Before Arnold there were Conan comics...
In 1971 I was sitting at the Pioneer Inn in Lahaina, Maui. It was morning,
and I was waiting for some friends to pull into harbor to sail on their
catamaran. It was a violent time on the island because some Hawaiians
hated haoles (new arrivals), especially if you had long hair.
Sitting at another table was a long-haired tourist who had struck up
a conversation with me after I warned him under my breath not to
agitate the two hulking Hawaiians that were looking at him sternly.
He mentioned that I reminded him of a comic book character named
Conan.
I never heard the name. He said that he was leaving the island,
but when he came back he would drop off some Conan comic books.
I never saw him again, but a stack of Conan comics were in front of
my Lahaina apartment door a few months later.
At last I saw a long-haired
hero who protected women
and who was the best example
of what defined a man for me.
At the age of 22, I had yet to
see an example of a body in
action the way the comics
depicted.
I looked at the
drawings and realized that
someday a Hollywood Conan
would appear and I would
have to know him and be his
friend.
I read the Conan comics and books over and over because I was
living in the jungles of Maui, facing the possibilities of violence and
I needed a "guide." I remember one day while I was alone in the plush
jungle praying fervently to Jesus to teach me to survive as a surfer.
I drove my van to another beach with a luau with about a hundred
Hawaiians having fun. As a long-haired surfer, I definitely wasn't
going near them.
At another part of the beach was a spiritual Sunday feast, set up by
the Krishna devotees on Maui. I went body surfing, and as I walked
out of the water a sexy nose-ringed Krishna lady came up to me with
a huge plate of food. Free food for a surfer, offered to me by a
princess-looking lady seemed very Conanesque! So, I got into
a conversation with her.
I asked why I would have such an affinity for the Conan name
and character. She said that Conan could be my Soul Name.
I had never heard of a Soul Name before and I wasn't the Hollywood
"Conan," so when I joined their spiritual society as a Krishna devotee
they called me Bhakti-Conan. "Bhakti" is Sanskrit and can be translated
as "science of." So I was called "The Science Of Conan."
Krishna living 5000 years ago was a long-haired warrior who loved
women. Krishna's battles reminded me of "Conan," so I joined the
Krishna society to escape from the boring normal world and to be
with that close approximation to women who dressed similarly to
the Conan time-period.
I would live at the temples in Maui, Los Angeles and Laguna Beach,
California. I read my Conan books and comics and practiced my surfing
and swordfighting. I never cut my hair nor wore their temple outfits
in public. The attire for devotees were too frilly, and I was a barbarian
in training. I wore my surf wear.
I moved to Aspen, Colorado in 1975 to live in the Rocky Mountains,
because Conan was a hillman, and my experience on steep inclines
was lacking except for the wave faces I would surf. I dropped my
given first name of "Jack" and introduced myself as Conan. My
passport and license since 1975 has my name as Jack Conan Michael
Angelo. "Jack" is a past life to me. I'm not called by that name, because
most people don't know it, and the name represents the naive part
of me who hadn't ever seen vicious violence before. I never had a
real fight. Nobody has ever challenged me, even when I'd be surrounded
by Hawaiians in Maui or Mexicans in L.A. But I needed the Conan
comic book input to figure out what to do in case something did
break out.
Seven months prior to discovering Aspen, I studied bellydancing,
because I could dance with a sword and be with women who looked
and dressed like characters from the comics. I felt like the comic book
character who had infiltrated into a "Secret Temple Of Love."
My first job in Aspen in 1975 had me walking to work with my sword
to join a bellydancing band and a beautiful female dancer, to entertain
the international ski crowd that would eat at the Sayat Nova, an
Armenian restaurant at the Hotel Jerome. I would make money undulating
before the females in the audience, and I became infamous in Aspen.
Click HERE for more...
