We love you, Farf!
Hi Patty,
Taking a cue from your awe inspiring mapping of the Stockton crimes, I created either a ‘Squeaky Walking Tour Map of Stockton’ or a Manson centric board game called ‘The Red Zone’. Wanna play? Just like being in the family, you now have no choice so follow along.
You start by arriving via Greyhound bus at the terminal located on Center Street. You then proceed to walk the sixteen blocks to the Flora Street home because your friend was too tired and driving to the station to pick you up, would be a hassle.
The house is a flurry of activity with frantic ad hoc carpentry (shovel handle sawing), gardening and a crying baby beginning to grate your normally steady nerves. Perhaps a walk to get some fresh air to try and clear your mind would be in order. Roll the dice of life and take a chance on what will be your destiny.
After nearly six blocks, you realize this isn’t working and notice there is a market on the corner just ahead. This would be a discreet place to purchase a couple items which would take the edge off of being ignored by your friend Brenda in the form of a package of tampons and a fifth of vodka to soak them in.
The cashier asks if you would like some modeling glue or spray paint to go with your purchase and you enter…… ‘The RED Zone’.
That’s enough! You grab the first payphone and call those ingrates and demand a ride back because you’re mad as hell and aren’t going to take it anymore. The phone is answered and before thinking, you demand a ride from the liquor store in a move so ironic, that Otis Campbell feels amateurish.
From the corner market to the slammer on Market Street, you are finally given that ride which you have been denied since landing on the sovereign soil of Stockton. Sure you’ll spend and unknown amount of time in a lesbian fuelled container of hot messes, and charged with murder, but it’s worth it.
The game ends across the street from where it all began and where you will say farewell to Stockton and what will later be known as ‘The Lost Weekend’. You venture to other destinations in life while gleaning some satisfaction knowing that you weren’t able to tell Brenda, that it was discovered she is the lovechild of Stan Laurel and Delores Taylor.
Sincerely, Farf
