expat beach pal from Tangier. Over coffee i mentioned we'probably couldn't hold out and would be leaving Rome.
"How much do you need?" John asked.
"About a thousand dollars," i estimated.
He shrugged. "I'll lend it to you. Pay me back when you finish the book."
i was astounded. Sure enough we met the next day and he gave me the cash.
"Man," i said, "You fly in from Tangier like Superman..."
John smiled. "Think of me as the Good Fairy."
Things began to click after that.
Operating under the theory that the owners of local pensiones would have apartments available, i checked them one by one. In no time i scored a three room apartment with terrace, around the corner from
Piazza Navona. The place was on Governo Vecchio, the old street leading to the Vatican. There were drawbacks, one of which i knew going in. The only heat was a kerosene heater in the bedroom. And Rome gets cold in winter. The second i didn't know until moving in. We had seen the place at mid-day when everyone in Rome was having their post lunch nap. The first morning i found out
Directly across the narrow street was a motorcycle repair shop and the motors started revving early. No matter, i was where i wanted to be.
Determined to come through i sat down a got to work. i went back to basics: 1) a writer writes every day--one can't wait on fickle inspiration. 2) write about things and places you know.
So i began writing about a man who leaves his cushy New York life behind and goes on the road. Doctor Orient hops a freighter to Tangier, Ischia and Rome in pursuit of enlightenment.
My new hood was quite hip if not upscale. Serious American sculptor Bob Brennan was down the street as was the model Luna and Peter Gonzalez, the star of Roma, Fellini's film in progress. Other expats preferred the party scene to the work ethic but i'd been there done that. i hunkered down and as winter deepened Raga Six began to take shape...

NEXT: La Dolce Vita

Edited by Robert Gilman