rest in peace, jay; halloween at cal; "fair is foul, & foul is fair: hover through the fog & filthy air"

->this past wkend i saw again that contradiction, confusion, even calamity can make the life-path more clear. usually i heed & cultivate & covet my joys; however, then, having nearly fetishized the "happy" & transcendent experience, when misery hits, i magnify & pathologize it: I JUST WANT TO BE HAPPY!! WHY CAN'T I BE HAPPY??? (continue w/self-pity script). but really, of course of course, as all a-dults know, misery's a part of life, a prompt to action, a message, a whisper or kick from the universe to get cracking. to quote zombieland, "time to nut up or shut up!" which i take to mean, get moving, stop whining, no half measures. for out of action, spurred by misery, revelation, growth, improved closeness to other humans can bloom... what a change of mind & life i got to have by leaving this "filthy air" for a wkend!
-> 1st, this: jay & cece were friends from the motorcycle trips i used to go on. they were the most perfectly matched duo: hard-core sf-born stone-cold bikers, recovered & into service, short, stocky, long-haired, cheerful in the grateful way of sober people who've been rescued from a common peril & realize it. they were such great examples of happy sobriety, sponsoring tons of people. on summer trips, jay & johnny (& woody if he was in the rm, too) would make the hotel walls & ground shake w/their snoring in a cacaphonous thunder that was sort of funny cause it made all us non-snorers in the rm feel like we were snow white w/the 7 dwarves, mebbe.
-> brian & i went to visit jay & cece one time at their place up in gold country & cece & i did wii sports, which was huge fun i'd never done, then we all went to this italian trattoria housed in a big wooden building & to a speaker mtg. when they'd stop thru bako en route home from parker, az, where they'd set up their enormous rolling 2nd home for the spring & summer, cece & i would sing everly bros @ the piano. cece is a great harmonizer, her dad having traveled the country in a barbershop quartet back in the '50s. she also told incredible stories about being the little queen of the portuguese church she attended, of her aunts crawling on their knees to approach her, all gussied up like a tiny bride, at the altar.
-> i write this bc sunday while i was in berkeley, all those friends whom i don't & maybe won't seen anymore held a wake for jay, who passed on last month. b wrote me that jay woke up w/a sore back, went to the rx, & was told he had systemic cancer. it took him faster than it did uncle henry (june 18). wise, friendly jay is much missed by all, & i hope the many sponsees whom he helped show the way will continue to carry the msg of recovery. if you know cece, or just want to post something for her, i'll pass along condolences. she is a great little lady, such a champ.
-> berkeley was swell. left the valley smog for the east bay, staying again at the piedmont house hostel, & walked telegraph, shattuck, university, ate crepes, loved zombieland & the most delicious caramel popcorn @ the shattuck moviehouse more than i thought i ever would (never seen such a combination of X-rated gore [closed my eyes a lot] & warm-heartedness), went to bookstores, novelty stores, enjoyed the breezes, dined at angeline's cajun cafe to the wonderful sounds of nola tunes, felt aged & tired but then ultimately not unhappy amongst the droves of laughing, squealing, bellowing berkeley kids in their halloween fineries, got in my costume (pic from last yr & this below)) & drove to alameda to tammy & byron's & visited while they passed out candy (old-school punk & rockabilly slapped away in the background & tammy & sarah & byron cracked foul-mouthed jokes - declaring us all "wenches" & "scurvy mates" - in that cool mix of irreverence & love for life that the livelys have). cruised alameda's main drag, then navigated thru oakland & back up to berkeley in the inky night. sunday brought a late, good breakfast & a cheaper & better possible crash pad for next time, followed by an hr at the hot tubs on university. for $17/person ($7 w/coupon), you can steam & soak for a whole hour!!! an affordable spot to soak away worries, relax, take a break: terrific! it was like a one-hr vacation!
-> however, this kind of experience isn't too wise when one next has a 5-hr drive home... eep.... but made it back. belated halloween, all saints, dia de los muertos to all. may your spirit be stirred, soon & often, by the joys & miseries of being, & from them may you have revelation! :)

balancing the grim below

halloween's coming... all st's day... dia de los muertos... so to balance the grim post of yesterday, here are halloween links for today:
bride of frankenstein on youtube - there, you can watch the entire movie in serial form as well as clips from young frankenstein & my own DIY BOF song/video, which appears as "bride of frankenstein (j.a.)." ... in bako, there's bound to be much to do this wkend, tho i'll be in bay area at the study-hostel & i hope at russell quann's teenage dance craze party, or watching soul goblins of transylvania in the mission (both shows are near-free to free)(tho might be too hard to get into the city, even on bart, w/the bay bridge being closed)... can't wait to go back to SF/berkeley, since haven't been but once since my grad from NCOC.
finally, a pic of horror's royal couple (in my opinion). this eccentric british duo were, of course, the hunchback/dr moreau/director of touch of evil as well as the bride/mary shelley...

the happy easter wk in pared-down prose

->I-5. buds: blue, gold, white, violaceous. paleta, rompope with raisin. santa cruz: pure sky, boardwalk, rides, shrieks, thrills, sweet fried smells, mechanical laughing sal. bathhouse soak, meeting, maralise, woody, tostada, sleep. san francisco: rainy sutro baths, cliff house, bratwurst & sweet mustard at tommy’s joint, bargain hotel on lombard, coit tower, exhaustion, tv, nap, tv, walk the castro, pecan & ginger cookies, sleep. run in cow hollow/marina, best breakfast on lombard at home plate w/scones, homemade jam, fresh eggs; mission, valencia, haight st, ok crepe, outer richmond, twin peaks, nap, hiking yoga!
->deserving its own graph: met very tall & super-fit owner eric kipp at ferry bldg & we took off, hoofing it from the embarcadero to coit tower via steep, verdant staircases w/yoga stops in between; the only student for this particular class, i felt like i had a personal trainer for 75 mins! it was exhilarating, oxygenating, thrilling, allowing a person to see unusual, beautiful pts of the city, amazing vistas, to hike like mad, to learn better hiking & yoga form. highly recommended: www.hikingyoga.com
->brian wasn’t yet ready to pick me up, so hiked wearily, legs trembling, back UP to north beach, wandered to stay warm, got a slice of the most delicious hawaiian pizza, stood at a corner near café trieste bleary w/fatigue, just gazing at the city & munching pizza, lovely; crashed & slept like a happy corpse.
-> rain, rain, great breakfast at joe’s java house at pier 30 (swing music; swell, nostalgic open setting; free parking; million$ vw of bay; cheap grub), frustrated in berkeley trying to find amtrak, hostel; b goes home to bako. am a bit sad, but he wants to get back to the barn, as b does, & we have had a very happy trip already.
-> walking, walking, walking university ave, i admire a thrift shop proprietor’s purple eye makeup & she replies, “ooh, you, too, honey. You got that SWOOP goin’ on!” walk to shattuck, then telegraph, find amoeba where will listen to music, walk past people’s pk where someone strolls by loudly selling acid, nearly cliché in that setting. get $1 milk tea, pink gloves against the cold; at hostel, make bed using all the sheets & comforters (private rm), crash. soon enough, time to walk to amoeba for the music show...
-> dex romweber duo at amoeba: amazing!!! am so happy to be there!!! dex looks little like his professional photos, short/stocky & all head, a born performer that way, w/suffering trout maw & thick swoop of graying hair, compelling, mournful, dignified, wild, shredding away at an acoustic guitar like a love-mad elmer gantry, a house on fire, these beautiful intense songs about romance gone wrong & longing & death. he is “roy orbison mixed with jello biafra,” switching from rich, passionate baritone to rockabilly animal snarl in the same breath, his sister sara playing a cajon drum box, & w/just that & his romantic vox & wild guitar, they swell up that room: you can feel it on the back of your neck, like love or murder or ocean or soaring.
-> immediately after, sara jumps up from the cajon & looks right at me: “you wanna see it?” she asks, meaning the drum box. “YES!!!” i enthuse, & jump on the stage. this cajon is made in sta barbara & basically is an amplified wooden box containing metal strings so that when you hit the face, the strings vibrate, creating a snare sound. a center o-hole, when struck (w/hand or reversed foot pedal) activates the kick. sara is so cute (looks exactly like her photos, a skinny tomboy rockstar chick) & way nicer & more down-to-earth than she needs to be. i turn & dex is waiting there, & when i look into his sea-hued eyes, he is far away; they are the wild distant eyes of the passionate music-mad man, steeped in it; he partially is not there anymore because the show is over. his speaking voice is so-lovely southern gentlemanly; they are both kind & sign my cd & i’m high as a kite for quite a while, riding the music roller coaster.
-> dinner at angeline’s new orleans café: salad w/walnuts, cup of gumbo, chicory coffee. huge nighttime fun walking the berkeley streets & visiting ½ price books, so romantic, so alive… the hostel, on frat row, is noisy all night long w/young partiers.
-> get all clean & showered up, pack up, lovely breakfast at crepes-a-go-go, walk walk walk to kill time, bart to richmond because was told that would be all-train, no bus, get on amtrak, THEY WON’T TAKE MY TEXAS VOUCHER!!! pay for ticket ($45), settle in for long long long ride home.
-> pouring rain in bako! friendly smiling b, cody, doggies pick me up; ice milk at dewar’s; get in pajamas & crash while they watch bolt. man, what a great trip it was, & i’m so glad to be home, warm & safe.
-> next a.m. is a blur. somehow i dress for the show, make set lists. mark & phil arrive & do those guys look handsome! smiling, joking, dressed up, great to see them. we caravan to kern river belle/inn, right over the oildale bridge, unloading 400000 lbs of gear, rick arrives w/his gal patty. the dark, tiny place has food & friendly waitress/cook; the crowd is all-biker. we start to play & a tall man comes up w/a ladder to switch on the stage lights. “i paid for em, we’re gonna use em,” he laughs. it’s bob, owner of the joint these past 6 mos. bob sets the tone; it’s a wonderful gig! the burly bikers come & go all afternoon & many stay, drinking, cheering, laughing: the vibe is so positive & happy & upbeat! b & c drop in for one set, along w/olen; it’s great to see them all! one fellow in leathers, tim, stays all day. he is very much a gentleman in expressing his enthusiasms for the band & i; what a nice thing! 3 chord whore darcy’s mom penny shows up; she loves prof longhair! i love penny! we talk a little music. tammy & byron show up, visiting from the bay area!! tammy requests some tunes… they are the cutest hippie-punk couple i know, great folks! bob & jackie want to hire us back for a full wkend. we make a bunch of friends, the kind you’d definitely want to watch your back if things got hairy. patty & others say we're “f***king awesome.”
-> in no way could some fancy hollywood show’ve been as cool unless the people were that warm & friendly & enthusiastic. the audience made all the difference. wow!
-> consider supporting the kern river inn (address below on flyer) & venues like it, the ones that support live local bands & actually pay them… am so sick of these places that only support tv sets blaring sports & karaoke djs & nothing for the bands. i mean, how does a dj’s effort & ability compare to a musician’s? it just flat does not. paying a dj more than a live musician, who practices, works, toils, labors, struggles to create & produce & manifest soul for others’ enjoyment & even transcendence – well, it’s immoral!!!!! yes, clubs/bars are businesses, which only recalls for me the slogan painted at the people’s park: “down with corporate capitalism.”
-> we loaded out, caravanned to various houses to drop off gear, dined at dave's bbq ... too worn out to eat, i just enjoyed the cajun/rockin' blues soundtrack that makes me love going to that place. home, we watched ram mass: fierce grace & then i collapsed into sleep. happy easter, felice pascua to anyone still reading.