I was at Kewalos today trying to shoot more of my surfer project when I was confronted by Morgan Montana. Morgan saw my camera (which he declared was worth over $50,000…how wrong he was) and wanted me to grace him with a photograph. Oh the power of a 4×5 camera.
Morgan, who aura wiffed of tall boys and Mickeys, recounted a story of history, celebrities and fame, which very few could be capable of obtaining.
As I spoke with Morgan, who I slowly found his real name was Lenny, I was told of a sailboat of great girth which entertained local prostitutes, Lost celebs, and the female undergarments which flew freely from the masts of his vessel. Morgan/Lenny spoke of engagements on the mainland with Kid Rock and Sheryl Crow and others details too interesting not to believe.
He recalled a bar in Colorado where he slugged the Kid for mouthy behavior and watching Mt St. Helen’s trumpet around his life.
He also spoke, with glassy eyes, about time spent in Vietnam (he did say he was 57 which actually makes him of proper age) and lives lost and taken. He described life as a tunnel rat, of women’s screams and lives lost at his hands…of Agent Orange, of snakes, and friends who still remain hidden within the bush.
He told me of “gook” heads skewered on bamboo as warnings, of life taken with no regret. Of mothers holding their children and his M-16. He chattered about life and death with candor. As if nothing was worth but his eyes felt it was…
But back to those bars he so quickly returned to, his boat, his pose, and his scrap with Kid Rock.
Life for Morgan consisted of cheap drinks, long hair, and a history full of fun, death, sailing, and living. Is a far existence away from jungle rot, cans of MREs, and killing someone you don’t know.
At the end of the afternoon, Morgan hit me up for some dough. I coughed up $5.00. I got a polaroid out of it.
You be the judge…was it worth it?