KESEY AFFAIR IN NYC
Another large occasion takes place for you East Coast denizens, particularly the populance of the Big Apple. Monday night February 11 at the 92nd St Y, Tom Wolfe, Robert Stone, David Stanford and Ed McClanahan will regale the hush mouff crowd with stories and readings of and about Ken Kesey.
Ed McClanahan, author and old time Kesey pal.
Cap'n Clammerham, the Prankster Minister of
Disinformation, will be filing a report as well as will be Boggle
Your Mind Faggen, the noted scholarly epistleite.
Third Report from Cap'n Clammerham, Prankster Minister of Disinformation:
--friar babbs--trip to new york was a beeg success--the occasion at the Y was terrific: 900 people, Bravo filming it all, etc. etc.--i wasn't able to take notes, of course, being on stage the whole time, but they'regonna send me an audiotape in the next few days--after i listen to it, i'll file my report--tom wolfe says i can transcribe whatever i want from his part of the program for spit 7 (that was my idea; i figured he'd be a lot more likely to go for that than for writing something especially for us)--he was very nice, by the way--kept emphasizing the religious angle, though, which both bob and i were inclined to downplay--david tells me that sterling is writing his autobiography--i was hoping to try to wangle a piece of that for Spit, but he escaped before i got a chance to see him--
--more to come--xoxo,
Bob Stone, author and old time Kesey pal.
First Report is in: (From Sterling Lord, Kesey's agent)
Last night was Kesey night at the 92nd Street
Y. David Stanford, Ed McClanahan, Robert Stone and Tom Wolfe
spoke in that order.
All were very, very good. And all were different, one from the
other.
David was pithy and wide-ranging. Ed read from CUCKOO'S NEST
and from the Kesey chapter in his own book about meeting famous
people. Bob Stone was thoughtful and reflective. Tom Wolfe was
about the period his book was about, and very complimentary.
Almost a full house.
Tom Wolfe, author and Kesey chronicler.
Second report: (From Eric Weintrub, NYC film maker)
"They say, 'Just say no.' I say, 'Just say thanks.'" --Ken Kesey
Last night I attended "Ken Kesey, 1935-2001: A Tribute" at the 92nd street Y in Manhattan. I imagine this Tribute was way more literary in an "uptown" sense of the word than the Eugene or San Fran celebrations.
Speakers included David Stanford, Kesey,s book editor; Ed McClanahan, an old friend of Kesey,s and a writer himself; Robert Stone, writer-in-residence at Yale University; and Tom Wolfe, author of "The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test."
David Stanford, Kesey,s book editor, set the wheels in motion by giving a wonderfully comprehensive chronology of Kesey,s life, from the first stroke of paint on the 1939 International Harvester in 1964 to the dipping of Kesey,s casket in a milk vat at brother Chuck,s Springfield Creamery in 2001.
Ed McClanahan read from Cuckoo,s Nest and told stories about the Smithsonian Prank when the Pranksters tried to pass Grandfurther off as the original bus. The Smithsonian turned down the offer and, in doing so, missed the point entirely. Kesey,s quote was something to the effect of, "The bus is a spirit. Not a bucket of nuts and blots. The Smithsonian talked their way out of this one. Sending the bus to the Smithsonian would be like locking your balls in a golden chest and sending them off to the Queen of England. It would be a nice gesture, but it would be a mistake."
Like a killer whale arching out of the water in all it,s glory, glistening in the sun and disappearing into the murky ocean even before the sightseers on the shore can open their mouths to cheer...leaving the whale watchers staring into the deep blue water and wondering when the whale would emerge again. This was Kesey in his "pimpernel phase" as Robert Stone referred to it. In 1967, Kesey chose Mexico over the five-year mandatory minimum he was facing for marijuana. He was later snuck back into the States and, as a fugitive, repeatedly popped up "like the scarlet pimpernel" in newspaper interviews and television reports to "rub salt in the wounds of J. Edgar Hoover."
Tom Wolfe spoke mostly from a journalistic standpoint revamping for us many legendary stories that he wrote about in "The Electic Kool-Aid Acid Test."
Tom Wolfe said he was convinced that what Kesey spawned in the 60's was about "religion." To Robert Stone it was about "cosmic ambition." To Ed McClanahan it was about "fun fun and more fun." Kesey said it best himself: "a warrior doesn't have any dogma. He just tries to be fair."
Ken Kesey, 35 years after being released from prison, has now, in passing away, re-entered his "pimpernel phase." He will emerge repeatedly in those who have adopted his battles and his revolution as their own. Kesey from here to eternity will continue to rub salt in the wounds of J. Edgar Hoover.
INTREPID TRIPS SPOTLIGHTS
THE
THE SPOTLIGHT THEATER
THE
THE SPOTLIGHT THEATER
By Ken Babbs Last but not least on the Monday calendar is the opening night at the Spotlight Theater in Pleasant Hill, Oregon, of the musical play done strictly in accordance with their own peculiar whims: Snow White.
When Ken Kesey died, his family asked that any donations in his name be made to the Spotlight Theater, a community theater in Pleasant Hill, Oregon, where the Keseys live. Kesey's granddaughter, Kate, is part of the troupe. I went to the theater one day to see how they were doing.
The building is back off a side road you could never find were it not for the hand painted wooden signs hanging on the fences, brightly colored arrows directing you to the theater.
Once a large garage or construction shed, from the outside it hasn't changed much except for the large numbers of theater sets piled up against the walls. Step inside and it is a a different story.
A large lobby holds the coffee bar, the large bulletin board/calendar on the wall, chairs, and a closet for the costumes.
Mary Huls, the miz everything of the theater, from rousting out the actors, the dancers, the set painters; a ball of ever loving energy giving her all to the theater, to the kids, to the audience, is talking on the phone. "Where's that smoke machine?"
I caught her working on the newest production: Snow White.
Julie who helps with the sewing and the costuming was busy in one corner, working the machine, stitching in time.
Go through the doors into the theater and you step into a fantasy land, bustling with youngsters working and rehearsing. Michael Jackson's Thriller blasts from the sound system.
Arms out, arms to the side, bodies dip, legs go askew, legs jut crossways, heads cock one side shoulder drops and bodies fall to the floor and flail like robotic serpents up onto tippy toes reach for the skyyyyyyy.
Painting the trees, reminiscent of a few forests scene but not herd of elephants eating these brambles.
If you would like to make a donation
to the Spotlight Theater
in Ken Kesey's name,
here's the address:
Spotlight Theater
PO Box 802
Pleasant Hill, Or. 97455
It was one of those bizarre moments in time where you walk into the right place at the right time or maybe the wrong place at the wrong time. I tend to believe the first of the two.
Over a couple beers at Sanchos Broken Arrow
on Clarkson St. and Colfax Ave. in Denver, CO.....we were discussing
the Phil/Bob/ and the Crusader show on New Year's in California.
We were reminiscing of our memories and sharing each others experiences
and discussing a bit of the reality of November 10th. Also, there
was a part of that New Year's show that seemed a little good
to
be true....
The line to quench our thirst seemed to be
hosted by none other than the Merry Pranksters??? It was such
a thrill to be in the environment. As our discussion progressed
I noticed an unfamiliar face in our local family setting bar.
It was none other than a lonesome traveler??? But could it be?
None of us had ever had an actual encounter with the man with
a sledge hammer??? Was this a trick??? We have always heard 'never
trust a prankster' But this was too real. The slender man with
very distinct facial features and the vein that 'pops' on one
side of the forehead? The gentleman was deep in thought wearing
a red
and white thin stripped shirt gazing at the artwork from floor
to ceiling. Keeping somewhat to himself, he drank his whiskey
and smoked cig after cig. He was alone, or was he? He seemed
somewhat content but a traveler, just passing by. He had a small
weathered duffle bag type thing with his essentials, I assume.
He hypnotized me and three of my friends. It was such a unique
siting. Maybe it was something, or maybe it was nothing... I
tend to look further at the first statement....something!
I believe that things/events/memories good or bad happen for a reason. I thought everyone up northwest of Denver might like a good story from the old stomping grounds of an individual who has enchanted you in some way.
May the enchantments continue!
Peace to you all!
Melissa:-)