It must have been the fall of 76 or early 77, since the Manfred Mann Album; “The Soaring Silence” was released in August of 76. The date is not that important but my friend and I had decided to play hooky, take the afternoon off, take the ferry in to Oslo and go in to his uncle’s health club and work out. We were two young lads out looking for mischief, and finding it. I remember in the locker rooms, where the clientel was mainly grown and middle aged men, that left their lockers open, clothes, jackets and wallets there tempting for a couple of kids – that needed not much tempting to act. Out on the street we found ourselves with a 50 kroner bill in our pockets and smiles on our faces. We ran up to a café’ on the corner of Pilestredet and quickly got us a coke and a wienerbread… What do you know, we just got ourselves a free workout, and some free cash to pay for lunch was the thoughts, even if we knew it was wrong. But the old dude would never even notice 50 kroners gone we convinced ourselves…
That’s when we saw the purse. It was on the window ledge right in the back towards the street. There were no one there and nobody around at all- really nobody but us in the entire café’. We looked at each other and waited. Nothing. The old waiter didn’t pay any attention to us two 14 year olds , and we snickered. We had already started to smoke, and each of us had of course a 10 pack of Prince in our front chest pockets of the Levi’s denim jacket. The jacket was standard, in addition to the long hair, tight Wrangler jeans and squared tipped cowboy boots. We thought we walked on water, us two young friends, even with boots on.
I don’t remember which one of us took the purse, but it was put underneath one of our Levi’s jacket as we scooted out of the café’ and started to run, just run, as we obviously knew that this was very-very wrong. We ran, down Universitetsgata, left on Christian Augusts Gate, right on to Rosenktrantz gate, before walking in to the Bingo they had back then, located in the basement in the building on Stortingsgata. We ran in, downstairs and in to the bathroom in the back. I remember the Bingo very well, I actually won 500 kroner there a year or two later, but that is a good memory, this memory has been haunting me for 35 years or so.
The Bingo hall is busy, but we locked ourselves in to the bathroom stall and look in to the ladies purse. Our hearts beat and we look at each other. We are so nervous, and already regret we have done this. There we looked at a wallet, a passport and a set of tickets-tickets to Brussels, Belgium. The walled is fat as a pig before Christmas slaughter, and we look inside. There is a roll of Kroners, 100 kroner bills, plus a couple of hundred Belgium Gulden bills to go with the tickets. We look at the picture of the young woman in the passport, and know we have just destroyed someone’s holiday. What do we do? We asked ourselves that cold afternoon in the Bingo Hall bathroom stall. We quickly decided that there is no way we can go back. The Police is probably there at the café’ and our young minds decided that we would be put in jail if we go to the police, tell anyone. They will probably find out about our 50 kroner sting at the health club as well. All we can do we tell ourselves, is to take the money, leave the purse with the passport in the bathroom, and run.
After dividing the Kroners, 2000 worth of if and a small fortune back then, we decided that we might as well change the Belgium Guildens as well. For some reason I was picked tom go in to the bank, and they didn’t even look at us as we changed the money in for Kroner’. I was so nervous and my partner in crime was as nervous. We discussed what would happen to us, for sure we would be caught, and put in jail, but it was just to0 late. We might as well spend- it we finally decided. Funny how a young boys thoughts work. The money was now burning a hole in our Wrangler pockets and we didn’t want to get caught with this kind of money on us. As 14 year olds in 1976, it wasn’t much you could spend money on without your parents really noticing, so we quickly decided on going to the record store and buy the latest records.
We had both been at a house party at Arild’s in Kongleveien the previous week end, not sure how we had gotten in as we were much younger than the other kids there, but nevertheless we had been there. Arild had a stereo like a space ship control panel, and had played two specific records all night. Manfred Mann –”Blinded by the Light”, and Eagles – “Hotel California”. “Blinded by the light” had such weird lyrics: “Revved up like a deuce” I thought for 35 years was “wrapped up like a douche”, and “With a Boulder on my shoulder, feeling kinda older” didn’t mean a whole lot to us either, at least not back then. We just didn’t understand the lyrics of that popular song. We had heard that “Hotel California” was about heroin addiction or at least that was what the folks at the house party had claimed, but we were too young to get this. The two albums have of course always been on my mind, and have always been two of my favorites. Maybe because I have always regretted what we did back then, and felt regrets about a stupid bad decision made in the spur of the moment, without chance to make it right.
We strolled up to the record shop in the building located on Dronningens gate, the shop right under the “2002”-jeans shop. We had both been at the “2002”. The only shop where they sold the extremely popular jeans with the same name. The most popular jeans, over 200 kroner per pair, plus they had a bed in the changing area where you could lay down to squeeze in to the pants. The pants had a very high waist, always two buttons and a zipper, tight as you could get them with extreme bell bottom legs. The only difference was the different color models offered. Next to the “2002” shop , or actually on the floor below”2002” there was the record shop and we went in and got the two records we could all of the sudden afford. Still very very nervous, our heart beats like “Madman drummers bummers” and we were so scared that someone had followed us, as crazy as it sounded, but that is how it works I guess. When you know you have done something wrong and there is nothing you can do to correct it. The remorse was eminent, but all we could do was get rid of the money, and throw it away was out of the question, so we started spending it , on stuff our parents wouldn’t find suspicious. . What we most likely needed was a “Silicone Sister, with a manager mister” that could “Turn the two of us in to something strong” We were weak and with shaky legs, to say the least. Before walking out of the store we both looked through the window walls of the record shop. I felt like “ Go-cart Mozart that was checkin’ out the weather chart to see if it was safe outside”. Records in bag we stormed down to the Nesoddboat ferry that took us to safety.
It was Friday, and every Friday night we went to “Klubben”, the youth club that had music and dance every Friday night. Money in pocket, feeling nervous still, but with a burning desire to brag about our “Sting” in the big city that night, we all of the sudden throw money around in the club. Ice-cream, coke was bought for our dishonestly achieve money and the older guys looked at us with suspicion. I lent money to anyone I could find, including my older cousins and his buddies. All I could do was to get rid of the money. I didn’t want it on me or near me.
35 years later, I still remember this day like it was yesterday. This was quick and nothing but a bad decision from a couple of young boys looking for adventure. we didn’t get caught and didn’t have to explain to anyone what we had done. Nobody addressed this with us, but I have always felt bad about this incident. I am sure we ruined the young woman’s vacation, her probably forgetting her purse there in the window ledge. I am sure she frantically looked for the purse with her tickets, passport and probably hard earned and saved up money. She must have felt terribly about what had happened, and wondered where it all was.
For us two punks it was for sure not worth it. We didn’t enjoy the money, and I have always felt regret about what we did that Friday in Oslo 35 years ago. Maybe my punishment was that I have had to live with the regrets and remorse about what I did for so long? When we saw the money, the tickets and the passport we instantly regretted what we had done and wished we could change it, without any way-at least in our minds that day- to correct our mistake. Not there and then-we were too scared to get caught. We would never enjoy what we had done, I guess that is how it works when you get something that does not belong to you, and that you know belongs to someone else? It surely was “Very unpleasin’ sneezing and wheezing, the Calliope crashed to the ground” I guess in our case this meant that the sound of regrets and remorse has been in my ears, “just like a Calliope“….I don’t know, But I do know I have been “Wrapped Up like a Douche”, or more correctly, “Revved up like a Deuce” the way it was meant to be, for over 35 years.
Then again – like I said earlier— I have never been, or will probably never be able to make out the meaning of the song “Blinded by the Light”, or the meaning of “Hotel California” either, for that matter. But it has certainly been a “Souring Silence” all these years
