Heavy Fuel

Laughing Gas, or nitrous oxide, has been used as an intoxicant since about ten seconds after it was first synthesized by Joseph Priestly in 1772. That, however, does not mean that by the 1960s laughing gas was regarded as passé. Au contraire since you have to remember that in those days people were trying to dry, roll, and smoke the inside of banana skins. In those days, nitrous was just another established “fun” recreational drug. In those days you could buy a tank of nitrous oxide just by saying you needed it for underwater welding. Yes, underwater welding.

A friend I knew in those days discovered that taking a hit of nitrous “helped” him with his creative writing. In a way he was right. He did create very clever and interesting short stories when he’d had a few whiffs from the tank. Indeed, in the spirit of the 60s drug counter culture in Berkeley and San Francisco, he became convinced that if any drug was worth doing, it was worth overdoing. (A common American attitude that persists to this day.)

He was 24 years old and impatient for fame.

In pursuit of more and more “creative push” from his tank of nitrous, he designed a mask that would fit over his nose and mouth and be held there by some complicated elastics so he could type with both hands while whiffing from the tank.

It worked pretty well and I recall noticing that his writing did indeed get better and more interesting. Right up to the morning when they found him slumped dead over his typewriter with the mask fixed firmly over his nose and mouth, and the tank still hissing away.

He was 24 years old and impatient for fame.

He left behind two binders with his writings in them. The stories were good and full of promise. I still have the binders somewhere. I think.

If not they are moldering in a sub-sub-basement of a Brooklyn Heights brownstone on Pierrepont Street.

He “lived fast, died young, and left a good-looking corpse.” And two forgotten binders of “promising” work.

Too much too soon. Too much heavy, heavy fuel…

When my ugly big car won’t a-climb this hill / I’ll write a suicide note on a hundred dollar bill

Last time I was sober, man I felt bad
Worst hangover that I ever had
It took six hamburgers and scotch all night
Nicotine for breakfast just to put me right

‘Cos if you wanna run cool
If you wanna run cool
If you wanna run cool, you got to run
On heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel

My life makes perfect sense
Lust and food and violence
Sex and money are my major kicks
Get me in a fight I like the dirty tricks

‘Cos if you wanna run cool
If you wanna run cool
Yes, if you wanna run cool, you got to run
On heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel

My chick loves a man who’s strong
The things she’ll do to turn me on
I love the babes, don’t get me wrong
Hey, that’s why I wrote this song

I don’t care if my liver is hanging by a thread
Don’t care if my doctor says I ought to be dead
When my ugly big car won’t a-climb this hill
I’ll write a suicide note on a hundred dollar bill

‘Cos if you wanna run cool
If you wanna run cool
Yes, if you wanna run cool, you got to run
On heavy, heavy fuel

Heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel
Heavy, heavy fuel