Sylvester The Cat
October, 1974
In Sly Stone's encapsulated universe, life isn't always theater but travel can be. One afternoon late last year, it was a ride from the residential hills through the East Oakland ghetto to the airport. At 98th Avenue and East 14th, his Japanese bodyguard, Turu, Zen cool in leather and aviator shades, punched buttons to send conditioned air whooshing from discreet vents throughout the seven-passenger Mercedes. At a stop light a moment later, Bubba Banks, an old friend, put on an eight-track cartr...
