Even More Kesey Tributes Page
Thanks to everyone who sent stuff in honor of Kesey.
If it's not on the site yet, it soon will be...Rick
From Jim by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Thanks for posting old Kesey's article about 9-11. At a time like this, we
all need someone like him to help us see that there's still hope for a
world somehow above all this madness.
He said there's no place for us in the rows of blue suits and military
uniforms. He's right.
He said that all the professional analysts are telling us to get ready for
a brand new war, something that's going to last forever. He's right.
He said that there's nothing new about any of this. He's right.
He said he can't see how bombing the orphans of Afghanistan will bring any
solution to the problem of some nuts with box cutters taking over an
airliner and destroying ten square blocks of Manhattan. He's right.
He said we've all heard it all before; we've been lied to and disgraced
this way before. He's right.
He told Fahey that the novel as an art form is still there, but it's been
replaced by video and the electronic global village. He's right.
I saw him say that as long as there's a river and Huck and Jim, the
American novel will never die. Shucks, man, there's no trick to
videotaping that.
Let's go fuuuuuuthrrrrrr!
From another Jim by way of IntrepidTrips.com
I met him once at San Jose State. I was a bit star struck with him, having
read the Wolfe's book and some of Ken's books.
He signed my copy of Cuckoo's Nest. It was the version with Jack Nicholson
on the cover, and the Batman movie was still pretty recent.
Even though I was too start struck to open my mouth, Ken took my book and
said something like, "You know, that Jack, he's so macho. He could use a
little make up." Ken took a bright pink marker and gave Jack's eyes and lips
pink outlines. Then, with the same marker, he wrote, "Wait'll they get a
load of me," above his signature.
He was the coolest literary figure I have ever met.
From Rosannah by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Paul Kantner played the Bottom Line in NYC with the Jefferson Starship this
weekend and got the crowd to do a rousing Woohoo! in Kesey's honor (a fan
apparently suggested a moment of silence but Paul insisted Kesey would
prefer a big Woohoo). A person can't go wrong with Roos and Woohoos
guiding him to the other side.....
From Dan by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Thank you to the Kesey and the Pranksters for having had the courage to
pursue the path you followed.
American youth was galvanized by your actions.
I was a "cusper" on the tail end of the boomer generation. To me you guys
were giants! I espoused your vision and dreams and lived by your ideals
despite the bone-chill of the reactionary '70's and '80's.
You were passed a noble torch which you in turn passed on: the spirit of
what I call "folkloric insurgency" i.e.: the struggle of those who value the
good in people, in community and love over those who cynically mistrust
man's very nature and believe in hierarchy, authority and conformity.
God bless the pranksters. Trust me, the dream lives on. It will never
perish. Your time was one of triumph for the cause. It is simply a seed now,
awaiting the rains of spring.
From Steve by way of IntrepidTrips.com
It was a rainy and blustery day today here in Lakewood, WA. I have
been thinking about Ken and the whole thing all day today, and I
couldn't quite put my finger on what I was feeling. It wasn't quite
the blues and it wasn't outright sadness. Maybe melancholy.
As I was smoking a cigarette between my classes at Pierce College I
was reflecting on how my mind, and the way I think will never quite
be the same since I discovered this whole thing that Ken, Leary, The
Dead, Ginsburg, Cassidy and Kerouac, the Pranksters, Wavy Gravy,
Lennon, ......................................anyway. This thing that
happened. Today I am truly free, the world may not be a perfect place
and may never be, but today I am free to treat others with dignity
and respect. Today I am free to love. To love unconditionally.
I would like to express my gratitude to all my brothers and sisters
that have helped me have this. Thanks to you all, the world is a
little bit better place. At least my world is.
Back to that blustery day. I went home and put on "American Beauty"
and realized that it was just "a box of rain falling from a heavy
sky".
Thanks Ken, you will live forever in my heart.
From JB by way of IntrepidTrips.com
I will not waste my condolences, for
Mr. Kesey and his loved ones are a force far too powerful to be pitied.
Whenever I think of the possibilities of the open road, I will think of
Kesey, and Cassady, and Saint Jack.
Take care, but not too much.
From Kurt by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Friends,
I just want to take a minute to say thanks to Ken Kesey, a beautiful being
who just passed to the other side, joining the ancestors in bittersweet
homecoming. His large being touched so many lives in so many ways. . .
Both Ken(s), Kesey and Babbs, were very kind to me and patient with me,
always took time to communicate with me, offering words of encouragement and
helping me through my personal dark night of the soul. I want to share the
last message he sent me on September 18th:
Kurt--
"-- and our little lives are rounded
with a sleep."
--Kesey
Goodnight for now Chief. The next world is all the richer for your presence
but you will be sorely missed in this one.
From Will by way of IntrepidTrips.com
My gratitude to him. Changed my life, our lives, ruined our dull dreams
of a career but saved us completely, gave us a chance to make a soul at
the same time we were having fun. He'll always be the secret President
of America.
God speed to you, Ken.
From Lydia by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Just want to add my condolences to the many you must
be receiving...I remember an autumn evening in your
home in La Honda, while many visitors crowded the
house to enjoy the party and wait for, what we thought
would be, the arrival of The Beatles...I recall
wandering toward the kitchen to see a warm bubble of
golden light...two children playing on the kitchen
floor while a woman prepared a dinner (Thanksgiving?)I
was impressed by the bubble of family life, the heart
of the house, while so many other events were
happening in the shadows inside the house and outside
as well. I was a student at San Jose State and we had
come to many of the Acid Trips and events, for we had
many friends in common. Zonker was a dear friend,
too...Just had to add my voice to the many who are
feeling a great loss at the death of Ken Kesey. He was
a colorful (remember those day-glow shoes)and vigilant
observer of our times, and I must confess a kinship to
the participants and survivors of the sixties...the
list of members grows shorter each year. Take care...
From Meg by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Went home from college in albany, ny this weekend. My
sister woke me up early Sunday morning because CBS
news said there was a story coming up about the Merry
Pranksters that she knew a prankster neophyte like me
would be interested in. After a few minutes of
another story, and me giving her distrustful looks,
the story began with a picture of Kesey and the anchor
saying "remembering a prankster". I looked at my
sister in disbelief...impossible he is immortal. No.
My sister handed me the first tissue. I know how much
this affected me, i can only imagine how much it has
affected those lucky enough to know him. My thoughts
are with you. And I will be there in spirit at the
memorial tomorrow.
From Lorraine by way of IntrepidTrips.com
To The Anti-Hero!
I haven't felt like joining any bandwagons lately, so you can relax. This
will NOT be another column about America's heroes. Heckfire, you can't turn
a page in a newspaper or magazine these days without reading some sort of
fawning ode to the ever-increasing pantheon of 'America's
Heroes'. It seems
that no line of work is safe from being tagged as heroic, as long as they
keep their noses clean and show up for work regularly. Firemen, cops, postal
workers, Marines, ambulance drivers 'they're all getting a ton of ink and
will be briefly immortalized by action figures brought out just in time for
the Christmas Orgy of Consumption. Naw, I'll leave the drooling over heroes
to someone else this week. PLEASE DON'T THINK I'M BEING UGLY.
I'M NOT. These
People are all necessary to daily life and deserve a little something in
their Christmas stocking. They do nasty, messy jobs for us and make our lives
run smoother, some of 'em anyway.
This week, I want to tell you about one of my anti-heroes. Ken Kesey died the
other day. If that name doesn't make your head snap in recognition, I can
understand that. Kesey wrote 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest', for
starters, and maybe one or two of you have read the book, or seen the movie
based on the book. The movie won a trainful of Oscars, including one for
Jack Nicholson in the lead role. The book is even better. Cuckoo's Nest is
one of the twentieth century's best novels, and it's a powerful story of a
man who refused to conform, who simply wouldn't go along, and who had zero
respect for authority. It's about that part of all of us that lives way down
deep inside, beneath all those layers of cultural veneer that make us shy
away from doing something that makes us stand out in a crowd, even if it's
the right thing to do.
Naturally, Randall Patrick McMurphy, the anti-hero of One Flew Over the
Cuckoo's Nest, doesn't make it out alive. But his example of
uncompromising
liberty serves to liberate those around him. It's a highly autobiographical
novel, and in it Kesey exposes his own contrarian soul.
Kesey wrote the thing while he worked in a mental hospital,and while being
used as the subject of military experiments to test the usefulness of LSD as
a truth serum for military purposes. Turns out, Kesey sorta liked LSD (it
was legal then, being administered by the same folks who today wage the
feckless War on Drugs), and he talked some friends of his into buying an old
bus,loading it up with essential gear and driving across the US while
imbibing lots of that failed truth serum. They called themselves the Merry
Pranksters, their bus had a destination sign above the windshield that read
'Further', and their leader was Ken Kesey. Without going into a lot of
sentimental counterculture history that most of you won't remember, I'll
simply tell you that that bus trip opened a lot of young eyes during a summer
of Freedom Marches and escalating war in Viet Nam.
Between the Beat Generation and Haight-Ashbury, there was Ken Kesey. For
politically conscious young people in the mid 1960's, he was a beacon. He
was fearless. And not just for hosting barbecues for the Hells Angels at his
California ranch, he was fearless for how his spirit always drove him
Further, regardless of how prevailing convention felt about his trips. He was
one fantastic writer, to be sure, but the real reason that he was my Great
American Anti-Hero was that he Pointed the Way. That took courage. And I
respect courage.
I have a friend, a burned out old hippie named Nicky Chiffon who comes over
for tea once in a while, and to let my cat sharpen his claws on his wooden
leg. Nicky is a brilliant man, if a little lax about personal hygiene, and
he told me that he had a perfectly sound explanation for the impact Ken Kesey
had on people. 'It's his name,' Nicky said, 'it's like a secret code or
somethin'.' Nicky gets real excited when he talks about old hippie stuff,
and he began sloshing his Earl Gray all over my cat. 'I got this computer
program,' Nicky said, 'an' it like does number analysis on
words. You know,
like the old Jewish Kabalah, every word, every letter has a different
meaning. Anyway, when I plugged Kesey's name into the program, guess what the
computer told me his name really means?'
I kept my voice very calm, trying to mellow Nicky out. 'What did it mean,
Nicky?'
'Well it was Latin when it first come out', he said, and his eyes
got big as
saucers. 'But when I got Father Sarducci to translate for me, he says it
means'. It's really okay to put peas in your ears no matter what your mother
told you'
So amid the hoopla and buzz about who's a hero and what a great country this
is, I'm going to take just a minute to mourn the loss of one of my
anti-heroes. He told us to go Further. He said it doesn't matter what we
put in our ears. He showed us how to be brave when its so much easier to
just be '..like everyone else.
From James Welborn by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Hey Ken what's up?
I heard that you decided to check out
from a hospital in Eugene
in Oregon
where you were born
where you died
hey, the NY Times gave you a pretty good sendoff but
it was on pg. 19
The S.F. paper, on the other hand,
put you on the front page where you belong
you who were so damn good with pages
Actually, there was a photo of you there, too,
taken from your son Zane's website
from the looks of it you can see that the apple
didn't fall too far from the day-glo can
if you catch my drift
You were such a good leader Ken
Not in the model of General Schwarzkopf
or a suitable-for-framing cover of Time magazine
that's for sure
your role was to help people find the better &
more courageous part of themselves and
certainly not to harm anyone else
You did this by being fearless about everything
What was there to be afraid of after all?
I remember reading about you when you visited Tim Leary...
dying... you strolled through the front door of his house
and said none too quietly, "So Tim, I hear you're dying."
Which of course was true, but far too open for anyone else
to have just laid out like that. And hell, when you're not afraid
of death, it's hard to imagine getting all worked up over much
of anything else.
Was this still the big lesson, or part of it, that you learned from
those original Stanford experiments way back in the birth of the 60's?
When you were the guinea pig? I wonder. They called Jerry
(whom I know you will look up if there is a High Hotel where
you're staying) Captain Trips, but I always thought that title
belonged to you. You were the original Merry Prankster, it
was all your scheme, your funding, your idea to have Dean
Moriarty drive. Talk about blurring the line between art,
fiction and reality... there was no more line, it was the Almighty
Goof Train, and of course you stayed on the bus for the rest of
your life.
I did like reading in he Chronicle obit. When the "author"
came to visit you a while back, there was a football game on TV.
He said that during the first half you rooted for one team, and during
the second half, the other. How perfect. It made me smile.
I used to talk with my friend John (down in L.A.) about how you
wrote two insanely great novels, and then just went off on this
wild, theatrical adventure with your friends. It just ain't like that
for most writers, as you know. Most of 'em get so caught up in
thinking of themselves as "serious authors" (once they get published)
they forget how to go out and grab life by the balls. Terry Southern
was another guy who never forgot. Dr. Thompson, too. But really,
how many are left now?
That was something that just came naturally for you. Whether it
was staying a step ahead of the man by hightailing it down to
Mexico, or by throwing the world's very first acid parties, replete
with entertainment by the Grateful Dead and your local Hell's
Angels pals.
Once, way back in my Oneonta days, I read a piece of yours that
was in Rolling Stone. I read it aloud for a "public presentation"
class or some such nonsense. It was about when you took some
LSD and climbed up to the top of one of the pyramids when the
Dead were playing down there in Egypt. It was a nice piece of
writing. Twenty-five years later I can still remember the part
about seeing the "changing faces". Christ, where does the time
go? Back then, everybody was reading Wolfe's book about the
bus trip because we had just come from white, uptight, middle
class suburbia, and we were so damn CURIOIUS to know about
the other worlds that we really hoped existed. It was just that we
hadn't SEEN them yet, and wanted to so desperately. The thing was,
you knew that you had to create YOUR OWN WORLD, especially
when the existing one was/is so homogenized - and the fantastic thing
is that you just went out and did it. Intrepid trips indeed! Holy cow
Ethel, we could use a bit more of that around now, couldn't we?
And then there was this. From a Paris Review interview with you. Just so we knew that yeah, all those kids taking
ecstasy is one thing, but Albert's discovery was something else
entirely: "After I had been at Stanford two years, I was into
LSD. I began to see that the books I thought were the true
accounting books - my grades, how I'd done in other schools,
how I'd performed at jobs, whether I had paid off my car or not -
were not the true books. There were other books that were
being kept, real books. In those real books is the real accounting
of your life. And the mind says "Oh, this is titillating." So you
want to take some more LSD and see what else is there. And soon
I had the experience that anyone who's ever dabbled in psychedelics
has. A big hand grabs you by the back of the neck, and you hear
a voice saying, "So, you want to see the books. Okay, here are
the books." And it pushes your face right down into all the cruelties
and all of your meanness, all the times that you have been
insensitive, intolerant, racist, sexist. It's all there, and you read it.
That's what you're really stuck with. You can't take your nose up
off the books. You hate them. You hate who you are. You hate
the fact that somebody has been keeping track, just as you feared.
You hate it, but you can't move your arms for eight hours. Before
you take any acid again, you start trying to juggle the books. You
start trying to be a little better person. Then you get the surprise.
The next thing that happens is that you're leaning over looking at
the books, and you feel the lack of the hand at the back of your neck.
The thing that was forcing you to look at the books is no longer
there. There's only a big hollow, the great American wild hollow,
that is scarier than hell, scarier than purgatory or Satan. It's the fact
that there isn't any purgatory, there isn't any Satan. And all you've
got is Sartre sitting there with his momma - harsh, bleak, worse than
guilt. And if you've got courage, you go ahead and examine that hollow.
That's the wilderness I've always wanted to explore, and it's connected
to the idea of freedom, but it's a terrifying freedom... you can go into
that hollow and still come out of it and have a positive life."
Whew!
And just to complete the picture, you married your high school
sweetie, and stayed married to her - how wild is that? - and
brought up four kids, and coached wrestling and raised cattle
and taught writing and lived just outside of Eugene for years
and years.
The bus is still stashed up there in the woods somplace -
what's left of it anyhow, and my bet is there are still more than
one or two speakers still hanging from the trees just waiting
for the next excellent event. And of course, just as you would
have wanted it, the events will go on. We'll try to remember the
lessons that you and your friends left behind, the signposts, and
not get all freaked out just because the whole damn country is
in major freak-out mode. We'll just keep going and see where
the path leads. And if we are pure of heart, we just might manage
to have a bit of fun along the way. Onward and upward.
Ever furthur.
From Dan by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Im not sure where this email will end its journey but I hope its
close to the family. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone
involved in changing the world. I wonder if the merry pranksters
understand how many lives they have changed how many 3rd eyes have
been opened. The sacrifices made in the beginning helped to expand
the movement. I've become part of a family that no one can ever take
away--a family of people that believe in the next step of world peace
and harmony getting away from the society as we know it today. I want
to thank everyone involved in changing the the world and making it a
better place to live! The millions of people out there that have been
touched by the movement are going to come together and change things
for the better and for this we all owe the busss trip and the merry
pranksters a very big thank you.
From one family member to another,
peace and love
From Kenn by way of IntrepidTrips.com
There was a column in last week's Sunday newspaper noting the
10th anniversary of Bill Graham's death. I remember going to an
amazing free concert in Golden Gate Park 10 years ago to mark the
occasion; the Dead played and that may have been the last time we saw
them or at least the last time we saw them outdoors. I have the
vague memory that Kesey was also at that memorial concert, along with
Wavy Gravy and other '60's survivors would could still emcee.
The last time I saw Bill Graham in the flesh was about six months
before his death at a Dead concert at Laguna Seca race track outside
of Monterey. As Esther and I passed the gate into the track there
was Bill, dressed in leather pants onto of a big chopper, looking for
all the world like some warlord escaped from a road warrior movie.
The opening acts for the Dead that afternoon was David Linley and Los
Lobos; both opening acts were great.
This September Es and I were once again at the Blues Festival, as
we are every year. The closing act on Sunday was Los Lobos and they
played an awesome set which included a Dead song.
The Dead are gone, their music remains, Kesey is gone but his
work remains and will go through periodic re-evaluation for the rest
of the century. He will never pass completely into obscurity because
of the movies made from his books and it's easy to predict that he
along with Edward Abbey and John Nichols will be lumped together as
late 20th century American West novelists, all three heavily
influenced by the '60's.
The thing that sets Kesey apart from his literary contemporaries
is his personal life. Through his connection with Neal Cassidy and
the Merry Pranksters his life is the bridge between the beats and the
'60's, between bebop and the dead. Will there be any interest in
that aspect of his life in one hundred years? The answer is a
resounding yes. In one hundred years Tom Wolfe's book on the acid
test will still be a very funny and informative book about that
period of time. I think Wolfe's work will hold up very well.
Precisely because so many different threads of late 20th century
American culture weave through Kesey's life he will be the perfect
academic subject.
Don't be broken hearted for Kesey, he's had a good run and now
his life and legend is perfectly positioned to become the subject of
a thousand student's term papers studying the excesses of the times
he lived in. I suggest you think of how humorous Kesey will find this
turn of events and share the laugh with him.
From Caroline by way of IntrepidTrips.com
i send my condolences, for keasey will be missed by all of us whom
he touched. although i never had the pleasure of meeting and talking to him,
he was family to me, just as i feel that we are all one family, but just
imagine the party they are having were ever they all are, just close your
eyes and you can see them, to me i see a bonfire uncle ken is sitting
talking to old friends they have lots to catch up on. if any of you need to
chat feel free what's family for my love to you,
From Eric by way of IntrepidTrips.com
I would like to send very much love to you folks. Perhaps this is
something that I should have always been doing, although in my own
way I always have been. I had this experience once where I had some
Leary and Garcia Kool-aid and I was up in the mountains of the Blue
Ridge all night and at around 4 AM or so the sky was crystal clear
and I was visited by very much love and suddenly a yellow star was
Garcia and a blue star was Kesey and they were lamenting just a
touch at the lack of support for the dream...and I assured them that
we are here to carry this one on...we have the torch and we hold back
the wind and the rain and we let it shine on into the infinite space
that was Kesey pointed out so passionately and was subsequently
filled in by the beautiful folks that were 12 and are now 12,000,000
(or some such figure)...
Anyway, I'm not sure how "real" this
dreamvisionhallucinationthingamagigger was but I do know that we
really hold back the wind and the rain and on the day that he died
and I found out I had a sense of grief that was sharply contrasted by
a sense that Kesey, and all of us, know that the torch burns on with
very much love...
Reality is only pretend turned up high...
From Sammy by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Hello, my name is Sammy and I am originally from L.A. Calif. but have lived
in London for a long time. I'm a Chinese Medicine doctor specialising in Hep
C ,HIV, and addictions, but also do all the other structural and systemic
type treatments as well. Saw Kesey and Ken Babbs a while back at a pub gig
in London with my good friend and an avid fan of the Kens called Mo.
MoDawg, although a Londoner is thoroughly into American popular culture and
is really blown away by the sad news of Kesey's death. Tomorrow we are going
to an art exhibition of Jerry Garcia lithos and in the presence of Wavy
Gravy. I hope that he will have a few words to say about KK, knowing that
they were good buds.
From Findlay by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Hi, my name's Findlay, I'm sixteen, and I'm from Scotland.
Finally, in Ken Kesey, found a nice person who had tried to uphold
the beliefs which i have always stood by: 1) You judge a person by
what's in 'em, not what they look like 2) You do the right thing, no
matter what the hell it costs you.
I have felt shaken and strange ever since I heard the news, my
sympathies go to everyone...
I can't even pretend to understand Ken's life, but I do know that I
will stand by and uphold the message I took from him for as long as i
live.
From Paul and Bill by way of IntrepidTrips.com
As I sit at this keyboard thinking about the effect Ken Kesey had on
my life, I can either blame him or THANK him.I CHOSE to thank HIM. My
life as has all of us who have wandered has had ups and downs. Ken
was the epitome of the freedom and compassion that all of us have
tried to keep in our hearts as we have travelled this," LONG STRANGE
TRIP'. I would hope that as we continue our travels that we try to
continue to honor those who have passed before us and led the way.
So remember to" take your brother and sisters by the hand and help
them understand". MAY the next level bring him as much happiness as
he brought to us on this one.
peace
From Joe by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Friends, Family, Ken, I was so saddened by the news of his/your
passing. My rainy 11-10-01 was spent listening to the Golden Road,
the birthing process, the "Looks Like Rain" with Jerry's mournful
pedal steel riffs, Pig Pen in all his brown gooey earthly glory,
playing my beautiful Taylor Guitar, working up some old favorites and
rehearsing the Worship tunes to be played at Mariner's Church on
Sunday, sharing moments with my sweet 9 year old Crystal Rose,
falling in Love with my wife...again, and then the news, another
tower falling to the terror of bodily invasion. I will miss you Ken.
Thank you for stealing the keys to the rain, sharing, loving and
forgiving as I will going forward from this moment. Love, Joe
More tribute pages 1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
Home
Page URL: http://pranksterweb.org/index.htm
© Copyright 2001, Rick Dodgson
Webmaster: Rick Dodgson
Revised: January/27/2002
