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Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Vincent Price, Sears and Art
Born in San Diego by parents who had met in the Navy I grew up in Asia and found myself in South Carolina after a time in Virginia. Post 62, but I think JFK was still President.
My mom had me watch Vincent Price movies and along with my FAMOUS MONSTERS collection I had been exposed to his work on TV. I loved Boris Karloff as a kid, but Price was in the top 5. With Groucho, WC Fields, Bogart- good company!
When mom asked me if I wanted to go to Sears and meet him, I could come with her! Well that was a quick yes!
I couldn't think of much more than asking for his autograph and telling him I loved HOUSE OF WAX ! He was selling an art line for Sears, which allowed people to buy rare art prints for a few bucks down, and sold millions of dollars worth of art for Sears. (A Picasso limited edition might go for $300- a bargain and investment it would later turn out).
We walked into the store and it was the end of his time there. He was standing and talking to a couple that walked off, and I ran up to him.
He was very polite to me and I told him how much I liked his movies like HOUSE OF WAX and he laughed, turned to my mom and said, "Kids are watching those horror movies on TV and I hear this all the time. I wish they'd see LAURA-"
and I interrupted him and said I did! My mom had me watch it with her and he was great in that, too!".
He replied when I got older I might appreciate the woman in the lead GENE TIERNEY! ( He was right, and I got her autograph, too. She was in fact the woman who already had spawned adult thoughts in my mind, I realized not all women were like my mom after seeing her, but I wasn't going to say that in front of my mom!)
My mom talked about Tierney and they chatted about her (tragic) life and when there was a lull in their talk I asked for his autograph. He smiled and said yes, signed his name and drew his profile and gave it to me and told me to study art to understand life.
Years later I would teach at the Chicago Art Institute, 20th Century art history. From there I would go on to create and work in theatre and film.
And it all started with a trip to Sears, to meet Vincent Price.
Posted at 10:25 pm by Psychomike
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Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Posted at 08:49 am by Psychomike
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Saturday, August 25, 2007
MY DEBUT
I had been a fan of the Atlanta Horror movie host Bestoink Dooley, aka George Ellis and he had opened a movie theater that showed films no theater in the south would show. CHELSEA GIRLS, MY HUSTLER, SCORPIO RISING and other films at the zenith of the underground film movement were just a few of the films that played the Festival Cinema. He would later open the Film Forum which helped launch the ROCKY HORROR phenomenon in the south, but at the Festival he played the underground films I had read about in magazines like EVERGREEN and I decided underage or not, I wanted to go and see the films. There was a girl in my neighborhood I wanted to ask to go with me, she was older than me so I hoped he would let us in to see Warhol's MY HUSTLER if I could convince them she was my guardian!
The two screen effect of Chelsea Girls
She was the only exotic woman in Morningside in Atlanta. Some whispered she was Italian, some she was Jewish. Every time I saw her she was dating older guys, so I had to figure out how to approach her. I was barely a teen, and here she was 17 and being driven around by guys in their 20's!
I decided to just go up and talk to her, and I did. I told her about underground movies and Bestoink Dooley and she laughed and said we should carry on the conversation that night.
That night I met her by the Baptist Church which had a sloping hill and trees in a mini forest. Before the developers hit Atlanta, I was just two blocks from a street that ended in miles of cliffs and woods. Kids found old civil war bullets and even Indian arrowheads- it was a magical area at the end of a residential street!
She wore big hoop earrings (to this day those earrings get me excited) and we walked and talked. No adult had asked me what I was reading from the magazines before, and I talked about New York and the movie scene, which I still hadn't seen. It must have been the first time I talked to anyone about Andy Warhol and his movies. As we walked we came upon the sloped hill and sat down. For the first time in my life, it happened.
"It" was a pull, a kind of electromagnetic pull. We both felt it. At first she played with this feeling, which seemed to be new to her as well. She would draw her face close to mine, and the pull would happen. It was as if we were drawn to each other. After going back and forth like this a few times, and it would be years later I would learn it was probably our serotonin levels rising, she kissed me.
The pull happened again as we kissed and I lay back and saw the stars. We laughed about the feeling and she kissed me again.
I began to touch her. We began to touch each other, and there literally in front of God and everybody I lost my virginity. All the while feeling the pull of feelings.
Afterwards we hatched our plan to go to the Festival Cinema and made a date to meet in a few days to see the movie.
The next day I told my mom I had a date and she laughed and then got all serious. I'd have to clean the front room so we could chat before we left. I could tell my mom thought the whole idea, a 12 year on a date, was very cute.
The night came and She came to my door. I watched for her through the window I had been looking through for hours before the date when she glided to the door. Some women walk, some glide. She was a glider. I was excited and called my mom.
My mom walked to the door and opened it and there was this beautiful girl who had just driven up our driveway. My mom looked shocked. She asked her where my date was!
When informed the woman she met was my date, mom hit the roof.
As she yelled at her I could make out the words "slut", "whore" and the date was over.
I wanted to die.
I was all dressed up with nowhere to go, and my mom informed me I wasn't going on anymore dates.
No cell phones, answering machines or email in those days, I would have to wait for mom to leave to call her. I still wasn't any closer to the Festival Cinema. Later I tried to call her, but there was no answer.
I realized I could not stay home. The horse wasn't going back into the barn.
The next day I noticed MIN AND BILL was going to play the theater and that was all ages. So I went to the theater and decided to meet George Ellis, tell him I enjoyed his horror host personae, and maybe he would let me in for the underground movies. I entered the lobby and there at a desk were two of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. Carol and Linda. George was out getting candy for the theater, and I started talking to these women. I have no idea what they thought as I talked about the factory in New York where Warhol made his movies, or comedians like Lenny Bruce and music and all this knowledge I acquired came out.
And they talked to me like an adult.
And they were wonderful and charming and stunning- Carol with her blonde hair and hourglass figure, Linda who looked like a model. We talked all the way through the film in the lobby when George Ellis showed up with bags of goodies to sell. Carol said, "This guy is cool" and my heart skipped a beat. When asked how old I was, I said 17.
George Ellis actually made a couple of movies to cash in on his Bestoink Dooley character that played drive-ins
They bought it. After all, how many 12 year old Georgians were knowledgeable about Andy Warhol? Or Kenneth Anger?
I went into the next showing of MIN AND BILL and as I left George told me to come back next week for SCORPIO RISING and CHAFED ELBOWS. I was in!
I couldn't wait to invite her, and without her trying to pretend to be my guardian it looked great. If she would still talk to me.
I finally reached her on the phone and she laughed off my moms comments and told me her parents were leaving town for a night and would I like to spend the night! Would I! She also said something that caused a great deal of anxiety. She said I kissed like a girl!
What did that mean?
I laid in bed watching the shadows cross and wondered what she meant.......
Her home was only a couple of blocks away, so I waited for my parents to go to sleep and snuck out. She greeted me at the door with her killer lips and dangling hoop earrings. She poured me a glass of wine and as we sat down on her bed I apologized for kissing like a girl! She laughed and said that was a good thing, that guys push their tongues (and themselves) on women and I kissed and waited for a response.
I didn't tell her that was because I had no idea what I was doing, but to this day, the woman has to make the first move!
And we kissed and fell into bed and the records on the spindle kept dropping and playing until I either passed out or was asleep.
The next morning it was 7 am when she woke me frantically. Her parents had come back early!
For the first time, I found myself throwing my clothes on fast, grabbing my shoes and climbing out the window to get out fast.
But what a night.
I entered my home quietly with my parents none the wiser.
Within one week I had made my first adult friends who knew the things I was dying to find out about, I had lost my virginity to a girl that would a few years later be in PLAYBOY, and jumped out a window ala Don Juan, not a bad start for a 12 year old!
Posted at 11:40 am by Psychomike
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Tuesday, August 28, 2007
Dancing with John Belushi and No Pants
It was late. Maybe 2am. I was drunk. High. WASTED.
Earlier that evening I found the note from Patti on the kitchen table.
My mom is in town. I have to go to dinner with her.
There was about a 1/4 ounce of cocaine on a mirror on the table next to the note.
After months of no cocaine, suddenly it was back.
My mom is in town.
So I'd look out the balcony of 1939 North Lincoln to see if she was back yet, and go back and do a line. And another. And another.
This shit looked like mica, layers of shiny platforms of pleasure- this was the kind of cocaine someone could stomp on 10 to 1, and the people who got it would say it was the best they ever had. No teeth grinding, no running to the toilet. CLEAN.
What can you say about a drug that makes women horny, and men lose sexual control?
My mom is in town.
Got tired of that, decided to go to the Blues Bar. Walked to Wells Street and down the alley to the Blues Brothers Bar. I left her a note where I was going, but I didn't expect her back this night.
So I reach the house and there is Steve and he opens the door and says, "John is here" and I went from sad and stoned to happy and stoned.
I loved John Belushi.
"Mike get your fucking ass over here!", he yelled from the bar and I did. This time I brought the coke.
He hugged me and said, " How the fuck are ya!?!", and I hugged him back and said, "Can I have this dance?", and John broke into a frenzied laughter, grabbed me and we started to slow dance at the bar.
" I think Patti is getting suspicious", I said, and he dropped his pants as we danced and said,"Why?" and I couldn't stop laughing until my laughs turned into coughs.
People around the bar started laughing and I told him I had some amazing coke and he pulled his pants up and said, "Why the fuck didn't you tell me?" and he looked at the bag I produced and said, "What the fuck is this?".
It's coke John.
"Shit, lets do it".
And we did.
"GOD DAMN! IF THIS IS COKE, WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I BEEN DOING!" he yelled and then did another line and another and another.
So did I.
Patti and I had stopped buying coke and having it around the apartment while she worked with Playboy ( despite what you may have heard, by this time Playboy was really anti-drug), but we would still do lines when offered.
John was as cool as you could be in those days, an Illinois boy who had made it. A fucking genius straight or stoned. Yet whenever we ventured outside the bar if any stranger talked to him no matter how wasted, he would stop and say hi back.
That's the Chicago way.
I was sipping on Gin and Tonic (should be plural), and smiling and happy.
Around 5 am, I remembered Patti.
Patti fucking Petite.
Where was she?
The coke was gone, I was near blacking out and said goodbye.
John at this point just nodded.
I walked to the apartment, and noticed the lights weren't on.
Patti had to be there, because I left the lights on.
I ran up the stairs, fumbled for the keys, then thought she might be asleep so I should be quiet.
I opened the door, walked in and peeked in the bedroom.
No one was there.
I cut on the light in the kitchen.
There on the table was another 1/4 ounce of coke and a note.
I'LL BE BACK IN A COUPLE OF DAYS. WITH MY MOM.
Our society teaches us to do what our parents tell us to. Our society tells us blood is thicker than water.
But, what if our mom was a hooker who taught us to be one at age 12 and now wanted us back in the fold?
I had broken from my parents years ago.
Patti, still believed.
Posted at 08:25 pm by Psychomike
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Thursday, August 30, 2007
Letters to Quest For Slack!
LETTERS
I'll take a break from writing to post some cool notes and letters this blog has received about Atlanta and Bestoink Dooley.
Hey Mike,
I believe I remember you from the Strip. Could that be? Real young
kid at the time, as I recall. I probably have a photo of you in my
proof sheets. If you have not been to my web site the hippie stuff is
Carter Tomassi
(Carters website is a must to visit to see where I grew up!, and yes, he has found photos!)
That was a GREAT story.
Guess where the first house was that I ever owned outright in my life -- on Wessyngton Road
directly across the street from the Baptist church !!!! That was in 1968-69 !!
LOL FABULOUS
And we ALL knew Bestoink Dooley (aka George Ellis) and have been to his theater many times.
One of my friends, Jeannie Muse, from the 1960s who lived in and around the Mitchell House (as we all did at one time or another)
and I have have remained close friends ever since. She is coming to visit me sometime this week.
And she knew Bestoink more "intimately" than I --- I'll have her get in touch with you and tell you some of the
stories ;-)
She's not an Internet savvy person -- and has no Email knowlege -- so give me a phone number where she can reach
you and we'll give you a call, if you would like.
Miki (Foote) Davis
Just tried to search George Ellis and Bestoink, getting to see whom
was a great treat of visiting my grandmother in Decatur from South
Georgia backwaters, and I found an interview with you. Wow a
personality! I was so happy to read you were associated with the
Bettie Paige movie. My mother, named Bettie was a brunette and
resembled her so my photographer father was always posing her Bettie-
ish and suggestive. Bettie was always a good association to me. I
greatly enjoyed the movie and felt the person behind the masque.
Good job.
You've had an exciting life.
Pat Edmondson
You are, of course, referring to the one and only George Ellis. He is departed but will never be forgotten by those who loved him.
Many of us followed George and his Buddha presence from theater to the theater. First there was the Festival Theater downtown, then the Film Forum at Ansley, then a time at the Garden Hills, then a never realized attempt at the Ellis Cinema (now Variety Playhouse). Sadly, George died before the Ellis really came to realization.
George's memorial service was one of the most amazing events that I have ever had the pleasure to attend. The old theater space below the Women's Club on Peachtree (near 14th) was absolutely packed. For about 3 1/2 hours, people told George Ellis stories, laughed, hugged and generally became one with one of the most wonderful people to ever stroll the streets of this fair city. When we left, everyone was aglow.
There are tapes in existence of George doing the Bestoink Dooley character. I know someone who will know where those might be, I will try to seek him out and inquire about that.
George also had an off and on theater and film career. There may be taped footage of some of his theater performances, although they would likely be of questionable quality after all these years (the archival quality of video tape is not great). He also appeared in a few independent films in the 60's and 70's. You could google or imdb his name and find some of those. I worked on one or two and they were definitely not high points in cinematic history, and thus might be out of print (even in VHS).
Good luck with your search. I will try to get info on the Bestoink Dooley tapes.
Further.
Larry Rob
Hi mike, I remember Bestoink Dooley and the movie theater he ran the Ansley mall movie theater.
His real name was George something. I know he had a son here in Atl and I think that's who you'd
need to contact. I knew him years ago but have not seen him in years. I'll look into it and get back to
you. They were Greeks and I have some Greek friend who still live here that may no George Jr's
where abouts.
Sammy Blue
This site might have some way to link up with other fans to find some footage - it's devoted to regional horror hosts: E-Gor's Chamber of TV Horror Hosts: http://myweb.wvnet.edu/e-gor/tvhorrorhosts/hostsb.htmlThis site also links to a pix of him: http://cinematreasures.org/theater/12110/Horror host footage is sometimes hard to track down these days, though - regional tv didn't have the best track record of keeping materials around. The only footage outside of an Ed Wood film of Vampira is a short promotional clip made to sell a possible syndicated Vampira package - the original shows themselves seem to be lost at this point. Bestoink's film Legend of Blood Mountain might be the best source for footage of him, it was released a while back on video but I don't know that there is any DVD copies floating about: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0229528/One of the best "gray market" places for rare film is Pimpadelic Wonderland, which might be able to track it down if they don't already have a copy: http://pimpadelicwonderland.com/videolibraryAF.htmlHope some of this helps! Doug Rednour
I used to watch The Big Movie Shocker on old channel 5 every weekend and enjoyed Bestoink Dooley aka George Ellis!
He also played in a B Movie filmed at Stone Mountain, I think it was called Monster of Blood Mountain.
He passed away a few years ago and his son, who ran the Film Forum with him may still be living.
I spent many a stoned weekend attending movies at his theatre. We go get a sandwich at Crops and B
and after the flick have a munchies fix at the Fruit Jungle.
PS: Does anyone have any tapes or CD's from the Booger Band, I know they did some? I heard a cassette that was floating
around in about 1970 with "Feel A Pain" on it.
Thanks,
Duane Blalock
Posted at 10:13 am by Psychomike
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Friday, September 14, 2007
Del stood in front of the Sputnik.
Here it was, returned from space in all its glory. The Sputnik. We didn't have NASA before it went up. We didn't even really have a space program. Science fiction dreams and decades of hope were before him.
And the Soviet Union had been first.
Del walked over to sign the guest book and waited behind an old woman who constantly glanced over her shoulder as she wrote her thoughts on the exhibit of art, science and Sputnik. Del spent his time gathering his thoughts. Why hadn't America accomplished this? Could our system ever catch up to the Soviets? Or would anti-communism, born of paranoia and a crazy drunk named McCarthy forever keep us a step behind?
Del stepped up to the book and stopped to read what the old woman had written.
PLEASE TELL MY HUSBAND, WHO FOUGHT HITLER IN STALINGRAD, I LOVE HIM STILL AND FOREVER. HE IS IN ONE OF YOUR LABOR CAMPS.
"Labor camps? What labor camps?", Del wondered. He stepped forward and picked up the pen and wrote in the book,
Thank you for making a little boys dream come true.
Del walked into the sun his head filled with thoughts. The Soviet Union had ended forever racism, sexual inequality, had a vibrant music and arts scene. Equality was the name of the Soviet Union. And all they had to do was pass a few laws, and it had all ended. He had read this in the New York Times, while reading on other pages of civil rights workers vanishing from the south, the Democrats fighting for segregation, the horrible noise of rockabilly and country music. The Soviets understood folk music. And Del loved folk music, with its songs of labor, fighting the bosses and the future where all would be equal and fair and one. Just by passing a few laws.
All over New York City he could hear this song:
IF I HAD A HAMMER (The Hammer Song)
words and music by Lee Hays and Pete Seeger
If I had a hammer
I'd hammer in the morning
I'd hammer in the evening
All over this land
I'd hammer out danger
I'd hammer out a warning
I'd hammer out love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land
If I had a bell
I'd ring it in the morning
I'd ring it in the evening
All over this land
I'd ring out danger
I'd ring out a warning
I'd ring out love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land
If I had a song
I'd sing it in the morning
I'd sing it in the evening
All over this land
I'd sing out danger
I'd sing out a warning
I'd sing out love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land
Well I've got a hammer
And I've got a bell
And I've got a song to sing
All over this land
It's the hammer of justice
It's the bell of freedom
It's the song about love between my brothers and my sisters
All over this land
Del walked to the train and headed for The Village. THE VILLAGE. Home of folk, pot and heroin and booze and music and girls who liked to have sex and poets and life. He stepped into the world and headed for the newsstand. There was Leftie, old and grizzled a survivor of prohibition and seller of his magic cigarettes. 50 cents each, rolled on a machine he kept in the stand and a great buzz right before he went to hear music or poetry or sit in a bar and drink and argue the world.
" Hey I see your ex-partners made the papers today" Leftie said, holding up the paper.
All the color fell from Del's face. He could feel his feelings like waves- crashing from his head to his toes. He didn't think seeing a picture of the two of them would hurt him so. But it did. The act he had helped create, had moved on.
"No thanks", Del said, "Just the cigarette".
Del stood in the alley, remembering the abortion and watching the smoke float into the air.
"Del, man howdy!", came a voice breaking the wall Del was constructing in his mind.
"Hi", Del glanced up, "have a smoke?" and his friend stepped up and said sure and smiled and took a drag off the joint.
"You ever try heroin?", his friend asked.
Heroin. The drug of the village next to booze. Del had noticed how beautiful the women looked on it, heroin.
"Why the hell not", Del said.
"Why the hell not."
Posted at 11:11 am by Psychomike
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Sunday, September 23, 2007
There's a kind of rush.......
Chapter 5
"The Glasgow Caledonian University study of 126 users of the class A drug found many were holding down normal jobs and relationships and passing exams. The report said heroin could be taken in a controlled way" - BBC
It is an odd thing about heroin. A large percentage of addicts were abused as children, most often sexually. So the government failed to protect them as kids, and then arrests them as adults. Those in countries with legalized heroin and thus a constant quality available live longer, hold down jobs, families. With illegal heroin there is no quality control, the result is often death. By making heroin illegal, we give a death sentence to the self medicating abused.
There was a lot of dope around the music scene and a lot of musicians were deep into drug, especially heroin. People--musicians--were considered hip in some circles if they shot smack. Some of the younger guys like Dexter Gordon, Tadd Dameron, Art Blakey, J. J. Johnson, Sonny Rollins, Jackie McLean, and myself--all of us--started getting heavily into heroin around the same time. Despite the fact that Freddie Webster had died from some bad stuff. Besides Bird, Sonny Stitt, Bud Powell, Fats Navarro, Gene Ammons were all using heroin, not to mention Joe Guy and Billie Holiday, too.There were a lot of white musicians--Stan Getz, Gerry Mulligan, Red Rodney, and Chet Baker--who were also heavily into shooting drugs.
-Miles Davis in "Miles: the autobiography", page 129
Del sat at the kitchen table as his pal drained the spoon with his syringe. Del puffed on his cigarette and waited for his turn. He was nervous, but ready.
"Like man Bird, you dig, Charlie Parker can riff and jam off a sound and this dude who wrote HOWL, whatsisnameagin?", the pal asked.
Del looked up from the spoon, "Ginsberg".
"Yeah, yeah that's him, he's like a poet but he's a jazz poet man the way he riffs off the word 'who' is so cool and that's heroin man. That is heroin.That's poetry and all that jazz man, jazz and poetry are heroin. It's a consciousness a beat. A beat. A beat. It's ON THE ROAD so it isn't just poetry its everywhere, dig?".
Del nodded.
"We'll do this and go to Red Drum man and hear some poets. You'll see the heroin is the fuel of art man, its so cool. Here, let me do you first man. Bird did a tune about his dealer man, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oDo_CPvdlP4 maybe he owed him money or he like was paying him tribute, roll up your sleeve man, but if you like this you can maybe do a comedy bit on me, Skeetz you know, like make comedy into jazz or poetry, ok I'm gonna put this in man your arm is so clean here we go...."
WOWWHATAFUCKINGRUSHLIKEFALLINGOFFACLIFFBUTLANDINGINMIDAIR it's warm. warm. warm like the night before christmas when dad was still alive and warm like a fireplace with a hot girl warm like butter left on a hot stove I can't move my legs my eyes I'm moving but where why am I moving my legs are so heavy I feel sick I feel sick that's it what if I could have said the words that kept dad alive I threw up I think or did I my eyes I'm so sleepy can't make the scene must make the scene I want to experience everything I want to sleep.
perchance to dream.
Posted at 12:43 pm by Psychomike
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Tuesday, September 25, 2007
The Impact Of Sen. McCarthy
FOOTNOTE:
Senator Joseph McCarthy had a major impact on both Del and my generation. Yet it was not until 4 years ago that the truth actually came out about him. Just as I've previously covered L. Ron Hubbard and will cover others like Tim Leary, Duane Allman, Ken Keysey and others who had impacts on us both, so too I will post at times McCarthy.
This time I decided a footnote was in order- the true story as revealed by CIA is so out there I figured you'd want to read it before we continued here. Del and I did not know the true story when Del was alive. But you should. And I know Del would have wanted to know the hidden truth, too.
My talk on Joe McCarthy is online. It is based on declassified CIA papers and there were some strange things, and funny things that happened when I began to write and talk about them.
1. I tried contacting George Clooney's office when he was preparing to do his film on Murrow and offer him not my speech, but the CIA report. His assistant interrupted me, stated that CIA was not involved in the McCarthy era, and hung up.
2. I contacted a college professor and expressed an interest in returning to teaching- in this case contrasting the popular culture- films, books, etc on the era from THE MANCHURIAN CANDIDATE to the romance of the left over Soviet spies of the era and was told that not only would he not read anything from CIA, but he would never allow such a class to be taught.
3. As far as I know, I was the ONLY person on earth who talked about the CIA revelations. In the latest issue of STUDIES IN INTELLIGENCE the CIA magazine, it is revealed that the decision to release the Family Jewels was based on the academic and press worlds having no idea how to deal with the McCarthy revelations.
4. I spoke twice on the story. When I spoke to military students the class was quiet for a long time afterwards. Stunned disbelief I call it. The question I got more often than not, was that the CIA couldn't have that much power. The second place I spoke at was a meeting of socialists and leftists. They burst into long, thunderous applause twice after I was finished. The comments I heard were often based around, "the reseach can't be touched" and "Now it makes sense what happened!"! People who had in some cases for decades believed the CIA spin (as we all had) and used it for their own propaganda, "got it" the fastest.
5. I did lose a few friends over the story, and even got a few death threats (which I ignored). Friends who knew me challenged me over simple things. I was accused of being a CIA spy. I was told women I was sleeping with I couldn't be. People who had been to my plays actually questioned if I'd ever done a play! Implying I guess some CIA agent must have actually created them. When I discovered I couldn't spell out McCarthy's name on a blog mirror I had to set up as so many people were coming to the original site, because of the numbers of letters I dropped one letter. This was seized on as proof that the entire story was false and made up by me.
Even though there was a link to the CIA website with the information! It was all very Kafkaesque.
6. I don't know if other outlets would like me to give the talk, but I certainly wouldn't mind doing it. Email me.
Posted at 10:27 am by Psychomike
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Sunday, September 30, 2007
Trippin' With Duane Allman
Hitchin' A Ride
Long before rappers called each other "Dog", that nickname was used by Duane Allman. The girls called him Skydog.
With Duane's long face, mutton like sideburns he did kind of resemble a puppy.
The Great Speckled Bird was the underground paper in Atlanta that I became the high school correspondent for and also sold to make ends meet. I was living in a duplex house, 3 floors with two roommates. Our rent was $90 a month, which meant with gas and electric, we had to come up with around $45 each for bills. It was very cheap to be a hippie. The Bird had wisely latched onto the music scene in Piedmont Park that had begun by accident. The Hampton Grease Band (who make an early appearance on The Mothers Of Invention LUMPY GRAVY album) spotted electrical plugs in the ground and set up to play. No one stopped them.
The Hampton Grease Band improvised a music set- during a riot! More on that later......
There were no permits necessary. Bands began to show up and just play. The Bird created a music scene by making these weekend free music scenes the focal point of the emerging hippie scene, but it was the Allman Brothers who began to attract several thousand fans every time they played.
Duane was people. The day the band signed a record contract I congratulated him as he walked by me. I was sitting on the sidewalk selling the Bird, he stopped, said hello to me and sat down next to me on the sidewalk. He talked about what it meant to sign, how now they had to get better equipment and they had to do sets, not just jamming away as the mood struck them onstage.
Greg was not. I congratulated him when he walked by me later and he didn't even turn to say thanks. Was I surprised when he later married Cher? No.
Those weekends watching one of the greatest guitarists ever play I will never forget.
But that isn't my favorite Duane story.
When a new batch of acid was around dealers would go to the hardcore and give away hits to the hippies on the street that wanted them. It was marketing. By the weekend the reviews were in and the thousands of weekenders arrived and would search out and buy the highly praised hits. I was always on the strip, so when given the chance to try the latest orange barrel I said sure.
I never had a bad trip, and often wondered how others did. It wasn't until years later that I realized in those days there was no treatment or medication for depression. If someone had an anxiety attack or bout with depression, doctors told them to snap out of it. That was it. Judging from the numbers of people on anti-depressants today, there were many people who should have avoided psychedelics. In those days the thought was LSD was causing anxiety and depression attacks, today a doctor would treat the patient for bi-polar or depression issues.
So I've taken the orange barrel and no longer feel like selling The Bird and camp out on the sidewalk. The tingling in my jaw had given way to a big grin and then
Duane comes up and we talk, and he asks me what I think about the blues.
Like most southern white kids, I knew B.B. King and that was about it. I knew the UK bands that were influenced by the blues, The Animals, The Yardbirds, John Mayall and the Bluesbreakers, The Stones but knew next to nothing about actual blues music.
He invited me to ride on his bike to his place and listen to his blues collection, and I accepted.
Riding on the back of a motorcycle tripping my ass off wasn't part of my non-plan for the evening, but I went with the flow.
Duane was the first person I ever met that collected records. He had 78's, 45's, albums and music sold in little towns in Mississippi but nowhere else. He opened a bottle of wine and produced a joint and I sat down to listen.
From Delta blues to Chicago, from the Cajun country of Louisiana to the shanties of Alabama, for the next 8 hours I got the ultimate lesson on the blues. He would tell me the region, what he knew of the artist and the stories of jail, chaingangs, riding the rails, falling in love with the wrong woman- everyone liked the blues but no one wanted to have the blues. For 8 hours I got a course on the blues from Duane while tripping.
I passed out on the couch with the sound of Duane playing his slide guitar.............
Posted at 07:42 am by Psychomike
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Saturday, October 06, 2007
FOOTNOTE: Everyone was on something
AMERICA LOVED BOOZE
When World War 2 ended there was no awareness of post stress disorder. Soldiers who secretly sought psychiatric advice (so as not to jeopardize getting a job) discovered science had nothing for them. A pat on the back, the words "put it behind you", and a fee.
Booze became the crutch, the self medication for the nation. The IRS allowed businessmen to take two martini's off each lunch. Martini's weren't fruit cocktails as they are today, that was a full glass of gin or vodka with a whisper of vermouth. Two. For lunch!
Alcohol became the fuel of the nation. Our economy soared, people kept well stocked bars in their homes. A pitcher of martinis for when dad got home for work? Hey, teach the kids to do it!
As society separated between the straights and freaks, straights got bombed on booze. Being drunk was fun. Comedians, singers, TV shows incorporated drunks into the entertainment field. In Chicago a ten or 20 dollar bill behind your driver's license could keep you from being arrested on a DUI. $10.
Because everyone drank.
When an Andy Griffith reunion show appeared, Otis the town drunk had to be shown as sober. This was not the case in the original show!
STOP AND DRINK was a cop bar I went to when I first came to Chicago. Off Chicago Avenue (it is now a yuppie bar) I walked in just in time to see a drunk cop fire his gun into the ceiling, egged on by his also drunk pals. It was 2 in the afternoon. They were all working.
But at least they weren't smoking pot!
Foster Brooks lived long enough to see his appearances dry up when making drunk jokes became politically incorrect.
Whenever we heard that the YAF group (the conservative version of SDS) or Young Republicans were meeting we would wait until the party had been going on at least two hours and show up. They had loads of free booze, and the first time I did this I walked into the lobby of a hotel to see a guy projectile vomit into a planter. There were already people passed out on furniture in the lobby. We were never quizzed doing this, because even these groups security were wasted.
So we hippies weren't the only ones getting high. The whole country was using booze.
Frankie Fontaine was a huge hit playing a drunk on The Jackie Gleason Show
When work was over, bars filled up every night of the week as people drank their way through rush hour. To go home and have a drink, and then watch people pretending to be drunk. Our greatest period of economic growth, of the creation of the suburbs and two car garages, was squeezed out of a bar rag.
Dean Martin made drinking in public and onstage cool- though often it was a gag and there was often no booze in the glass.
Hippies had booze too. God awful wines like Boone's Farm, purchased because they were so cheap.
I had some friends who were jocks who had heard I was starting to go hang out with hippies and they decided to try and rescue me, with a 1960's version of an intervention.
They invited me over when they were trying to make New York (aka Long Island) Iced Teas, made out of about 5 to 7 kinds of booze, but they had no recipe for and were playing hit and miss.
As one told me how stupid pot was he threw up on himself, staring at the string of spittle from his lips to his shirt. One of his pals chimed in that pot was stupid. That was pretty much the argument they all had, as they searched for the real Iced Tea.
None of those gathered could even walk.
I quietly left and headed home, looking forward to a joint.
Posted at 12:40 pm by Psychomike
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