No, no, no. I don't have to ask to be reminded of the name of the old nutty guy. His name is forever burned into my brain:
Winters!
And don't forget that it was that spring of 1974 when Maharaji gave the rotten vegetables satsang. In fact, I was a transient premie from Chicago at the time and I was living in a premie house on Marion. When we (a few of us Chicagoans) arrived there and sorta took over the house and helped pay the rent for a premie woman named Amy who was attending Denver University.
Long story short was as the snow in the backyard melted a white wooden box made itself visible. It was in the middle of the backyard. I went to look at it one day and inside it was loaded with rotten vegetables, mostly cauliflower. I stunk to high heaven. I took it upon myself to clean it out and throw the rotten vegetables away. This happened, of course, right after the infamous rotten vegetables satsang. Oh, the lila!
