MONDAY, MAY 1, 2017


When I was 18 and about to graduate from high school, we always had a big May Day outing on the football
field with three May poles stuck in the ground and long ribbons hanging from the tops of the May poles.
Grade school kids, hanging onto the ends of the ribbons, danced around one of the May poles, junior high
kids around another, and high schoolers around the third. The band played, the rest of the school kids sitting
in the bleachers sang along to the May Day song: Ring around the May Pole, dance among the worms in the
grass, watch the two dogs stuck together in the end zone, give the finger to the principal and missus Fartmiller,
the old maid Latin teacher. Well, you probably know the rest of the song so I won't bother with it any more,
point is, those happy innocent May pole dancing days got done in by the damned Russkies who copped May
Day all for theyselves with their macho military parades that were as long as Moscow city limits and went from
dawn to dusk, cowing us so much we put our May poles in the basement and slunk away, not too sad, for don't
forget, we told one another, The First of May, First of May, outdoor screwing starts today.

The labor movement picked May Day as their day of solidarity and celebration.

In French, "m'aider", a shortened version of "venez m'aider" (meaning "come and help me"), got picked up
by the English speaking military as a cry for help: Mayday, Mayday, I'm in a ton of trouble here.


How did folk musicians affect the political atmosphere during the 1960s?

The folk musicians were a powerful force in the political atmosphere, being a voice
for peace love and happiness on all fronts and they had a large following of folks w
ho also believed in the values they were singing and playing about.

What kind of impression do you think that folk musicians of the 1960s have on music today?

It's still alive and well with thousands of young musicians carrying on the tradition.
There are so many music forms today that folk gets sometime overlooked in the radio and
media world but it is alive and thourishing in live concerts.

What kind of impression do you think that folk musicians of the 1960s have on modern culture today?

It's so sunk into the culture no one really thinks of it but those who love folk and follow the
music live lives that are in contrast to the materialistic consumer buy buy buy use use use, throw away society.

    How did folk music in the 1960s affect your daily life?

    There all the time, mostly records, the Weavers, Bob Dylan, Judy Collins, Odetta, Joan Baez.                
Whistling and singing along, the attitudes and beliefs part of everyday experiences.


I've had a theory.
In the coming centuries, the ORIGINAL Star Trek will be done like Shakespeare plays are now.
Each episode will be played carefully..thoughtfully.. by actors who have seen ..many ..other actors, do it previously.
Like,, Laurence Olivier, or something.
It's THAT well-done.

Whattya think ?

ha ha, looking into my crystal ball I see Star Trek and Gilligan's Island fighting for supremacy.





The starter on my old but reliable riding lawn mower went out last fall and hasn't come
back until a few days ago when I ordered a new one. First, I had to take off the engine
cover and the flywheel cover and the cylinder cover (and a good thing I did, a mouse
had a nest in there and if left there, it would have overheated the engine and ruined it,
and how do I know that? I already ruined the previous engine that way) and remove other
covers and take out the battery before I could get at the starter; a bitch by the way
to get out.

Yesterday, I put the starter back in (easier than taking it out) and started to reassemble
all the covers when it startedraining so I had to cover everything up. Today the sun
shines and I'll be back at it again, anxious to see if the old beast will still run, for Spring
has sprung, and the grass has riz, and this is where the good times iz.


Hey I'm watching an old Star Trek episode right now, called, "Wink of an Eye". It's the one
where these aliens are all super-fast around the Enterprise crew... and then Captain Kirk gets
DOSED.. and HE speeds up the the (beautiful female) alien's speed factor...

But GREAT! The spot where Kirk starts GETTING OFF... the alien DROPPED his coffee...
and suddenly Jim Kirk starts TRIPPING... everyone around him is moving S-L-O-W-e-R-R-R....
and you can see him, like, just about waving his HAND in front of his face to see if it's, like, REAL, man!

-- China Greg

When my brother, John, lying on the ground at Wikkieup, with his hand over his eyes, was asked by
the farmer who towed the bus out of the wet sand, "What do you do in real life?" John replied without
moving his hand, "This is about as real as it gets."

-- kb



Yes, still having a wood fire in the woodstove, weather been cold and rainy, and I burned
the last piece of oak so nothing to do but go out and cut some more. This past winter's
ice storm brought down lots of trees so there is oak galore if you want to climb the hill
and bring it back to the truck.

FRIDAY, MARCH 24, 2017


  " Rock and roll was high energy, explosive and cut down. It was skeleton music, came
out of the darkness and rode in on the atom bomb and the artists were star headed
like mystical Gods. Rhythm and blues, country and western, bluegrass and gospel
were always there – but it was compartmentalized – it was great but it wasn’t dangerous.
Rock and roll was a dangerous weapon, chrome plated, it exploded like the speed of light,
it reflected the times, especially the presence of the atomic bomb which had preceded it
by several years. Back then people feared the end of time. The big showdown between
capitalism and communism was on the horizon. Rock and roll made you oblivious to
the fear, busted down the barriers that race and religion, ideologies put up. We lived
under a death cloud; the air was radioactive. There was no tomorrow, any day it could
all be over, life was cheap. That was the feeling at the time and I’m not exaggerating."

-- Bob Dylan from the interview   For the whole interview, click on:

MONDAY, MARCH 19, 2017



Hello Capn Ken,
 As an EyE-talian American, I always find it funny about the
excitement of St.Patty's Day. We here Sicilians honor St. Joseph
on March 19th. The Semi dad of Jesus. Good ole carpenter. The guy who
let Mary ride a donkey, etc For that Save-UR of duh World. Make an
altar with Breads, Eat Pasta, with Fennel and sardines and hard boiled eggs. Drink wine .
Seems like there is too much attention paid to the Irish Dude.
With St. Joseph, your tongue is never Green
-- Paola

FRIDAY, MARCH 17, 2017


by Ken Babbs


You look like you’d find a hare

for ever upon the ground you stare.

The madness of time marching on.

In like a lamb and mad as a March hare.

Things that are forgotten reappear.

Winds gather like sleeping flowers

And start howling for endless hours.

Stick to thy winter flannels

Till thy winter flannels stick to you.

Step outside into the bowers

Smelling the presence of the up-thrust flowers.


Tis the luck of the Irish, the Irish I say,

With a tootle-aye, tootle-aye, tootle-aye ay.

Yes the luck of the Irish, the Irish I say,

With a tootle-aye,  tootle-aye, tootle aye ay.


Beware the Ides of March!                                                                                                      

Ye don’t want to be tormentin' the                                                                                                     

Little green men.

The leprechauns dance

And the little men sing                                                                               

The gold is at the end of the rainbow.                                                                                            

While the men wanted gold

The coleens planted potatoes.

They hauled seaweed

And covered the rocks

Until it was deep enough

They could plant potatoes.

They should have left the little people alone.

They wouldn't have got  the  snakes.

No one could go outside for fear of the beasts.

And the potatoes all withered

Untended in their graves.

Until St. Patrick came on the scene.



Tis the luck of the Irish, the Irish I say,

With a tootle-aye, tootle-aye, tootle-aye ay.

Yes, the luck of the Irish, the Irish I say,

With a tootle-aye, tootle-aye, tootle-aye ay.


St. Patty is laying about

with his shillelagh right and left.

The heather pipers are blowing

Lassies are loosening their pins

Their hair and skirts fall.

March winds twirl

And everyone's thinking

The sky is the ground

And potatoes grow up

Instead of down.

Lassies in front

The land has been scoured so

Clean by the snakes

The ground is all bare

From Killarney to the lakes.


Tis the luck of the Irish, the Irish I say,

With a tootle-aye, tootle-aye, tootle-aye ay.

Yes, the luck of the Irish, the Irish I say,

With a tootle-aye, tootle-aye, tootle-aye ay.





                          BE MINE, VALENTINE

Performed with the band, Terrapin Flyer, at the WOW Hall in Eugene OR
Saturday night, February 11. Did a Cassady reading backed by the band,
Melvin Seals rocking on the organ.

           To hear and see the performance on youtube, go to:



Oak, cut off of a big branch that crashed after a storm in the woods.

Had to carry the rounds a ways to get them in the truck. Lots of rests.

Home to split the rounds with the woodsplitter, then truck and wheelbarrow
to the woodshed for stacking.


First you go buy a truckload of hay, back it up to the tarp covered A-frame and unload

Then you bring a bale out to the pature and put it in the funky feeder for the cow.
Where is that durn crittur? I wanted her in the picture, eating. Oh well, another time.


Been usy working on my book in the mornings and, thanks to clear cold days,
have been out cutting and spliting and stacking firewood, building up the stacks
in the woodshed that have been depleted over the worst (I hope) of the winter

A guy I  know has a book out and wants to trade book links with me
so what the hell, give him a look at:


"Words is a collection of basic truths, universal law, wisdom, inspiration, reason,
thoughts, views, ideas, concepts, convictions, and facts. These observations and
realizations are from the minds and hearts and life experiences of very remarkable
human beings who preceded us. I honor and thank them all: 347 men and 33 women.
There are 686 entries. Many contributors have only one entry, while others have a
dozen or more. This assortment of easy reading covers the previous 3,000 years, from
Homer to the 20th century. The final product was gleaned from over 10,000 such items
recorded for posterity. Humanity has not really learned much new, not anything that
really matters concerning living a simple, honest, happy, fulfilling, and rewarding life
on our lonely planet; it is just stated in different ways, and at different times, down
through the centuries. This book is recommended for any mature, searching heart
and mind, particularly victims suffering from PTSD, and anyone dealing with the
third and fourth decade of life. It should be particularly beneficial to that human
being who is of the opinion that “life’s a bitch…and then you die.” Between the covers
of this book, I hope to illustrate otherwise."
--Terrence Heintz


A week after I had the plate removed from my arm I went in to have the stitches
taken out and the bandages gone, back to bare flesh. Also had some damage done
to my hand taken care of. All thanks to the top orthopedic surgeon, Doctor Dave Bear.




Here's Patrick, after the dishes are cleared off of the table and gifts are being
exchanged and Look: a new T shirt, he was thrilled.


There was a family trooping around the yard this summer, mama papa and four little
ones, then they wandered away. About a month ago we smelled a skunk under the house.
I borrowed a have a heart trap from a neighbor and caught the skunk and released it
way up in the woods, across a lake and river so it wouldn't come back to our house. What
hey, another skunk under the house, then two more for a total of four and the fourth one
skunked me when I was releasing him from the trap. Took a couple of days to clean that
mess up and we though we were done but no, there's another one under there and tonight
I must set the trap again.

The long pole is to keep from getting so close to the trap you get sprayed but in this
case I couldn't get the door open with the pole and made the mistake of walking up
to the trap to fix the problem and the stinker let loose.



   In '75 or '76 at one of the poetic hoohaws kesey and I threw at the u of o, a
video team from Denver came and filmed the whole thing. The sound man
for the team was Bill Murray, a carefree guy who got on the bus at one point
and sat at the wheel and did a whole Cassady imitation that was a crackup.




All through the past ages of my eleven years

My mother shared my trouble, my sorrows and my tears

She corrected all my wrongs, and paid for all my duds

She bought me all my play things and fed me all my spuds

She tucked me in my covers and brought me up just right

She wore out 15 razor straps to make me see the light

She should be responsible for what I am today,

And from now on what I do I’ll do my mother’s way.

-- Ken Kesey


At the 50th anniversary of the Acid Test Graduation in Eugene, Oregon, I read
a piece I wrote about the real Acid Test Graduation in San Francisco on
Halloween in 1966 when Neal Cassady handed out diplomas and Kesey
spoke, point being time to move beyond.

"Welcome to the world of magic," he said in a deep voice. "Where the mysterious
rules and the fog is peeled back and your eyes behold wonders for new possibilities
are revealed.

"We opened a crack in the wall and let in more light. Now it's up to you to widen
that crack. Wake them up. And once awake, keep them awake, use your skills as
performer, wizard, magician, raconteur, teacher. Get up out of the chair, on your
feet, get to work. Help other people out. Raise your consciousness. Respect all others.
Be kind. Humor works all the time. When the housewife was asked why she
volunteered to work in the high school cafeteria, she replied, 'Youth must be served.'"


Dove of Peace, photo by James Mena

        Big rock in the front yard of a house in Springfield, Oregon


Bob Dylan and Allen Ginsberg at Jack Kerouac's grave.

PLAYBOY: Mistake or not, what made you decide to go the rock-'n'-roll route?

BOB DYLAN: Carelessness. I lost my one true love. I started drinking. The next thing
I know, I'm in a card game. Then I'm in a crap game. I wake up in a pool hall. Then
this big Mexican lady drags me off the table, takes me to Philadelphia. She leaves me
alone in her house, and it burns down. I wind up in Phoenix. I get a job as a Chinaman.
I start working in a dime store, and move in with a 13-year-old girl. Then this big
Mexican lady from Philadelphia comes in and burns the house down. I go down to
Dallas. I get a job as a "before" in a Charles Atlas "before and after" ad. I move in
with a delivery boy who can cook fantastic chili and hot dogs. Then this 13-year-old
girl from Phoenix comes and burns the house down. The delivery boy - he ain't so mild:
He gives her the knife, and the next thing I know I'm in Omaha. It's so cold there, by
this time I'm robbing my own bicycles and frying my own fish. I stumble onto some
luck and get a job as a carburetor out at the hot-rod races every Thursday night. I
move in with a high school teacher who also does a little plumbing on the side, who
ain't much to look at, but who's built a special kind of refrigerator that can turn
newspaper into lettuce. Everything's going good until that delivery boy shows up
and tries to knife me. Needless to say, he burned the house down, and I hit the road.
The first guy that picked me up asked me if I wanted to be a star. What could I say?

PLAYBOY: And that's how you became a rock-'n'-roll singer?

BOB DYLAN: No, that's how I got tuberculosis.

Hunter S. Thompson and Bob Dylan. Hunter dedicated Fear and
Loathing in Las Vegas to Dylan.


         "I get weary of people who use pessimism to avoid being responsible
for all the problems in our culture. A man who says 'we're on the road to
disaster' is seldom trying to wrench the wheel away from the driver. I prefer
the troublemaker."


--Ken Kesey




Don Buchla, modular synthesizer pioneer, dies aged 79
Geeta Dayal

The musician and inventor created the Buchla 200 and the Buchla Music Easel, which were used by Silver Apples
and Grammy winner Suzanne Ciani
Don Buchla. Photograph: Supplied

Friday 16 September 2016 20.57 EDT Last modified on Saturday 17 September 2016 19.01 EDT

Don Buchla, the groundbreaking synthesizer inventor, has died age 79.
He was considered a true iconoclast with an uncompromising vision of what synthesizers could be. His impact
on electronic music was vast; Buchla independently invented the first modern synthesizer at the same time
as Robert Moog, in 1963.
Although Moog is often credited with having invented the first modular synthesizer, Moog even admitted
during his lifetime that Buchla was the first to have a full concept of how to put all the modules together to
add up to an instrument. Buchla tended to avoid the term ‘synthesizer,’ preferring to use terms such as
‘electronic instrument.’
“He invented a whole new paradigm for how you interface with electronics – much more human, and a
whole new thing,” says Buchla’s close friend Morton Subotnick.
Subotnick commissioned the first Buchla synthesizer in 1963 and had been friends and collaborators with
Buchla ever since. “I put an ad in the paper and he showed up,” Subotnick says. “We wanted to make a
new machine.”
The synthesizer, the Buchla Series 100, was finished in 1963. A string of pioneering new electronic
instruments followed the Buchla 100 in the following decades; Buchla was actively designing and
inventing up until his death.
“He was a genius and an adventurer – an adventurer in the real sense of the word,” says his friend,
musician Bob Ostertag. “Almost everything he made was unprecedented.”
Buchla had a major impact on legions of electronic musicians. “Don Buchla gave me my electronic wings,”
says the musician Suzanne Ciani, who first met Buchla in Berkeley in the late 1960s. “He was a consummate
inventor who had genius, unswerving dedication and playfulness in his designs. ‘The Source of Uncertainty’
and the ‘Multiple Arbitrary Function Generator’ modules are two of my favorites. He never wore matching
socks, but oddly, as an enthusiastic tennis opponent, always wore pristine tennis whites. I will treasure the
days I worked for him, and hope to carry on the musical vision that he bestowed upon us.”
The musician Laurie Spiegel, another longtime friend of Buchla’s, says her life was changed forever after
first encountering a Buchla 100 system in Subotnick’s old studio in New York’s West Village in the late 1960s.
“I never figured out what exactly it is about Don’s electronic musical instruments that makes them so musical
in feel,” says Spiegel. “I’ve used quite a few kinds of synths and systems. His were special, magical, musically
magnetic somehow.”
Buchla played a key role in the 1960s California counterculture. He was involved with the Trips Festival in
San Francisco in 1966, in which thousands of hits of LSD were given away for free to the audience. Buchla
also helped build the Grateful Dead’s massive, legendary sound system, along with his good friend, the
infamous chemist and audio engineer Owsley Stanley. “He was very close with Owsley,” says Ostertag.
“Owsley and Don were the two hippie geniuses.” Buchla, he says, would sometimes sit underneath the s
tage at Grateful Dead shows in the 1960s and secretly play along with his synthesizer.
The word ‘visionary’ doesn’t really do justice. He had no fear of anything.
Through his life, Buchla was a true contrarian who never followed trends. He wanted to maximize creative
freedom and possibilities for musicians, and he designed his unique instruments to reflect that. “It doesn’t
bother me that my own ideas in particular have not been widely perceived,” Buchla said in a 1982 interview
in Keyboard magazine. “It does bother me that the powers that be have such short-sighted views of what
musical instrument design and development could be all about.”
Other inventors of electronic instruments looked to Buchla as a friend and inspiration. “Don was very
much a rebel, defying convention at every turn,” says the synthesizer inventor Roger Linn. “It’s so nice to
see the innovative ideas he developed 50 years ago being embraced by so many young electronic musicians.”
Subotnick called him a “wizard of interfaces”. Buchla’s philosophy was that a well-designed instrument
would never become obsolete – to this day, his synthesizers are revered. The tendency, as Buchla argued
in Keyboard magazine, was that when engineers designed instruments, “they design from the inside out.
They design the circuits, and then they put knobs on them.”
“But if a designer expects to design legitimate instruments, he has to design them from the outside in,”
Buchla continued. “He has to build the outside of the instrument first. This is what the musician is going
to encounter. You cannot become obsolete if you design a legitimate instrument from the outside in.”
Buchla also made his own music and performed live, often with unexpected results. “One piece that is an
insight into Don’s more silly personality was a piece where he had us wear giant sunglasses with musical
staves printed on them, while we waited for popcorn on a hot plate to start popping, signaling when we
should play our slide whistles or glissandos on our instruments,” recalls Joel Davel, who worked with
Buchla for over 20 years.
His son, Ezra Buchla, a musician based in Los Angeles, remembered his father as “the most singular person”.
“The word ‘visionary’ doesn’t really do justice,” says Buchla. “He had no fear of anything – leaky boats,
lightning storms, failure. He couldn’t have done what he did without a basic joy in his work and an innate
intellectual generosity that swept people along.”

We got to know and hang out with Don Buchla in 1965 and 1966. We joined up with him at the Trips Festival,
interfacing our figure eight feedback loop lashup with his electronic music maker. Here's the mixer and effects
maker he built for us to use on the bus.




Chilly, drizzly morning, calls for first fire of the season in the wood stove.


                   Been concentrating on writing book and totally ignoring the website, bad me.



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