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Bearly Sane~Tales of the Brahma~
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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
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