Where Are You Floyd?

Floyd Bedford was a fellow student at Alaska Methodist University. Our backgrounds and lifestyles were as different as Night and Day. I being from Connecticut and with a prep school background while Floyd was from the South Side of Chicago having received an education from the streets. Floyd liked to dress exquisitely even going to class while blue jeans and a flannel shirt was fine by my standards. I was a quiet reflective sort.  Floyd was  boisterous. While Floyd smoked marijuana,he couldn't be considered as one of the school's infamous potheads and often said to me when we were together was "Get that damn reefer out of my face!"

While the differences were pronounced,we were linked as the only blacks on campus at Alaska Methodist University and became friends largely because of that reason.

Sometimes the cultural differences between us frustrated Floyd. "Daniels sometimes I think the only reason I'm friends with you is because you're the only nigger on campus!" (In the 70's it was okay for blacks to use the N word when speaking to each other..this was the era of Richard Pryor) Nevertheless,we'd hang out and he found my circle of friends on campus as interesting as any.
Our reasons for attending AMU were different as well. My road to the White House was going to be through getting elected Governor of Alaska and attending AMU was part of the plan. Floyd was chasing a woman from Chicago who joined the military and found herself stationed at Elmendorf AFB in Anchorage. Sometimes that relationship seemed to go well,but at other times,it didn't go well and she also had military engagements that kept her away and during those times well,Floyd wasnt averce to pursuing and spending time with other women.

AMU was the first place in my lifetime where I seemed to "fit in" culturally and socially. I had studied Alaskan culture long before I attended,so much so that many Alaskans were surprised that I was not born or raised there. Alaskans are very provencial and can be indifferent at best to "outsiders" AMU was a college attended mostly by Alaska natives. After being considered a "nerd" or "outsider" for so many years,it was a weird new experience having a social life and even weirder observing Floyd with his Southside Chicago ways as the "outsider" although my circle of friends tended to be pretty accepting. Floyd appreciated that,but there was this problem: My circle of friends was a representation of the man to woman ratio in Alaska which was 8 men to 1 woman and while there were a couple women in my circle,they were either involved with someone else or they too "smoked too much reefer" in his estimation. Besides,we tended to get into what he called "hippie talk" mostly discussions about Alaska politics and philosophy..a lot of us during that time were reading the likes of Carlos Casteneda,Kahlil Gibran and Thoreau. This type of talk would even follow us to the bar we would attend on weekends-The Pines,a dive bar not too far off campus serving cheap drinks and featuring 70's rock cover bands.. No dress code. This frustrated Floyd to no end. He preferred some of the downtown Anchorage clubs..places where he had a better chance of showing off his wardrobe as well as the dance moves he learned in Chicago nightclubs and on Soul Train. He also had a better chance at picking up women in those clubs.

There was onc club where he would never bring me or fellow students. It was called The Black Orchid. It was attended mostly by black servicemen and women stationed on the Air Force and Army bases. That's where he and his Air Force woman friend would attend.

One New Years Eve,either Floyd and his girlfriend had split up again or she was away on assignment.I dont remember now. All I know is Floyd was going to spend New Years Eve at the Black Orchid. He was determined not to spend New Years Eve alone and to accomplish that goal,he could not be seen walking into the Black Orchid alone and the only "acceptable" partner to accomplish that goal was me. Asking me to go with him was not an easy task for him. I was not the most ideal person for him to bring,but I guess he felt bringing me was better than bringing anyone White,Eskimo,Tlingit Indian,or Japanese. That's what my social circle looked like on campus.
It also created another set of problems for him. 1.My clothes did not fit the dress code 2. My hair,while being in an Afro was more like the Jimi Hendrix wild style. Once I agreed to go with him,Floyd took matters into his own hands to rectify the problem. In the early 70's Anchorage Alaska's black population was miniscule and the only black barbers were on the base. Floyd had a pass to Elmendorf and he used it to bring me to one of the black barbers. By being on base,Floyd was able to knock out two birds with one stone as in the military commissary there were outfits deemed "acceptable" to wear to the Black Orchid. Floyd covered the cost of the hair trim and shape as well as the jumpsuit. I now was transformed into this Earth,Wind,and Fire like image. We were now ready to appear at the Black Orchid.

Unlike at The Pines,where men and women were as likely to walk in alone as with a group,it was clear that no one went to the Black Orchid alone. It was either couples or groups.After scouting the bar,Floyd discovered a table with 2 women and 2 empty chairs. That is where we sat. We were barely seated when the DJ played a particular song. The three of them immediately hit the dance floor. I sat at the table and ordered a beer when the waitress came to my table. Floyd was dancing with his newly found friend and her friend wasnt on the dance floor alone for too long before she had a partner. When the series of songs had ended,the man dancing with her started to return to our table but turned around when he saw me sitting there.
I must have broken some sort of protocal because when Floyd and friends returned from dancing,I guess I was supposed to let Floyd order a round for everyone first. He scowled and I could just hear him mumbling "the only reason.." under his breath again,but he couldn't say it out loud. He had a woman to impress and I was to be his foil.
I quietly listened as the three of them engaged in small talk,then the music started again.Once again the three of them jumped onto the dance floor. I remained at the table, finishing the beer I had ordered and enjoying the second one that Floyd had bought. I found wearing the jumpsuit a little out of my comfort zone,but in my own way,I was enjoying observing the Floyd he would tell me stories about when he lived in Chicago. It was too bad others didn't quite see it that way. When they returned from the dance floor,one began to get the sense that my ongoing silence was becoming a problem. My senses were confirmed when Floyd's new found friend with her friend sitting next to me asked me a question.
                         "What are into?"
For a moment I found my element.Just recently through one of my friends,I had discovered the writings of Jean-Paul Sartre and found myself fascinated with his Existential Philosophy. At the time I had also been digging the writings of Hermann Hesse,and don't get me started on Thoreau!
In sharing all this at with Floyd and guest at the table,I am also sharing the enthusiam I'm receiving in reading the Sartre play NO EXIT.
I was soon seeing my exit from the Black Orchid for after completing my explainations and just before the music was to start again,Floyd grabbed me and pulled me away from the table. He then slipped me a $20 bill,had the bartender call a cab for me.
Floyd "GO! I cant have you here! You'll ruin my game!" "GO!"
For many years after leaving Alaska,Floyd was one of the few AMU students who kept in touch. 20 years ago,I stayed with him while attending the Chicago Blues Festival. I was living in Minneapolis then,and after leaving Alaska,Floyd had returned to the South Side of Chicago. He greeted me coming off the Greyhound Bus. He observed my dreadlocks "You crazy nigger Still! I know you're smoking reefer!" He did find it fascinating and in keeping with my talks on Rastafari.
One night we were returning to his apartment when 2 men came running towards us.As they approached us and passed us,we heard them saying "Respect to the Rasta.Rastafari." Seconds later we heard gunshots.Floyd then turned to me and said "That Rasta stuff gave us some protection,we were supposed to get shot"
In this day and age of technology and social media,I have attempted to find Floyd again. Before social media came into existence,I tried reaching him through the telephone operator.His previous number had been disconnected.
I hope he's alright.

When John Cipollina Came to Alaska

  John Cipollina, with Copperhead

In the early 70's,there was more than one reason Alaska was called "The Last Frontier". For one,even in the "major cities" of Anchorage and Fairbanks,there was no live television.Shows were shipped up and broadcast on a 2 week delay basis. The Super Bowl would be broadcasted live via satellite,but that's another story for another time...

Alaska was also the Last Frontier for this reason. KENI-AM was a standard 70's AM station that would play album tracks at night. That was the best one could do for music on the radio,and this was clearly a step backwards for someone who had experienced the underground FM radio stations of the day.

 The campus of Alaska Methodist University in Anchorage seemed far removed from the tumult that had impacted so many college campuses during the late '60's and early '70's. The vibe throughout much of the campus was reminiscent of how colleges in the 50's were depicted...The campus choir was popular... there were curfews, the elected student body president was a lover of tradition,and an ally of the college administration ,and though Alaska had lenient marijuana laws, this did not extend to the campus of AMU.Maybe things had skipped over..or hadn't arrived yet.

Some of this was also different for my roommate Ron Buickie. Ron was from upstate New York.I happened to meet Ron on my flight from New York to Alaska. In the days when tobacco smoke was allowed on flights,Ron used the opportunity to smoke something that wasn't tobacco in the bathrooms,and was kind enough to give me a sample of what he was bringing to and smoking in the bathroom. This happened before we discovered we were going to the same college,and before we found out we were assigned as roommates.
It was Ron who got the ball rolling..Ron would still obtain the underground magazines that seemed to flourish then. Ron got the word through one of those newspapers that John Cipollina was taking a hiatus from Quicksilver Messenger Service,was working with a new band called Copperhead and they were looking for gigs..The address to write them was on the ad. Ron then tossed the ball into my hands.

It must be said at this point that between the time Ron and I had met on the flight to Alaska to this moment when the ball was being tossed my way,that I had gotten myself elected to the Student Assembly at AMU. I got elected in large part due to the "marijuana code language" employed in my campaign statement for the student newspaper. My election did not sit well with the student body president,and he told me as much.

When Ron said "Let's bring John Cipollina to Alaska",he knew that once I had gotten elected to the Student Assembly,I managed to my way onto the Student Activities Committee. Though I was thrilled to be on the committee,I was also aware I was placed there by the student body president.I was also charged with coming up with an event to raise money for the Student Activity fund..My understanding was the last few events had failed to raise money,and the student body president  wished to see if I could use the "marketing skills I used to get elected" as he put it to use.
When we sent the request to the address listed in the ad,I thought that might be the last we'd hear of it.

I imagined John Cipollina and his manager laughing soon as they saw the "Methodist" in the Alaska Methodist University stationary we sent the inquiry on.What I didn't imagine was getting a return letter within two weeks with instructions to be near a phone on such and such a date at this time Alaska time. In the return letter the manager had accounted for the approximate time the letter would take before it would arrive in Anchorage,and knew about the 1 hour time difference between Pacific and Alaska time.
Shortly after that phone call,I got the Student Assembly to approve an "investment"to bring a "really good rock band"to play in the Student Union Building.The student body president felt the cost of investment was too high for a band he had never heard of,but was unable to persuade the rest of the assembly. Once the "investment' was secured,I then turned to my roommate to finalize the deal to bring John Cipollina to Anchorage.
KENI-AM stated their willingness to assist the University students raise money by running free PSA's about the upcoming event..and because the station didn't have any Quicksilver albums,Ron and I knew the nights they played Quicksilver Messenger Service and Happy Trails, (one night they played the entire second side of Happy Trails),that those were OUR albums being beamed throughout that Last Frontier!
The "stage" in the Student Union building was barely large enough for the drummer..Cipollina said he had no problem working with it. The Student Union building also didn't have any real type of dressing room. Cipollina,also said as he rolled joint after joint,lighting them then passing them on,that he had no problem that his "dressing room" had to be the janitor's room.I was happy,He seemed happy,Ron was happy and that janitor's room was hazy by the time Copperhead hit the stage!

The Student Union building was packed..students and non-students alike. Copperhead played some original tunes,and some Quicksilver favorites,and John Cipollina showed his appreciation by not only delivering some of the finest guitar licks this side of San Francisco ,but also between many of his guitar solos would toss joints into the audience as well as light one and pass it on.
I was told later by the college President (Yes,I got called into his office after the Cipollina show) that I could never do something like that again. I said ok,but had to remind him that we doubled the "investment "and made money for the Student Union. I knew from that moment on, that at a small liberal arts college of 400 students,I was going to be watched like I had never been watched before. I also knew I was happy and a lot of folks,students and non students went away happy.Ron was happy. His copy of Happy Trails was played on KENI-AM,and he got to roll joints with John Cipollina.
John Cipollina went away happy too..There was no way the "investment" was going to cover the cost of bringing a band to Alaska. In the 70's cost kept many bands from playing in Alaska..but Alaska was the Last Frontier,and that was almost enough to bring John Cipollina to Alaska. What was enough to bring him to a small liberal arts college run by the Methodist Church was Matanuska.

Matanuska Valley Thunder F@*k..a..for you who don't know, Matanuska Valley Thunder F@*k is one of the most powerful strains of marijuana grown in North America. The nearly 24 hour sunlight in the summer would do wonders for the strain,and for a pound of Matanuska Valley Thunder F@*k,John Cipollina was willing to bring Copperhead to Alaska.
A few years ago,I returned to Alaska to perform my one man play Kolorada...a western tale. Alaska Methodist University is now Alaska Pacific University. While in Anchorage I had to stop by,and it brought tears to my eyes to see that the makeshift stage that once had John Cipollina on it was still there..

Musings on Opportunity..

Alaska Methodist University was a small liberal arts college in Anchorage Alaska. It's now known  as Alaska Pacific University. I attended Alaska Methodist University in the 1970's.  At the time I was enrolled at AMU,there were approximately 400 students attending. Now for some folks reading this,400 students may seem rather minuscule,and maybe it was,but for me,a high school graduate from a school of little over 100 students,this was stepping up to the big time!

Attending AMU was very much like living in a small town in the sense that at the very least,you knew of most all the students,and professors,and professors knew who the students were as well.

Frank Brink was widely known as the father of theater in Alaska. He established not only the drama program at AMU,but the Anchorage Little Theater,and was known for persuading folks like Boris Karloff,and Will Rogers Jr. to come to Alaska and perform for little or no money with local casts.This is during an era when Alaska seemed particularly remote to the rest of the country. What first struck me when I met Frank Brink was,unlike others who wanted to be addressed as "Dr. Konigsberg" or "Professor Latham,he was addressed by and simply known as "Frank".

I didn't take any drama classes under Frank,but I'd often see him in the lunchroom located in the student union building. I found out later he'd see me too.

I had never experienced previously what I experienced socially at AMU. In elementary school,I was the shy kid who often times had to worry about getting beat up. In high school,while I had a few close friends,I was nowhere close to being a popular kid.
I was too shy to date in high school.
At AMU,I was one of ten blacks enrolled in the college,and one of two living on campus. For many Alaskan students,I was the first flesh and blood black person they had ever encountered,but in addition,I was from the East Coast,and had seen and experienced things (like rock concerts) that many,due to the isolation of Alaska had only dreamed of. With all this going on, I wasn't going to be able to quietly hide in a corner. In the dorm and outside the classroom,this quiet,shy student was sought after,and I'd often hold court with fellow students in the student union building lunchroom.

It was because of those holding court sessions in the lunchroom where Frank Brink got it in his mind that I might be able to act. He had written this play he told me,"Song of the Great Land"- a piece based on Alaskan History,and there was a character in the play,that he said,had me written all over it. Before giving me a chance to say no on the spot,Frank handed me a script.
The problems as I saw it was not in the ability to learn the lines.I'd always been blessed with a strong memory,and in reading the script,I was certain I could learn and play the role.
As I saw it,Problem #1 was: Rose Atwater. Rose Atwater,an Athabascan Indian woman with hair almost to her ankles was easily one of the most beautiful women on campus.In Frank's script,all my scenes were to be opposite her.
Problem # 2 was: according to the script,I was supposed to kiss her. Why is this a problem?
Problem #3: I had not dated and had never kissed anyone.
I'm certain I was not the only one on campus that shared my opinion on Rose,and I'm certain I wasn't the only one who entertained thoughts on what it would be like to kiss Rose,but the way I saw it,if I was to kiss her,it was going to be without an audience.

The kiss,according to the script was supposed to be a fairly passionate kiss. I first tried to get him to cut the scene altogether,and when he refused that,I tried to get him to compromise on the passion. He wouldn't budge...said something to the effect that the kiss and passion were integral to the script.
Frank wouldn't budge and neither would I,and 3 days before rehearsals were to begin in earnest,I dropped out of the play.




 Frank Brink's play,Song of the Great Land won an award,and because of that for a couple months,it became a touring production. It even toured on the East Coast.

In the almost 40 years since Song of the Great Land made its tour,there have been times I've wondered how life may have been different if I had chosen to make my first kiss a public affair. I mean I eventually ended up on the theater stage afterall..I just would have started earlier. In more than one of my own productions,I've smoked marijuana onstage which I think in most places carries more risks than a kiss..even the most passionate one.

Thing is: The lesson learned from that experience has proven to be over time far more valuable,in fact I doubt the theater experiences that came later in life would have happened outside of that experience.
I let a major opportunity slip through my fingers,and I knew it when I saw Song of the Great Land performed in Anchorage. The memories of the sick to my stomach feeling I felt then and desire not to feel that way again,serve as motivation when faced with opportunity.








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