MONDAY, MARCH 28, 2005

I'M BAAAAAACK!

Left home in the rain on Thursday morning past with the car packed full of food goodies and drinks and all the gear needed for the upcoming talk in Eureka California at the College of the Redwoods, long slow drive down I-5 to Grants Pass then west on 199 along the Illinois River then over the California border along the Smith River on narrow winding road with giant redwoods so close to the road you could see the scars from cars scraping their sides and burst out into the sun with the Pacific rolling in and us rolling to a stop and out of the car and clothes and into the ocean squealing like little kids on the final few days of spring break lollygagging south toward Eureka, demolishing the time left to play until the necessary seven PM dinner at the hotel we've been assigned and walking in at the dot to meet the hosts and friends and pursue the 1800 bottles of wine priced from 1500 bucks to a mere 30 for a mere merlot and you can guess which one I picked out not knowing they were picking up the tab and after a three hour eat we finally hit the hay to be ready for Friday and the radio talk shows, the visitation of the writing class at the college, the realization I left my show outfit at home so must buy a local logo shirt at the bookstore and then a TV interview and finally a drink and tonic at the Whaler's Inn, authentic whaling town on the coast and yes they were sperm whales and whew the smell must have been riotous but no time not time we must whoosh back to the hotel to shower shave and shine and back to the college for the talk in a great auditorium, the vidie slide show in the background, and yes, once as the audience yelled, look, look it is happening, as I was talking about a cop stop the cop was stoppin the bus on the screen, and from then on it was total pandemonium as I was stripping down every five mintues to a new outfit hidden under the top outfit until the climatic ending when Capn Skyp hisself appeared in tights and shorts and club shirt and cape and goggles and aviator's cap doing the James Brown swoon with wife Eileen helping me up and off the stage and out the door to the Whaler's Inn once agin but the kitchen was closed so it was hie to Eureka and search the streets for a place to eat not believing on a Friday night everything was closed at ten PM except for a brew pub with excellent clam chowder and finally to bed and luxurious sleep in but must head for home and soon as we cross the Oregon border we hit the rain relentlessly and on I-5 again we are getting funny looks and pointed fingers and the car is pulling to the left badly so we stop and look and yes the tire is almost flat and to think it was sixty five mph in that condition, what a tire, but all the tire places are closed by now so nothing to do but buy one of those cans you shoot the stop leak stuff into the tire and fill it with air and head for home and now leak no mo and we arrive safely and crash quickly because next day is Easter and family is coming for eggs and fire in the fire place and rain pouring and wind howling and spaghetti dinner and gallons of wine and oncet more oily to bed oily to rise, spring break is broke and back to work for wife and to school for daughter and five forty five in the AM still comes at same time as always and whew, now I can get caught up on those dishes.

-- Capn skyp


Capn,

What's with that house?

-- skypilot loyd

we called it the adams family catastrophe
but it was really a house built by the
timber baron of eureka and since
restored and now a club for exclusives
of which I do not care to be one
or two or however many it takes
to chage the lightbulbs in that house


 

Can You Pass the Acid Test? This is a button from the last Acid Test put on by the Merry Pranksters in Los Angeles right as Kesey was fleeing to Mexico to avoid arrest. It was pinned to my shirt as I stumbled into the "dance" along with a big stamp on the back of my hand that showed up under the blacklight. Further was pulled into the huge Cathay Studio lot as the sun was coming up the next morning and the Pranksters were loading up to leave. I have a piece of psychedelic fur from the crazy costume Neal Cassady wore as he cleared the floor in the center of the room that night by swinging his hammer in a wild dance.

-- Rarezela


Mike Doyle in the bay area asked me if I could remember anything about Kepler's bookstore in Menlo Park from the days I was going to Stanford. I told him all I could remember was browsing through books and then came up with this:

It was June, 1964, at Kesey's place in La Honda. The bus, Further,
was outfitted, ready to head out across country, destination
Madhattan for the publication party of Sometimes a Great
Notion, plus the World's Fair.

Kesey asked if anyone had seen Neal Cassady. Ron Bevirt said he just
came from Kepler's and Neal was there so Kesey sent Bevirt down to
get him. A while later a smoking Buick, radio blaring Love Potion
Number Nine, pulled in and Cassady swaggered out and was astounded
when Kesey asked him if he'd drive the bus.

"Well, I suppose I could get off a couple weeks from the tire recap
job but I promised Carolyn I'd paint the house tomorrow. You mean
we'd be making movies? I'd be a film star in my declining years?"

"There's nothing I'd rather do for you," Kesey said.

There was a small matter of a hundred dollars to give to Carolyn and
that settled it. The bus was on its way.

-- Capn Skyp


FRIDAY, MARCH 4, 2005

Here are a couple of local characters wandering around pushing their bicycles and insights, flat tires and all.

"We're sleeping most of the time, in the arms of the mother tiger, strength unbelievable compared to our puny-ness, until we muster ourselves and with grace we have built up with work on our selves are allowed to awake and leap from her arms."

"Then the circus master shows us how to tap a stick with three prongs that touch the ground, to bring the tigers that face us menacingly, hungrily, under control, so they circle in beautiful artistic performance before us, and we are not eaten up by them."

-- submitted by Reno Chris


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