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Bearly Sane~Tales of the Brahma~
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Saturday, April 16, 2005
3:46 AM
Thursday, April 07, 2005
1:02 AM
Monday, February 24, 2003
Pre Max Load
The year before circumstance gave birth to the MAXIMUM LOAD, Larry (the Brahma) played drums in a neighborhood band on E.31 St and Ave. K (Brooklyn) called THE THIRD RAIL, ably managed by Wavy Davy. Around the corner on E.32 St. Richie (The Swede), home for the summer, was joining a band that was being formed, named to my recollection, THE PLACE IS ON FIRE. This name would unfortunately be prophetic, although the circumstances were suspect to say the least!
The Third Rail was practicing for the big “Battle of the Bands” at the local Jewish community center while The Place Is On Fire (TPIOF) was preparing for a Saturday night gig at a local bar named “Freddy’s” on Flatbush Ave. After weeks of rehearsal, TPIOF gathered for a last tune-up the night before their Freddy’s debut. It was at that time they chose to inform the other guitarist that The Swede was working out so well that they no longer required his (was his name Don?) services. Needless to say, that “tough” decision at that late date caused more than a little animosity from the now former member.
They spent the better part of the night yelling and arguing….pointing and blaming…then arguing some more. Then Don(?) packed up his guitar and left. His last words to the band were, “AHH!…I hope the fuckin’ place burns down!” as he stormed off the block. He was really steamed as he peeled out. Too pissed off to just go home, he stopped off at Freddy’s to have a few rounds and maybe cool off a little.
The alcohol wasn’t mellowing him out at all. It’s probably for the best that I can’t remember this guy’s name, because I don’t know how many drinks he had consumed by the time he had to use the men’s room, but while he was in there he got the bright idea to set the toilet paper on fire before he left. I really don’t think he went in there with that in mind… I think he said “something just came over him”…(the Devil made him do it?)...but then again….
The next day when TPIOF gathered that afternoon, relieved that the big confrontation was behind them, they got the news. Freddy’s had burned down the night before. Nobody was hurt thank God, but the place was a mess and would be closed for the duration. Shock and disbelief ensued. “WOW... Don said he hoped the place burned down. And it did.”. After the initial shock wore off the same words were said with a slightly different meaning. “HEY…Don said he hoped the place burned down… AND IT DID! THAT SON OF A…”
I don’t think it was very long before Don confessed…. Not to the police of course, but to his former band mates. It was too obvious and he may have been confronted with their suspicions, but he was at least safe from being handed over to the law due to the adherence of the Brooklyn “code of the streets”, which at that time forbade one from turning his friends or acquaintances over to the cops.
As for The Third Rail, they came in a prestigious 2nd in the two-band competition. But friendships were formed that summer that shaped the next few years. The Third Rail, always a loose bunch ready to go with the flow, decided that was a good night to include members who had never played with them before! One of the new members joining them at some point in the evening was Kasha, playing a baby grand piano. Just to keep things interesting, the other new member was a second drummer! Bob Stomatas from TPIOF! With Mike Aiese, affectionately known as “Armpits” for reasons long forgotten, playing bass, it was just a few adjustments and the addition of The Swede that would form the basis of a group that would go nowhere, but took an interesting and fun path to get there.
2:36 AM
Saturday, February 22, 2003
Another Path Not Taken
I've tried to edit the previous entry to make it presentable, but alas, it won't permit it. So, on to the next entry.
It was 1973 when the Brahma & Brahmarina began their cohabitation. February 9th in fact. They thought it was the 7th until they checked the '73 calender this year. They lived 1 block from the beach at Brighton, Brooklyn, with three friends as roomates in a large apartment. One of those roomates was the infamous, (in south Brooklyn) Arty Party. Arty, true to his name, loved to party! Very often these parties would require particular substances to fuel the air of jockularity, and as they say, let the good times roll. It was then that his proximity to the Brahma became most convienient.
Arty Party would disappear into the night, his time of return uncertain at best, once going to Holland for six months or so.....returning with tales of international intrigue (leave it at that). At the particular time of which I speak, he was spending his weekends in Manhattan, hanging with a group of sketch comiedians that would perform at The Top Of The Gate in Greenich Village on Fridays & Saturdays in a show sponsored by National Lampoon. Arty would beg the Brahma to join him. He said one of the guys did the greatest impression of Joe Cocker that you could ever imagine. "It's amazing", he said, "he actually becomes Joe fuckin' Cocker! You gotta see this!"
the Brahma & Brahmarina were having their own little soirees in their new abode and didn't care to travel in to "The City" as Manhattan proper is refered to by native NYers. Besides....the parking, the crowds, the having to leave the house....they always had an excuse. Week after week Arty would return with rave reviews and another request for their attendance. They never went.
By now you may have figured out that "Joe Cocker" was in reality John Belushi and the members of the weekend show went on to become the stars of Saturday Night Live. And now you know.... the REST of the story! Actually....it's probably for the best that Belushi and the Brahma never met. Not just for their sakes... For all of us. This way we at least got to enjoy Belushi for a little while....AND...the Brahma still walks among us to this day.
2:09 AM
Friday, February 21, 2003
The Maximum Load 
From left: Wavy Davy, Kasha, Leslie, the Brahma
Photo by Bongo Johnny
The Maximum Load was formed in the summer of 1968. They first began playing in the back of a '63 Dodge Dart (with a pushbutton transmission), to a very limited audience. By the fall of that year they were recording in the basement of bandmember, Johnny Z, on a nightly basis. The recordings included covers of some popular songs of the times as well as original material, and crank phone calls. Some copies still exist today. Eventually, founding member Les,(standing in photo above) left for school at S.U.N.Y. Buffalo. This opened up a space in their cramped studio, as well as their musical direction.
Larry had met this guy Richie, who not only played a pretty mean guitar, but actually OWNED REAL EQUIPMENT! The only drawback was that he attended and resided most of the year at Norwich Military Academy in northern Vermont. But during his home visits he would sit in and hang out with the guys.
Now, this was a time of great changes in our country and a true crossroads in all of our lives.There was very little "middle ground" to stand on. It was well known that upon graduating from a fine intstitution like Norwich, your next stop would be Vietnam. That fact, and the opportunity to play with a superior guitarist, led Kasha and Larry to devise the mantra "music is fun; school's a drag" to help Richie choose the life of a vagabond musician.
1:06 AM
Thursday, February 06, 2003
A Story From the Kasha Files
I would have prefered to have Kasha write his own memories of this, but until such a time, I offer the following account for your preusal. Some of you may be familiar with a movie about the music festival at the Esalen institute in Big Sur, CA. The movie is called, fitingly enough, "Celebration at Big Sur", and features performances by Crosby Stills Nash & Young, JoanBaez, The Staple Singers and Joni Mitchell plus a few others. A high point of the movie is Baez with the Staple Singers doing "Oh Happy Day"
As Kasha told it....(*fade in*)...It was a beautiful day on the California coast...a perfect day to roll a few bombers and hit the road with thumb in the air to see what the day would bring. Not having wheels of our own, that was something we often did to get around, plus it's a good way to meet people.
Kasha hit the road early, heading for the Coast Highway. Undertaking such a venture would bring daydeams of the perfect ride. This would usually involve a van full of women with lots of beer and pizza. But that hardly ever happened! However on this day he would have the next best experience. As he stood by the beach waiting for a ride, a fancy Italian sports car, Mazeroti or Lamborghini, pulls over and opens the passenger door. Kasha hops in and they take off down the coast.....only to discover that the driver is David Clayton Thomas, lead singer for Blood Sweat & Tears.
Kasha stokes one up and passes it to Thomas, as they start talking. (I need Kasha to provide the details of the conversation as he remembers it...) When asked how far he was driving, he tells him that he's going to Big Sur for the music festival, that Kasha was oblivious to, and invites him to come along. Plus he whipped out a little mirror and straw with a strange white powder on it. Kasha must have thought he caught the mother of all rides as they rooted & tooted, and huffed & puffed their wat south.
At some point, he pulled into a parking lot and another, fancy sports car, pulls in behind him. It was Thomas's "friend"
who came up to the driver's side to ask if he needed any more. This guy had his own personal connection that traveled behind him to make sure that he had enough on him to party, but not so much that he would be in deep doo-doo if caught, if he couldn't ditch it first. Plus the friend claimed to be the half brother of a major T.V. star that I won't identify for legal purposes.
I think he said that he and Clayton Thomas were also taking swigs from a silver flask as they sped down the road. They were aproaching Rt. 84 which goes over the coastal range to La Honda and points east. Both roads were one lane for each direction, with a string of cars waiting to make a left turn ahead of them. Instead of waiting at the end of the line for the car in front to make the turn, Thomas guns it as he moves over to pass. The lead car starts to make the left turn just as they get there, with the Mazorotti smashing into his front left fender.
The driver of the turning car is all right, as he gets out shouting about the stupid bastard that pulled such a stupid move. When he calms down a little and they exchange drivers licenses, he realizes who hit him. While there are some who would think...Mazorotti....David Clayton Thomas.....his fault....Ca-Ching!....Payday!.....this guy was so "star-struck" that he actually apologized.....taking the blame for the whole thing! All he did was try to make a left turn with nobody aproaching from the opposite direction, when a drunk, stoned out, millionaire douch-bag pulled out to pass him....but he apologized! I wonder if he had misgivings about that one.
A rumor of a then rare appearance by Bob Dylan brought large groups of people to the front gates of Esalen looking for tickets. Thomas took Kasha in with him for the week-end long event. For reasons known only to him, if indeed there was any reasoning at all, Kasha stayed just the one day. Those who know Kasha personally ("The Indian" on this site) know that a reason is not usually needed, or at least not provided, for his decisions. Perhaps he'll see this and fill in much of the blank spaces. If you're someone who knows Kasha personally, please send him this way? In the interest of accuracy.
11:27 PM
Wednesday, February 05, 2003
3:06 AM
Thursday, January 30, 2003
April 22, 1970
On the very first Earth Day, April 22, 1970, our merry band of musicians found ourselves invited to play at Union Square in NYC during the festivities. Not on the main stage, where all the nationally known acts were scheduled, but in a giant plastic bubble on the opposite side of the square. The bubble was about the size of a football field with a very high roof. It was kept afloat by giant fans pumping air into it. Unfortunately, we were invited on such short notice that we couldn't get Mike Aiese (Armpits), the bass player, to come in from Brooklyn. So The Swede would cover the bass line on his guitar while Kasha and I would jam, but when he took his leads the bottom would fall out because nobody else had equipment that was strong enough to hold the bass line down.
The problem was; how do we get our equipment up there from the Village? After all, it WAS Earth Day and motor vehicles were prohibited. We enlisted the help of our good friend and occasional roadie, Eric Latish, to get us as close as he could. SO....here we come, pulling up to Earth Day in a 1969 Roadrunner with a 409 cu. in. engine! When we got to where the streets were blocked off, Eric pulled up to a cop on duty to ask for safe passage. The cop looked at us like we just landed in a spaceship, as Eric tried to explain the urgency of our request. As if we couldn't get there, the whole event will have to be canceled! The cop tells us in essence, no fuckin' way! Even if he could let us drive in, the radical element in the crowd might have rolled it and burned it, or at least trash it and us!
We had to carry our stuff in and set up on one side of the giant bubble while Bongo Eddy and his light show worked from a platform behind us. The other side of the bubble had another band and light show playing, but it was so large that we didn't interfere with each other. The whole contraption was the invention of the Hog Farm and Wavy Gravy. During our last set, I crawled under the platform, for some unknown reason, as we jammed. I came upon a group of people sharing smokeable substances under there. They were glad to have a musician, particularly one who was playing at that exact moment, join their little group. As I continued playing, they would take turns putting pipes and joints in my mouth. Suddenly I realized; here I am in the middle of Union Square, playing an electric guitar while people took turns supplying me with an endless amount of THC. What a Country! Even now, when I pass through Union Square (a rare occasion now), I think of that and try to figure out exactly where I was sitting that day.
Now so many years ago...
10:12 PM
Monday, January 27, 2003
Later that life…. It was almost 25 years later when the Brahmarina & I drove 600 miles through snow and rain to attend one of the most unforgettable shows in San Francisco’s history. We had just spent the better part of 6 weeks in Eugene Oregon, thanks partially to a broke down transmission. Not that I’m complaining…. it died valiantly, in the line of duty. We had driven from Eugene to the wild backcountry, coastal range of California’s famed Humboldt County and back. I suspected that the off-road steep driveway of our friend’s house had taken a toll on it, but we were all loaded up and didn’t want to try to find repairs till we were well out of the area.
We kept a steady pace up the Coast Highway, eating on the run (a van set up as a camper), stopping only for gas, engine running the whole time. The biggest worry was at the Oregon border where we had to take Hwy 199 up through the mountains to I-5 in the central valley. We didn’t dare turn the engine off in fear of it not starting back up. We were determined to make it back to Eugene, where we had places to stay with friends who expected us back. Like the true warrior that ’71 Dodge van was, it worked its way up the interstate, accompanied by clangs and moans, finally grinding to a halt….. but not until we had arrived directly in front of our friend’s house!!!
But Oregon in the winter usually means rain. Not torrents, but a steady rain or at best an overcast day was always in the forecast. We hadn’t seen sunshine in a quite a while. It didn’t prevent the local populace from participating in outdoor activity though. People bike all over the place…high school football games get played in the rain and mud…and Eugene is known as a “runner’s” town, being the hometown of Steve Pre-Fontaine, a legendary distance runner.
But not seeing sunshine can be depressing….. by the time new year’s eve was rolling up, we were ready to move on. Besides, The Grateful Dead traditionally ended the year with a series of shows at the Winterland Ballroom, culminating with the New Year’s show. The two years prior we had attended all of them. We would meet up with friends that would pilgrimage there from all over the country, crash somewhere together and have an all-round major blowout. But this year was to be the last! Winterland was scheduled for demolition after new years ….the last show there ever.
I’ve had the pleasure of seeing them in many venues, from one end of the country to the other, but I always felt that Winterland was like the Dead’s home ballpark. There was nothing else quite like it. It had that “at home” feel about it. Seeing them there was like seeing the Yankees in Yankee Stadium. Many local musicians would show up, to watch or to perform with them. But this night…. this would be a very special night. The end of an era. And in case there was any doubt, The Blues Brothers were going to open the show!
But tickets to this gala event would be near impossible to get at any price. With all rock royalty and their entourages calling in favors, the rest of us were forced to scramble for leftovers. Like the Subgenius theory of “Slack”, the tickets came to us. One of our friends that we hung with in Eugene had weaseled her way in to the good graces of the Dead’s “family”, in fact knowing Jerry Garcia himself after worming her way backstage at a show in Portland. She would later become very close to the whole scene and personally introduce us to The Fat Man himself…first bringing him to our house(!)… then having him invite us to his house! (a whole OTHER story…)
Our friend, who I shall refer to as Shorty for purposes of this discussion, placed a call to the Dead’s office in San Raphael, CA to secure three tickets that were to be left at the box office for us. Shorty was mixing sound for a local group that was making its farewell tour, the last show being scheduled for New Years Eve out on the Oregon coast! We were to travel down there and pick her up at the bus station in San Francisco on the morning of the show. She told her band not to count on her for the last show, but that didn’t sit well with them, as finding a replacement in a small town on the coast on New Years Eve no less, would be impossible. Besides, it was their last show ever…how could she abandon them?
We made the trip south, deciding on the shorter but higher mountain pass road, I-5, even though the weather had been rough as of late. We steadily climbed the icy mountains as practically the only vehicle on the road. Miraculously, as we crossed the California border, we felt the first sun on us in 6 weeks. We knew right then that despite considering living in the Eugene countryside, we needed that California sun. But before too long we were entering another storm, this time accompanied by high winds. The usual 10 hours drive was considerably longer that trip.
MEANWHILE, BACK IN OREGON…
Without going into too much drama…she couldn’t decide what to do. Even as she waited for the bus, getting on it remained but an option. But nature played its hand in the matter. I was never sure on the exact details, but she didn’t get on that bus. One story says she decided to stick by her friends and stay. Later that night the bus she was to get on ran off the road avoiding a downed tree. Another version claims the bus ran off the road before it reached her stop, as did it's replacment! I like the first version better, but in all honesty, I can’t doubt the second one
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Never the less, she called us in S.F. and told us all 3 tickets were ours…. if we could get them without her! Yeah right…. on any given day of a Dead show there were hordes of people looking to get in by way of any scam that would work. Why would they think that we weren’t among them? We were to try to convince the woman in charge, Queenie, that we were the rightful owners of those tickets. Shorty called ahead to try ease our task. Although we could have asked for almost anything in exchange for that third ticket, we offered it to a friend who flew out from N.Y. for the show.
It was pandemonium for two blocks in any direction. Our friend kept insisting that he could scrounge his own ticket from his backstage connections, but that turned out to be false. Meanwhile, Queenie looked at us and handed over three tickets, with people salivating for them all around us. Our stubborn putz of a friend spent so much time trying to prove he could get his own ticket that we missed the beginning of The Blues Brothers!
But…. we just missed a little. We went down to the front left, where we met our usual crowd. Some of the people we only saw when there was a Grateful Dead show! The Blues Brothers were just fantastic. And I have the videotape to prove it! If any one would like a copy, just e-mail me!
Very often the Dead would fall short of expectations on a big night. But this night, they came on full throttle. The place was packed beyond legal limits. Bill Graham rode in as father time at what was called mid-night…though it was probably 10 after. He was propelled from the balcony on a wire in a giant paper mache joint that represented the stroke of midnight as he landed. Strangers hugged and danced together, many known to each other only by sight from past shows. Part of the floor in the lobby gave out to the constant dancing that night. Sacraments were being passed around…well… like wine! Among the regulars at Winterland was a group that always took over the front row center balcony, probably to make a good tape. For years, they displayed a banner that counted the days since the last time the band played “Dark Star”. I think it was at around 1400 days at the time. But the band came back for a third set of the evening, which was now early morning, by opening with the rarely played Dark Star to the utter excitement of all.
When the set was over the band came out for one last bow on its’ favorite stage, as the Winterland staff provided breakfast for everyone. All 5000+. We ate and mingled. Nobody wanted to leave the old building for the last time. It was sunlight and 8:30 that greeted us as we left the premises. Many folks took a last lap around the block. Since we had just had breakfast, we went back to where we were staying and celebrated a couple more hours, even making a stop at the beach. It was an unforgettable time for anyone lucky enough to be there. But truly the end of an era. When we walked out into the light, we were met by 1980. It would never be the same again.
11:57 PM
Thursday, January 16, 2003
In The Beginning...
Well, I was wondering where to start this saga…. the obvious answer being at the beginning. My earliest musical memory is listening to 78-RPM records on my parents humongous “Hi-Fi”, not on a wind-up gramophone, as is a popular belief. A hi-fi was about the size of a refrigerator placed on its side. You could play records or the radio and I loved to do both.
I’ve heard scholars debate on the identity of the first rock&roll song. There are almost as many opinions as scholars of the subject. Some chose R&B songs from the late 40’s by black artists. Others claimed songs by white vocal groups of the early 50’s. One choice, “Green Door”(artists forgotten) was a favorite of mine. In retrospect, they all have valid points. But I believe it couldn’t really be called rock&roll until the arrival of Elvis Pressley.
Although most of his early songs were written and performed first by Otis Blackwell, they were only heard in the Black community until Elvis burst on the national scene. The oddity of a white guy “jitterbuggin’” like the “Negroes” reached white America at a basic gut level, unknown before to the populace of those times.
My parents had a great 78-RPM record collection and I was exposed to music at a very early age. Although I had many favorites that I would listen to over and over, (memory courtesy of a surprise song on last weeks Randy Bone Show!) my very favorite was a copy of Elvis’s “Hound Dog” on 78! I don’t know if my folks bought that for my enjoyment or theirs, but I played the crap out of that record! The “B” side may have been “Love Me Tender”, or maybe that was a different one we had. I had to reach up to place the record on the turntable, struggling the find the hole with the spindle. As such, I eventually scrapped the hole to large to play the record evenly. That was a very sad day when I was told that my folks attempt to repair it were futile. I even feel kind of sad thinking about it now! And not because of what a 78 of Hound Dog must be worth today! (any opinions?…Wavy?)
Even earlier than that, one of my very favorites was a little ditty called “Ragtime Cowboy Joe”, giving me a great affinity for country & swing music. That recording would just drive me to move! Not knowing what is or how to dance, I would expel this uncontrollable energy by marching circles around the living room floor. Kind of like an early one-man mosh pit
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Music was always with me and played a major role in my life at many levels. My purpose here is to dredge up some old, long forgotten personal stories and memories…. Not just for me, but for all who find me here. Perhaps I’ll strike a chord in your memory banks that you’ll be happy to recall. Thanks for reading this!
11:47 PM
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
A Brand New Theme!
Well, since my last post here was 5 months ago, it's fairly evident that "Bearmania" has run it's course. I'd still like to have someone
record "Tofu Dog", but until such a time, I will regale you with tales of the old times. Rock and Roll and I grew up together, staying up late, doing what we're not supposed to and then some. We've been friends a real long time.
I'm going to post a permanent link to a welcome cartoon as soon as I figure out how and where. Nevermind why. As you can surely see, this isn't a fancy site with "special coding" or whatever they do to impress everyone. It's just a plain ol' site that hopefully will be of interest to specific people. Hopefully, you're one of them!
4:34 PM
Friday, August 16, 2002
We're Bearly Sane!
The artists currently known as Bearly Sane have been in many groups under various names, too numerous to mention. Starting in Brooklyn, N.Y. and traveling to San Francisco and back, Brahma & The Swede, along with their faithful companion, Kasha, have blazed new trails into music for a long time. These trails are covered up now and hard to find. But those that choose to leave the beaten path are given a gift that few will know!
Join Brahma's World!
11:55 PM
Saturday, August 10, 2002
The Other Half
You may be wondering,...."Where can I hear the other half of Bearly Sane?" No, you say? Well, maybe you'll change your mind! It's nothing like Bearly Sane, if that helps! Anyway, go here to here some good rockin' blues!
4:27 PM
Thursday, August 08, 2002
Radio Unnameable
Listen to WBAI in NYC
I've been spending my Thurs. evenings using the internet to listen to one of the all time great radio hosts, Bob Fass. Tuning in over the last three months or so has been a flashback to another time. It's as if time has stood still on his show. I've heard music and interviews I haven't heard on the radio anywhere else. These include The Fugs, Paul Krasner, mega amounts of early Dylan, much of it bootlegged. Phil Ochs and Dave Van Ronk. The great, great Lord Buckley!
If you're not familiar with some of these names, I urge you to find out who they are (were). Bob Fass is is on every Thursday night at midnight Eastern time. Usually till 3:30. I'm listening right now as I write this! I invite you to join me.
~The Brahma~
11:23 PM
Tuesday, August 06, 2002
The Official Bearly Sane Web Site
We have a web site where you can see more about Bearly Sane and others on Old Pooperoo Records. It's a crude site, as I'm a novice trying to use a computer.
But we're going to fool around with different stuff and see what we can come up with.
8:26 PM
Tuesday, July 30, 2002
Hello.....I'm Bearly Sane.....actually, I'm half Bearly Sane, the other half living 3000 miles away. We reunited last December (2001) to put together our first musical collaboration in many years. It was spur of the moment, taking just 3 days to complete. Despite this hinderence, the CD has been well recieved for it's originality. Please accept this invitation to listen to Bearly Sane on MP3. Look for our guestbook and leave your opinion.
Or, contact me directly. Thank you!
10:25 PM
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