Before It Was Legal — Man, Did We Have Fun!

Roy Karch
When we were outlaws, each of us was working as visual pleasure providers, shooting the images, being part of the debauchery either on or off camera and making the content before it was known as content. Back then, some 45 years ago — before it was legal — each of us faced going to jail. Sometimes even to prison. Anybody remember that? Well, I do. Man, those were the days. Ducking and dodging the law was part of the business, the nature of the job, a risk of the trade. It was just a part of the game.

Before there were silicon infused breasts, teeth whiteners for female talent, blue pills for the male talent, hair extensions and shaved pubes. Before there were HD cameras and widescreen TVs. Before all the agents, PR blasts and gonzo, MILFs and the BTS. Before DVDs, the FSC, Wicked and Vivid and Digital Playground. Before the slow-mo cumshot, 3D glasses, green screens and the clear plastic shoes. Before most of you were born.

Before all of that — when we were outlaws — there was simply the heat. The heat between two people doing the ‘ol in-and-out.

We would meet in an undisclosed location like at a Ralph’s parking lot. As the early morning sun opened the day, one by one cars would begin to arrive. The word had spread through the night where we were to meet. All of us, the cast, the crew, the gear, even the film and videotape stock — the bunch of us, with our cars left behind — would be loaded into a van or small truck.

As Ralph’s market faded into the background, the van loaded with outlaws would surreptitiously arrive at another parking lot, perhaps a Vons, everything removed and replaced into another vehicle, and off we would go into the still early morning, like the porn version of the merry pranksters.

Heading to an undisclosed location, we would drive out of L.A. county. We’d be zigging and zagging our way to a more shooter-friendly county where the various government anti-porn task forces hadn’t yet been tasked with putting us all away.

Quietly arriving at the location so as not to disturb the neighbors across the yard or behind the fence or on the other side of the wall, we would all load in — the gear the people, the food. The location would have no phones.

No way to reach the outside world. No chance for a rat among us to drop a dime. Like a small self-contained army of filmmakers, actors and actresses all there to do a day’s work we prepped the sets that would be shot and selected the costumes that would be worn.

We’d check and re-check the entrances and exits making sure we hadn’t been followed. Making sure that we had a safe hiding place for the shot tape, making sure we would remember later we had hidden it. Lights were rigged, make-up was carefully applied, lines were rehearsed.

Before it was legal there was one standard release form to be signed. It stipulated that the actor agreed to be in a movie that “may contain sexually explicit material” and that any image captured by the producers was theirs to use as they wanted for all eternity. There were no piracy problems back then when we were outlaws. Pirates sailed the seas and we indeed were on terra firma.

As day faded into night and moans the groans were replaced by yawns. The shots got made and the scenes got built, as the tapes were hidden and then found later and stored. Everyone got paid in cash what he or she were due and then the director yelled, “It’s a wrap.”

We finished off the coffee, cleaned up the mess and loaded the vehicle for the ride back to the Ralph’s market where we left our cars some 14 hours previously with a one-day wonder under our belt carefully hidden from … everyone.

Yes, before it was legal — when we were outlaws — man did we have some fun.

Anyone know which Ralph’s parking lot had all our cars? Anyone? Better yet…DONT GET ME STARTED!


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