Sexual Humor

I tried to lace We Picked Up with as much sexual humor as the story would allow.  Though much of it is subtle rather than bawdy, there are quite a few lines that still make me erupt with laughter.  At the risk of tooting my own horn, following are four examples from the early days:  Roger contemplating sexual activity at truck stops. “It was fun to scan across the scores of shining, stately trucks and speculate about the number of bare waitresses.” (page 7) The guys shower in a Chicago apartment that has no panes in the window above a bathtub. “I hope that family across the air shaft enjoyed their breakfast with my organ hanging out the window the whole time.” (page 23)  With Archie the drunk, “Hey, Arch—isn’t your wife going to be upset about losing your job?” “Not at all.  She loves me.  Haven’t you ever had somebody that loves you?  Why, when I get home she’s going to take me into the bedroom and rape my fucking body.”  (page  30)  Trying to pry information out of Otto as to whether he got laid or not with Alvah, the Navajo girl. “Come on, man, let the world know: Did you insert your wanger into that beautiful body or not?” “He-he-he!  He-he-he!”  (page 64).  I’ll list more when I can. The more wry the humor, the better.

Should Roger Have Gone to Whittier?

The main question from the previous post is a conundrum that haunted me for over 40 years, as I continued to shape and bend the story into a novel.  Should Roger have gone to Whittier, California, on Day 32 with Otto, for Otto to pursue his interest in Kelly Cooper?  My answer always has been yes. I’ve always regretted not going, and have tried to reason it the other way. But I wind up with the same conclusion. What the heck did it matter, in the big picture, if we went? What was my glitch? The guys worked in a timeless zone and had a wide open agenda. Sure, the trip back across the country was planned and even set in motion, you could say, but what was the big deal? Who was paying us?  Who was setting the rules?  It would have turned Roger into the subservient role, but it only temporary.  As I churn the circumstances over and over, especially in my reflections on the succeeding days, Roger should have swallowed his fucking pride (as it says on page 296) and let the sidetrip unfold.  It would have saved a ton of hardship and misgivings between the guys. It might’ve proved my original point that his so-called thirst for this girl was frivolous. Then again, it could’ve reaped sexual benefits for me. “For all I knew, we could’ve still been there, playing doctor with those girls.  I could have pulled down the elastic of a girl’s panties, reached for paradise and maybe even found it.  Instead, I encouraged this . . . hellraking.” It was because I was too much of a prima donna. Pride got in the way. I had to have things my own way. Something along the miles empowered me. Plus the backwater story of engaging this particular girl (because Otto was spurned by Denise Latourette) was too clear in my mind. I blocked it, and had my reasons. But the more generous gesture would’ve been to let it happen. That one’s not on Otto; it’s on me.

Otto's Jealousy of Roger

One of the tactics I use to build tension throughout the book is Otto’s growing jealousy of Roger.  Otto perceives himself as the leader.  He probably was when we started out. This, despite all the “we” talk that attempts to put them on level footing. Otto really directed our moves and decided how fast we were going to explore each new environment. But as the story fans out, all the extraordinary stuff keeps happening to Roger. It leaves Otto with nothing to do but whistle in amazement (I wanted to say it left him holding his dick in his hand, but I never witnessed that). This would include delivering Starla’s baby; having a relationship with 4 year-old Cecelia in Santa Cruz; getting struck by lightning at Yosemite; and running bare-assed through Big Sur Gorge (which Otto decined to do). By the time the guys hit Southern California, Otto’s feeling burnished indeed. After Roger walks away with the championship Stud trophy in their competition for Cindy and Denise Latourette, leaving Otto behind in the sand without Denise (even though Roger had nothing to do with her absence), that’s the last straw. That sets up the confrontation over visiting Kelly Cooper in Whittier, which Roger refuses to do.  By now Roger is confident enough to dictate his own actions, and calls Otto’s bluff. Roger sees the incident for what it is—a ploy to return Otto into the leadership position. He seems to transcend Otto’s limited framework and is ready to strike out on his own if need be.  I’m glad that didn’t happen, by the way. But that's the way of two pride-filled teenage boys.

The Spirituality Level

I’ve tried to go a long time without saying this, but maybe I’d better, just to make things clear: We Picked Up is meant to be a spiritual book without saying, “This is a spiritual book.”  I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it? For me, the characters’ every step takes on spiritual dimensions. It’s a book about wholeness; it’s about where mind, body, and soul intersect. That’s the channel I attempt to keep the story dialed into. So much of how we live our lives (me included)  is done with smoke and shadows. We build ourselves a giant iceberg of experience, but through fear, only show the tip to ourselves and to others. Only a small percentage remains visible. Ask any actor—it’s really tough to “be yourself.” This story tries to show there are no limits to Self. It intends to reveal all—the quest, the revelation, the desire, the fear, the fulfillment, the heartache; the whole bounty of life. But it does so while staying connected to God and oneself. Rev. Paul Rademacher, author of A Spiritual Hitchhiker’s Guide To the Universe, says in an online interview that on one level, "Spirituality is about intentionally trying to reconnect with those parts of ourselves that we have pushed off.” That nails the aim of We Picked Up. That’s why the narrator says early on, “Call it what you want: sowing our oats, testing the waters, going for the gold, letting it all hang out, whatever. We wanted to do something big, and it had to be now—in this lifetime.” There’s a presence I’m trying to generate, a sense of “now” which equates simultaneously to vulnerability and openness. But when you’re seventeen, you don’t describe it in those terms. The characters explore their own internal worlds by traveling cross country and back. They’re looking more inward than outward. As Rademacher would say, I’m trying to show there is no difference between the dichotomy of material world and spiritual world—that the former is completely infused into the latter.

Where's the Alcohol?

As far as that other vice, alcohol, there isn’t much to be found in We Picked Up.  Archie the Drunk on Day 4 certainly liked his Southern Comfort and nearly caused major havoc. But he is an outside force. As far as Roger and Otto go, neither has much urge to indulge. The whole realm of booze really didn’t cross our minds—not to mention the fact that we were four years underage in 1971.  If anything, Archie’s behavior turned us away from any such thoughts. "Scared us straight," must be the expression. Cindy Latourette at Huntington Beach seemed ready to tip booze. But Roger narrates on page 244, “When she found out I didn’t imbibe, she didn’t hold it against me.  If anything, it increased my stock.” As with many of the other temptations in the “sex, drugs & rock ‘n roll” handbag of excess, you’d be hard-pressed to name the incident when Roger has a beer.  That comes on the way home in the Mojave Desert.  Ted and his fat mother are sitting with a broken down Ford station wagon at a parking oasis.  The first time Ted offers a beer, Roger drinks Coke instead.  But the second time he offers, Roger accepts. The incident passes without further description. I can’t think of a single other place where either of the characters take a drink.

The Sexy Bits

Which part of the book is sexiest?  I’d say there are two nominees: skinny-dipping at Big Sur; and the day at the Grand Canyon with Gwen. Both get my rocks off (that’s why I wrote them). But by using restraint and not being too graphic, I hope to make it look like it could be acceptable reading for all (PG-13 maybe?). With Big Sur, it’s just wonderful sights at a swimming hole with its amazingly natural and secluded backdrop. There is no touching, only fantasizing via the visual. There is plenty of full nudity. I add the mantra at the end, “That is society as it should be.” At the Grand Canyon with Gwen, there’s embracing in erogenous zones of course, but it’s not random nor extraneous—there’s some real feelings being expressed. Roger’s feelings for Gwen are real; the feeling is mutual, and there is hope for them at the conclusion of the story via Gwen’s emotional letter. Notice Roger comes into the book a virgin and goes out a virgin. But safe to say, "There’s some sexual growth along the way.” Of course both Roger and Otto are horny young males . . . otherwise they wouldn’t have had their contest to see who could bag the most girls. But again—even in the contest, a point wasn’t scored for a home run, only getting to first base. One kiss minimum. That makes my story on an infinitely tamer scale than, say, Kerouac. But let’s keep things in perspective: Roger is at least seven years younger than Kerouac in novels like On The Road.

Otto Confirms His Wedding Vows

It occurred to me that when I laughingly turned Otto’s public proclamation in Salt Lake City at the Fellowship Mission of being a Christian into a type of wedding vow (Day 9), by saying all those “I do’s,” that later in the book the idea of being married to Roger comes to light again in more dramatic fashion.  The guys have just made up in Las Vegas with those three famous words, “We picked up,” and continue heading north on I-15 on the return leg.  In the mountains of southern Utah, Roger lies to the cavalier business man by saying they camped out in Griffith Park when really they were in Huntington Beach.  For that gaffe, the cavalier businessman tosses the guys out of the car, perhaps a bit too rudely.  Shocked at his own stupidity, Roger figures this might REALLY be the end of him and Otto . . . “this was deal killing . . . last straw material . . . exit-inducing.” Instead, Otto laughs.  “I’m your hapless bride, Winans," he says. "I finally understand my role.  I’m stuck with you, for better or worse, richer or poorer.  Were married. You make every moment dramatic, turn every step into suspense, but at least it ain’t borin.’ I’m wondering what you’ll pull next.” I was further shocked by his tolerance, and said, “I promise our next ride will be our best.”  That’s when the old school bus stops, and the guys are on their way to the Grand Canyon.