The other day my train car on the L.A.-O.C. line contained a high-quality crazy.
Our hero was large and cheerful, with a lion’s mane of blond hair and a three day stubble. He was accompanied by a friend, who told the conductor he’d “just popped him out of a mental hospital to take home to the wife!” According to the friend, the patient had “been in Atascadero ’cause they thought he was the Hillside Strangler!”
The two men sat behind me and provided a soundtrack for the next hour and a half.
They discussed their destination of Oceanside “Nothin’ but Marines! A guy could go on disability but I’d make more money spinnin’ a sign outside a pizza joint.”
A detailed yet incomprehensible discussion of wetbacks, shotguns, “just nukin’ the jails,” and “Sweet Home Obama” went on for about fifteen minutes. It began when the train went by the downtown Los Angeles jail.
At one point the topic went to the world of entertainment, where my new friend said “you can be Gene Simmons, put you in a robot suit with a stratocaster, down on Venice Beach. Makin’ $900,000.”
Norwalk, as we passed, was “Another sleepy little neighborhood full of gangs. Surfer sacrifice hung up on th’wires.’
Drugs were a big part of the conversation. Some incident involving tweaker women chasing them from a bus stop was mentioned. He was very interested in the possibility of medical marijuana in Oceanside. And, of course, “I could crush up a Ritalin right now with a credit card!”
Southern California geography was covered during a transfer stop: “that way’s San Bernardino. Could start thumbin’ it that way at the end of the world. Rather be in San Luis, millionaires draining out.”
Religion: “He’s the antichrist. Gonna shave your head, make you a Marine, send you out to Fontana. L. Ron Hubbard.”
About other passengers and social anxiety: “I guess people are okay. Better turn me the other way so I don’t see that one guy who looks like a cop, though. I get anxious. Like we didn’t face back against everyone, you know, so we didn’t scare them all.”
And finally love & marriage: “If the husband don’t work and the wife don’t work then it is not a marriage. Love might work. But you know, love is stupid.”
Every single thing that guy said was completely insane and 100% accurate. I should be that good.
7 thoughts on “60 miles of track with a mad prophet behind me”
love is stupid
truer words were never spoken.
thanks for transcribing your trip. felt a bit like i was there!
That’s a just a special kind of Crazy right there… For some reason the image of “Dog the Bounty Hunter” keeps popping into my mind… look and voice…
crazy people may be operating with incorrect premises, but frequently the logic is impeccable. thank you for reporting 🙂
I can only imagine a conversation between this man and Bob Trout.
Fascinating! I agree: true and yet totally bonkers.
Sounds like Rorschach from Watchmen.