Gregor Endorses Vermin Supreme for Emperor

Vermin Supreme Loses NH

Our country is seriously divided. Gregor understands this because he has been tormented by division ever since his lobotomy. However, Gregor has found a solution that may work for the entire country – make Vermin Supreme our Emperor and all will be well once again.

Who is Vermin Supreme? Gregor knows, and he wants you to meet the man who could save us all.

Vermin Love Supreme cuts a colorful and unifying swath across all political circles. He has run for many elective offices. Sadly, he also has a long history of near misses. Supreme first became a central figure in 1988, when he ran for Mayor of Baltimore. That same year, he also ran for Mayor of Detroit and Mayor of Mercury, Nevada. Although always a potent contender, Supreme was unable to eek out a win from his many vigorous, precisely constructed campaigns. Gregor believes that the candidate may have spread himself too thin.

Pundits have noted that these failures may have something to do with Supreme’s presentation. Gregor disagrees. Supreme always appears in public with a boot on his head. His frequently repeated campaign theme, Ride Our Ponies Into The Future, was said to sometimes confuse and confound potential voters. There was also the omnipresent oversize toothbrush carried by the candidate at each campaign event. Some observers found these slogans enigmatic. Gregor got the point and believes that the vast majority of Americans would see these tactics for what they really are – important pointers to a future political landscape.

Vermin Supreme

Undeterred, Supreme continued his campaigning. In 2000, he achieved one of his lifelong goals of political power by declaring himself Emperor of the New Millennium. This was the seminal moment that pushed Supreme into the minds of all future voters. It also marked the moment Gregor officially joined forces with Supreme.

In 2004, Supreme campaigned in the DC Presidential Primary, collecting 149 votes. For the next few years, he was reluctantly dragged away from campaigning by the heavy responsibilities of Emperorship. This was a dark time for America but Supreme kept on task. He waited for the next moment, sure to come.

In 2008, Supreme surfaced to campaign in the New Hampshire Republican primary, where he received 41 votes. Sadly, he was outdone by political dirty tricks, although the candidate made no public complaint for the good of the electorate. Gregor knew the inside story but was guided by Supreme’s insistence on taking the high road.

Vermin Supreme getting his message out

Finally, in 2011, Supreme made his big move when he ran on the Democratic ticket for the 2012 Presidential campaign. He dominated an important political debate at the IGLO Dissidents’ Convention in April 2011. Between May 2011 and October 2012, Supreme appeared at several debates, countless personal events, and formally announced his new political organization, the Free Pony Party.

Although Supreme eventually lost the election, no one is sure of the actual outcome. The matter may someday be decided by the Supreme Court, as has occurred previously. No one is certain. Voting tallies were never made public and many Supreme supporters remain skeptical about the election process itself. Gregor was devastated, especially when our new President made no mention of the powerful Vermin Supreme campaign machine. Fortunately, both Supreme and his Free Pony Party not only survived the campaign but have continued to make an indelible mark on U.S. politics.

Vermin Supreme’s 2012 Presidential campaign website has been granted innumerable awards and is widely recognized for its informative and in-depth analysis of key political issues. It is a living legacy for what can be accomplished when Americans pull together. It is also Gregor’s favorite Internet stopover.

Along with countless other Americans, Gregor believes that the presence of Vermin Love Supreme on the political scene can be the single most healing factor in reuniting the divides in our country. He asks that you take whatever steps you deem appropriate and necessary to ensure the future Emperorship of Vermin Love Supreme.

Gregor lives here.

This informational message was brought to you by the Gregor Lobotomy Front on behalf of Vermin Love Supreme for Emperor.

Advertisements

Griffin, The Man Who Rocked My World

It wasn’t the first book I read but it was the one that ignited my passion to write, a passion that lasted a lifetime. The book was Black Like Me, written by John Howard Griffin.

The book was first published in 1961, by Houghton Mifflin, and I read it the same year. I was 15 and going into my first year of High School. This was an impressionable age and a time in America when everything was about to change. A new generation was beginning to look at who we were as a society, and they weren’t comfortable with what they discovered. Griffin’s personal journey in writing his book was a poignant and timely reminder that we all needed to reconsider what was important in our lives. I caught that fever immediately, thanks to the words of a man I would never meet.

At the time, Griffin was not considered an especially important writer. His work was known to some but he was not a household name in literary circles. Griffin was about to take the art of investigative journalism into the mainstream with his passion for fairness and equality. He would take the rest of us along for the ride and give us a legacy that proved to be unforgettable.

Griffin’s book was a nonfiction, intimate journey that captivated American readers. The fundamentals of the story first came to light as an article in Sepia magazine, who helped fund the writing project. When it appeared in print, Griffin’s experiences instantly drew readers from across the country. The story demanded a full treatment in book form, and what a powerful book it became!

“He who is less than just is less than man.” ―...

The story line dealt with race relations from the most personal aspect imaginable. For those who haven’t read Black Like Me, I won’t throw in any spoilers. I’ll just tell you that it presents the experiences of a white man who went through extraordinary measures to penetrate racism in America by pretending to be a black man. The narrative deals with his travels and personal encounters in the deep South. Through them, Griffin exposes the pain of a segregated, prejudiced America that was so prevalent at the time. He also tells us about a handful of wonderful, incredibly generous individuals he met along the way. The book reaches highs and lows worthy of the powerful point Griffin was trying to make.

It was not just the story line that moved me, powerful as it was. It was the sacrifices of the writer, his determination to get to the bottom of the story, that rocked my young world. All other books seemed tame after reading Griffin. Here was a writer who lived his work, who had a boundless commitment to the story he was chasing. Griffin put no limits on himself to learn what it was like to be black and live in the U.S. in the late 1950s. No one had ever put this kind of experience into written form in quite the same way. It opened my eyes to cruelty and indifference, but also to the willingness of some to extend their hands to the downtrodden and ignored. It showed me both the best and worst in our society. The mosaic it offered was compelling, penetrating and wholly personal. This was the kind of writer I wanted to be, someday.

Griffin made me love the importance of nonfiction when done the right way. Before Black Like Me, I wasn’t especially interested in nonfiction. Now, I understood just how a great writer could move me with something real and tangible. There was nothing dry in Griffin’s writing, nothing impersonal or academic. It was raw and real. It was all painfully true. It was groundbreaking.

There were other writers who strongly influenced me at that young age. Some specialized in fiction, some nonfiction. They all played their part in moving me further into reading and writing. But it was Griffin who started it all with Black Like Me. Even today, the relevance of his work remains strong. That’s surely the mark of a literary classic.

John Howard Griffin, the man I never met, will always be one of my heroes.

TV News Swamp Gas

Walter Cronkite     1916-2009

Do you remember this guy? His name was Walter Cronkite (1916-2009). In his heyday, Cronkite was known as “the most trusted man in America.” He was given that accolade by us, the American people. Cronkite was the anchor for the CBS Evening News for 19 years, and he was our most valued news source.

He was also the last honest broadcast news journalist.

Cronkite was a nightly guest in our homes throughout the 1960s and 1970s. These were tough, controversial and often ugly decades in our history. It was a time of war, racism, riots and a divided nation on nearly every important topic of the day. Yet, Cronkite managed to become the most trusted man in America for a simple but powerful reason. He did not have an agenda.

When Cronkite delivered his unique style of journalism, it was straightforward, penetrating, accurate and unbiased. He gave it to us without political nuance or personal preference. Yet, he often delivered it with emotion and power. He was the guy next door, the guy you knew and could depend upon.

Fast forward to today.

TV news, broadcast journalism, is a hotbed of obvious agenda and swamp gas. CNN, Fox, MSNBC, whatever. It really doesn’t matter which you choose. Today, the news is delivered with a skewed point of view, deliberately managed to appeal to specific audiences. In other words, it’s not journalism at all. It’s theater disguised as journalism. It’s entertainment and little more.

Right wing, left wing, some other wing. It’s easy enough to flip through the TV news channels and electronically infuse your light meal. If you have a favorite perspective, a personal view of the world, there’s a broadcast journalist who will fit your bill nicely. You will be entertained in accordance with your preferences. But will you be accurately informed? Will you ever get the news delivered straight down the middle? Probably not.

A title card still from the April 4, 1968 edit...

Cronkite didn’t care about agendas, parties or prevailing opinions. He cared about delivering the news accurately and with impact. That’s why he was so trusted. It’s why he appealed to Americans across all political parties and points of view. He’s been gone for many years now. With his departure from the news scene, we lost our last link to objective reporting. We somehow slipped out of honest journalism and into the entertainment mode as we changed channels.

America is polarized across many fronts. We all know that. We only have to look at DC to understand how much we’ve lost in terms of honesty and reliability. Sadly, we’ve also lost our link to real journalism, the kind of delivery that was reliable, unbiased and meaningful. We lost the truth behind the news.

Perhaps we’ll be lucky enough to find a trusted broadcast journalist in the future. From today’s point of view, the scene is bleak. No one seems willing or capable of stepping into Cronkite’s shoes and bringing us back to the days when a broadcast journalist was someone who could be trusted, someone who we would be happy to invite into our homes every evening.

Sure, there are other Countries who make good attempts at true broadcast journalism. With the Internet we can get the news from anywhere, anytime. But we were once the leader and we gave it all up. We need true American broadcast journalism once again. Why can’t we go back to doing it right? There’s plenty of room for honest journalism and entertainment to live together peacefully.

It all comes down to who will step up, pay for it, and make it happen.

In the meantime, give a thought to Walter Cronkite from time to time. He was one of a kind. I miss him.

Gregor Spanks Geezers, Just a Little

GregorGregor has been handing out a lot of spankings lately. He thinks there is something in his well water that makes this happen.

Today, he wants to spank geezers, just a little.

Gregor is a geezer, so he knows the wayness of old. He cannot be deceived by studies, rumors, or philosophical debates when it comes to geezerness. Gregor has experience and he will not be silenced by conventional wisdom.

There are some aspects of geezerness that are good, some not so good. Gregor understands the yin-yang dwaddle of all things. So, he’ll try to stay balanced.

Whining. Gregor does not like whiners of any variety, at any age, under any circumstances. He also believes that geezer whining is the worst. It should be made illegal. Geezer whiners should be taxed, heavily. Now, Gregor understands that geezers may have cause to whine, at least in their own minds. Lots of geezers have aches, pains, bumps, grinds and lousy bowel movements. So, what? Since it’s the nature of geezerness to have these issues, why tell everyone in the world about it? Everyone already knows about these things. Gregor suggests that his fellow geezers lighten-up and quit stating the obvious. No one appreciates a bore. No one wants to read the same chapter over and over again.

GeezerStay slow. Rushing around is for the young. Gregor used to keep the pedal to the metal, every day in every way. But he’s gotten wiser over the years. There’s a deep beauty to slowness, to proper pacing. It’s like Tai Chi. Better to do it slowly than the alternative. Gregor believes that the destination is in the journey. He likes to look out the window, wonder at the passing scenery. So, why all the rushing around? Makes no sense to Gregor. Keep it easy, friend geezer.

Don’t be cheap. Gregor’s not talking about money, he’s talking about sharing yourself. If you have something to share, why not just put it out there? If you live long enough to see something important, say so. Don’t be cheap with all the stuff you’ve collected over the years. Gregor wants you to share, carefully. He shares, carefully. Sometimes, geezers have something to say that’s not whining. When they do, it sometimes makes sense. It’s good to offer wisdom to others, so long as they ask for it. Don’t just hang it out there like a dead fish, unannounced. But, when someone asks, give it freely.

Stop acting like Judge Judy. This is the worst of the worst for geezers. Always judging, always interpreting according to ancient, hackney customs and styles. What’s that all about? People are different, thank the gods. Just learn to accept it and stop being threatened by these differences. Geezers should know better. After all, if you’ve been around this long, why not develop some tolerance for differences and diversity? Everything doesn’t have to be in accordance with those ancient, perfect, flawed visions of your younger years. Why not enjoy change, just a little? It won’t kill you. Gregor doesn’t appreciate people who mock his failed lobotomy or judge him by his head wrap. Would you? So, don’t be one of those draggy old geezers.

Make some young friends. You’ve got to have some good cards to play if you want to stay in the game. You don’t want nothing but a vast sea of old geezers from which to draw inspiration. Keep in touch with the younger folk. They usually have much more interesting things to offer, and they typically don’t repeat themselves so much. Instead of focusing on tricky bowel movements and the good old days, why not learn about something a bit more contemporary? Check out the younger generation. They’re the movers and shakers, just like you were a long time ago. Find out what’s happening in the real, bigger world outside your wrinkles.

Boo HooNuke the nostalgia. Gregor hates nostalgia. Now, that doesn’t mean remembering is a bad thing. It’s helpful and sometimes interesting. But, all of this longing, pining away, for the good old days is pure doo-doo. It’s a complete drag for everyone involved. Those days were yesterday, remember? Learn from them. Share the memories if asked. Never bore the universe with verbal tales of past times that wind around the mountain and end up at the same old trail head. It’s just plain dull. It’s nostalgia at its worst. You know what I mean, don’t you old geezer? Are you guilty? Well, stop it!

Humor. Yep, it’s the magic pill of old age. Lose your humor and you begin to shrivel like last month’s mushroom. You need to laugh, every day. Find a way to make that happen and then spread it around. It’s your job to find the fun in life and share it. If you can’t uncover a good laugh, blow your nose, take your enema, and try a little harder. Of all the supplements you could take, humor is the most powerful, the most long-lasting. Gregor likes to laugh. Don’t you? No? You better get with the program, stuffy geezer. You need to laugh to get on the train to somewhere.

Don’t be a know-it-all. Since everyone you meet already understands that you don’t know it all, why try to convince them that you do? Silly old geezer. Relax and learn. Listening is an art, so give it a try.

Get techie. Gregor understands that tech stuff is difficult for geezers. He struggles with it all the time. But technology is here to stay, and it’s wonderful. Dip your toe into the pool and learn to swim around with others. It’s powerful, empowering, and it’s very “today.” Techies know stuff, very interesting stuff. You still want to learn, don’t you? You don’t know it all, right? So, get techie and see what you can pick up along the way. Have some fun. Make some friends. Get groovy for a change.

Comrade Barking OrdersKick fear in the ass. Remember when you were young? Remember that feeling of invulnerability? Well, that’s yesterday, so quit worrying about it. There’s nothing more to fear today unless you keep searching for it under every rock and shadow. Shed the worry skin and take a good, long look at all the potential fun and interesting things around you. How about those fascinating people that cruise through your life? Aren’t they more meaningful than fretting about whether your thyroid will blow up if you eat too many clams? Perspective is a good thing. Balance is even better. Keep to the middle and spank those frivolous fears. They’re nothing more than the ghosts of an uninvolved, starving mind. Step out and stretch a little.

Live large. Gregor knows that geezerness is a winding road. But it’s also a chance to reach out, to try something new and fun. You may be riding a mule rather than a quarter horse, but it’s still a good ride. Take it to a new direction, to a place you’ve never been, toward that dream you filed away so many years ago. Live large, every day. You’ll be a much happier geezer if you get involved and live it up.

Gregor lives here.

Gregor’s Home Town Goes Big Time

Gregor lives near here

Gregor lives near here

Gregor is shy, most of the time. His keepers don’t let him roam around too much. They would be very upset if Gregor went missing, given the perils of his lobotomy.

But Gregor does like to party from time to time.

Each year, during the second weekend in July, Gregor is allowed to attended a massive event in his home town. Normally, it’s a quiet place, nestled in the woods. But once a year, the town struts its stuff for the world. That’s when Gregor can be seen in public. It’s the only time.

ParkThis is where Gregor can be found over that special weekend. It’s just him and about 20,000 of his closest friends.The event is held at the town community park.

The rest of the year, it’s impossible to find more than 20 folk roaming the street. There are no sidewalks, so street-roaming is common. Gregor believes it’s an idyllic place to live and not be harassed about his lobotomy. He has many friends.

What Gregor likes best about this park is that it’s completely community-owned and volunteer operated. That’s right. No taxes, no bureaucrats, no fuss, no muss. Just Gregor’s friends out there putting on a big party and taking care of the park. Gregor doesn’t like bureaucrats but he certainly loves this park.

There’s all sorts of interesting stuff going on at the July celebration. Gregor wants to tell you a little more.

Log RollingLogging is a tradition in Gregor’s home town. It used to be big business, back in the day. The traditions still live on with competitors from the local area and folks from far away.

There are many logging events, lots of excitement. Gregor has been known to swoon at some of them.

Gregor is especially fond of log rolling. If you look closely, you’ll see Gregor among the crowd in the background. He’s the guy with the white head wrap. Can you see him? Look very closely. He’s there.

Lawn Mower RacingHere’s a picture of another of Gregor’s favorite events. It’s lawn mower racing.

This is fast-paced, competitive and action-packed fun for everyone. These mowers are not your Mama’s mowers. They have been specially designed, tweaked, and made very fast. If you look closely, you’ll see Gregor’s head wrap sticking out of the helmet.

Do you see him? He’s there.

ParadeThere’s also a great parade through town. All the locals come to party. Folks from all over the area line the street. The parade is open to all. Since there’s only one street, no one ever gets lost.

Old cars, new cars, fire trucks, log trucks, bikes, motorcycles, tractors, and even horses all line up and romp through town. It’s a big, big show. Gregor is always at the parade.

Look closely behind the old-time car. Can you see him?

MusicThere’s lots of music. All kinds. Rock, folk, bluegrass. Players, singers and strummers from everywhere entertain the party-goers throughout the weekend. Gregor likes the music, very much. It makes him want to throw off his head wrap and dance, dance, dance.

You can’t see Gregor in this photograph. But he was there. He’s sitting in the very front row, tapping his feet.

Best of all, there’s food everywhere. All kinds of food. Real country food. Gregor likes it all. He moves from place to place, eating and drinking, meeting his friends and making new friends. Gregor always fattens-up on that weekend.

Gregor has a great time on those warm July days. If you should be in the neighborhood, Gregor hopes you would stop by and say hello. He would be pleased to show you around the park. He thinks you would love his little town, especially when it throws such a big party.

Otherwise, you’ll have to wait another year to meet Gregor and examine his head-wrap for yourself.

Here’s a hint.

Gregor lives here when he’s not at the park.

Beat Generation Rollover of 1965

Caffee Trieste BackIt’s one of the lesser cosmic mysteries but still an interesting one. When did the San Francisco Beat Generation disappear?

Beat G was going strong in 1963. That was self-evident. By 1967, the hippie counterculture movement was everywhere in the City and the Beats were gone.

So, when did this rollover really happen?

It wasn’t a light-switch deal. But it also wasn’t a slow morphing. The change was farily swift by usual social standards, and the Beats were forever scattered, absorbed, whatever. Many of us geezers who are still around like to think of 1965 as the year the world changed.

In fact, we can even pinpoint the month and the day. It was Friday, December 3, 1965. The event was Bob Dylan’s San Francisco press conference at the KQED studio just prior to his five concert tour of the Bay Area.

Well, maybe this is a bit too precise for anal-retentive historians. But many of my fellow geezers will tell you that Dylan’s press conference was an hour of transition that stood squarely between Beat G and hippie counterculture. The seasoned Beats sometimes look at that event with swampy eyes. Beat G was morphing very fast, even before Dylan’s arrival in the City. After his press conference, Beat G seemed to vanish, forever.

KQED Studio

KQED was the City’s educational channel. It started broadcasting in 1954 from an old truck warehouse on 4th Street. The station was a completely volunteer effort, down to the second-hand furnishings. It also grew up with the Beat Generation and was an early, progressive voice for the arts of the time. If you were City Beat G, you knew and loved KQED because it gave you a voice and a vision. By 1965, the station was well established in the City, although it still struggled financially. It had become locally legendary for innovation in broadcasting and spoke to the artsy side of life in San Francisco.

Dylan was the musical voice of Beat G prior to his City press conference. But he also had a keen eye toward a future counterculture. His words were clear enough to those who would listen carefully. It was all about change, the same message that Beat G loved to hear and express. But it was just a little askew. Dylan’s album, Highway 61 Revisited, had a massive impact on Beat G as well as the new, still-forming counterculture movement. He spoke both languages and was constantly re-defining himself quicker than the rest of us could keep up. It was his December 1965 press conference that laid it all out most clearly, in plain English and in the City.

Dylan Press Conference

Looking at Dylan during the press conference paints the picture of Beat G, but just a tiny bit twisted out of shape. His music and words went beyond the aging message. It was clear that he was looking farther than the established limits, signaling something that transcended our localized art message. Dylan seemed to be calling for a more dramatic, universal view of the world that we had never envisioned. He was different, in nearly every way. Yet, for the Beat G folks, his message was also familiar.

Dylan was the essence of enigmatic, even for Beat G. He left us dangling, uncertain, and he seemed to thrive on the process. Was he just pimping the press or was he carving out a new direction? In December 1965, we weren’t sure. Within a year, we were all certain about it. Looking back, it seems obvious.

Check out a few of the press conference exchanges:

Press: Do you think of yourself primarily as a singer or poet?

Dylan: Oh, I think of myself as a song and dance man, ya’know.

Press: Why?

Dylan: Oh, I don’t think we have enough time to really go into that.

What! That was definitely not a traditional Beat G answer. Who was this guy who was not a poet yet wrote great poetry, was a lousy singer but created unforgettable music, and set himself up as a “song and dance man?” He was claiming a path that none of us expected, none of us could quite figure out.

Press: What poets do you dig?

Dylan Press Conference GleasonDylan: Rimbaud, I guess; W. C. Fields; The family, you know, the trapeze family in the circus; Smokey Robinson; Allen Ginsberg; Charlie Rich – he’s a good poet.

Wow! If you were Beat G, this came right out of left field. Who among us would have considered Smokey Robinsion and Allen Ginsberg in the same sentence? We were obviously hearing something very new here. We never gave much thought to the trapeze family, nor to W. C. Fields. In fact, we shunned the circus as much too square to be of consequence. W. C. Fields would never have been considered cool. That was pure heresy.

Press: If you were going to sell out to a commercial interest, which one would you choose?

Dylan: Ladies garments.

Press: Mr. Dylan, I know you dislike labels and probably rightfully so, but for those of us well over thirty, could you label yourself and perhaps tell us what your role is?

Dylan: Well, I’d sort of label myself as “well under thirty.” And my role is to just, ya’know, to just stay here as long as I can.

Dylan Press Conference PaperPress: Do you consider yourself a politician?

Dylan: Do I consider myself a politician? Oh, I guess so. I have my own party though.

Press: Does it have a name?

Dylan: No. There’s no presidents in the party – there’s no presidents, or vice presidents, or secretaries or anything like that, so it makes it kinda hard to get in.

Press: Is there any right wing or left wing in that party?

Dylan: No. It’s more or less in the center – kind of on the Uppity scale.

Uppity? My Lord of Beat! What is this guy trying to say here? Uppity is OK?

Press: Do you think your party could end the war with China?

Dylan: Uh – I don’t know. I don’t know if they would have any people over there that would be in the same kind of party, ya’know? It might be kind of hard to infiltrate. I don’t think my party would ever be approved by the White House or anything like that.

Press: Is there anyone else in your party?

Dylan: No. Most of us don’t even know each other, ya’know. It’s hard to tell who’s in it and who’s not in it.

Press: Would you recognize them if you see them?

Dylan: Oh, you can recognize the people when you see them.

Where is this guy heading? He’s a party of one! That’s about as anti-Beat G as you can get and still be a credible artist. Unheard of! So, the message is clear – art is about the individual, not the collective. Politics for one is good. Commercialsm has its place. Who needs Beat G anymore?

Press: Mr. Dylan, when would you know that it was time to get out of the music field into another field?

Dylan: When I get very dragged.

Press: When you stop making money?

Bob Dylan performing at St. Lawrence Universit...

Dylan: No. When my teeth get better – or God, when something makes a drastic – uh – when I start to itch, ya’know? When something just goes to a terrifying turn and I know it’s got nothing to do with anything and I know it’s time to leave.

OK, that’s the bottom line. There it is. You go your own way, on your own time, on your own dime. That’s a different message, for sure. No Beat G here, boss. It’s a world of one. Where have we been lurking all these years? Individualism was the word from this poet, and he had a loud voice.

By the time of this press conference, Dylan was already a prominent figure. He had influence, followers, Beat G’ers who gave him love. But he also embodied something that Beat G missed – unabashed, unashamed individuality. Dylan was going to go his own way, regardless. He was breaking new ground with each song, each appearance, each of his enigmatic one-liners. It was a zig-zag road trip, nothing familiar or comfortable. This was fresh stuff.

When Dylan spoke, it was with his own, unique voice. Willingly or not, he pointed out the fatal flaw with Beat G. We spoke mostly to ourselves, to our art, and not to the bigger world. For Dylan, it was all about finding his unique path and having no fear of playing it out in public throuh his art. He had walked away from the beloved folk music to folk-rock (although he denied it) and had a vision that could not be shared, or even understood at times.

By December 1965, it was clear enough that Beat G needed to move on, somehow. We each had to find our own path and could no longer live within the comfort of a small enclave, no matter how talented or ground-breaking its members.

Like Dylan, we had to change our game. There were no other options. Dylan finally broke our collective backs, probably without any awareness of the meaning. We had to be ourselves to be real, just like him.

Looking back, he did us a big favor. His legacy and his word-lessons were good.

You can read the entire Dylan press conference here, thanks to Rolling Stone. Thanks to Kripes ProBoards for the Dylan press conference images. Thanks to KQED for all they’ve done over the years, and for having the insight to bring Dylan to San Francisco.

A few other articles on San Francisco Beat G:

Soppy Writer Nostalgia and City Lights Books

The 1963 Novelist

Cool Beat G in 1963

Gregor Takes Revenge on Fed Drones

UFO ??

Gregor was sitting drowsily on his porch when this unidentified gizmo zipped noiselessly overhead. Ya-coozer! Invasion!

Gregor instantly knew it was a Fed drone, spying on him for no reason at all. He keeps up with current events and understands that Fed drones are the next big thing. He worried about this possibility for some time, so Gregor wasn’t too surprised. Now, it was here!

Gregor will not tolerate drones in his backyard, period. He believes there is some Amendment that should protect him from Fed drones. He did not take this incident lightly. He believes it’s just un-American to go flying these brutes all over our common airspace. He wants the Feds out of his life, now and forever.

Gregor made several telephone calls. He is not shy when it comes to protecting his privacy. But none of this mattered to the Feds. They just denied all knowledge of drones, spying, and Gregor himself. It was right out of the X-Files. Gregor is not Mulder. He’s not Scully. He can’t penetrate the inner workings of the Feds, at any level. He needed help, some powerful friends.

So Gregor decided to pull out the big guns.

Buford

Gregor did the very best thing that came to mind. He got his love child and spokesman to take on the Feds. Here’s a picture. Imposing, isn’t he? His name is Buford. That should tell you everything you need to know. But looks aren’t everything, are they? Buford is a renowned mathematician and field guide who lives in Orlando. His services are always available, for the right price. Of course, Gregor had that special love-child relationship that got Buford’s immediate attention.

Buford got right on the case, just like Mulder and Scully would have done. He was going to get to the bottom of the drone doo-doo, no matter what the Feds said. Denials meant nothing to Buford. No swamp gas would work on this puppy. He had those Feds scrambling for cover, right away.

To Gregor’s endless delight, the Feds paid strict attention to Buford. His loquacity must have been compelling. He also must have had some serious contacts with the Feds. Gregor had never known the Feds to cooperate with anyone, anytime, for anything. What a wollopy-bang pleasure!

Well, there was that rumor of a few Fed helper monkeys who ran afoul of Buford and vanished. Gregor dismissed this as the usual Fed whining and moaning. Someone hushed it all up. Some Fed, probably.

Alien

It wasn’t long before the Feds sent a representative to Gregor’s house to set things right. He was a nice emissary, Gregor thought. The little guy was carrying a letter of apology from a high-ranking Fed Helper Monkey, just to make sure all relations were properly restored. Here’s what the emissary looked like on the day he arrived.

Unfortunately, Buford didn’t see things the same way as the Feds. Despite Gregor’s protestations and pleadings, Buford ate the Fed representative, right there in front of Gregor and his curious neighbors. There was nothing left to salvage. Not a bone remained. He was all gone! Vanished as quick as a drone.

Gregor was embarrassed. Buford was not. He was smiling the whole time, just like Hannibal Lecter.

Well, the story has a happy ending. Gregor has not seen a drone since that day. Not even one. No one made a stink about the missing helper monkeys. Everything became very calm, just like it used to be before the Feds started snooping.

GregorGregor thanks Buford’s insight and tenacity for making this situation go away, hopefully forever. It’s obvious that no one, including the Feds or their drone people, will ever mess with Buford. Gregor is still a bit sad about the eaten emissary, but he’s improving every day.

Gregor will remember to call on his love child again someday, the very next time the Feds come messing around his place.

Buford is salivating.

Gregor lives here.