What's with this guy, is he a glutton for punishment or what? You'd think he had enough of these roofs but, no, with winter blowing cold winds down his neck and drenching him with rain, he runs outside as soon as the sun shines and cuts trees into poles, peels the bark, builds the frame, hauls in metal roofing and whacks away at a job he promised done years ago and by garsh this year it's gonna be done! By Garsh!


Returning home from work, a man was shocked to find his house
ransacked and burglarized. He telephoned the police at once and
reported the crime. The police dispatcher broadcast the call on the radio, and a K-9 unit, patrolling nearby was the first to respond.

As the K-9 officer approached the house with his dog on a leash, the
man ran out on the porch, gasped at the sight of the cop and his dog, then sat down on the steps. He put his face in his hands and moaned.

"I come home to find all my possessions stolen. I call the police for help, and what do they do? They send me a BLIND policeman."


It's getting awfully cold out there at night. A sad reality. It is time again for Skypilots to dig out their old warm garments and drop them down at the local rescue mission in your home town or city.

These folks are more in need than they were last year. Nothing has been done for them to get them off the streets. Poverty is a sad reality in our country today. A warm jacket is as good as gold to these folks.

Pass the word. Homeless Americans are a sad reality. It's up to us to make their plight more tolerable in these cold months ahead.

-- Pilot 18 AKA Les Tacocaster Paul


I was doing the dishes after supper when the phone rang. I dried my hands and answered. The guy said, "I know the name Tyron Wilmington doesn't ring a bell--"
And I said, "Does the name Quasimodo ring a bell?"
And he said no and I said, "He was the hunchback of Notre Dame, remember the movie? He pulled the ropes that rang the bells."
"I'm too young to remember that movie."
"Come on, Disney made a version. How about Notre Dame, ever hear of that?"

"Yeah, the football team."
"Well, a university, too, but first the cathedral in Paris. You know what notre dame means, don't you? Our lady. And you know who our lady is in the Catholic church, none other than the mother of Jesus.
Notre Dame had a black football coach there for a while, Tyron Willingham, but they fired him. Not because he was black or had a poor winning record. Turned out he was protestant."
"I'm calling in behalf of the Special Olympics," he said, trying to get this conversation back on track.
"There you go. You should know Quasimodo then. He was the Special Olympics bell ringing champion, 32 years in a row. A humpback, so he definitely qualified."
"So could I put you down for a donation--"
"Aw shit, the sink's running over!"
I hung up and went back to the dishes. Tsccchh, these phone solicitors. The do not call registry I signed up for a couple weeks ago should kick in any time now. Too bad they don't have a do not spam registry. I made the mistake of going to a website and giving them my email address. Now I'm spammed up the gump stump.
-- Capn Skyp

capn, this logo is so cool, especially the red balloon.
It resonates with my ancestry. My great uncle Eddie
Orr was a flying defender of balloons strung above the
Western front during WWI. One fine day he and his
rear gunner fought off eight German biplanes, and
saved an Allied observation balloon in Sept. 1918.
Two weeks later, somehow his fighter biplane
got tangled in the anchor wires of an Allied balloon
and he plummeted to his death. He was on a scouting
mission all by himself. Chicago newspaper
accounts say his body had a smile on his face
when rescuers found him. (observation
balloons were a big deal back in those days,
before radar) Edward Orr won the Distinguished
Service Cross posthumously awarded by Black Jack
Pershing his own self. Pic is of Eddie in 1918.
-- Brian Orr



Skypilot Sam, #22, at the dedication of the Jerry Garcia Ampitheater.
Mayor Gavin Newsome is at the rear, doing the dedication.
photo by skypilot Really

Today is the dedication of the Jerry Garcia Amphitheater in McLaren Park which is in southern San Francisco in the Excelsior district where Jerry grew up. A group of citizens generated enough interest and the City named the beautiful outdoor amphitheater after Jerry. MG was at the Rex board meeting last night and is in town.


Hey Capn,

Here's a picture from Chet Fest in the park yesterday.
Twas brillig, and a wonderful time was had by all. The
photo's not very good (taken with my cell phone cam)
but it gives a little sense of the scene.

I've never been to a free concert in the city that was
allowed to go past nightfall, but the powers that be
allowed the show to go on til late, amazingly enough.
It was a perfect autumn day, clear, warm, cloudless,
and even the fogless at night. It looked like around
40,000 people were there, but the paper estimated

I rode my bike to the park and got there a little
late, but some highlights included sets by Barry
Melton, Blue Cheer, Jefferson Starship, Nick
Gravenites singing Good Night Irene, Lydia Pense and
Cold Blood, Quicksilver Gold, Zero II, etc.

The show was big, really big, with the crowd spilling
over to the Polo Fields. Stilt walkers, dragonfly
kites, giant butterflies, parades, art cars, incense,
sunshine, eucalyptus trees waving in the wind, lots of
kids, dogs, toothless street warriors, happy freaks,
dancing masses, it was a grand old time.

Though more of a party/concert atmosphere, it reminded
me a little of Ken Kesey's memorial at the McDonald
theater, a hero's burial with all the tribes in
attendance. There was an epic, historic feeling,
people getting together to pay tribute to a man whose
pure vision and spirit helped break new ground and
made the world a better, more fun place to live.

ps the Garcia amphitheater dedication was also grand.

-- Rosannah
skypilot #30


A few lucky people might get to

To ride with the Merry Pranksters on Ken Kesey's FURTHER to Vegas and back for the Acid Test 40th Anniversary and other festivities happening in Vegas (see Vegoose). That is about 1500 miles, 7 days (give or take). A ticket to the Acid Test. A Merry Prankster all access laminate.

We should leave on Oct 27th (early) and return on Nov. 2 (late). We will help you find hotel rooms each night (we might even have some reserved for you in Vegas, at a special rate). We will parade around Vegas with a crew on top in the days before the Test to take in the sights, help promote the event, and just be generally silly! We will be at the Vegoose events (see http://www.vegoose.com/index.htm) promoting the Acid Test and selling tickets and goods from a table.

You may be called on to push start the bus if the battery dies. You may be asked to help hand out flyers for the Acid Test while wearing silly outfits. You may be called on to act as bus security for brief periods when we leave the bus alone. You may be asked to take pictures, or run a video camera. You may be asked to be onstage...

..for now I am just seeing if any are interested in traveling with us on this historic trip of a lifetime? The cost would be around $950 (for a week with us and the bus and be part of the ACID TEST)

if interested...first come, first served...very limited (maybe 4 people?) then call 541-484-4315 or email keyz@key-z.com

-- zane kesey

for more, click on:


For more news about AT 40 and the moving of the original furtherbus out of its hideyhole and onto dry land, go to



C'mon, Jack, I yelled at the dog. Let's go out to the mailbox and stick this letter in. He struggled to his feet and we went out and I said, race you, and got on my bike and we tore out the drive and stuck the letter in the box and headed back to the house, ripping around the curve, Jack on me tight, too tight, for I took the curve too wide, my front wheel hit a little stump next to the drive, the dog yelped, the bike leaped, spun, threw me down hard on my elbow, skidded across my back

bike ridden by professional cyclist
don't try this at home

and legs and left me lying underneath, ricocheting in every direction from the pain, brought back to earth by the dog sticking his nose in my face, c'mon, what you doing, get up, let's go, the race isn't over yet. Nor won by the swift, I muttered, crawling out from under the bike. I was going to let it lie where it lay but it was blocking the drive so I pulled it into the grass and walked back to the house.

this is done by a professional dog
don't let your pet try this at home

A shower and an elbow wrap on my elbow with a thick layer of tiger balm, some band aids over the cuts and scratches, clean clothes, and I was ready for a big drink, a percodan and a long nap.

this is a real elbow on a real person
avoid this on your planet

3 days later, getting better, swelling down, good bruises

-- Capn Skyp




Houston Chronicle reported on September 15th that
Roger Clemens' mother, on her deathbed, mentioned a
vision of Shoeless Joe Jackson counting his money
before putting it in an old sock and stuffing it in his shoe
and from then on never wearing the shoe because
it was too lumpy, just like your head, Roger, she said,
and he replied, it's from graduating from the school of hard knocks, Mom.

the vision was
Roger Clemens limping off the field
at the end of the 2nd inning,
down the dugout steps
and into the clubhouse,
parting the cornstalks.
and his mother had warned him
about the lump in the shoes
that made for shoeless Joe
and the tear in the leg
that made for hamstrung Roger

Blast heard around the town
down southside up northside

When Konerko hit the grand slam to put his team ahead
at home in the World Series
I told my son it doesn't get any better than that
then when Podsednik won the game in the 9th
I said, I guess it does,
Baseball binds the generations in this town,
teary eyed middle aged men
staring at the diamond in disbelief
remembering fathers and grandfathers
and brothers
and sunday afternoon doubleheaders
and practicing World Series game winning home run
radio calls
in backyard ballgames
on the southside

-- Sgt. O'Reilly in chicago and Capn Skyp at hdqs