Steve Manns at one time was one of the hottest golfers in California. He lived in his parent’s garage in Pacific Beach, but hung out in La Jolla and with the Mac Meda crowd. He was unreal on what chemicals and alcohol he could consume and still be standing. Seen here after a 3 day bender in 1975, this one-armed golfer and carpenter (other hand always held a beer, cocktail or was using it to stuff nose candy or pop a handful of white/black/yellow/blue pills) continued to daze even the best with his consumption use.
Stories have surrounded Manns since day one. First, when he took a 14-16 foot nose drive of the balcony at the El Sombero (remember that place?) and landed on a table of four, without spilling a drop of beer. Second, did the same at the Rough Drink and landed on his head in about 12″ of water. And walked away with a little gash in his head – unfortunately he did loose his chemical kit when it spilled all over the rocks …
Oh yes, forgot about this one, pissed off that the sun woke him up, instead of getting curtains for the window, he just black spray painted the window.
Steve died in the mid 1990s …
Photo by Brian Munoz
My Dad. I miss him. He had a huge heart. From him I learned,
Be loyal to your friends.
When you love, love with your whole being.
If you are going to get in a fight, throw the first punch.
Don’t drink.
I was 23 and came to one morning with my girlfriend kicking me in the head with her clogs. I ran out. Then sitting on a beach in Texas of all fucking places, I thought about the shit I had done and the people I was hurting around me. I thought about my Dad Steve. He gave his life to show me the result of travelling the same road. He taught me not to drink by his example. I quit that day, 22 years ago.
He died in 1984, I was 15 he was 39. I love him and I miss him.
Steve and I hung out in 1965 and 66 a lot. I’ll never forget us going to a party in a high rise building in PB and some snotty asshole wouldn’t let us in? It was about 11:30 on a Friday nite so we walked down the hall and Steve said “Wait a minute, we might as well make this a block party!”. and he went over to a pull type fire alarm on the wall and pulled it out. The alarms went off all over and people from most of the apartments came out into the hall. What a cluster!
Steve also has a wonderful dog, Sam; a very big black lab that would wander all over LJ. He was just like Steve big, fun loving and tough. Sam took his share of fur outa other dogs in town just like Steve did. RIP Steve!
Sounds like Mike Reck,consuming all he can get his hands on, then getting on his motorcycle and having it fall over on him in the middle of the street in front of Lattitude 32.What a sight for all who were there.