<![CDATA[<a href="https://www.youtube.com/v/WEC8zdJW2vQ" target="_blank" rel="noopener noreferrer" class="bbc_link bbc_flash_disabled new_win">https://www.youtube.com/v/WEC8zdJW2vQ</a>]]>Some lad had quite the experience.
"I remember (all too well) going to the Academy of Music in NYC (14th st) to see Robin Trower, Spooky Tooth, and Peter Frampton in the early 70s with a friend. We did not have tickets but my friend knew someone who got us through the doors. I met a pretty girl with a Grateful Dead T-shirt and we talked a bit. She gave each of us a hit of windowpane and sheech, it must have been an 8-way hit. We sat through Robin Trower's act and then the acid kicked in. We were blown away and both of us melted into our seats. Spooky Tooth was next, and when they played "I Am the Walrus" it was unforgettable. Then, during their concert, I felt something poke my shoulder. It was a dude who actually had tickets for the seats that we were in. As it ended up the show sold out. We had nowhere to go except in the lobby. I ended up losing my shirt somehow, and with nothing to occupy my brain started freaking out. We left the Academy and just wandered around lower Manhattan. We met a bunch of prostitutes asking if we were "going out boys," but they had no idea of how far-out we were. Long story short, we ended up in Belview Hospital and just waited it out. I finally made it to the subway, and from there to the LI railroad and I never felt the train touching the tracks. I got off the LIR in Mineola, got my parked car, and c a r e f u l l y drove home in the afterglow. I got home about 6AM and went to bed where, of course, I could not sleep but I was tired as could be. My dad came into my room at about 9AM and asked me if I had a good time last night. I told him that I did (what else could I say!). He said, "I bet you did, you left your car parked in the middle of the street.""
