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on facebook as Ken Babbs
on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/therealkapnken

audio files on: Soundcloud




Old friend, Greg Webb, from New York state, atended the Santana concert at Bethel NY, site of Woodstock,
the other night. Here's his report:

I arrived in the Bethel lots around 7:30... just in perfect time to get through the gates and near my seat. I'd bought a seat in the
Handicapped zone, a band of seats sort of in a balcony towards the back of the indoor seating ... I'd been feeling sort of guilty
about that... but when I got there it was no problem; there were numerous empty seats in that section so I wasn't shoving anyone
out. Cool! A beautiful view of the stage... the moon was out clear as a bell, one night short of Full, and the place was packed.
A mix of ages... but mostly what I would call the Graying Hip... people in their 50's and 60's.. all fairly energetic.

A great, great show. Carlos is about, what, 71, and he is just plain SHARP. Where many older acts depend on back-up players
and singers (like the Stones nowadays), Carlos is out there Front & Center, and man, he LEANS on it. Very tight, complex rhythms,
two drummers (one, his wife, Cindy, a 5'2" powerhouse), a conga player, bass, keys (Dave Matthews guest appearance), and a
rhythm guitarist... and they WORKED HARD. Heavy Latin sounds of many kinds mixed in... Afro-Cuban, Salsa, Meringue..
tightly woven and loud. Just spectacular. I was.. lightly tuned...had some old quality paper I'd been saving for the right moment...
and so, I was THERE, baby! 1969, August! Santana felt that vibe too...and verbalized it, ("this is a sacred moment!").. all too
obvious for everyone that we all were experiencing a slice of the Original, come back to the Scene of the Crime to continue the
jam. Dense, dense rhythms ... multi-level stuff.. he's a real Pro, and plays from the heart. He stopped a couple of times to preach
a little hippie Love and Compassion, but stayed away from Politics (thank you), except a light jab at "the idiot running things
right now". But his message was "higher power... magnificence, excellence and grace..".. that sort of thing.
And he PRODUCED it!

They played about twenty songs, including hits like, Jingo, Oye Como Va, Black magic Woman, Smooth, and a few covers such
as Stevie Wonder's Higher Ground and Coltrane's, A Love Supreme. Toward the end of the show we got a blistering Soul Sacrifice,
and man! If you hadn't been sure that you were back on that hallowed ground BEFORE... you sure knew it by then! I've been to
Bethel Woods numerous times, (as well as reunions on the original site, 200 yards away, and the annual Yasgur's Farm mud-fests)...
but THAT was as probably as close as I'll ever come to the original Woodstock vibe. AUTHENTIC.

Sloooow traffic leaving the place...standard for Bethel Woods, the only real drawback to the venue, and I guess that's a leftover
from the original event. At the intersection at 17B, stopped for traffic and a flat-brimmed NY State Trooper comes walking at
me, starts yelling at me. Wha??

"Are you with those OTHER GUYS?" he hollerd.
Huh? I've got healf a headful... not in a mood to deal with TROOPERS...
"YEah those other motorcycles! You in that group?"
"Ahhh.. Nossir! No groups for me!"
He smiled.. "Oh! So you're an INDIVIDUAL biker!"
"Yes! that's me, Sir! Individual! No truckin with those OTHER types!" as the strobe lights flashed all over me. I got the hell out of there.


The pump went out, temperature 104 degrees, had a sprinkler on the roof to help cool the house. Called
Rainbow Pump, who put the original submersible pump in. 1972. Come to think of it, that pump blew
out, too. 1988. John and Matt came in the big truck to replace the blown pump. Ended up replacing the
pump and the motor and the pipe, everything new, no more steel pipe in the well, PVC plastic. The steel
rusts and will break. Not the plastic. Hard to believe. Good for fifty years, so they said. I don't have to
worry about that.


                           Truck arrives, raise the boom.                                                                   Matt and John open the tool box.


                       Old pump and motor come out.                     New pump and motor, wrong one, have to go get the right one.        John hooks new pipe to the new motor and pump.


Everything together, lower into the well.                                 Final attachment. From well into the pipe into the pumphouse to the tank.



Old pal, both in years known, and ages, too, Marine Corps helicopter pilot in the same squadron as
me, got a great writeup in the Greeley, Colorado newspaper:


                                               GREELEY TRIBUNE JULY18 2017

For more information on the progress of this project, go to http://www.shuflyflightassn.org

The bodies of two old helicopters lay uncovered on Bob Fritzler's property. They tower over him as he
]walks by them on his way to his large garage.

He had to use a giant trailer to haul them out to his farm with his truck. He imagined it felt a lot like
driving a semi. He doesn't worry much about what the weather might do to the old birds outside.
He's just using them for parts.

Fritzler's real treasure sits in that large garage on his land near Keenesburg. He's working to restore a
U.S. Marine Corps Sikorsky H-34 helicopter, which was flown during Operation SHUFLY during the
Vietnam War. Fritzler said it was one of the first helicopters built to drop off troops in combat.

Back then, Fritzler said, helicopters were a huge game changer for Marines. Pilots could drop soldiers
off anywhere. Before they relied on ships, which required a coast.

Fritzler, now 82, served in the U.S. Marine Corps for 11 years. He flew the helicopter when he was a
pilot. Several other squadrons flew it too. He hopes to fix it up and eventually put it into the Smithsonian
Museum in Washington D.C.

Fritzler went to a Marine reunion a couple years back. There, he met a man from Oklahoma, Gerald Hail,
who restored old planes back to flyable conditions. Hail invited him out to fly and Fritzler accepted.
While out there, Fritzler noticed the H-34.

"I saw bullet hole patches," Fritzler said. "I knew I could count over 100 bullet holes."

The bird had aged, much of the Marine Green paint had worn down to the aluminum. Fritzler's old
squadron number had been painted over with a different squadron's number, but he still recognized
the helicopter as the one he flew.

"I had a real love affair with it," Fritzler said.

He asked Hail if he could buy it off him so he could restore it. Hail said he'd think about it. About a
month later, Hail called Fritzler and told him he'd donate the helicopter if Fritzler would fix it up.

Fritzler's been working on the restoration project here and there for a couple years. He has experience
fixing up machines. He grew up on a farm in Windsor and spent much of his life making farm equipment
run again. He thinks that made him fairly handy.

But it's a lengthy process. It takes time to track down parts that are no longer in production. He bought
an old blue and white Marine helicopter for the parts. The previous owner had it certified for commercial
use and used it to lift large air conditioning units. Fritzler bought an old Army helicopter too.

"Both of these (helicopters) are pretty complete," Fritzler said. Now he just has to figure out which parts
the H-34 needs and which ones to take from the others.

He's not a teenager anymore either, Fritzler said, so his energy has a limit.

"It didn't take me long to realize I bit off more than I could chew," Fritzler said. "I've had some help
from other guys."

He works on it for a couple hours a day, sometimes more. He's mostly working on deconstructing old
pieces and finding the new ones to replace them.

Sometimes when Fritzler looks back on his life as a pilot, he wonders if he really did all the things he
remembers. It was a long time ago. He did two tours in Vietnam and did some airline flying too. But
his last flight in the cockpit was more than 20 years ago.

"I still love to fly," Frizler said.

He might not be able to pilot planes anymore, but this may be the next best thing.

— Kelly Ragan writes features and covers health for The Greeley Tribune.

SATURDAY, MAY 20, 2017

Skunk number six caught under the house, trap and release across the river and lake,
up in the woods, far from any houses. Bought a concrete mixer at a garage sale
yesterday, now to start putting a solid foundation under the house, enough of the
chicken wire.

  MONDAY, MAY 29, 2017


When we'd march from the high school down Hopkins Road to the cemetery, band
playing, kids and vets marching, to line up in the cemetery center and listen to taps
and the rifles salute and then to the park for a band concert and lulling talks by city
officials while the boys and girls ran around on the outskirts flirting and being kids.

        SUNDAY, JUNE 4, 2017

Roy Sebern, an abstract expressionist painter, was the one who named the bus,
for on painting day when the bus was being painted by the pranskters, he climbed
up on the hood and painted the name on the sign board. He later gave us
the reason for the name.

you are flier number

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