What is an Olay?
And how do they get the "Oil of Olay" out of those buggers?
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I was a Doors groupie in their beginnings and every so often I was assigned to accompany Jim on one of his errands, possibly because I looked so whitebread and had no fear of cops (another story) so it might serve as a counterbalance to Jim's various proclivities which often caused him to get side tracked for days. Anyway, we were riding around, it was July or August, and we were in a white Impala convertible with the top down, zooming around Venice like you would expect; Jim drove like a teenage guy from SoCal. Suddenly we screech to a halt in from of a Rexall Drugs and he leaves the motor running and dashes inside. He comes out about five minutes later with a bottle of Wildroot-which in the 60's was a hair tonic/conditioner product
<--This stuff
So off we go, and it being summer in So Cal we're sunburned anyway, and until he mentioned it I hadn't noticed riding around in the convertible was kind of sun burning my arms even more. By now we've gone down Ocean Ave to where it drops down to PCH and we're headed north, going about 65. "Take the wheel!" yells Jim and starts to fumble with the Wildroot bottle. I think this is hilarious and I'm steering over Jim as he unscrews the bottle cap and chugs down a big slug of the stuff! He then pours out a big white glop in his hands and rubs it all over his arms and neck. He takes back the wheel and hands the bottle to me. Noting I'm giving him that "you crazy motherfucker" look, he smiles and says "no! It's good for you! It's made with LAN-O-LIN! that stuff is magic! It's in Camel milk! Drink some! Drink!" I know perfectly well that Wildroot is fucking hair creme, but Jim knows a lot more than me at my tender age. So I drink. It tastes about like if you could imagine drinking conditioner, and trying to look cool, I suppress a gag. Jim laughs uproariously at this, magnified by the ocean wind buffeting us. He motions with his hand "rub it on your arms!" So I do. To my surprise it feels good, smooth and cool. " Great, Jim, great. It feels good. But don't ask me to drink any more." He nods, lost in reverie by this time, not an unusual state for Jim. We glide on the ocean breeze as the blue lapis of the Pacific glimmers like a dream. It was a magnificent interlude.
