Category: Erik popped out of his yellow Ford Econoline van after he rolled up next to me on the beach. With the exception of his long curly black hair he looked like a businessman in his burnt-orange, wide-lapelled suit jacket and tie, with bell-bottoms and platform shoes. He was the first guy I met when I ended up on Daytona Beach in 1975. Erik’s get-up made no sense, because he basically lived in a bathing suit, t-shirt and running shoes. Erik gestured for me to follow him to an open grill on the beach at the end of Silver Beach Avenue. When we got there he introduced me to a few guys who looked like they’d been expecting him. Erik emptied a bag onto a blanket. The grill was lit and we ate the prime steaks that he just boosted from the Winn Dixie on Atlantic Avenue. We ate in silence while watching the parade of pretty girls, and colorful traffic driving on the beach called A1A. Erik introduced me to Floyd, Terry, and a guy named Franny who were some of the wacky denizens of Daytona Beach that I would end up hanging with during the cold and crazy winter. I also met other characters; however, they were just standard issue folks, just hanging out in town and living in their vans like me. Some had cool rigs, and some were weird looking—like mine.