Tuesday, January 30, 2024

excerpt from George Floyd and the Pursuit of Happiness

 ... her name was Dara.

  Dara was one of the thousands who every morning would crowd the elevators on their way to work at Capella Towers in downtown Minneapolis Minnesota. I also was one of those thousands. It would be quite easy to be one of the anonymous thousands headed to their cubicles on whatever floor they were assigned. It was hard for me to be anonymous however..guess a black dreadlock carrying a cup of Caribou Coffee or if I was feeling rich a cup of organic Peace Coffee would be easy to pick out in the largely vanilla spaces of Downtown Minneapolis.

I was a temp worker doing phone work on assignment. It was an assignment I thought was only to last 6 months or so but ended up stretching out to 2 years. Capella was the most sterile work environment I had experienced from the time I moved from Denver to Minneapolis in 1988. My Minneapolis work experiences included time at places such as Minnesota Public Radio. Greenpeace and my favorite the worker run worker owned vegetarian restaurant the New Riverside Cafe otherwise known as the ''Biomagnetic Center of the Universe" located in Minneapolis's West Bank neighborhood, one of Bob Dylan's old haunts and a neighborhood that was one of the last countercultural holdouts. In work environments such as those, it was easy for me to connect with kindred spirits and many co workers became close friends outside of work. 

The one exciting moment at Capella came on the day Prince died. Workers were talking to each other outside of our cubicles and seeing as Capella was only blocks from First Avenue where Purple Rain was filmed there was talk of other co workers making a trek to First Ave, however there were no co workers to be seen when I made my homage.  If I was going to make any connections from Capella it was going to be then. 

Shortly afterwards two events occurring seemingly simultaneously was going to end the possibilities of new friends from work. One it was announced that the work assignment I was on was indeed coming to an end and Two my girlfriend of four years and I had just split up. We had been living together. As personal events were unfolding my daughter Rose announced her intentions to return to Colorado and in doing so expressed her wishes that I return also. Rose now was married and was with two children. With young grandchildren to see, no job and now no permanent housing her offer seemed worth considering, At the same time my ties to Minneapolis are longstanding.  While my ties to Denver stem back to 1980 I have bounced back between Denver and Minneapolis a few times beginning in 1988. My stays in Minneapolis however have been for longer periods of time. Given the seemingly ever changing Denver scene each Denver experience has been a new adventure. While change is constant no matter where one goes every Minneapolis return has been marked with a sense of merely picking up where I left off.

With ties tearing me in both directions I took a third route. I was going to give myself 3 months to find new work in Minneapolis. Finding work meant I'll stay Not finding work and I'll be on my way to Denver. One month went by..two months passed. Went on what I thought were promising interviews but nothing happened. By the time the third month came I was getting nowhere so it was off to Colorado, staying at first with a friend in the Metro area but eventually settling in Fountain Colorado with Rose her husband and the grandkids.

Besides work another arena where I made connections in Minnesota was in politics. In 2000 I was a candidate for one of Minnesota's US Senate seats. I was a candidate on the Grassroots Party ticket. The Grassroots Party was founded for to promote and its primary issue was the legalization of marijuana. I received over 21,000 votes more than any other third party. candidate. Not having big money to run my campaign I had to make the most of my appearances on Minnesota Public Television, Minnesota Public Radio and to as many music festivals as I could attend. Another tool of the campaign was the use of chat rooms and the formation of online groups. My group wasnt very large by political standards 40 or so people but it was a lively group that in different forms remained long after my campaign was over. We'd discuss topics such as Minnesota politics of course, Minnesota weed as to be expected as well as the subject that brings every Minnesotan together..the weather The weather is always on the mind of a Minnesotan whether it's -20 with two feet of snow on the ground or 90 degrees in the summer..hot,humid and seemingly every bug able to survive in a northern climate. One of the regular contributors was a couple.. Sherald and Dara.  Sometimes they'd make comments as a couple other times the husband would message other times the wife. They always made things lively. Then one day both of them vanished and could not be found on any online platform I was on.

There was a night in Fountain when checking social media when I noticed that Dara was online. I messaged her to welcome her back. I asked her where she'd been and through one long message after another I learned of her plight. I learned that she and Sherald had left Minnesota for North Carolina where things took a turn for the worse in their marriage. She then returned to Minnesota bringing her two kids leaving him and North Carolina behind  In one regard Dara is no different than many others I've known through the years. Minnesotans never leave Minnesota. If they leave they return and if they don't return Minnesotans never leave Minnesota in their hearts. She then said she was grateful her company let her do remote work through all the transitions. I asked her what company she worked for. 

Dara "Capella"

Me: "Are you kidding me? I was working at Capella for 2 years!"

Dara " I know" before I left I saw you on the elevator but it was crowded and I didnt say anything" I worked on the 9th floor on IT you worked on the 7th.. I saw you get off on the 7th floor. Then I was in the 7th floor lunchroom and you were there. I was going to introduce myself as the person you've been corresponding with all these years and I tried to start a conversation with you but you seemed uninterested so I went about my business"

" I can now say not only did I vote for you but you had the cutest ass in that office"


 We began to have regular chats. I was scheduled to return to Minneapolis for a recording session.We talked about meeting for lunch .

Minneapolis is a major city with a cultural scene comparable to New York City at the same time many of Minneapolis' residents are transplants from those smaller rural towns like Litchfield, Crosby and Warroad and for a big city that sense of everyone knowing everyone else is alive and well. Word of mouth spreads like in a small town and when word gets out that I'm back in town it doesnt take long for my social calendar to fill up with old and longtime friends.As a result I did not meet Dara for lunch during that visit

Dara vanished online again shortly after I returned to Fountain but then out of the blue I received a message. It was Dara. She was asking me to turn on my camera and chat. Previously I knew that Dara lived in North Minneapolis. When I turned my camera on I knew right away this wasnt North Minneapolis, Before Dara showed her face all I could see was thick grasslands, a long loosely graveled road leading out to the main road I presumed and an old fashioned barn silo.

"Where are you?" I ask

"Home" says Dara

"What? " I say

Dara " After my grandmother died the family was preparing to sell the farm It's been in the family for 100's of years. I didnt want to see it leave the family so I made an offer and the family accepted it.  I'll be homeschooling the boys" She then pointed the camera to what looked like an indoor greenhouse area. "There's lots of land to garden. You talk about your gardens all the time. How about when you come to Minnesota in May that you spend a few days playing in dirt with me? She had a particularly noticeable smile as she said that. Anyone in Minnesota who knew me to any degree knew that when May rolled around I was likely to be seen. Dara knew that too. I would always return to Minneapolis in May. It used to be I'd return in May for its Mayday festival sponsored by a local puppet theater company. .COVID  killed off the festival as it stood. Nevertheless Minnesota would always seem to come alive in May

I told Dara I'd come to her farm

The day before I was to leave for Minneapolis I began hearing reports both on the news and from friends that a man named George Floyd was killed while under the custody of Minneapolis Police. Nothing surprised me about the behavior of the Minneapolis Police. Over the years I had my share of run ins with the Minneapolis Police..walking while black mostly and once for leaving my apartment while black. I also knew Minneapolis to be a very politically active town. I had participated in a number of anti police brutality rallies in my time there and I thought to myself "There's going to be some response to this"

People still weren't flying much when I left for Minneapolis. DIA felt like a Ghost Town. I was the only person seated on my entire row on the plane. I dont think there were 10 people on the entire flight and Humphrey Airport in Minneapolis known by the locals as Terminal 2 felt like a completely abandoned building. 

The Twisted Groove is a small shop located in South Minneapolis. It specializes in selling tye dye wear and other items one might readily see at a Dead show. It had also become like a community center for Minneapolis' counterculture particularly after the demise of the ''Biomagnetic Center of the Universe". "The Groove" as we liked to call it was the home of potluck meals and parties as well as many a drumming session that would last until the wee hours of the morning. It was at the Groove where I was to meet my buddy Dhanny , his girlfriend Felicia and friends who knew I was in town for a barbeque. It was just like old times being at the Groove, food conversation and lots of weed to smoke..well not quite like old times. Now everyone had their own smoking device or joint. The traditional pass the joint around thing was dead.

We had just finished the barbeque when Felicia announced she was leaving to attend a march to protest George Floyd's murder. This was new and different and an early sign something different was in the air. Felicia was known for hanging at music festivals and pot protests. George Floyd's murder was just the latest incident regarding the Minneapolis Police. Situations that contained the possibility of confrontation was not usually Felicia's way,but she was on her way

The impromptu music jam that followed was fun but Dhanny had to work the next day and I had an hour and a half trip to Dara's Farm coming up  Dhanny was my ride back to the home where I was staying.

Dhanny " So you're going Up North to help garden? Up North is a common Minnesotan term particularly used in the Twin Cities area for any spot North of Minneapolis and St Paul "When are you coming back to the Cities?" 

"I'm not sure yet" I tell him.

Normally by car a trip from the Twisted Groove to the house where I was staying would take 10 minutes max. Something was taking place however every street Dhanny tried to cut over was blocked. This march was huge. 37th St  35St No luck in crossing over. We're nearly to Cedar Avenue when a frustrated Dhanny pulls over "Sorry Dude you're going to have to walk I cant bring you any closer"
I did encounter the march on my walk and decided to wait till the march passed before crossing the street. While waiting for the march to pass an anarchist acquaintance of mine saw me on the street and broke from the march to give me a hug
"When did you get back into town?" she said
I replied "Just today"
Oh man the shits about to fly..we're headed towards the Third Precient headquarters!" She handed me an N-95 mask as she rejoined the protest

When I'd go to Minneapolis I would stay at the house of my former roommate which is located within a few blocks from the Third Precient  Police Headquarters

While laying in my old room instead of the usual quiet what I heard was the sound of helicopters hovering sometimes beaming their lights so I could see my roommate's backyard. There was the sound pop pop pop! and at moments the noises of the chants of the protesting crowd would wash into my open window

It was clear from my first 24 hours that this was not going to be my typical visit to Minnesota
          
                                    (To Be Continued)




Wednesday, January 3, 2024

Last of the 60's

 January 3,2024


I'm writing this on the eve of my 69th birthday. Tomorrow also begins a countdown till January 2025 when I reach the 70 mark.

One that seems clear to me.. no matter how young I "feel" and according to my last checkup I'm in better shape than ever,chances are the bulk of my life has past.   How much longer remains to be seen. My mother passed away at 56. My dad passed at 80. My grandparents lived until their 70's The average lifespan for a black man in America is 71. One can only speculate..I've already out lived my mom.

I've already outlived some of my heroes..Bob Marley Richard Brautigan to name a couple and at times life seems unfair in that in the last few years I've lost people who are much younger than myself

I say all this not to be morbid but with the realization that there's no escaping getting old and that life the way we know it now is finite.

The question now becomes "Whether it's tomorrow or 5 10 or 20 years from now How do I want to spend this senior chapter?"

I remember when I turned 30. I wasnt too happy with the shape of my life. I had blown a full college scholarship and a career path only to end up in a church group that was a borderline cult. I jumped from that into a marriage that was doomed from the start and now I had a child I had no idea as to how I was going to support as 8 years within the group left me with no practical skills to survive in the "outside world". The result of dealing with that "crisis" were among other things were runs for political office but more importantly rediscovering my voice as a writer but now doing it in a new and creative way. More importantly than all that was learning to live a life by being who I am and according to who I am..some call it "counterculture" Rasta. (By the way though many of the jobs I took on were low paying and shitty I survived and so did my daughter)

I feel like the question I face now is every bit as daunting as the question I faced in my 30's. I trust it will unfold like its supposed to.

I do know this since turning 50,I've tended to go all out on my birthday every 10 years.

If everything works out the way I hope See you in Minneapolis Minnesota January 4th 2025!


Wednesday, July 26, 2023

Ike Tribute


This is a story about our friend Isaac Ike Russell the reason we are gathered here today.

When we heard the news that Ike was missing we all got scared.

Ike was our friend

Our bandmate

He was a lover and a Father

Ike Russell

We all banded together to go help find him . We shared pictures and posted signs all over town because

Ike was our friend Our bandmate that we love and a good father

Ike Russell

We began to share our Ike stories..true stories, sometimes South Minneapolis rumors, He made us laugh He made us cry... and sometimes he'd make ya mad but they were all stories of Ike..His story Her story Our stories Ike stories

Guess its the tragedy and beauty of being human that sometimes we just take a person's presence in our lives for granted and think somehow they'll always be among us till they're gone

                     I tell a short Ike Story  Musicians continue playing

Now we all miss him

But Ike never really goes away.. Spirits and Stories move from I past to I present and on into I future

One Love One People

Isaac Ike Russell Our Friend One who we love our bandmate Good Father






Tuesday, February 7, 2023

Memories of 56 Years of Super Bowl Watching and Counting



 2/7/2023


Sunday marks the 57th Super Bowl to be played, and barring some unforseen circumstance I'll be able to say I've seen them all. I know to some degree it gives away my age. To that I say "So What?" I'm happy to be able to say I've seen a few things. I think stories from those perspectives passed on can be some of the most valuable things passed down from one generation to the next..but I digress.

As a kid,I watched both NFL and AFL Football before the merger of the two leagues. My favorite football team was the Green Bay Packers but my favorite football player came from the rival AFL,Buffalo Bills quarterback Jack Kemp. Buffalo played Kansas City for the right to play in Super Bowl I  . If Buffalo had won, given my fondness for Jack Kemp and the underdogs as proven by my fandom in baseball of the New York Mets who then were regarded as the hapless clown princes of baseball,I might have switched my allegiances before that game. Kansas City won,but I still hoped the AFL would make a good showing for themselves.

 I have a few standout memories of Super Bowls of the past..here are a few

Super Bowl I  CBS held the Television rights for the National Football League NBC held the television rights to the American Football League. It was agreed upon that the first Super Bowl would be broadcast on both networks. I watched the first half on CBS,the second half on NBC. The Grambling College Marching Band remains one of the best Super Bowl halftime performances I've seen.

Super Bowl III  I loved the braggadocious style of Joe Namath and the laying in the sun and partying on the beach style of  the New York Jets was another way of flipping a middle finger to the establishment. This was the 60's after all.. at the same time I was bracing myself for a defeat at the hands of the old school establishment Baltimore Colts. They ran roughshod over every team they faced. We know what happened. This may have been the only Super Bowl where my brothers and I would be rooting for the same team.. They chose not to watch what most folks thought would be a one sided affair and instead decided to watch Ice Station Zebra starring Jim Brown in the movie theater.

Super Bowl IV Kansas City Chiefs vs Minnesota Vikings. With a Christmas present tape recorder,my brothers tape recorded every play near the end zone. A TV RedZone type of deal ahead of its time. Lots of Kansas City scoring. We also recorded the victorious locker room of Kansas City and the merciless treatment of the oldest Daniels brother towards the youngest- a Minnesota Vikings fan.

Super Bowl VIII  The Super Bowl was the only live TV show broadcasted in Alaska at the time. The game had to be beamed in via satellite. The World Series only got same day delayed broadcast in a state that usually had a 2 week delay basis of programs broadcasted in the "Lower 48" On top of things this was still the era where the Super Bowl was broadcast at the same time as a regular season game meaning noon or 1 EST. Given the time difference in Alaska this meant either waking up to the Super Bowl or pulling some semblance of an all nighter. Closing times in Anchorage bars was 4am.. Guess which option this college student took?

Super Bowl IX By now I'm living in a commune in the heart of Alaska's Matanuska Valley. No TV's allowed. We did make weekly visits to Anchorage on the weekends,and on this particular Sunday,I excused myself from the commune brethren to watch the Super Bowl at a J.C. Penney's in Downtown Anchorage Alaska

Super Bowl XI- Worst Super Bowl ever..the hated Oakland Raiders vs the hated Minnesota Vikings.

Super Bowl  XII  They lost but this was the Super Bowl where my fandom switched from the Green Bay Packers to the Denver Broncos . Watching the reports of Denver fans and their excitement and hardcore enthusiasm "Broncomania" captured my attention

Super Bowl XXI By now I'm living in Denver and got to experience Broncomania first hand. John Elway's "Drive" got the Broncos to the Super Bowl but the magic didn't carry over to the big game and the Broncos lost

Super Bowl XXII Lost my voice for a week after the AFC Championship Game. When the Broncos went up 10-0 in the first quarter,I thought for certain I'd be losing my voice again celebrating a Super Bowl victory. Final score Washington 42 Denver 10. Doug Williams made history by becoming the first black quarterback to lead his team to victory in the Super Bowl..Why did it have to happen against the Broncos?

Super Bowl XXIV I flew back to Denver from Minneapolis to celebrate what I thought was to be a sure Denver victory. Halftime score 49'ers 35 Broncos 3 Friend Doug Wilhelm and I agreed that it couldn't get any worse so we agreed to take tequila shots for every San Francisco score in the second half. Final Score 55-10  Word to the wise: Best not to walk around Denver the day after a Super Bowl loss when one has outstanding traffic tickets. Cops and Judges like everyone else in Denver tend to be in a bad mood after a Broncos loss.

Super Bowl XXXII Denver Broncos 31 Green Bay Packers 24 Denver Broncos are World Champs in one of the most exciting Super Bowls ever! I believe all of Downtown Minneapolis and the West Bank neighborhood heard my screams after the game.

Super Bowl XXXVIII New England Patriots vs Carolina Panthers Super Bowl Halftime shows have been something I've paid little attention to in recent years,shows with Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers,the Rolling Stones and Prince being exceptions. Was watching the game with  friends Andy Larson and Dan Schauer. At halftime Andy went into the kitchen to prepare halftime Walleye. I'm staring at the TV but not really paying attention as a halftime show featuring Justin Timberlake and Janet Jackson drew little interest. Next thing I hear is Dan shouting "They just showed her boobs!" I missed it and didn't realize it created such an uproar till reading accounts of it on the internet.

Super Bowl XLIII Pittsburgh Steelers vs Arizona Cardinals It was this Super Bowl where I began my tradition of making my hottest chicken wings of the year. That year I brought out your basic Buffalo Wings..every batch has been consistently hotter since.

Super Bowl XLVIII  The tone for the day was set with a morning argument with my significant other  We had a Super Bowl party scheduled for our St Paul apartment. Things got worse with the opening snap going over Peyton Manning's head for a safety. Friends who attended the party witnessed the David "Screwface" Final Score Seattle 43 Denver 8

Super Bowl 50- The last Great Super Bowl to date Hosted another Super Bowl party but this time, anyone not rooting for the Denver Broncos was not invited. It was a much smaller gathering but a much better result. I was in St Paul but my heart was in Denver wondering why I couldn't be in Denver for this game. Denver Broncos 24 Carolina Panthers 10

Reaching that stage now where every Super Bowl game I get to see is an added blessing.  I just hope there are a few more memorable games in store.





Thursday, February 2, 2023

Reggae Theater..the beginnings (excerpt from the forthcoming book An Unusual Life)

 " Mitch I think we're going to jail tonight"

  We both looked at the crowd filing into the Cedar Cultural Center as the place was rapidly filling up. Our escape plan which we had spent considerable time developing was based on a half full Cedar. We were instead looking at a near capacity crowd making it nearly impossible to run to the back of the Cedar where we had placed a box in order to jump the fence should the cops show up. 

If you had asked me 3 or 4 years prior to the opening of my first play Malcolm X meet Peter Tosh that I'd be preparing to stage a play I would have laughed. Creative writing was not my forte..or so I thought. The only writing I had done prior to writing that piece were columns in the college newspaper and a piece on foreign policy in the now defunct Odyssey West magazine,a black owned publication that billed itself as the Ebony Magazine of the Rocky Mountain West.

In college I had been asked to play a part in Song of the Great Land a play dealing with Alaska history, written and produced by the Dean of Anchorage Theater Professor Frank Brink.  Because the part he wanted me to play involved a kissing scene and I had not kissed a woman to date,I turned the role down. Song of the Great Land won an award and toured the country. From that time on,doing anything related to the stage was something completely out of my mind till my friend Carla Vogel somehow persuaded me to participate in a community theater project being produced in the Whittier Neighborhood of Minneapolis. The play Flying Crooked was based on the 1934 Minneapolis Truckers Strike. Originally I was only slated for a bit role however thanks to cast changes,I found myself with a lead role and played the part of Billy Williams a brash and fiery union organizer. As reluctant as I was to participate in the Whittier Community Play, I was shocked as to the degree I loved playing the role. For the first time since I left college and dreams of a political career behind, I was involved with something I felt passion for. Furthermore, the audiences attending seemed to enjoy my role. I needed and wanted to do more of this however the reality was there were going to be few opportunities for a black dreadlocked actor. This reality seemed to be confirmed through a conversation I had with Tony Paul. Tony was the host of the KFAI Radio program "Shake and Bake" featuring reggae and world music,he also worked with several local reggae bands but also served as a musician in some Penumbra Theater productions. I figured if Tony couldn't get acting roles at one of the nation's top black theaters, there was little hope for me.

It was a result of Flying Crooked that I ended up as a participant in the Playwright Center's Many Voices Workshop for aspiring African American Playwrights. The Playwrights Center was known to have played a role in the launching of Pulitizer Prize winning playwright August Wilson,a man whose plays I enjoyed and after seeing a feature on his life came to admire him. Writing a play was not on my my mind when I joined the workshop. I was in the midst of a 7 year writer's block where I couldn't even write the essays and columns I had written previously. I figured that perhaps by being around other writers,I'd find my way back to essay writing. I was wrong: Malcolm X meet Peter Tosh was the first thing that came out of my pen during that workshop. At the end of the workshop, the Many Voices writers were scheduled to present readings of their work at the Walker Art Center as part of a tribute to Malcolm X during Black History Month. Prior to the Walker reading,there was to be a reading of the works at the Playwrights Center.

What I was going to bring to the workshop through Malcolm X meet Peter Tosh was a concept I called "Reggae Theater" It's intent was while it was going to contain dialogue and stage actions more akin to more mainstream theater,its themes and concepts were going to line up more heavily with what one heard in reggae music. In reggae music,one wasnt going to receive an entire history lesson,but its lyrics,whether it was referring to Marcus Garvey or the slave trade would create a curiosity causing one to explore those subjects. My idea with reggae theater was to do the same thing.  With this particular play, dialogue had to align with the Peter Tosh music playing underneath. While not attempting to emulate the Jamaican patois,some of the lines had to be read with a reggae like rhythm and there were some lines that had to be read behind Nyahbingi drums..the heartbeat of reggae music.

Malcolm X meet Peter Tosh almost never made it to the workshop reading. While I was excited to be writing again and I liked the concept I was working with,I knew there were going to be other excellent writers reading their works and other highly renowned writers in attendance. Would they like this work?? Will it be laughed at and ridiculed?? or Would it be hated?? At this juncture, I wasn't ready to deal with another failure in life. I felt like I had failed by dropping out of college, failed by not seeing the signs and getting out of the church group, failed in marriage and at times seemed like I was on my way to failing as a parent. At this point I could be grateful for the writing exercise but I could easily throw it in the garbage can if I was on the road to embarrassing myself. I asked Mitch Olson to read the piece and to give me his honest opinion..does it go to the Playwrights Center or the garbage can?? I first met Mitch while working at the New Riverside Cafe,a worker owned worker run vegetarian restaurant located on the West Bank neighborhood of Minneapolis. The West Bank was noted as a countercultural magnet for years. Its folk music scene in the 60's spawned the likes of Koerner,Ray and Glover and played a role in the development of a young Bob Dylan. The New Riverside Cafe was known as "The Biomagnetic Center of the Universe" Mitch was crashing often at my place at the Holtztermann apartments on the West Bank across the street from the "Riv". Mitch knew I had been writing the piece but I never showed it to him till just prior to its reading. To paraphase Mitch "This is awesome! You gotta bring it to the Playwrights Center" I brought it to the Playwrights Center where the audience appreciated the vibe and expressed their appreciation. There was not one negative word spoken about the piece so the next stop was the Walker Art Center or so we thought. With about a week before the scheduled event was to take place,the Many Voices readings were cancelled.

Can you say pissed off?

 What made me angrier was the explanation given for the cancellation by the facilitator of the workshop Dwight Hobbes. According to Hobbes,the cancellation was due to pieces presented at the workshop not meeting "standard theatrical fare". Standard Theatrical Fare?? What is that?? And since when did the Walker Art Center demand "standard fare" Seemed to me the Walker presented many exhibitions and performances that leaned towards the avant garde.  In creating my play,I wasnt aiming for "standard" but rather to bring reggae onto the theater stage. I found the excuse given for the cancellation to be lame and so did the other writers in the Many Voices workshop.

Sometimes life backs one into a corner to where a person has no other choice but to take radical action in order to salvage it. Writing and preparing for the reading was about all that was going right in life at that juncture. Signs were very evident that the New Riverside Cafe would be failing soon and I had no clue what to do next should it fail. At one of the many smoke sessions Mitch and I would conduct in my Holtztermann loft, I found myself conducting an inventory of my skills. I concluded that writing was one skill and Mitch piped in saying "We both know how to smoke plenty of weed!" The cancellation was a blow but something within was pushing for this piece not to die with the cancellation. I call it JAH (Rasta term for the Creator) Guidance.

One of the reasons the New Riverside Cafe was dubbed the "Biomagnetic Center of the Universe" was it served as a community hub of sorts. Through its eclectic blend of co workers and customers one could find out about a whole range of activities from the site of the next protest, to what musicians were playing where and who had the best marijuana. Lots of West Bank neighborhood news could be learned while working a shift. Working one shift,I learned the nearby Cedar Cultural Center was undergoing an overhaul and had new management. One of the things the Cedar wanted to do was to bring some community based events on its stage. Upon hearing this news,I presented an idea to the members of the Many Voices workshop:  Let's present our work the way we see fit. standard theatrical fare be damned and let's present it at the Cedar Cultural Center!

All agreed and I signed a contract to present "A Tribute to Malcolm X" on May 19th- Malcolm X's birthday. Gate receipts were going to cover the expense of the Cedar. I showed the contract to Mitch. He figured we'd need at least 30 paying patrons in order to cover the cost. I was going to need at least 30 people  to show up. I didnt know how I was going to cover the cost otherwise.

 Once the event was set,I knew I was going to present a full blown production of the play.A full blown production was going to require much more than a reading thus I had my work cut out for me. First, there was work to do with the script.  One participant in the Many Voices Workshop who showed an interest in the work was Terry Bellamy. Terry was a well respected actor in the Twin Cities mostly known for his work at Penumbra Theater.  Terry acted in many August Wilson's plays and it is said that the character Levee in the Wilson play Ma Rainey's Black Bottom was based on Terry. Terry also portrayed Malcolm X in the Jeff Stetson piece The Meeting dealing around a fictional meeting between Martin Luther King and Malcolm X. Terry's approval of my portrayal of Malcolm X was important to me. In writing the play Malcolm X's lines were created primarily by listening to recordings of his speeches and had to be written completely sober. In contrast Peter Tosh's lines were created primarily by listening to recordings of his songs and had to be written completely stoned. Terry had a passion for Black Theater and he took the time to listen to my rants over the  Playwrights Center/Walker cancellation. Terry's curiosity increased when I told him of my intention of staging the play and agreed to meet with me as an unofficial dramaturg. Those meetings took place at the Biomagnetic Center of the Universe.

Terry admitted in our meetings that he knew little about reggae music and learned from me quickly that with my concept of Reggae Theater,the emphasis was to be on REGGAE and its major emphasis on peace, harmony, history and herb .Terry however argued that there had to be a way of bringing some basic theatrical concepts of tension conflict and resolution without changing what I wanted to do with the piece. In the script scheduled for the Walker reading both characters railed against the corrupt racist system (Babylon in Rasta terms) both from their perspectives but there was no conflict with each other. This was to change and I knew immediately where to go with it. Rastafarian Peter Tosh viewed marijuana as a sacred plant and would militantly smoke it regardless as to where he was or who he was with. Muslim Malcolm X used and dealt marijuana during his days as Detroit Red but upon his conversion to Islam gave up his usage and viewed it as a street drug and harmful vice.

As the piece was being rewritten, I needed to recruit actors willing to participate. We couldn't offer any money but an opportunity to showcase skills,but rehearsals were going to need to start soon as the rewrites were complete. I knew in order to keep the rhythm of this reggae piece flowing, I was going to portray Peter Tosh initially. I wasnt going to offer a Jamaican patois but I knew the pace at which the piece needed to go. I was able to bring an Island sensibility to the play when KFAI's Tony Paul from Trinidad and Tobago agreed to play the role of "The Reporter" Tony had agreed to be part of the reading that was to occur at the Walker. It was important in casting where it was most important for the people playing certain roles had a feel for reggae music.

I didn't need the person portraying Malcolm X to have a feel for reggae music. A host of a midday R&B and Euro Disco program on KFAI, Dwight Thompson did not have that feel,however he had the strong voice that was most important in casting that role. I met Dwight as he would drop into the New Riverside Cafe prior to doing his show. He saw playing the role would help draw attention to his radio program.

Terry liked the conflict I brought into the piece and loved the dialogue I brought to the conflict,but he still challenged me with this statement and question. Terry said something to the effect of now that he can see what I was doing with regard to the reggae element of the piece but then his challenge to me became paraphasing "Do something that would act as a bridge between reggae lovers and regular theater goers"

I liked the concept of audience involvement in theater work. Flying Crooked involved multiple stages inside a circus like tent. Performers and audiences regularly interacted throughout the piece. After performing in Flying Crooked I was an actor in a piece produced at the Heart of the Beast Puppet Theater that involved audience interaction.  Living on the West Bank gave me countless opportunities to catch the local reggae bands in a vibrant local music scene. In addition, the major international reggae artists would make regular appearances in Minneapolis. I love many genres of music and have attended many types of concerts. There is a particular type of energy that flows from the band to the audience back to the band in reggae unlike any other..

The "Bridge" became the character of "The Man on the Couch" Man on the Couch would begin in the audience before slowly ascending onto the stage. He'd then turn on a "Magic Radio" and through the radio he would tune into this fictional meeting. The stage action would be what he was picturing in his head as he's listening to this meeting.. The Man on the Couch has no dialogue. He merely reacts to what he's hearing and imagining in his mind.  Symbolically it was important for the Man on the Couch to be casted as a white hippie as in America,while roots reggae,symbolized by the likes of Bob Marley and Peter Tosh would be full of lyrics concerning Black Liberation and History,it was originally adopted and supported by America's counterculture, mostly white. I asked Mitch Olson to play the part. Mitch had flowing long hair, was extremely easy going and had a deep love for marijuana. Mitch who was by now practically my roommate agreed. 

At this point Terry felt his work was done. He was curious as to how it would turn out but nevertheless by my casting it and with plans to stage it, he was glad that in a sense I was giving the middle finger to the Playwrights Center. He wished me the best with it and asked me to keep him up to date with developments. 

The "Biomagnetic Center of the Universe" was going to open the door for another outside voice to review and give critique to the play. One of its regular customers was Kevin Cole, a popular DJ at the famed nightclub First Avenue and soon to be Program Director at the alternative radio station REV 105.Kevin knew about this piece from the time its reading was scheduled at the Walker. Kevin too showed a curiosity regarding the piece and I'd share with him updates regarding its progress. Thanks to Kevin, a meeting was arranged with myself and Andrew Tosh son of Peter who was scheduled to perform at First Avenue. Our meeting took place the day before Andrew's show. He carefully and slowly read each page of the script. He never asked questions or said a word while reading it but after he was finished he jumped up and proclaimed "This piece captures the spirit of my father! " 

At the same time I was putting this piece together, there was a Holtztermann neighbor putting together a new reggae band. I felt this couldn't have come at a better time so I thought.. we could help each other out with our new projects. This hope quickly came to an end after I saw them at a couple gigs..they were constantly late, there was constant drama both onstage and off surrounding members of the band and overall there was a sense of the band that just felt off to me. I had written in a segment in the play that allowed for a live band but I was afraid I going to have to eliminate that part.

I shared my fears and frustrations over coffee at the New Riverside Cafe one afternoon with Van Nixon, lead singer for the popular Twin Cities band The Maroons. While many were aware that the Twin Cities had a music scene that spawned the likes of Dylan, Prince, Replacements and Babes in Toyland,it was mostly the locals who were aware of a vibrant reggae and world music scene as well. On any given night one could hear the sounds of the soca/reggae band Shangoya, Ipso Facto,World Citizens or Les Exodus of all of them,the band with the most dedicated following was the Maroons. Begun as a band founded by drummer Mick LaBriola that would travel to schools around the state teaching on Caribbean Culture,The Maroons expanded to playing at various events around town as well as at various bars and nightclubs. Their blend of classic reggae covers as well as reggae covers of popular American artists such as Dylan along with their originals was cause of their popularity. From the time I first saw the Maroons at a Mayday Festival at Powderhorn Park,attending Maroons shows became like attending church where one just had to go and by attending almost any and every Maroons show I could attend,I got to know Van. Van also showed an interest in the piece when I'd share its progress but nothing could have prepared me for the response Van gave me when I shared with him my concerns about this one particular band doing my show. Van offered the services of the Maroons! I now had a complete cast to go along with how the play was rewritten and with word that the Maroons would be a part of this play brought another layer of credibility as well as interest in the production that was to take place in May. In addition it came to me in a dream that Van's original song "The System" be included in the piece. Though it was the only non Peter Tosh tune involved in the play,the song fit the spirit of the piece. The West Bank was like a little village where people got to know the goings on of others. There was already interest generated from the scheduled reading, interest and curiosity increased upon folks observing the likes of Terry Bellamy being seen on the West Bank regularly but word of the Maroons taking part was serving to really generate interest. On top of things rehearsals were being held on the deck of the Holtzermann.

Peter Tosh's militancy on legalizing marijuana equaled his militancy on world and cultural affairs. In fact his militancy around marijuana (ganja) was the thread surrounding his world view of the "shitstem" as he called it. In the play, Peter Tosh's militancy became clearer when the conflict between he and Malcolm X was rewritten and included in it.  In the reading scheduled for the Walker, while Tosh's diatribes attacking Babylon were certainly colored by his beliefs on marijuana, I felt in some ways I was holding back on the subject in order to gain acceptance at the Walker. The cancellation served as a reminder of the ills of compromising to gain acceptance from one that is likely to reject you in the long run anyhow. Now that this was being staged and produced on our own,there was to be no holding back regarding Tosh's depiction. Now the script called for several spliffs to be smoked including one that was scripted to go into the audience.

"I'm like a Stepping Razor
Don't you watch my size
I'm dangerous, dangerous" - Peter Tosh from his song Stepping Razor

“The most dangerous creation of any society is the man who has nothing to lose.”- James Baldwin from the Fire Next Time

Given where life was at the moment,there was little to lose in going all out in staging it on our own. The same conditions that existed when faced with a choice of bringing the script to the Playwrights Center in the first place were still very much alive now. There was always the possibility like with any stage work that it could turn out to be an epic failure. There were already some associated with the Playwrights Center saying that I'll never see another stage again after the the Cedar Cultural Center.
Was the mention of marijuana the reason the reason it was stated that the piece didnt meet "Standard Theatrical Fare"? If that was the reason,and if everything else in life is going down,why not go out Blazing?
I spoke with Mitch with the following thoughts..if all documented and ancedotal stories stories about Peter Tosh spoke of him being unafraid and unconcerned about where he smoked marijuana to the point to where he was arrested and beaten by cops because of it, AND as we are presenting a  REGGAE theater piece where marijuana plays a significant role in virtually every aspect of reggae music and Rasta spirituality AND with the case being at most reggae shows,the aroma of marijuana is very present,why not be completely real and smoke marijuana on stage?  Mitch seemed to vibe with where I was coming from and agreed. His approval was important as the rewritten script called for the Man on the Couch to smoke a joint in the last scene. We are the only ones in the play scripted to smoke herb.
 The worst that could happen to us we felt was maybe we'd a few days in jail for public smoking and given the fact that our lives seemed to be spiraling there were worst outcomes than that.
I had rehearsed lines for performances before and I had smoked plenty of weed in my day but I had never combined the two but I was not going to find out how the two worked together till I hit the stage at the Cedar. For one,my daughter Rose was attending many of our rehearsals on the Holtztermann deck. From a young age,she took a liking to plays and was enjoying getting to know the actors. We werent about to take that experience away from her and also we needed weed to smoke on our own! It was a tall enough task to save enough money for the marijuana we needed to smoke for the show.

The only ones to know that real marijuana was to be smoked was Mitch and myself. We figured we were saving a lot of trouble for ourselves by keeping it that way. The closest thing we did to reveal our intentions was to reserve seats at the front of the stage for friends of ours that we knew would not turn down a chance to smoke a joint even if it was in public. Perhaps there were subtle hints with the marijuana leaf that was included in our flyers promoting Malcolm X meet Peter Tosh as part of the Tribute to Malcolm X.

The Tribute to Malcolm X was garnering quite a bit of local publicity. Tony Paul was promoting it on his show at KFAI as was Dwight Thompson on his. There were at least two other shows on KFAI publicizing the event. Each participant in the program was tasked with promoting it within their own circles of influence. For myself along with Mitch,working at the New Riverside "Biomagnetic Center",Maroons shows,rehearsals on the Holtzermann deck served as its own advertisement in addition to the flyers which were making its way to various West Bank spots.

Malcolm X meet Peter Tosh was scheduled at the end of the first half at the Cedar tribute. That was because the full production of the piece was the longest of those being presented from the workshop. Also time was needed to set up the incense that needed to be burned prior to the beginning of the play.
Mitch's role as the Man served his purpose as a bridge as before he reached the stage he was the recipient of every reaction from laughter from those who knew him to those getting upset thinking he was holding up the action that was to take place onstage.

I smoked 5 joints onstage that night, didn't drop a line and the timing that had to go along with the music was perfect. People got up and danced during the Maroons scene. The play received a large ovation. The Cedar's Director asked whether there would be anymore "Pyrotechnics" in the second half of the Tribute. I assured him there would not be. I jumped on Mitch's shoulders when it was over. We didnt need the box to jump the fence.

In the words of Peter Tosh "Said me Nah Goa Jail Fe ganja no more"







Thursday, January 19, 2023

David Crosby on the Radio

I had planned on spending my summer back home in Hartford Connecticut in the Summer of 1974. Hartford was a long ways away from Anchorage Alaska and with the expense of airfare, one had to carefully choose the times in which to visit home. I got a job generating leads for an aluminum siding company and was enjoying spending time with my mom again. I got the strong sense she was enjoying my time back home as well.

The plan was for me to spend the summer in Hartford then return to Anchorage sometime in September shortly before the new semester was to begin...then I got a call from David Trent my friend and college roommate. David too had left Alaska for Kansas City for the summer and I assumed he'd remain there till it was time to return to Anchorage.

David "You're coming out to Kansas City Crosby Stills Nash and Young are at Royals Stadium you'll stay with me and the day after the concert we'll drive back to Anchorage!"

David also mentioned that the Beach Boys and Jesse Colin Young were on the bill but all I could hear was Crosby Stills Nash and Young and  Alaska  I loved Crosby Stills Nash and Young and although Stephen Stills was my overall favorite, my favorite solo album was David Crosby's If I Could Only Remember My Name. The title itself seemed to represent the times we were living in.  I loved Alaska too. It was a dream come true dating back to the days of loving Jack London stories.. Mountains, Moose, breathtaking landscape and with Alaska being dubbed as the "Last Frontier", I found myself meeting some of the most interesting characters one could meet. There was also the intoxicating feeling of freedom ,not only being away from home for the first time but 5,000 miles away from home for the first time!

I did feel bad about cutting time with my mom short and while the job generating leads was boring as hell,I seemed to have a knack at it and I was making decent money at it. However with a little more prodding by David and with one call to Dewey Kornegay,  the manager at the campus cafeteria where I had worked during the school year assuring me I had a job through the summer ,I gave notice at my job and informed my mom I was returning to Alaska earlier than planned.. couple weeks later I was on a flight to Kansas City. I had already made enough money to afford the flight as well as money to afford the roadtrip that was to take us through the Alaska Highway (or Alcan) back to Anchorage.

David was driving a 1964 Ford Falcon Stationwagon I worried about its ability to get us to Alaska but the Alaska license plates were enough to where some kind people on the way to the same concert we were going to in the midst of traffic that was barely moving at all let us pass them. We got to Royals Stadium in time to catch the entire Beach Boys set and of course Crosby Stills Nash and Young. Each had their solo moments during an incredible and memorable show.


The next day we were on our way to Alaska. The radio in the Ford Falcon Stationwagon worked but in 1974 the chances of David and I finding a radio station with music to our liking travelling through the states of Missouri,Iowa,the Dakotas and Montana was about zero. Our tapes became the radio.

The tapes would often go into repeat mode and while every so often we'd change things up as we both liked the music of Miles Davis and John Coltrane, If I Could Only Remember My Name ran most often. Song with No Name seemed to fit the mood as often our journey was delayed by long waits for trains in scorching cattle country heat.

I'm pretty certain If I Could Only Remember my Name was in the tape deck when during a search at the Sweetgrass Montana USA/Coutts Alberta Canada border a jar of marijuana seeds was found by the Border Patrol. David and I were forced up against a wall,searched and the car was ransacked. The radio/tape deck was torn apart

They didnt find anything else to bust us with and there were more adventures in store for us on the way to Alaska but those stories are for another time.

To this day ,that trip remains as the most memorable roadtrip taken by yours truly and the music of David Crosby is forever linked to that trip.

Thanks David








Monday, August 9, 2021

School Days 1963-1964

My grandson Johnathan started third grade today. When one reaches that stage of life one often hears the statement from elders "I was your age once" Now I've reached the stage that I'm the one making that statement.

One never knows at what age or stage in life impactful events will occur in one's life I know this: There are not too many years that impacted my life like my third grade year.

It was in my third grade year where my Dad beat me for flunking math. Gave me a black eye. In today's world Dad would have faced charges but this was 1963-64. Then such events were swept under the rug. I remember going to school and having to lie as to what happened. "I fell" was the common excuse.

Mom did take him to court in an attempt to have his visitation rights revoked. Dad had the better lawyers. I hated to see my Mom so upset and I was aware that as a result of this beating,I may not be able to see my Dad again. Not the greatest position to put a young kid in.

Though spankings were an especially common practice in black households, the memory of that incident kept me from ever laying a hand on Rose.

It was in third grade where I had my introduction to baseball. I wasn't very good. I was pretty much a guaranteed strike out. That tendency didn't make me a popular figure amongst my classmates and it was just my luck in a game deemed the third grade championship game that I would come to bat in the last inning with the bases loaded and two outs. When I struck out, I had a group of boys charging me. My gym teacher protected me from punches meant for me and upon hearing rumors that a group of boys planned to beat me up after school for striking out decided to escort me home.

I became a fan of baseball, most notably the New York Mets,a team I could relate to because they were terrible. The ringleader of the attempt to beat me up was given a choice of teaching me how to play or face suspension. He chose the former. The story of those baseball lessons from him is for another time. I eventually became good at baseball,good enough to be a starter on my high school varsity team. Always played with a chip on my shoulder and boos or negative comments on my play served as added motivation.

I was in Miss Amato's third grade classroom on November 22,1963 when news of President Kennedy's assassination hit. In my own way given the beatings and would be beatings, I could relate to what must have been the hatred towards JFK for someone to put a bullet to his head. At the same time, given the outpouring of love and grief towards him,I reasoned he must have been doing some good.

In watching the four days of live television following the assassination, I concluded I had what it took to run for President and from that day till the day I dropped out of college,it became my aim.

My hope is that Johnathan's third grade year is less traumatic