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Tuesday, February 03, 2009
Buddy Holly Led To Me In Jail!
WELCOME TO CLOVIS, NEW MEXICO
How my love of Buddy Holly landed me in jail!
Well, we ran out of cocaine before we got to New Mexico and she split,
So I was alone and thumbing at night outside some small town in Texas when I saw a billboard that said YOU ARE ENTERING KLAN COUNTRY, with a guy on horse in KKK robes holding a burning torch. tt was getting dark, so I decided I shouldn't keep hitching once it got dark. If I didn't get a ride I'd wait for the sun to start hitching again.
A car with 4 short haired guys pulled over and said for me to get in so I did. The driver said he was glad to see me, because there were two cars filled with drunk rednecks with baseball bats looking for the hippie hitchhiking. I asked why, and they told me they were going to "do me in". Sure enough, within minutes one car filled with guys zoomed by honking their horn and screaming their war chant.
This was serious.
As we drove the guys gave me the money out of their pockets and I realized they had given me enough for bus fare to Clovis. I asked if they could take me to the bus station in the next town and they said there was a Greyhound bus stop there so I relaxed. It turned out the guys in the car had all tried to grow their hair long and had been beaten up and forced to get haircuts- by the local cops!
We got to the bus station without incident and I said goodbye and thanks to them for saving my life, walked in with 7 hours to spare before the bus and crashed on a seat.
When I woke up the bus was a half hour away and I got ready to board. I got on board and immediately spotted three hippies, I went to the back where they were and struck up a conversation. They were all headed to Clovis, too, and the girl with long brown hair was with them and she was single. The plan was they would get a hotel room to split and I was invited. From hitchhiking to bus riding and hotel arrivin' certainly seemed a major change from being beaten up with baseball bats. The girl and I hit it off and talked all the way to Clovis.
There was only one hotel in town we discovered and started walking from the station to the hotel where I had already called dibbs on first shower. We were at the corner across from the hotel and I couldn't wait to get inside and four police cars pulled up in front of us with their sirens on.
I looked behind me to see what the commotion was all about and realized- we were the commotion. Before I knew it, each of us was separated and placed into the cars. I would never see them again.
There was a problem. I was 15. That meant I could be sent to juvenile detention, but at midnight, which was 2 1/2 hours away, I turned 16 and by Georgia law could be on my own. I had to wait until midnight.
Two cops had me in a room asking me what I was doing in Clovis. I told them but they didn't seem to know how to respond. How could a hippie like Buddy Holly music? One cop picked up my 96 pound frame and casually tossed me against the wall while the other cop played good cop asking me to tell them what they needed to know. I refused to answer half of their questions waiting for the clock to tick.
Being slammed around, threatened, cajoled for 2 1/2 hours was not easy. However I guess I learned I could stand up to police pressure and brutality. This would serve me well when I would move to Chicago and join the anti-war movement.
Finally laying on the floor I looked up and saw the clock read 12:10 am. I was now 16. Actually I had been by Georgia time for an hour. I wanted to make sure. I gave my dad's number and they called, only to discover they had let me go awhile ago. I was no runaway.
The rage that they had displayed for over two hours gave way to shocked, stunned silence. I had stood up to them for over two hours and did not break.
I had turned 16 in jail.
One said they would have to run a computer check on me to make sure I wasn't wanted anywhere and they took me to a cell. Next to my cell was a girl who told me she had been caught after curfew a third time and was being sent to juvenile for the next 6 years! I realized I had two close calls within 24 hours. I still had my lucky quarter as the cops hadn't taken my money away from me, the only money I had when I left Atlanta to head to New Orleans. A quarter!
For 2 1/2 days I sat in jail waiting to be cleared, finally a cop came out and took me to his car without a word. When I got in my backpack was in the seat next to him. We drove in silence to the expressway, he got out with my knapsack and dumped its contents all over the side of the street. He then opened my side of the car and let me out, saying, "Tell all your hippie friends not to come to Clovis, New Mexico". He sauntered back to the drivers side and took off.
You have been told.
Posted at 09:23 am by Psychomike
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Thursday, February 12, 2009
As the country celebrates Lincoln there is an easy way to split
the propaganda from the facts.
Do they mention Jefferson Davis?
Imagine a history of World War 2 that never mentions Hitler. Imagine
a history of World War 2 that does not mention what Germany or Japan
thought.
This is the giveaway, if they gush on and on about Lincoln but never
mention his adversary or what the South thought, you are dealing with
propaganda.
Here is the speech I gave at the College - consider it the half of
the history that has been hidden.
For those of you who grew up in Atlanta in the 1960's, you will find many memories here.
http://tinyurl.com/buhd94
http://lincolntruth.blogdrive.com/archive/cm-02_cy-2008_m-02_d-11_y-2008_o-0.html
Posted at 09:53 am by Psychomike
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Thursday, March 05, 2009
CALIFORNIA BABYLON
After I gathered together my clothes, toothbrush, and other essentials off the street that the police had dumped out after releasing me from jail and stuffed them into my knapsack a car pulled up alongside me and asked me where I was going.
Where was I going? I don't know why but I blurted out California and he told me to hop in, he could take me to the part of the expressway going to California. After ten minutes he did, he had asked no questions on the way, and I hopped out with a "Thanks, man". And for the next half hour I waited for any car to come by.
Finally a mobile home pulled up. On the side was painted a cross and Jesus, and a middle aged woman with no make-up on poked her head out the window. She asked where I was going and I said California, I heard a man's voice beside her say hop in so I did. He was older, his hands grasped the wheel. She did most of the talking, about how they went to mobile home areas and set up the car like a church. For the next few days I travelled with them, stopping at mobile home stops for showers, getting food along the road. Finally we hit California and they give me $20 and ask where I want to be left off.I wanted to go to LA and check out the scene, so they let me off on the road to catch a ride. They never brought up religion to me once. When they held service, I took a shower.
Turns out he'd hitchhiked after the Korean War on the West Coast, so we swapped adventures in those days together.
Night was falling, and a car finally pulled over for me. Well, we went over a hill and there was an ocean of lights, down the hill, up again, another ocean of lights. And it just went on and on. It was the biggest city I'd ever seen. As we approached the hippie part of town I was shocked. On each block, 50 to 100 kids were hitchhiking. I had never seen so many hitchhikers in my life. He left me off where there was a sign saying FREE FOOD but there was a line of 200 people waiting for food. This wasn't fun. This was a giant ghetto. A youth ghetto. Every other person was asking me if I had a place to crash! How was I going to find a place to crash, gather my thoughts and get the hell out of there?
That's when I saw my angel. I saw someone I knew! He was a roadie for bands in Atlanta and I had seen him hundreds of times, but what was his name? I approached him, he looked up, smiled and said, "Flash what are you doing here?", and started laughing and hugging me. I told him I just got in and was looking for a place to clean up and crash at. He invited me to his girlfriends house for the night and told me we'd leave for his home in Laurel Canyon, and we'd take Route 1. Sounded cool to me. When you have no plan, the person with one rules.
So we drive to her place and he tells me his new nickname is Bear and he is talking about how dinosaurs use to walk where we were driving and I believe it. I look outside and see giant light poles and yeah, it's easy to imagine dinosaurs where those lights are.
We get to his girlfriends place and as we walk up to the house she rushes over from the porch and hugs him and starts making out with him. He asks where eveyone is and she says in the house so off we go. I remark that he has a hot girlfriend and he says, "That ain't her".
He opens the door and there a couple of babes, a black guy and a guy rolling joints on the floor. The guy rolling joints is white, he has a suede jacket with a fringe that has filled his lap, the black guy doesn't have a Afro, those were styled, his hair is more wild ala Hendrix or myself. The two girls are wearing hip huggers that reveal their bellies, one has a tye die shirt that is above her belly button, one is wearing a leather jacket that that falls midway on her body and a man's shirt she has tied up and knotted.
He introduces me, kisses the two girls in a way so that I still don't know which one is his girlfriend, and sit on the floor by the guy rolling joints.
Now this is more like it. We start smoking and the black guy is talking about black power and the girl is talking about how women should have the same rights as men and somebody asks me what I think as I take a smoke and blurt out that we are never leaving Vietnam.
Over pot, we had just merged all the points of the day into one conversation. Bear got some Ripple wine out and suddenly we're talking about everything that was wrong in the world from cops with attitudes to the straight world being blind to the war, to women being treated badly by society I MEAN EVERYTHING.
Well Bear heads over to the kitchen and I follow to ask him which one of the girls was his girlfriend and he said, "She ain't here yet. So you can pick up any one you want".
I was starting to dig California. I guess there are a lot of cool people everywhere, you just have to find them.
FOOTNOTE:
WILD IN THE STREETS MOVIE TRAILER
Posted at 06:14 pm by Psychomike
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Sunday, May 31, 2009
The Mad World Of Severn Darden
THE BRAVEST COMEDIAN
Hyde Park in Chicago was a place for early progressives, leftists, communists and those who believed in integration. The University of Chicago, known as the "the place where fun goes to die" has an architectural style that reminds one of how all architecture would look if the Church and state were one. In the 1950's it was an area surrounded by poverty and one tread carefully away from the college. There was an incredible Chinese restaurant on 63rd Street but one did not walk there. There were blues clubs on 47th street, real blues clubs not tourist traps, but one drove to those as well. There was Jimmy's, a bar where students tried to relax but more often than not chess games and discussions of philosophy dominated. The Point was a spot you could go to- and study while looking at a hill and the lake. The Medici which everyone in Hyde Park mispronounced, MED-E-CHI instead of the Italian family name. It was a gallery and coffee shop at the time. The Museum of Science and Industry, a building left over from the World's Fair of 1893 had a German U-Boat and working coal mine in it. That was just about it. For 90% of the students at the school the work was difficult and grueling. Then there is that lucky 10% who seemed to float through school - who went to Jimmy's to drink, who turned lectures into high comedy and pulled pranks while everyone around them toiled.
No one before or since pulled pranks and got away with them the way Severn Darden did. No one.
The buildings invoke a a Medieval feel, so Darden got himself a cloak ala Sherlock Holmes and marched through the campus. Even among the eccentrics of Hyde Park, Darden stood out.
He had decided to find ways into every building on the campus. This was not easy to do, as the campus police force rivalled Chicago's in size, and guards were in every building. Where to start? Severn had come to Chicago via Vermont, but was born and raised in New Orleans. His dad ran for State's Attorney and promised that he would treat all races equally- which outraged the Klan. Up until then, a black witness could not testify against a white man or woman. This caused many death threats to the family, and might help explain why Severn was sent to school in Vermont. His father was given an award by the NAACP when they discovered he meant what he had said.
Rockerfeller Chapel! Perfect! His cloak on, Severn made his way into the building through an open window, and crept by the sleeping guard.
Into this imposing Chapel he crept armed only with a flashlight looking for his way of showing the campus he had penetrated this structure. The organ! The massive organ that could be heard throughout the campus!
He found it, and sat down to play. Quietly at first, then loud and booming. The sleeping guard awoke, and took a minute to realize what was happening. The sound of the organ was now echoing through the building and out into the Hyde Park night. The guard pulled his gun and cautiously moved towards the organ area. Flashlight in one hand, gun in the other, he came upon Severn in cloak playing a real life Phantom Of The Opera. As the light hit Severn he darted from the organ with the guard in hot pursuit. Running into the chapel he flung himself onto the altar and shouted,
SANCTUARY!
This startled the guard who was confused and did not know what to do as Severn escaped into the night.
Next he picked a target that was considered impenetrable. The girls showers!
Dressed in his cloak he found a way into the building, pass the guards and wandered into the showers where the girls in mass were taking their shower.
EXCUSE ME, IS THIS THE WAY TO CLARK STREET ?
He said deadpan and the girls went from screams to laughter. He got away with it!
There was an expression still in use from early America, "Is the game worth the candle?", it was from the days before electricity when you had to use a candle, a rare item, to entertain after dark. Severn carried a candle on him at all times, should some stuffy Prof or dismissive student say the line to him, he pulled the candle out! There was no comeback. There was no way to top him.
Severn had topped every prank at the College. It was time to find a new victim. He chose Bard College and noted the Dean's house was atop a slope. He gathered some students together, and they built a crucifix , got him a loin cloth and hoisted him on the hill. Because of the slope you couldn't see him until you came up the hill. He was crucified in front of the Dean's house! The Dean expelled him for that one. Severn looked up at him and spoke, but not to apologize,
THAT'S TOO BAD I WAS GOING TO WRITE YOU A CHECK!
Fearless. Improvisational. Quick witted. Eccentric. He bought a Rolls Royce when no one collected them, a 1929 one and drove around with his cloak on.
He decided to become an actor. But he was on a path to meet Del Close.
(Thanks to Encounters and Reflections: Conversations with Seth Benardete for prank information).
Posted at 10:23 am by Psychomike
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Wednesday, July 15, 2009
A Pause for Ferris Bueller
SLAMMING INTO TODAY WITH FERRIS BUELLER'S DAY OFF
"Mike, to choose the artists life isn't an answer. It's a mountain to climb."
- KENNETH ANGER
"The modern day artist refuses to die."
- ERIC SATIE
"Life moves pretty fast. You don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it."
- FERRIS BUELLER
A confession dear reader. Writing a blog is much easier than writing a script. Here I can rant. A script? Well, I follow Paul Linebarger's STASM formula. Paul is one of my heroes. He was an OSS agent, the precursor to CIA. His classic must read Intel book, PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE comes in 2 editions, up to World War 2 and Korea. Paul wrote science fiction under the name Cordwinder Smith without CIA's knowledge, and romance novels under the name Frederick Forest. His book RIA about rebels, gun and money running- well you can look at the name of the book and guess what struggle and group it's about. The CIA never knew he was weaving his experiences into fiction.
The STASM formula is as follows: SUBJECT MATTER, TIME FRAME, AUDIENCE, SOURCES and MISSION. What is my subject? The time frame to get it done? Who is the audience for the work? What are my sources, my resources to draw on? Finally, what is the goal of the piece, how does it fit in with my overall mission? Now, taking military iideas and applying them to theatre isn't really far fetched. The two worlds have much in common. Though I doubt many writers ask themselves these questions before they write.
A director wears a mask to rally the actors, so does a General with their troops. You can have the General like Pattton who is aloof from his men, or Omar Bradley who will have beers with them. A director like Ceil B. DeMille who struck fear into his cast and crew, or one like Clint Eastwood who doesn't even like to use the word CUT or ACTION on a set to keep his actors at ease.A general doesn't want his soldiers to die on the field. A director doesn't want his actors to die onstage. The rules of war and theatre are pretty much interchangable ( substitute the word MARKETING with PSYCHOLOGICAL WARFARE and it all starts to fall into place).
A blog like this is more like a diary. The STASM formula does not fit. Here I can driift from period to period, as I do tonight.
Del called me excited that he had a part in FERRIS BUELLER'S DAY OFF which was shooting in Highland Park, a beautiful and rich part of Chicago.
I was living in a highrise at 1120 N. LaSalle that was formerly occupied by a victim of the Tylenol murders (so the rent was cut in half compared to the other units in the building). Del was across the street and behind buildings from Second City.
I stepped into the open door and the wall of pot smoke and Del was excited.
" Michael!' he exclaimed as I entered, " I'm doing a film about you!" and I had no idea what he was talking about.
He handed me a joint that was burning and walked over to his kitchen table where the script sat on his table. I had no idea how to take what he had just said and asked hm instead what part he had.
"Not a big role, but I talk about irony!" he laughed. We'd actually talked about the role of irony in entertainment and how it seemed to be growing. So then I asked him what he meant by 'it was a film about me'.
"It's you with your own place at 12. Teaching before you graduated at the Art Institute,. the women you've known, the luck plane! The Subgenius luck plane that saves you at the last minute over and over." and he broke into more laughter.
He told me I'd just have to see the film when it came out. I don't remember why I didn't, but over the years I never saw it. Until tonight.
Chicago in summer has film screenings in the parks and tonight by the Historical Society was an open air screeniing of FERRIS. So i walked over, found a seat and watched the film with a crowded and young audience. Most were babies when the film came out. I watched and loved the film. It was great to see Del in it. I loved the scenes of Highland Park and the city.
When the final credits ended i walked two blocks over to where Del use to live. i knew he would have liked the film being shown to a packed field in his old backyard.
As I walked to the crash pad I started thinking. You see, i had been living in a house wiith South Africans in a Mexican hood, and someone dropped a dime and wanted the blacks out. Inspectors had shown up and we all had to go with just 7 days notice. Illegal Mexicans calling to complain about an illegal boarding house because blacks were there. Welcome to Chicago!
This caught me offguard. Here I was working with a book company and author to come up with a treatment for a play on Crowley, plus being in a play every week, moving was not part of the plan. A pal was leaving for Asia, and let me stay at his place. For the last 6 weeks I've been in a highrise, with balcony, and indoor swimming pool! Not bad for being homeless! Next week I move into a raw space for a week and a half, then into a newly re-modeled pad. All by luck.
As I walked the three blocks from the museum to the crashpad i could hear Del laughing and saying the film was about me. I laughed outloud, because now I got the comment.
Posted at 01:12 am by Psychomike
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Friday, October 02, 2009
CALIFORNIA ON FIRE!
I was looking at the picture of the girl with long blonde hair holding a guitar who had come to represent for me the college students holding sit-ins against the Vietnam War. It is difficult to explain these actions, but luckily, there is news footage from the era:
Here she was in the photo occupying the Dean's office, strumming her guitar, a student at the female Harvard- Dartmouth. I was transfixed. I looked up just in time to see black smoke rolling across the backyard of the crash pad. I went outside and there was a line of bushes on fire! I ran inside and dropped the magazine on the couch yelling for Bear. He came out of his bedroom and took a look and casually put his shoes on. The next thing I knew he was hosing down the fire and I was carrying buckets of water from the kitchen. As I poured the water on the fire I asked Bear how often these fires happened. He yawned and said all the time.
I asked what happens when no one is home when these fires combust and he said, you hope the fire doesn't hit the house.
I had loved the canyon. The beauty of it. The mellow moods of the women...... but I had noticed the hundreds lining up hitchhiking. The hundreds of panhandlers in the city. I thought I had found a home- but fighting fires was too much. That night we drove to Topango Canyon and watched Canned Heat play.
I was missing Atlanta and it was time to go home. Bear told me he'd get me a plane ticket and I thought he was kidding, but he wasn't. I flew over the states I had hitched through. Thinking about all I had seen on the road. That it ended in fire and heat made me chuckle.
I got back to the city and was happy to see Atlanta again. I had been in jail for my birthday, escaped rednecks with baseball bats, got wasted and escaped the cop sweep in New Orleans, travelled with a car church to trailer parks and I had made it. Not bad for a 16 year old.
Like Ulysses I had returned home. It was daylight on Peachtree and Peyote saw me and yelled out FLASH! We hugged and talked about Big Sur, Topango Canyon, Route 1 and all the beauty. I didn't even mention the more thrilling aspects of my journey. He mentioned a record company was looking for a guy to work in the marketing department in their office out in the burbs, and having written for the Bird that would help me get the job. They handled rock bands like the Stones, The Who, Moody Blues, John Mayall and country music acts. They knew how to promote country, but rock was new to them. He gave me a number to call. I was about to change my life yet again. I went to a payphone and called the number. A voice answered on the other end.
"Hello, Decca records".
Posted at 03:46 pm by Psychomike
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Thursday, October 29, 2009
SubGenius Devivals 2009/2010
We interrupt this surf with an important message!
THE CHURCH OF THE SUBGENIUS CHICAGO CLENCH BEGINS A WEEKLY DEVIVAL ASSAULT ON THE PINK BOYS AND THE CONSPIRACY!
There are those who claim The Church Of The Subgenius is a joke. If it is, at least it's a joke you can believe in!
Or you saw one of the many Chicago devivals at nightclubs and bars around the city featuring Rev. Del Close, Pope Mike Flores, Rev. Ivan Stang. The Church is back with weekly sermons... who will survive? What will be left of them? You can be like the NORMALS and look away, or you can prepare yourself for a life changing experience.... yet again! What other religion promises the flying saucers will remove you from the planet when the end times wipe earth out, or TRIPLE YOUR MONEY BACK? Dear friends just take a peek at what Chicago's fallible Pope has in store:
DEVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
The devivals will be at 8PM at THE LIAR'S CLUB, 1665 W Fullerton free parking both sides of the street. $6 You must Be 21 or over. 773- 665- 1110 but no reservations needed.
Sat Nov 28th THE QUEST FOR SLACK: Scream Out over holidaze with relatives, learn the story of "Bob", the 1982 World SubCon Tribulations
Sat Dec 5th A JOYFUL NOISE Everyone bring odd instruments to play, surprise Chicago musicians to show up
Sat Dec 12 SEX MIRACLES AND YOU 24 hour marriages, reverse healings, sex with aliens!
Sat Dec 19 PUT THE X BACK IN XMAS! The fallible Pope of Chicago opens a can of whup ass on the holidaze season! Can I hear a hell yeah!
You know, the conspiracy has THOUSANDS of nuclear weapons. The Church only has one! And I forgot where I put it when I was drunk but it has to be someplace around here... I think I left it near my keys so when I find those... ANYWAY prepare yourself for the word of "Bob", prepare yourself for the battle for slack! PRAISE "BOB"!
Posted at 10:49 pm by Psychomike
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Tuesday, November 17, 2009
SubGenius Outreach Crusade!
AMSTERDAM, OHIO, CHICAGO, MICHIGAN: OPERATION OUTREACH BEGINS NOW!
SOMETIMES A JOKE CAN GO TOO FAR... SOMETIMES, IS NOW!
THE CHURCH OF THE SUBGENIUS presents weekly Devivals In Chicago! List of other devivals below.. THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING!
 The Chicago devivals will be at 8PM at THE LIAR'S CLUB, 1665 W Fullerton free parking both sides of the street. No reservation needed, 773- 665- 1110
$6 You must Be 21 or over
.  Sat Nov 28th THE QUEST FOR SLACK: Scream Out over holidaze with relatives, learn the story of "Bob", the 1982 World SubCon Tribulations
Sat Dec 5th A JOYFUL NOISE Everyone bring odd instruments to play, surprise Chicago musicians to show up
Sat Dec 12 SEX MIRACLES AND YOU 24 hour marriages, reverse healings, sex with aliens!
Sat Dec 19 PUT THE X BACK IN XMAS!
The fallible Pope of Chicago opens a can of whup ass on the holidaze season! Can I hear a hell yeah!
Upcoming SubGenius Events
Nov. 21st-26th, Amsterdam, Holland: Frop Cup 2009 - Frop Cup vs. Cannabis Cup Opening ceremonies will be at Cafe Mono Bilderdijkstraat 15, 1052 NA Amsterdam, Netherlands at 22.00 (10pm) on No.. 21st and the week's festivities include: Rantings, Frop outtings, drunken staggering contests, SubGenius Olympic Doping Committee Meetings, Spankings (tm), Vile Dancing, SexHurt, The Korsakoff. If you'd like to attend please drop Pope Black an email: pope_black666@yahoo.de November 28, Detroit, Michigan: ANNUAL DETROIT SUBGENIUS DEVIVAL with THE AMINO ACIDS and many others 9:00 PM at SMALL'S BAR, Hamtramck, MI -- ALL AGES - $6! http://theaminoacids.com/ Nov. 28, Dec. 5, 12, & 19, Chicago, IL: Weekly SUBGENIUS DEVIVAL of the FITTEST with Pope Michael Flores 8 p.m. each night weekly at THE LIAR'S CLUB, 1665 W Fullerton, Chicago IL http://subgeniusslack.blogdrive.com/archive/78.html Feb. 12 - 14 Atwood Lake Lodge, Dellroy OH: Winterstar Symposium With Rev. Ivan Stang, Witch Disco, Harvey Pekar (?) http://www.rosencomet.com/festhapp.html
Posted at 11:45 pm by Psychomike
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