The year was 1978 and a spring afternoon, we met up with his friend Carlos to Teatro Astral. Flaco Spinetta presented his series "The Beloved Spaces" and of course we were going to get us out. We were accompanied by another dear friend, Sergio Alejandro Platini (Photo) it was not heavy, much less, as one might guess from the clothing of the pic. Sergio
was normal for a moccasin, Ricardo Montaner less rocker and more conventional than a Big Mac, but it was our friend and wants them as friends are.
The thing is that in the middle row to get tickets, we began to make conversation (Curt a papo) with a trio of rockeritas typical of the era: dress of cheesecloth, handmade bracelets, hair long and unkempt, little or no makeup and the perfume was a "must" for several years, first in the hands of the Neo-Hippies and after the Stones: The patchouli.
was the same perfume French prostitutes used in the early twentieth century to its customers and also distinguish it as a famous myth of the 70's used the drug to cover up the smell of marijuana.
The thing is that far to participate in the talk, "Gordo" Platini was bored as a fucking oyster. And perhaps taking revenge for some of those items that do not we let Teg end swinging the board with all the chips he was about to attack the latter, or "spent" that was eaten by his musical tastes (some claiming to end time), burst the scene, which was becoming friendly, giving a terse cry with his annoying little voice a few shades above normal: THAT SMELL Patchouli!
everything is rotten! The girls got serious and looked at us with ortho side. We put face: And well ... Gonna 'cer? A friend of ours ... We exits through the forum and disappeared from the scene with tickets in hand, but a disappointment in the heart (And what it did "put together a full" at the time!).
Gordo wanted, wherever you are, for you and for all fans and friends of this blog is this affectionate HAPPY NEW YEAR 2010!
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