Saturday, April 30, 2016

True Water Beavers, Thoughts on

In 1967 my parents took a monthlong tour of Europe, leaving me, my brother and sister with my aunt and uncle in Milton Mass in some pseudo farm and horse country outside of Boston. This was a serious dislocation from my high school friends who I was sure we're having the most wonderful summer ever at North Beach In the day and the Point at night. All I had was records I’d brung along [Happy Jack, Electric Music for the Mind and Body, The Grateful Dead, Moby Grape and Sgt. Peppers(5a)] and a little turntable. That is like: background.

One night on tv there was a show about ‘hippies’. They had these guys on, and I would bet they were from the commune that John identified: The True Light Beavers. The joke was one of them had a basketball uniform top on saying “True Light Beavers”. I knew it was a put on. And I liked it. They took their name from the shirt they found at a Goodwill. Are you religious? The moderator asked. Yes, they said. Our religion is called the True Light Beavers. We worship garbage. I took this back to Racine with me, but I guess I came back with True Water Beavers rather than True Light. Rashomon!

When I got back people were glad to see me. (This was a first). And I told them what I saw in Boston. I was able to show them what I saw, cause I had 21 Fillmore posters.  There was a dance at Lakeside. Henken, Murray, Bob LaFrance, Bill Little and me found a tank on the outskirts of town. Got in it, and sang Fugs song. I can remember Baby You’re a Rich Man coming out on the radio, driving around, maybe, with John and Bob Stepien. I told all about the True Water Beavers.

[One night some of us decided to start both a religion and a band the following day. In the spirit of the Beavers we were going to make our instruments from organic matter. The next day, at the beach, where we were to meet up, I think only two guys but me showed up. I’d say Dave Murray and Bob LaFrance. Making instruments out of tree twigs was not easy We didn't have a quorum so that was that. ]

And then I assume it was the next winter and we were in film art class. And John and Al and Bob made a movie I joined in on. Like the Monkees or Hard Days Night. But one of y'all sure got the feel for stop-motion – it was rollicking -  sound track was Joan Collins…From Lawrence Welk playing ragtime (Rampart St Stomp)…and a title was needed for the film: and John selected: “So you want to be a Beaver.” So that’s the story from my recollection. -Jack

Saturday, April 23, 2016

The Daily Triple - Syria, Kurd flare up

click to enlarge

Happy Bard Day - Black Vespers' Pageants

On Shakespeare's birthday...

BLUE: Shakespeare is gone now, man, a long time. I ask: Who so ably hears...

RED: ... The signal of the spirits buzzing like Black Vespers in the aire?


From David Garrick's Ode to Shakespeare ...

When our Magician, more inspir’d,
By charms, and spells, and incantations fir’d,
Exerts his most tremendous pow’r;
The thunder growls, the heavens low’r,
And to his darken’d throne repair,

The Demons of the deep, and Spirits of the air!


There's to bard hisself.. I was thinnin' about All Along the WatchTower.. ran a concordance ["tower" ] on Shakespeare..and lo and behold an idea for a song: The Black Vesper Stomp.

Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish;
A vapour sometime like a bear or lion,
tower'd citadel, a pendent rock,
A forked mountain, or blue promontory
With trees upon't, that nod unto the world,
And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen
these signs;
They are black vesper's pageants.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

Axe- The human condition

BLUE: That guy messed up the sparrow family - cutting down that tree.
RED:You know humans - as long as they have an axe, they have to cut something.

Friday, April 15, 2016

Herald Traveller Transcript Evening

The Boston Evening Transcript
by T.S. Elliot

The readers of the Boston Evening Transcript
Sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn.

When evening quickens faintly in the street,
Wakening the appetites of life in some
And to others bringing the Boston Evening Transcript,
I mount the steps and ring the bell, turning
Wearily as one would turn to nod goodbye to Rouchefoucauld,
If the street were time and he at the end o the street,
And I say,"Cousin Harriet, here is the Boston Evening Transcript."


Here's something i dug..Why? My kick is to read the newspaper. Briefly, I am master of the universe. Sometimes I see the patterns that forecast the future. Can you imagine me there doing that/ Here Elliot tells it but couched in a Sgt. Pepper-like sepia recollection. I think the readers of Evening papers were middle class, an upper. While morning papers were for working people.

But to 'sway in the wind like a field of ripe corn'' that could be people reading papers on the trolley on way home from work.  that takes me back too. When I went to journalism school they told us to watch the people as they read the paper on the subway. and i did. And there was the game within the game.

My blog is called Moon Traveller Herald, which is a riff on the Boston Herald Traveller (aka Boston Herald Traveller Record  American) - and here w e have the Evening Transcript.