“There ain’t no spanging on the Sunset Cliffs, the Sunset Cliffs,” a raggedy group of modern day hoboes sang in harmony a capella on a ledge of sand stone carved by the waves of time and countless other hippies and couples in Ocean Beach Calif.
The cliffs, if you have been there are very laid back. Little pockets of people dot the rocky cliffs. Most of them smoking weed and enjoying the signature sunset with significant others and friends. This is also what brought my own little pocket on the cliffs to begin with.
Their tune was magical. The group consisted of a hippy girl in a dress had a nicely decorated road fedora studded with pins and feathers, her friends dreaded hippy and a younger barefoot guy whos were the singers along with the last member of the party a guy with a cowboy hat and large safety pint through his nose.
The odd ensamble were spanging (panhanding) to raise enough money for their old timey’ beverage.
I am proud to introduce to you all the way from Indiana playing two hit singles the Sarsaparilla Fiends!
Sarsaparilla the Song.
Mama’s Little Baby Loves Shooting up Junk