March 1981

As Keg Man said... life at the 340 was inexpensive.

I had a full-time job. So did Phil. I believe John did also. Randy hustled. We all paid our bills.

John ate like a champ as he could prepare a meal. So could Phil & Randy.

I, on the other hand, went home to my parents for most weekday (i.e. Monday thru Thursday) meals. Other than that I had Coke and an oatmeal cookie for breakfast during the week. Cold pizza and coke on weekends if I got up before noon. I usually ate at a nice downtown restaurant, often takeout at Marion Court, for lunch. Summertime at Penn Square provided spectacular site seeing with a coke, a hot dog and chips. Dinner on weekends would be McDonald’s, microwave tacos (note: early microwaves were at the store with the taco or whatever in a sealed package; we did not have a microwave at 340), Zangari’s South or Lemon Street, the Wheatland Inn, other fast food joints and frozen foods which had to be cooked in the oven (which was too much like work for my tastes). I think I used the stove or oven about three times in my decade on West King Street. Of course, there always was the Rendezvous which provided the nutritious cheese steak, with a couple of cold pizza slices while one waited, and a large Coca-Cola and potato chips. Despite this nutritious diet, I was diagnosed as a diabetic in August 1994.

Of course, on weekends (and, who am I kidding, most evenings) liquid bread was a wholesome substitute for Holsum Bread or, who am I kidding, as a substitute for many meals. Also, spectacular potato chips – Gibbles, Stehmans come to mind – were always just down the street at the corner store.

John, raised hard scrabble where money needed to stretch, used to purchase his beer by the case or cases. Phil, Randy, and I bought ours more on an as needed basis. Often in quarts. We all respected each other’s beer supply which really meant respecting John’s. Cuz we drank what we bought. John, though, drank his beer like water and his cases did not last long either. As a long distance runner (when not biking or lifting) John burnt his beer in such a fashion as to actually extract quality nutrients and retain no impurities.

Phil maintained a nice, functional, clean room; 2nd floor front as he had during the first go round. John had the room at the top of the stairs and, after Sue moved in, maintained his room in impeccable fashion. I used to refer to it as Better Homes & Gardens. Truly, if you sat in John’s room with the AC on and the door closed you could imagine you were in a suburban home or a hotel. However, opening the door reminded you that you were in the wacky, crazy, unpredictable 340 Club.

Randy’s room was truly Spartan. Not much in it besides a mattress and clothing. The mattress was put to good use; usually double occupancy. No one maintained a list of Randy’s partners; no one could. For what it is worth; I’m quite certain Randy has been with over 500 women in his life; a good percentage of them were in the Outpost or 340 Club days.

My room was a mess … once again I commanded the penthouse. The 3rd floor. Two rooms. One to live in – bed, stereo, clothing. The other to store stuff in, mostly clothes, laying all over the place. It was called the annex. I think it was during the second coming when I painted my room black. Ceiling, floors and walls all black. It was so dark that during a 340 bash you could see clouds of cigarette smoke throughout the night. I did not smoke it all emanated from below.

If the 340 Club had been a party earlier (1974-78) it was even livelier now. At any time of day, and I mean that quite literally, you could have a beer with someone.