06.28.06
Posted in Uncategorized, music news at 12:00 pm by Deb
We spent the weekend, actually from Thursday night at the Old Songs Festival in Altamont, NY. We had a great time, though it was hard to have Grandsweetie with us. We volunteered, so I basically spent Friday and Saturday days either working or chasing after her. She had a incredible time. Here she is only 2 1/2 and already meeting the bands and hanging out with them. She is not shy of very many people and, like my own children, not intimidated by performers. She lives with performers, so it doesn’t seem out of the ordinary to her. She loved The Wild Band of Snee, and invited them to sit with us at one of the picnic tables. She spent every evening dancing and meeting people during the concerts. I didn’t get to do a whole lot that I wanted to do, but did get to hear the workshop on Social Commentary. Cris Williamson, Peter Siegel, Peggy Seeger and Enoch Kent were all great, but Jay Mankita brought down the house, or rather brought them to their feet, with “They Lied.” I had first heard this song at a campfire at Falcon Ridge Folk Festival 2 years ago. He had just written it and was going around trying to learn it and getting feedback. Since then, it’s become quite popular. You can download it for free. He just wants it out in the world being heard and passed around. I became very inspired to get back home and write more political songs. Now, if I can only find some time…
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06.27.06
Posted in Uncategorized, life's stories at 9:59 pm by Deb
One of my favorite shows I saw while in the Bay area was a Bill Graham fund raiser for San Francisco schools. It was called SNACK Sunday (Students Need Activities Care and Kicks). The proceeds were meant to go toward a shortfall in San Francisco’s education budget for music, art, and sports, but the school board announced a day before the concert that it had “found” the necessary $2 million. It was an unbelievable and very bizarre line-up and went on all day long, from morning until night. Graham Central Station opened. “You know how hard it is to be funky at 10:30 Sunday mornin’?” Sly and the Family Stone, Neil Young then Dylan with (most of) The Band, Santana, Tower of Power, Starship, Earth, Wind and Fire, Tower of Power, Doobie Brothers, Santana, Joan Baez and more; billed as Jerry Garcia and friends, the Dead indeed showed up with Merle, Ned and Keith on keys. There was lots of mingling and jamming onstage and the show went on and on. What an amazing day! Some of the special guests between bands were Marlon Brando and Willie Mays. Willie Mays came out and said, “I’m Willie Mays and I think what you people are doin’ is great!” Bob Dylan closed the show with Neil Young, Rick Danko, Levon Helm and others. They did “Knockin’ on Heavens Door”, then got everyone who was left there on stage and tried to do “Will the Circle Be Unbroken” though no one could remember the words. After the first opening chorus, they all looked at each other to sing a verse, realized that it wasn’t happening, so they just did the chorus over and over again with great harmonies and instrumental leads in between. Tickets were $5.50 At the end of the show, we all just took over the streets around Golden Gate Park.
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Posted in Uncategorized, life's stories at 9:28 pm by Deb
Northern California in 1975 was a very interesting place to be. There were lots of refugees from Viet Nam landing on the west coast. Pretty quickly, we met a man who had relocated there and was a big dealer in “pot.” X quickly made contact through another fellow who I thought was rather sleazy, though I often thought that about many of the characters X brought around. After all, we had come all the way across the country to get away from the hardcore drug scene and were getting ready to raise a child. I didn’t want to jump right back into it all over again. I was getting better about asking X not to bring everyone home, but he still kept his contacts outside of our home. This guy only dealt in pounds, so X decided to start collecting some money from friends and buy one “communally.” He finally had all the money together and went to meet Contact A who would then take him to Contact B. The rest of us eagerly awaited his return. Pot was very cheap back then, but none of us had much money so a pound, even among a few friends, was a big but exciting investment. It had been a while since X and I were in that business, and this was a new area. I was a little nervous. Well, X met Contact A who told him that Contact B would leave a paper bag under the bridge, walk up the hill past X who would then pass him the money, then go down to pick up the bag. X didn’t really like this idea, but they wouldn’t do it any other way, so he agreed. Everything went as planned, and X picked up the bag and brought it home. He walked in the door, went to the kitchen, got out a knife and some plates, opened up the bag took the “pound” out and sliced up some delicious pound cake in equal portions for all who had contributed. At first, we all laughed about what a warped sense of humor X had. Then we realized it wasn’t a joke, swallowed hard, and tried hard to enjoy our share of the “pound.” Luckily, everyone was a good friend and realized that we couldn’t give them their money back even though X had set up the deal. He later went looking for the guy who pulled a gun on him, so he let it go as a valuable lesson learned. He was still only 19 years old at this time and I only a mere 21. We had a lot more lessons to learn and plenty of time ahead to learn them.
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06.18.06
Posted in Uncategorized, life's stories at 9:04 pm by Deb
Well, there we were settling in to life in California aware that in a short 5 months or so we would be new parents. X had proposed to me before leaving San Francisco. We didn’t really want to marry, but my family was pretty upset about the whole situation. I had, after all, told them the news in a postcard. I’m not sure what I was thinking. I guess I thought they would be thrilled at having their young, unmarried daughter living all the way on the other side of the country expecting their first grandchild with an even younger man who they really didn’t like. Anyway, when I finally called home a week or two after the arrival of the postcard, my mother sputtered something about the mailman being able to read that I was not only pregnant but wasn’t planning to get married, and then sputtered something else about disowning me and hung up. X decided that it actually made the most sense to go ahead and please everyone, so he got down on one knee, laughed so hard that he fell over, got back up on that same knee, fell over again, tried the other knee and finally got the words out, haltingly and punctuated by laughter, “Will you marry me?” I immediately said, “NO!” I finally caved in and agreed. Now it was time to start planning the wedding. We went to a pawn shop and picked out my ring, then to St. Vincent DePaul to pick up a set of tails for X’s outfit. I found a pink Indian dress with blue embroidery. We invited everyone from the Estates, the commune within the commune at Project One (see May 12th & 16th). Now we had to decide on the date, find a minister, a place for the ceremony and the reception/party, and send out announcements. We picked April 5th - not much time for details.
We started looking for a minister and found the County Pastor, Rev. Whale. He was in his mid-70s and was thrilled to be asked. He had never done a wedding before. He mostly did last rites and counseling in prisons. He was so excited and kept calling to check in with us. He always mispronounced X’s name. It was Cavanaugh, pronounced with the accent on the 1st syllable, CA-van-augh. He always said, “ca-VA-nah” (like banana). No matter how many times we corrected him, he always got it wrong. It became a huge inside joke. We decided to get married on the beach where the San Lorenzo River met the Monterey Bay and the Monterey Bay met the Pacific Ocean. We also planned to get married at sunrise on the beach, forgetting that we were now on the west coast where the sun set on the beach. We settled on mid-morning. Sunset didn’t have the same feel for a wedding. We never thought to check out the site or get a permit. Who would stop us? Our reception/party was going to be at Bonnie Dune Beach, a nude beach at the foot of some cliffs. I also decided to change my name. I never liked my last name and had wanted to change it anyway. I liked this one, and it was very convenient.
The night before the wedding, our friends all arrived and helped cook the food. We partied most of the night, and woke up in the morning to torrential rain. Rev. Whale called bright and early to try to talk us into “canceling” the wedding, to which X replied, “Just be there! The rain will stop. I have faith.” We all left for the beach in the still pouring rain, but as we pulled up at the chosen spot, the sky cleared and the sun came out. Rev. Whale and his wife were there right behind us. As we walked up to the beach entrance, which was through the amusement park, we found the gates locked. Oh no, what should we do now? X had a brilliant idea. He suggested we hike down the Railroad tracks and slide down the dune. Rev. and Mrs. Whale were game, so off we went. The Rev. kept making jokes about marrying us on the Roller Coaster, which I would have loved and never even blinked an eye as we slide he and his wife down the dune to the water’s edge. Since it had been raining so hard, we were the only ones on the beach, except for some seagulls. I will try to scan and post a picture later. A friend played beautiful flute music during the ceremony bringing more birds in even closer. At the end of the ceremony, Rev. Whale declared, “And now I’d like to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Ca-Va-na (pronounced like banana). He looked very puzzled as everyone laughed loud and long. As soon as we reached the cars, the sky opened up again, so the party was at our apartment. We had way too much food, way too many refreshments of a wide variety, and everyone passed out by noon only to wake back up and party again in cycles until after dark. We couldn’t afford a honeymoon, and the only furniture we had was a bed, two lamps and some crates, so a friend loaned us his stereo for the weekend.
We were so burned out the next day, that we had the biggest fight we had ever had so far. We were on our way to a free jazz concert in a little school auditorium and ended up screaming at each other out on the sidewalk. We paused long enough to hear the concert then started up again on the way to the grocery store. There was a group of activists organizing Home Care workers outside the store. We were so heated up and unthinking, we ended up joining this organization, not realizing what it even was we were joining. I guess it should have been a warning of what was to come.
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06.17.06
Posted in Uncategorized, life's stories at 7:52 am by Deb
Santa Cruz was filled with all kinds of characters. One homeless man, who we called “God”, stood in various places around the city talking to the angels and preaching to no one in particular. He would stand in front of the big plate glass window at the local supermarket and “rant”. He would yell at all of us walking by about listening to the angels because they were trying to help us and didn’t we hear them? Then he would talk to the angels and tell them that he was trying to get us to listen, but what could he do about it? He would get so frustrated that eventually he would just be incomprehensible and mostly spitting. I guess you could say he was “spitting mad”. He also used to stare straight into the sun. he never went blind in all the time we knew him or knew of him. He told us he had learned how to do it from a spiritual leader. People would stop and stare at him as he did it. Sometimes he was very lucid and other times, he was completely unaware of his surroundings. He would sometimes hang out with us in San Lorenzo Park having normal conversations. Other times, he had no idea who we were. Many years later, some young “yahoos” started going through the park beating up “Trolls” for kicks. They called the homeless people “Trolls” because they slept under the bridge at night. Things got very out of hand, and they started beating them to death. Unfortunately, “God” was one of the unlucky ones who was killed. The killers were caught and convicted, but only served 10 years. I guess the homeless were considered insignificant as the town grew. As far as I was concerned, they added to the character.
There was another man who taught me about the wild foods in town. I already had an interest in plants and herbs, but hadn’t really foraged. He first showed me where the rosemary, sage and wild onion grew, then we moved on to other wild foods. I liked this guy a lot. His story was that he had been a nuclear physicist, making very good money with a wife and family. One day he had an awakening and quit his job. Apparently, his wife freaked out and had him committed for a while, where they did all sorts of intervention that basically fried his brain. His wife eventually left him taking all his money and property, his children had no contact with him, and he was left homeless and confused. I could tell the guy was still brilliant, but couldn’t access it consistently anymore. He lived completely off the land and tried to teach anyone who was interested how to do the same. He was one of the gentlest and most knowledgeable men I had ever met. He taught with a patience and expectation of your complete intelligence that is rare. He was my favorite of all the “characters” there.
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06.09.06
Posted in Uncategorized, life's stories at 2:41 pm by Deb
So here we were on the road again. This time we were in a vehicle and were actually looking for a place to settle down. Our friends wanted to find a house with us somewhere on the northern California coast, but where? We cruised around up and down the coast looking at different communities and ended up in Santa Cruz. This was the place for us. Our friends didn’t want to rush into anything, so we headed out to Big Sur. We camped for a couple of nights but, having been warned by the Rangers about wild boars and being soaked by the rain, decided to move on. We camped another night in the redwoods and were awakened in the middle of the night by grunting and snorting sounds. I was convinced it was the wild boars. I kept trying to get X to go out and see. He wisely refused. I didn’t sleep all night. In the morning, we asked the Park Ranger about it. He laughed and told us that it was probably raccoons. The boars weren’t in that area, but raccoons make horrible and scary sounds when they’re rooting around at night. I felt very foolish, but relieved and even more anxious to be settled. I’d had enough of transience for a while. That day, on the road, our friends’ car broke down. They decided that without a car, they didn’t really want to stay in California after all. Their families sent them airfare, and they took off. We went back to Santa Cruz, which was then the murder capital of the world though we didn’t know that at the time. We did notice that there was an awful lot of missing person posters up all over town. Pretty early on we found out that the nearby mountains had become a stronghold for various cults. Rumors ran rampant about child sacrifices, weird ceremonies involving young women, cannibalism, etc. I decided I just wouldn’t walk around alone at night and probably not go camping in those mountains any time soon. I had to admit, there were some pretty creepy people in town. There were also some of the coolest people I had ever met. Soon after we arrived, I found out that one of my older cousins was living there. I went looking for him, but missed him by a couple of days. Not long after that, X and I were walking in downtown Santa Cruz, which was a pedestrian mall, and heard a very unique raspy voice, then the sound of a harmonica. There was a man we had picked up hitchhiking in the late fall, just before we took off on the road. We had put him up for the night and given him gloves and a hat. He wasn’t really dressed for the weather and hadn’t eaten in a couple of days. It was the least we could do. Suddenly, there he was. He recognized us at once. We jammed on the street a little while, then we moved along. We never saw him again. Another day, I turned a corner, and there was Arlo Guthrie playing on the street. What a wonderful place. I was home.
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Posted in Uncategorized, life's stories at 2:03 pm by Deb
Before we could actually take off, we needed to make a little money to travel with. I had applied for and was getting WIC and Food Stamps because I was pregnant, but would be leaving my stable address and might lose them for a while. X started working the night shift at an all night coffee shop on Market St. Yikes! The guy he replaced left because he had been shot on the job. It was a little bit creepy. We were used to some pretty hard-core people, but this was too much. He didn’t last long. We went back to busking. (See May 26th) We stood out there day after day making barely enough to buy X cigarettes and coffee, though, in addition to money, we often got food stamps, food and pot. As a matter of fact, one day a boy, about 9 or 10-years old, dropped a joint in our case. it was a little heartbreaking. One day we were singing our hearts out when a younger middle-aged man came by, set up right next to us and started banging on his guitar and yelling out songs. It was so bad it hurt. We were pissed because he had invaded our spot. There are all kinds of unwritten rules about busking that cover invasions like that and also hogging a spot if someone is waiting. We hadn’t been there very long at all, and he certainly hadn’t waited at all. He just walked right up and started doing his thing right in the middle of one of our songs. Anyway, X started getting revved up to go say something to him when we noticed how much money he was getting. This guy was a musical nightmare, but he had already made more money than we had made all week. There was a lesson in this. The next morning, we took off for Market St. to work for the day. It was overcast and gloomy, but we wanted to make some money and get out of the city. Before long it started raining. We ducked into a corner doorway to stay dry. All of a sudden, X started singing “Wild Thing” at the top of his lungs, rasping it out, banging away on his guitar and jumping out of the doorway at people as they walked by. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open as person after person dug into their pockets and dropped not just change, but dollar bills into the case and rushed away, looking back over their shoulders to make sure he wasn’t following them. I went off to find a little market. On my way back, a street person asking for spare change accosted me. Normally, I don’t feel accosted by these requests, but this guy was really pushy. When I insisted I didn’t have any spare change, he told me that if all I had was big bills, he could change them for me and pulled out a huge wad of money to show me. After asking him to give me some of it, as I really had no money, I hurried back to X, deciding that I had had enough of the big city and wanted to get out. When we got back home that afternoon, my tax refund was waiting for me. This was our ticket out. I was starting to feel an urge to settle down and think about our impending family.
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Posted in Uncategorized, music news at 1:29 pm by Deb
It looks like we will be starting to record our three song demo at Moondog East Studio on July 8th. I can’t wait! I haven’t worked in a studio in a while and never with Dick. Also, in the past, I worked doing back-up vocals on one project, and then I worked only on Rock & Roll projects. This will be a whole new thing for me. We’re hoping to continue recording after this and release a CD before too long. We’re even thinking of doing a live recording to try to capture more of who we are and what we do in shows.
More news: Dick bought another guitar yesterday. He is well on his way to having his guitar/ string instrument business going. I assume he’ll want to play it tonight at our Moon & River show. Those of you in the area who may come to the show can hear for yourselves what an incredible sound this one has. I am so lucky to have access to all these treasures that he collects. What a blessed life I have.
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06.03.06
Posted in Uncategorized, music news at 8:13 am by Deb
After much frustration and many setbacks, we have finally decided to bite the bullet and pay for recording time. We met with the studio last night, mapping out plans and playing our songs for him. We’re going to start out with a simple three song demo of all originals. How do we always manage to make simple things more complicated. Here we have only three songs, but ended up needing to bring four instruments. Luckily, we each play the same instrument for two of the three songs or else we’d be bringing more. Oh well, we want it to be representative, and we do play many instruments, so I guess it makes sense to have variety on the recording. I’m a little disappointed that Dick doesn’t want to record a fiddle tune. Maybe he’ll change his mind, and we’ll add a fourth tune/song.
On Thursday, we played a freebie for the Local Early Intervention Coordinating Council. It was a picnic with clowns, face painting, pony rides, crafts, lots of food, and us. It was an opportunity for families and caregivers of disabled children with disabilities such as varying degrees of autism and spina bifida to get together for some fun. It felt like an important thing to do. We had a good time and played well, engaging the kids as much as we could. Tonight we play a benefit for the Independent Learning Center where my youngest son, RC2, will go to high school next year. June is already filling up with birthday parties and festivals, not to mention our regular gigs. It’s a good thing we’re also good jugglers.
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