All the musicians used to gather in the soundproof music listening room that was a plush affair. The bass player, Alan Langhoff mooned out the whole school from this room leaving a butt print on the window. Alan was bit eccentric appearing like a Harpo lookalike of the time. He brightened many a depressed student during those years.
One day, I wandered into a lecture given by an FBI agent. His topic was the mafioso in New Orleans led by Carlos Marcello. His lecture actually brought tears to my eyes as he described the cruelty of these gangsters. He illustrated this by describing the individual's parenting skills. His daughter would not stop crying. He put her in one of those dog shipping crates. She stayed in this cage for weeks before her father was arrested and the FBI finally broke into the apt. This little child was so traumatized she could not stand upright for a long time. Her hair had been raggedly cut and she was fed dog food the whole time. This is just one short story about the Italian lifestyles in New Orleans. I still love Spamoni ice cream though. I sat down and reflected on this lecture for quite awhile. Everytime I saw a Gambino Bakery I remembered this child.
There was so much happening at this tight campus during those years. I bought the Blond on Blond album. I was probably the first to have that record in the City. I took statistical analysis along with algebra both of which sank my grade point to a danger level. The last straw was Chem 2B. I had to change my major to psychology which I was not interested in. Statistical Analysis was the show stopper. Funny how one thing leads to another. I was forced to drop out and retreated inwardly.
The bookstore became my refuge since I wanted to know everything. I would stand there reading until the store closed late into the night. Exhausted, I would catch the Elysian Fields bus to Gentilly Blvd. and walk the few blocks home to Jasmine St. all at my Mothers expense since she was bankrolling my education.
One day, I wandered into a lecture given by an FBI agent. His topic was the mafioso in New Orleans led by Carlos Marcello. His lecture actually brought tears to my eyes as he described the cruelty of these gangsters. He illustrated this by describing the individual's parenting skills. His daughter would not stop crying. He put her in one of those dog shipping crates. She stayed in this cage for weeks before her father was arrested and the FBI finally broke into the apt. This little child was so traumatized she could not stand upright for a long time. Her hair had been raggedly cut and she was fed dog food the whole time. This is just one short story about the Italian lifestyles in New Orleans. I still love Spamoni ice cream though. I sat down and reflected on this lecture for quite awhile. Everytime I saw a Gambino Bakery I remembered this child.
There was so much happening at this tight campus during those years. I bought the Blond on Blond album. I was probably the first to have that record in the City. I took statistical analysis along with algebra both of which sank my grade point to a danger level. The last straw was Chem 2B. I had to change my major to psychology which I was not interested in. Statistical Analysis was the show stopper. Funny how one thing leads to another. I was forced to drop out and retreated inwardly.
The bookstore became my refuge since I wanted to know everything. I would stand there reading until the store closed late into the night. Exhausted, I would catch the Elysian Fields bus to Gentilly Blvd. and walk the few blocks home to Jasmine St. all at my Mothers expense since she was bankrolling my education.
I remember getting so sick my stool turned black. This was as bad as it gets when you are home alone and can't take good care of yourself. I lost weight and my swimmers muscles atrophied at a very fast rate. Something was killing me and I didn't have a clue as to the nature of my illness. My Mother knew not what to do for me. And just as quickly, I got better and better. I finally could start repairing the damage to my education and my body. I went to work at the only job available to me, waiting tables in Vaucresson's Restaurant on Bourbon St.
The people I met in this working environment were certainly different and struggling with life. I remember the cooks well. They would start early making the gumbo. They would continually add ingredients throughout the day such as seafood, chicken, bits of meat, celery and of course, spices.
The people I met in this working environment were certainly different and struggling with life. I remember the cooks well. They would start early making the gumbo. They would continually add ingredients throughout the day such as seafood, chicken, bits of meat, celery and of course, spices.
It was my goal to become a spice merchant in New Orleans. I saw myself going to different countries and arranging for shipments. In New Orleans you must have a job or you could wind up on the streets like so many, dying in the doorways. It takes a long time to die that way. You lose your job in the summer and by winter you will die by the old man's friend called Pneumonia. Where did that long lost uncle go? If he went to the big city and failed then this is what killed him, either that or a cold jail cell. They don't heat the prisons. It is better today but it is the hardest life I know.
A young man's only real hope is his family. This is why many joined the service. This is hardly an escape but it does toughen and change you to the point that you are focused on one thing, surviving. You can learn a skill that will be useful in your life. It will keep you out of the criminal's way of life.
There is nothing easy in this world from my point of view. If by some chance you got a free ride to success then don't squander the chance to do some good with it. There are piles and piles of corpses that all say the same thing. Life is hard then you die.
My scouting friend Ricky Spain, wanted to be a working songwriter as well. He wrote many songs. I can only remember one splendid hook he composed and incorporated in his music. It went like this: 'If I was traveling on, I'd stay and be your man' This to me epitomizes the youthful angst of the times. Ricky would also use the Hovel as a springboard into the world of performance music . He would show up in red suspenders and captivate his audience with a western drawl and a sincere longing that brought him appreciation from the audience. Not all understood the intellectualism his ballads brought. I lived with Ricky for a winter in the French Quarter.
There is nothing easy in this world from my point of view. If by some chance you got a free ride to success then don't squander the chance to do some good with it. There are piles and piles of corpses that all say the same thing. Life is hard then you die.
My scouting friend Ricky Spain, wanted to be a working songwriter as well. He wrote many songs. I can only remember one splendid hook he composed and incorporated in his music. It went like this: 'If I was traveling on, I'd stay and be your man' This to me epitomizes the youthful angst of the times. Ricky would also use the Hovel as a springboard into the world of performance music . He would show up in red suspenders and captivate his audience with a western drawl and a sincere longing that brought him appreciation from the audience. Not all understood the intellectualism his ballads brought. I lived with Ricky for a winter in the French Quarter.
We shared the apt. for a long winter eating Campbell's Tomato Soup. That's when my step brother was kicked out and became homeless. We took him in for awhile until he joined the Navy and went to Vietnam. Crystal suddenly became my live in girlfriend. She was a veteran groupie from Miami with connections to the Blues Image people. We met one night in the Quarter and she followed me home. She made the best tuna casserole ever.
Roger Asher visited many times and was trying to get me to participate in the music business. He had been to the west coast got hooked on speed came back and got busted for dope that same year. He was selling real estate for his father. Funny how all this happened in one winter..
My nervous system was in shock, my body was missing essential nutrients. I was carrying way too many credits at school to do well. My grade was slipping closer to the cutoff of 2.0. I had to do something. I simply moved back home and got deathly ill. I woke up in the hospital and nearly died except for my parents recognizing how bad I had gotten . I was hospitalized with little fanfare. No one came to see me except Mike, my brother. No one at all.
Back in those days, we were watching the sky for spaceships. Why we did that I could not tell you. It could have been the Mobile Bay incident when two people were abducted and subsequently released.
Back in those days, we were watching the sky for spaceships. Why we did that I could not tell you. It could have been the Mobile Bay incident when two people were abducted and subsequently released.
These events were incredibly interesting to me because I wanted out of my life situation of continuous hard work and a low paying 7 day a week job. This kind of life direction was all I had to look forward to. The best I could do was a waiters job.
Survival was my only option. I was hoping for rescue which never comes even though they know you are drowning.
This is when I joined the International Gawkers Society. I was a card carrying, fun loving IGS founding member. Laughing at troubles didn't get you free of trouble. It was just better than crying. Trouble was coming every day.
I suddenly used the old rule of thumb and left for the west coast with 50 bucks in my pocket hidden somewhere on my person. I began my journey to Nowhere Soon. During those years of 1968 1969 and 1970 I attended many festivals that brought to together many millions of people who enjoyed life in the fast lane. I went to many of them with Miami Pop Festival being the first. I hitched the whole way to Miami and the Gulfstream fairgrounds where the festival was held. There I met Decky who knew Jerry Jeff Walker. We stayed at Jerry's bungalow for a few days after the festival. This was an art festival as well with many artists displaying their creations. The bill was exceptional with James Brown and the Famous Flames as well as, many rock groups that had suddenly become famous on the backs of the bluesmen. The blues being the foundation of most jazz players.
I was skipping school at UNO to analyze these festivals. Suddenly it was summer again and the New Orleans pop festival was happening at the Speedway out on Hwy 61. The date was the Labor Day weekend of 1969.
I suddenly used the old rule of thumb and left for the west coast with 50 bucks in my pocket hidden somewhere on my person. I began my journey to Nowhere Soon. During those years of 1968 1969 and 1970 I attended many festivals that brought to together many millions of people who enjoyed life in the fast lane. I went to many of them with Miami Pop Festival being the first. I hitched the whole way to Miami and the Gulfstream fairgrounds where the festival was held. There I met Decky who knew Jerry Jeff Walker. We stayed at Jerry's bungalow for a few days after the festival. This was an art festival as well with many artists displaying their creations. The bill was exceptional with James Brown and the Famous Flames as well as, many rock groups that had suddenly become famous on the backs of the bluesmen. The blues being the foundation of most jazz players.
I was skipping school at UNO to analyze these festivals. Suddenly it was summer again and the New Orleans pop festival was happening at the Speedway out on Hwy 61. The date was the Labor Day weekend of 1969.
Ricky and I went to see this festival as well as many of the young and restless of New Orleans. I never expected anything to happen. Ricky brought some acid and we dropped together. As I started to trip, I lost Ricky in the crowds around the stage. I didn't realize much because I had done nothing but be present. I looked around and the whole speedway became a swirl of orderly light slowly forming a vortex. I became the man to receive the golden Light of Love. I was directed onstage to witness the Jefferson Airplane followed by the Grateful Dead from San Fransisco. Janis Joplin was there as well as Jimi Hendrix. The music was incredibly loud and my teeth started aching making enjoying it unbearable. I was tripping watching the music turn into colors and shapes as I had been sitting in front of Jack Cassidy's speakers that projected all sorts of shapes and new dimensions. This went on for an hour and suddenly it was over, but not for me.
I could not seem to leave the stage. I was encouraged to follow the single thread of light. It continually got smaller and smaller until I finally had to sit down in the lotus position and look up. The one long haired equipment manager surrounded me with amps. I was now in command, so to speak. As the honey colored light descended from the single spotlight, I became afraid. I needed to know what this was all about. I saw a young hippy watching me from the shadows and I beckoned him to come and explain this phenomena. He came alright. He asked me one question...How much do you know? I couldn't answer it. What sort of answer was he looking for? I just wanted this ordeal to be over. I pondered it for a minute...I got up.... the light retreated and people started to pack up the equipment.
There was a single folding chair at the edge of the stage. I took a seat to watch the glorious sunrise. I finally needed to get up and go search for water...after 4 hours your body just demands water and nourishment. I wandered down the stairs and across the field.
There was a single folding chair at the edge of the stage. I took a seat to watch the glorious sunrise. I finally needed to get up and go search for water...after 4 hours your body just demands water and nourishment. I wandered down the stairs and across the field.
The same hippy came up to me. I knew not what to say. I just wanted to get home and rest. I soon wandered away still tripping. I came to a house and asked the old woman for water. She gave me a drink but was completely afraid of me. The horse knew something was different about this strange man. I normally get along with horses. The trick is a simple offering of food. After a few more minutes watching the clouds and sun express themselves in a tormented way, the police showed up and offered me ride back to New Orleans. She must have called the police. These guys were very kind and dropped me off at my Mothers house on Jasmine St. I locked myself in my room and would not come out for three days. I finally collapsed in bed but woke up still tripping like crazy.
I had to come down. This is a clearly as I remember that day of Sept 3rd 1969. My Mother was very concerned about me. I could not explain what was going on only smile at her. I had school the next day and I managed to make all my classes but was still tripping. The lectures were directed at me for some reason. I garnered a little bit of respect but that was wasted. After class, I started to wander again. There was a circular power plant that was open. I circled it and found my way inside. Then for some unknown reason, I started to disrobe. They called the campus police and the took me to the Dean of Men. I was in his office when I started to peak. I collapsed and the police held my head up in the exact position to receive more energy from the sun.
After that, and a trip to the hospital I was given Thorazine to eventually come down. Docs recognized I was incredibly high and this was the treatment.. The downer part was taking front and center now. They called my Mother who was working downtown. She rushed to my beside. I could do nothing but sob at my foolishness. She finally took me home. I was expelled from school for many months and when I did return to the University things had changed.
I was never the same after that ordeal. I stopped having contact with my friends who always had drugs. I could no longer concentrate but was constantly distracted by the afterglow.
I continued to write for street rags like the New Orleans Express and In Your Ear. These were music reviews. I attended many concerts completely free with a seat always right down in front. With pen in hand, I documented groups like the Allman Brothers, Elton John, Steppenwolf, Little Feat and many others with the artistic quality of youthful admiration. Those days will live forever in my memory. I received free records from distributors to listen to.
I had to come down. This is a clearly as I remember that day of Sept 3rd 1969. My Mother was very concerned about me. I could not explain what was going on only smile at her. I had school the next day and I managed to make all my classes but was still tripping. The lectures were directed at me for some reason. I garnered a little bit of respect but that was wasted. After class, I started to wander again. There was a circular power plant that was open. I circled it and found my way inside. Then for some unknown reason, I started to disrobe. They called the campus police and the took me to the Dean of Men. I was in his office when I started to peak. I collapsed and the police held my head up in the exact position to receive more energy from the sun.
After that, and a trip to the hospital I was given Thorazine to eventually come down. Docs recognized I was incredibly high and this was the treatment.. The downer part was taking front and center now. They called my Mother who was working downtown. She rushed to my beside. I could do nothing but sob at my foolishness. She finally took me home. I was expelled from school for many months and when I did return to the University things had changed.
I was never the same after that ordeal. I stopped having contact with my friends who always had drugs. I could no longer concentrate but was constantly distracted by the afterglow.
I continued to write for street rags like the New Orleans Express and In Your Ear. These were music reviews. I attended many concerts completely free with a seat always right down in front. With pen in hand, I documented groups like the Allman Brothers, Elton John, Steppenwolf, Little Feat and many others with the artistic quality of youthful admiration. Those days will live forever in my memory. I received free records from distributors to listen to.
Susie Quattro came to NO to play in City Park. I reviewed her act as well as Jimi Hendrix who was just incredible. Live fast die young was the way we all did it. Nothing but the Blues.
I was promoting a festival at the University hosted by the Ecology Club. I was a founding member. These festivals attracted such acts as Poppa Duke and the Mud People who came late in the night to play their music. These festivals are still going on even today out there on the lakefront at the old Camp Leroy Johnson which was given to the University of New Orleans as part of a state grant.
I was promoting a festival at the University hosted by the Ecology Club. I was a founding member. These festivals attracted such acts as Poppa Duke and the Mud People who came late in the night to play their music. These festivals are still going on even today out there on the lakefront at the old Camp Leroy Johnson which was given to the University of New Orleans as part of a state grant.
This made it possible for the music to have its complete expression in an unrestricted environment. For good or bad, the music lives on in the people who hear.
No comments:
Post a Comment