SKYPILOTCLUB.COM






         A BABBS BOOK DEAL
                 
                                                                                                                     BONUS DEAL:  BUY THE BUFFALO BOOK AND
           GET MY BROTHER'S BOOK, PRANKSTER MEMOIRS,
                                           FOR FREE



 

I can receive credit card payments through paypal. Go to:

Paypal   

and click on the shop now banner at the top of the page.

Or send check, cash or money order to Buffalo Book 81774 Lost Creek Road, Dexter OR 97431

Free shiping in the U.S. All books signed. Say if you want a special inscription.
Thanks, Ken


           Another Book deal for  eager readers:

A chapbook, We Were Arrested,  is a chapter from the book I'm working on called,
CRONIES, about the adventures with Ken Kesey, Neal Cassady and the Merry Pranksters.
$12, all books signed, free shipping in the U.S.

Ken, My sister spent a few weeks in Eugene, and she got me a copy of 'We Were Arrested'
at Tsunami books. This is terrific ! The narrative is so smooth, very reader friendly. I think
you are on to something here Ken. I'm thinking this book is going to do very well.
Take Care

Steve Schmale
Skypilot #104 




We Were Arrested, is available online.
 To pay with credit card. Go to"

https://www.facebook.com/Cronies-Chapbook-285688115415371/

and click on SHOP NOW.

Or, order by mail, send $12 to Ken Babbs 81774 Lost Creek Road, Dexter OR 97431
All books signed
      



FOR EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED BEFORE THIS, CLICK ON

                     OLDPAGES 66


                                                                                                            
IF YOU WANT TO YAK WITH THE KAPN, CLICK ON:

       YAK


                                                                                                         WEDNESDAY, APRIL 22, 2020
                                                                                  EARTH DAY
                                                five minutes vidie done by yrs. truly with words and trombone

                                                                         https://youtu.be/XTXJXHajE5s


                                                                                FRIDAY, MAY 29, 2020 


 

An interview:

 

When was your first desire to become involved with the psychedelic area & who were your first idols?

 

There I was taking a nap with my mouth open, snoring like a logger sawing wood and some prankster dropped a tablet in my mouth and I woke up choking and coughing and the lights went crazy color and hovering over me were angels laughing like maniacs and they became my idols although no one can accuse me of idolatry.

 

Which is the most interesting period in your life and why?

 

Most, as opposed to least, is a hip expression you hear, like, the food at that restaurant is the most, and they aren't talking about quantity, they are talking about quality, for you can guess who was the cook, that's right, the intrepid traveler hisself who skated on the greasy skillets and walloped the pots and why was that so interesting? Because it was the intersection of appetite and cleanliness and led to what came next.

 

From whom have you have learned the most secrets about the life?

 

From whom, indeed, and once again the word most doesn't necessarily mean the greatest number but could mean the wildest most outrageous secrets there are, and to get to the bottom of that one I would have to mine the depths and plumb the quests and come up with the Marine Corps Captain in Okinawa who coached the basketball team and taught me there is an invisible string connecting me to the man guarding me and with that string I can move that man anywhere I want, although I scissored him out of the play when I went to the toilet.

 

What experiences in your life make you a GOOD people, how do you want to be remembered?

 

Oh so many experiences, so little time to recount them all, such tired fingers from typing, but there is a good memory, of typing on a manual typewriter, to race to the end of a line, the ringing of the bell, the reaching up and slamming the carriage back to begin the next line without a pause, the letters whacking the paper faster than the mind can formulate the thought, ah those were the days my friend and they aren't over yet, just with a different typing contraption, but did all that make me a GOOD people? Certainly helped give me the chops to blast out the words, but what it really amounts to is when you get up from the typing and deal with the material world, how do you treat other people? With kindness, that's how, and it would be good to be remembered as being kind to others, forgive me my transgressions, those times I was flawed.

 

Which memory from Merry Pranksters makes you smile?

 

The time we were going to burn our Prankster shirts to commemorate the end of the making of the bus movie and realized we were starting a fire in the bus over the gas tank and we all bailed out of the bus and stood waiting for the explosion but nothing happened and when we peeked inside the bus we saw the fire had fizzled out.

 

Are there any memories with Ken Kesey, which you’d like to share with us?

 

Kesey used to talk about the goatheads of home; you know, those little sharp things grow on weeds down in Arizona? They are mean mo-fos and can really tear up your bare feet. When we were on the bus Further in '64 and would go through one of the Prankster's home town and the Prankster would go weird on us Kesey would say, "He's going through the goatheads of home." In Hawaii they are called Crown of Judas.

 

What are some of the most memorable tales with Pranksters?

 

In san francisco they have a st. stupid's parade every year. Someone
emailed me once to tell me I had been inducted into the stupidity
club for all the great work I've done, and it was a compliment thing.


How do you describe the philosophy of Pranksters.

 

 

Pranksters definitely are a collective but it is a collective of the spirit and that American spirit has been passed on from the founding fathers through the literature of Melville, the transcendentalism of Emerson, the elusiveness of Whitman, the eyeopening of Faulkner, zoom into the Beat authors and here it takes a wild turn of spontaneity in tribal dance, uninhibited jazz, nonsensical word raps and other unfettered reaching of the spirit toward new found freedoms.

 

What is the “think” you miss most from the  Pranksters “family”?

 

The "think" is to be mindful of those who are here and those who have passed on and to think, isn't it wonderful we are still all good friends and miss those great gatherings when we would tootle on our instruments and warble with our voices and slop great gobs of paint on inanimate objects and dip and whirl in happy dance and film the whole thing and then watch it to see if what we're doing is anything worthwhile, afterwards sleep it off and get back to work.

 

Do you remember anything funny or interesting from the nationwide trip on the Furthur?

 

One of the funniest and most interesting things was Roy Sebern painting the word, FURTHER, on the destination sign on the top front of the bus, saying, ‘This is a good luck word, to keep the bus moving toward its destination,’ then later on, during one of the recurring repainting of the bus, someone spelled the sign, FURTHUR, and it stayed like that for a while before it was repainted back to FURTHER again, then much later, a couple of the Grateful Dead musicians formed a new band called FURTHUR.

 

Why did you think that Pranksters, continued to generate such a devoted following?

 

Didn’t think anything of the kind at the time, now I think the biggest reason so many people know about the Pranksters is from reading Tom Wolfe’s Electric Kool Aid Acid Test.

 

Which of historical personalities would you like to meet?

 

You mean now or in the hereafter? Whatever, there’s only a few million to choose from, so let’s start with Adam and work our way through the Bible, Abraham, Joseph and Rachel and Isaac and Moses and Jonah and Noah and Jesus onward through Marco Polo and Saint Francis and Homer, going completely out of chronological order from now on, Picasso and Louis Armstrong and Don Quixote and Casey Stengel and Walden Pond and Pappy Boyington and Sunny Boy Williamson and that’s enough.

 

 


 
                                                                                FRIDAY, MAY 15, 2020
                                                   

                                                          

It Was Come To Jesus Time
By Ken Babbs
    
    It wasn't really an acid test. It was a Halloween party at The Spread where I lived in Soquel, California, east of Santa Cruz. Our instruments and amps and microphones filled the living room. I played the electric bass, Kesey the electric guitar, George Walker on drums, Gretchen Fetchen on electric piano, Mike Hagen on guitar.
    We did a sound check and then went outside to commune with the moon. We were in costume: Mountain Girl played Little Bo Peep; Lee Quarnstrum, Clark Kent, ace reporter; George Walker, Flash Gordon, moving so fast you couldn't see him; Mike Hagen, Eastern Oregon wheat rancher; Gretch, Wonder Woman. I was the Spirit; Kesey the Wizard of Oz.
    We stood in a circle, held hands and hummed. A cloud covered the moon and everything went dark. Out of the house rose the sounds of a mangled celestial orchestra and off key chorus:
    Judge decreed it, clerk he wrote it down
    Give you this jail sentence you'll be Nashville bound
    We went inside. Garcia, Weir, Lesh, Pigpen, and Kreutzmann, played our instruments and belted out the song:
    Some got six month some got one solid.
    But me and my buddies all got lifetime here
    We sidled in, singing and rapping. They eased out and we took over, the only song we knew:
    Have you ever heard the story of Peggy the Pistol
    She didn't shoot a gun but she shot a lot of crystal.
    After that we took turns with the band until early in the morning when the music wound down. We sprawled on the floor, held microphones, rapped long nonsensical poetic free jazz word play that morphed into deep religiosos, talking about meeting on the other side; if we believed in it or not.
    Cassady, the Catholic, said, "Doggone dogma, Dog Man."
    Kesey, the Baptist, said, "Want to fervently believe."
    Robert Stone, the iconoclast, said, "Are you shitting me?"
    Babbs, the delayer, said, "Won't know till we get there."
    George Walker, not committing himself, said, "How about it, Allen, what's the Buddhist take?"
    Allen didn't hesitate.
    "There was a chicken on the side of the road who saw another chicken on the other side. 'How do I get to the other side?' he yelled. The other chicken yelled back, ‘You are on the other side.’"
    Allen  smiled benignly. Dawn crested the eastern ridge and everyone packed up and went home, leaving behind a mess, a three day job, sweeping, mopping, scouring, bringing in the furniture, restoring the home.

 

 

 


                                                                          SUNDAY, APRIL 12, 2020
                                                                              EASTER SUNDAY


                                                                                               

                                                                                   Old Glory, our symbol of one nation, indivisible, with freedom and liberty for
                                                                                    all, is a bit tattered and torn these days, but have faith, the flag will fly whole
                                                                                    again, as we restore a government of the people, for the people and by
                                                                                    the people. Peace on.


                                                                                   
                                                                                                         SATURDAY, APRIL 4, 2020
                                                          


                                                                    WEDNESDAY, MARCH 25, 2020


                                                                                       Someone asked me what I was doing about Coronovirus and I replied,
                                                                              "Baking bread."

                                                     

                                                                    And then someone else asked me the same thing and I told him, "Doing
                                                                            my taxes," and he said, "They've extended it until July 15th," and I said,
                                                                            "Rate I'm going, it will take that long."


                                                     

                                                                            Still have to do the work around the place. Big dead pine tree had its
                                                                                     top half blown down in a windstorm, finally getting around to cutting
                                                                                     it up, Bro-in-law Meade helping. The log awaits.

         



                                                                                      My big book, Cronies, 582 manuscript pages, a literary burlesque (defined as an
                                                                                       historical occurance embellished with inventions and exagerations) is still in
                                                                                       New York City with my agent who is diligently seaching for a publisher. Been
                                                                                       a long time, hope 2020 is the year.
                                                                                               

                                               
                                                                                                   FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 2020 
                                            Happy Valentine's day to Robert R.I.P. Hunter. Photo triptrych by
                                                                                        James Mena, used with permission of the photographer.

                                                    
         


                                                        FEBRUARY 2, 2020                       
              

                                                                                         In the big snowstorm last February we had two giant oak trees take a beating. This
                                                                                        one had limbs fall over the top of the van I use for a summer time office, none of the
                                                                                        limbs hitting the van, but crouching over it like a spider.
                                                                                   
                                                                                                   

                                            

                                                                                    I was cutting on this big branch and it started to slide, so I gave it a push and
                                                                                    it slid to the ground and turned on its side, leaving it easy to cut into firewood,
                                                                                    then load the pieces in the trailer, drive to the woodshed and stack.

                                              



                                                                                                   
                                                                    SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 2 2019

                                                                         NOW ON YOUTUBE, THE READING AT BEND, OREGON

                                                    

                                                                        Here is the url for the youtube of my reading in Bend, Oregon, Wednesday, October 30. 55 minutes
                                                                        but the reading is 30 and the Q&A the other 25

                                                                                                              https://youtu.be/mLm_0fdweD8



                                                                        SATURDAY, OCTOBER 26, 2019
Coming up this coming Wednesday, October 30, in Bend, Oregon
Admission free but must go online for a ticket. Doors at 6:30 pm
Reading at 7 pm. Q and A to follow reading. I will be selling ($10 each)
and signing books: Who Shot The Water Bufflo and We Were
Arrested. Reading will be streamed live on Facebook

      


               
                                                          Here is the youtube of the reading I did at Ken Sanders Rare Book Store in
                                                          Salt Lake City on September 28, 2019: "What Happened To That Movie?"
                                
                                                                                               https://youtu.be/QHJpLAH7tUc

                                                                           SATURDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2019


                                                                                                      
                                                                                                           
 Had a great reading at Ken Sander’s bookstore in Salt Lake City. The staff was tremendous, a
good turnout and they dug the show. In one part of piece I was reading I told about the time
Kesey had his house broken into and his dad's cuff links stolen. Another guy told Kesey where the
thief lived so Kesey and I went to his place, a real tweaker mess, broken down trailer, junk in the
yards. Kesey tried the door, went in, came out with the cuff links. A rasty old woman from across
the street came over yelling, "What are you doing, you can't just go barging in there, who are you anyway?
"Mormons," Kesey said, brushing past her. "Do you want to buy a Watchtower?"
The audience cracked up, biggest laugh I've ever gotten. Only in Salt Lake City.

                                  




you are flier number

Free website hit counter