But you’re on vacation – three weeks between Christmas and New Years. Freedom. No homework (except the report you’re supposed to turn in when you get back), no deadline to get to bed, no special time to wake up. But . . .there is still curfew. And as long as you’re under 18, you have to be off the streets by 10:00. Especially if you were hanging out in Hollywood, or going to the Hullaballoo on Sunset, or walking up and down Fairfax – standing around Canter’s or running across the street to the Free Press Book Store. After 10:00 the cops come out – and they check i.d.’s – and you can’t get away with the fake one, especially with the Sheriff’s. They had a riot on the Strip just a month earlier, and the cops are pissed – they’ve been hauling people away. Calling parents to fish their kids out of jail. And on a Saturday night, that’s no fun.
But just a couple more years and you’ll be free – you can stay up all night if you want – you won’t have to do anything and you won’t have to be anywhere if you don’t want to. You wonder if you’ll make it to then – eighteen seems like another lifetime and it may never hit you. With your luck you’ll turn 18 and you’ll immediately get drafted, because they Army’s been waiting for you. Being 16 is insane- turning 18 is scary. It’s a coin toss.
Here is an hour’s worth of Humble Harve from KBLA during December 1966 between 9 and 10 o’clock at night – 10:00 being the witching hour and curfew time for everybody under 18 in L.A.