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If You Have a Lemon, Make Lemonade Paperback – March 8, 2013
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I met Hinckle at a fundraiser at the (old) Spaghetti Factory in North Beach (the Italian District). He was naturally wary of me, gazing at me with his signature eye patch. It was in San Francisco around 1977, you could still smoke in bars. The side door to the parking lot was dark and was a nice place to take a quick pull on a joint. Hinckle was with Lawrence Ferlinghetti [City Lights Books] (and others) at a costume party. I'm trying real hard to think what the money was getting raised for. It could have been an opening night party for a show. It was enough of a blur.
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I caught Ferlinghetti's cool blue angelic eyes as he said "You are like a hard edged rainbow my son!" It was the night I met Dr. Sausage, an affable black midget who wore a white tuxedo and kept a small, nearly undetectable nickel-plated Colt single-shot Derringer-style pistol, chambered in .22 short concealed in one of his white gloves that sat on the bar was we drank whisky. I reached for the glove that was promptly snapped away from me. "Don't you go-touch that now!" I was a trim boy of 22 with all my dark hair and a red beard and a beret. I was out of my element. I had no basis for any knowledge or opinion about anything. I was trouble but kept it under wraps. It was a good time to party. Waking up in the bed of an advertising sales woman I met, that I had carried home to her apartment. —Joseph V. Coniglio