Road Trips

I don’t know if I mentioned this earlier but my friend Hauga was a much better artist than I was…my art evolved through training and practice, his was a gift. He never really realized how much talent he possessed (and for the most part wasted). He had so many opportunities that he squandered and could have become Tribal Artist for the Winnebago’s and stabilized his life…but that wasn’t his style. He did carve a Great Bear for the Tribal Community Center and received around $30,000 for the project…he also did a carving on a huge moose rack…it was a complete village with teepees, people, horses, dogs, buffalo, antelope. He got about $25,000 for this project. I don’t have a clue as to what he did with the money, but I'm sure that none of it was spent constructively.

As I recounted earlier, Hauga and I criss-crossed Minnesota, Wisconsin, and the Dakotas, attempting to get “regular” outlets for our art. Hauga was always suggesting these little out of the way places to go on the way to a major gallery or arts and crafts shop. We did nothing on consignment, but sold our art at a price that guaranteed that even if only a few piece sold the owner made money. He carried these two black duffle bags with him always and took one in at each of these “side stops”. I finally got VERY curious as to what pieces he was selling…so I opened the bag, and guess what it was filled with cocaine. I was so angry that when he got back to the car…the bag was sitting outside the car. I told him he could “dump” the rest of it at this stop and ride with me or stay there and look for a different mode of transportation.

He didn’t have a clue that if we were stopped and the bags searched I would be sitting in a prison cell right along side of him. He got the buyer to take the remainder of the bag of his hands. From then on I thoroughly checked each bag to ensure that we were only carrying artwork. It came close to “busting” our friendship forever because I couldn’t trust him.

Over the years drugs cost me a lot of good friends…I had a friend in college who was an ex-Viet Nam Vet. As a requirement for graduation he and I were involved in a mandatory drug education class, he was an ex-heroin addict and had been clean for thirteen years. As a part of the class we were required to go out to schools and community centers and give “drug talks”. He was excellent and got the audience to listen because he was not the Police telling them “just don’t do drugs”. He could talk about the sense of loss when a family member overdosed, or the beautiful young girls that drugs turned into whores. He was so very credible…and then he OD’ed, and died. It was such a tragedy, but it reinforced my understanding that there was so very much power in drugs. I never allowed Hauga to work with me when he was “loaded”, and he became more and more distant. He felt that I was “judging him”, I wasn’t...but I couldn’t condone it…I didn’t want to be around him when he died.

And that’s the absolute truth…give or take a lie or two.

See you next time.