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By Jack Joseph Smith

Big Sur like-a dream In 64 all were Robin without using the bow The Beattle's groupe had done struck it; and I know Sinatra's little Nortra-Dama group just loved it No one knew how far it would lead! The It was just easiasy just fine My Big Sur-Hot Springs dishing washing job was done and it was one hour before being bartender I'd drifted with some sheek ladies But the one I liked was middle class I married her later after I drawn her away From cooking for them But in the immediate way we walked through the Prankster's & Ken Kesie Bus. He was just flattering a bunch of rich kids from outside New York somewhere like Scarsdale But before Kesy was firm there, he certainly did't want to take on anybody else Little Susan had a lot of knowledge & She blushed in the bus so I left I remember kesies shoulders being like a hockey net so low and wide wide were they in his stoop wanting my intrusion to leave He would not have had to support my And no one has ever given Kesie a dime A bit upset I drafted out my 22 or so direction to Susan as we came down the iron rivit stares of that lousy painted bus "Get back to your kitchen (she had none) or to your sea (large cliffs down)" Tend in bar never appealed to me, but boy before Eahlony, Mike Murphy really let me drink I really can't remember if it was my day off, or I just skipped everything in front of everybodys face The swimming was just being set below: The Pinkink banker Jau Fue was dancing the concrete to completion I appoligize Jou Fue I need your Huxley history to be publisheded for my family It wasn't a hole, and it wasn't a reveity, it was the first cavern I'd even seen. He some hpw just came from there , and Jou Fues place was the biggest hat you could thatch like that. Right past the pease in your mind above soarred barry weeds who knew about begins seeweed now off the sand (I guess it's touch to be a poet) Cassady was on the balcony Not to much biilt then but it even had screens: I sware we had black cavarr for an hour:

Original Scan

Page 33

AI Interpretation

GPT

Even in damaged form, the page feels like a loose memory-collage of Big Sur, Kesey-adjacent bus culture, class flirtation, and the half-mythic self-dramatizing atmosphere around Cassady.

The surviving lines move by association rather than stable narrative: music groups, hot springs labor, women, buses, rich kids, Susan, Mike Murphy, Jou Fue, cliffs, swimming, cave, balcony, caviar. That scatter is the point. The page seems to preserve a social scene as it was lived, through names and impressions, before it ever settled into a cleaner story.

Claude

Big Sur in 1964 as a dream. The Beatles have broken through, Sinatra's little Notre-Dame circle loves it, the narrator is about to become bartender, and a walk through the Pranksters' painted bus ends with Kesey's hockey-net shoulders refusing the intrusion. The page builds to the caviar hour on Joe Feng's balcony, with Cassady overhead.