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 Patty by way of IntrepidTrips.com
I was a barefoot 12-year old half-Mexican girl in the middle of the Mojave
desert when I heard of the merry pranksters. At last a tribe where freaks
and geeks and half-breeds were accepted. Moved to S.F. and 20 years later
working with Kantner, Balin and Cassidy, got a chance to meet that charming
down to earth dude. Buddha bless him as I light a candle for Ken tonight.
Back in the Mojave so far out in the desert we haul our water. I'll sit
outside and listen to the range mules fucking in the distance and their
voices will travel as I chuckle and dream of further still. Peace and
health,
From Daytonkidz by way of IntrepidTrips.com
I would like to tell you a story of Ken Kesey that I never forgot. The
reason Ken Kesey is my icon. Everyone saw Jerry, But yours truly. But that's
okay. The time of my senior prom, I did not regret for the world I was in
Cleveland OH, For the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame for the weekend. Would you?
You wouldn't even know because you weren't there. I remember a few dozen
people that I met that weakend and I haven't forgot about that has totally
inspired me thru my life. Yet, give or take randomely I'd seen these people
and they would always remember my f@#king name.
I mean go figure I probibly haven't remembered a name since then, but who
knows? I felt a true kind feeling that never goes away from my storytelling,
me and my bro, who just happens to be sleeping on my couch right now, can
both relate on our feelings. The feeling of love, the feeling of
togethernest, the feeling that nothing else in life did not matter. I mean
somebody's got to relate to me, you f@#king kids were on the the BUS!! I've
been on a bus in my own mindframe but not to set the standards of "be-ing on
the bus." Theres a big difference.
" I went to Cleveland a few years back to see one of my bands-ekoostik
hookah but wasn't prepared for what was about to become. Not to mention I
had a ruff weakend Friday night I saw Hookah and raged. The next day me and
my Ohio kids woke up and hit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Who couldn't
believe Big Brother and The Holding Co. rocking out on stage. Joe Cocker
teasing "Give me an F-." The F@#king Merry Pranksters and Kesey (not to
mention the bus, police escourted around the corner) in jamming, I repeat
Jamming G.L.O.R.I.A. Kesey telling his uplifting stories about his qwest of
life. Everyone else uplifting the crowd, the crowd uplifting everyone else.
A balanced beam waiting to be toppled. Still everyone's chanting
G.L.O.R.I.A. Nobody knows what to think, It's daylight and we're seeing a
show thats, not feeling like it's going to end, Kesey still rambling, rain
still pouring,kids still shining. Nothing else to do but, Smile, Smile,
Smile. And that's what I did.
That night I was prepared for a slow night at Hookah. But, that's probly
because I was running down. I was so tired I was passing out right before
the show. Not to mention the mushies, the dehydrating feeling, the fact I
haven't had a good nights sleep in awhile. Anyway I was passed out, almost,
but pretty close. It's kinda wintertime and everyone's coats were sitting
under the reserve bar next to the front door. Me and this girl were talking
about how we couldn't stand up, we were so exhausted. BLAM in a instant.
Mountain Girl walks in to the bar, I instantly stood up at the the front
doors with my mouth dropping. For some reason I knew from her ora she was
Mountain Girl. Maybe because she walked up to me and gave me a kiss on the
cheek. She says,"How did you kids, know that we were going to show up?" I
looked at her and laughed I said "There isn't anyone here that knows, you
guys were coming." She said,"Do you think the band would mind if we jumped
on stage?" I was like "Hell yeah this band is the biggest bunch of kids
GOOOOO!!!! Mountain Girl waves to the crowd outside, and the merry
pranksters walk right in. Instantly every kid looked over at the front door,
all caos began every kid started feeling it, if you know what I mean. They
all walked straight in backstage, Ekoostik HookaH finished up there song and
introduced Ken Kesey And the merry Pranksters. Yeah they were there busting
straight back into G.L.O.R.I.A. I got the tape, do you? If not go find it.
After that song was finally over, thru several stories, thru out the day. I
have never felt ENERGY, FEELING,LIFE, DESTINY, and the most important
L.O.V.E...mixed up , tangled blatantly painted on anyone's face. Not going
anywhere. I hugged a good friend that I saw all the time. Me and this
person did not let go, my best-friend joined in, random people looked at us
with tears of joy giving in, People here, people there, all expressing
something they couldn't deny. Life, Love, and togetherness. There must have
been about 35 people crowded up to us feeling that same great feeling
everyone felt. All these people hugging each other, not giving the care for
the world, but in the same sense showing so much love you couldn't even
explain how it's being sent. My true definition of be-ing. Feeling love from
total strangers.
Just the other day I was talking about Kesey and the time I met the icon.
Now coincidentally I remember it was about the time he passed away, last
night. But maybe nothings a coincidence you know? I think every thing
happens for a reason, It picks up from where the story left off. I was at
the bar waiting for everyone to leave the man alone for a minute. Me waiting
patiently watching everyone be inspired. When there wasn't anyone around I
walked up to him not knowing what I could say, not knowing much of anything
at the time. I could only express my appreciation by walking up to him and
kissing him on the forehead. Not really knowing what to expect he gave me a
dumb founded look, and walked straight out the bar and jumped in the bus, and
sped away.
That month when the Dead Almanac came out. I got a phone call from my
friend, Diane, she told me about the article, and how I should pick one up.
The article had a picture of my best friend a I with our backpacks on
standing next to the street. The Furthur bus and the pranksters running out
in the street. The caption at the bottom read-"The bus came by...." That
picture matches up with the picture I took a split second beforehand, minus
the backs of our heads. I always show people those pictures from that
weekend, usually to the people that thought the prom was so cool. I try to
explain the feeling to my friends but they should of been there to see for
them selves. To that note I could say the Merry Pranksters put an impact on
my life and inspiration. Ken Kesey should rest in peace. He is dearily
missed to the beat-nik generation and generations to come. Much love to the
friends and family. Keep inspiring and spreading the love and happiness.
From John Allen Cassady
FAREWELL TO THE CHIEF
By John Allen Cassady
"One flew East, one flew West, and one flew over the cuckoo's nest…"
The long, strange trip came to an end for Ken Elton Kesey at 3:45 AM Saturday, November 10th, 2001, after 66 years and a few hundred lifetimes on this planet.
Ken was a great friend to my father, Neal Cassady, and almost a second father to me after Neal died in 1968 when I was 16 years old. Kesey was one of the kindest and wisest men I've ever known, and he was one of my biggest heroes and mentors starting soon after he met Neal in the early '60s, a feeling which continues in me to this day. The pearls of wisdom that he shared with me and others around him are too numerous to count, but thankfully he left a great legacy in his body of work that will last forever.
Neal always wanted to be a provider to his family, and little did he know that much of that provision would be accomplished posthumously through doors that were opened to me because of his famous friends like Kesey and the Grateful Dead, Jerry Garcia being another of my heroes from about 1965 on. Much to the worry of my mother, Kesey and Neal would come collect my sister and me at high school, giving the authorities some song and dance about dentist appointments or whatever, and they'd whisk us away to see the Dead play at some local high school prom dance, just after they changed their name from the Warlocks. Some fond, early memories there. I recall once being called to the school office, not knowing what I had done to deserve what was surely going to be trouble from the evil principle, only to open the door and see Neal and Ken dressed in American flag jumpsuits complete with day-glo red Beatle boots and silly hats. The principle looked confused and said to me "this man claims to be your father!" He looked like he thought the circus was in town.
My mother needn't have worried. When I'd try to sniff the smoke from the refers being passed around the car, Dad would admonish the passengers "no dope for the kid!" Kesey knew I was disappointed, but always honored Neal's request in those early days.
After Neal's death Kesey would go out of his way to look us up when he was in the Bay Area, and he showed up unannounced at my wedding in November of 1975 on his way back from Egypt, while writing a piece for Rolling Stone. That was one heck of a party. I still have pictures of him holding my then-3-month-old son, Jamie, and beaming like a proud godfather.
Another warm memory was back stage at a Dead show in Eugene when Kesey's fellow prankster Zonker ceremoniously presented me with one of 2 railroad spikes that the Dead's roadie Ramrod, while on a sacred pilgrimage, had extracted from the tracks where Neal died in Mexico. And again when Kesey and Ken Babbs bequeathed Neal's black and white stripped shirt to me that he had worn on the bus trip to New York in 1964, this time during a show we did at the Fillmore in 1997 before bringing the bus to Cleveland, where it was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Ken called and asked if I would drive "Further" into Ohio "because Neal can't make it this trip." Although veteran Prankster driver and mechanic George Walker did the actual driving, Kesey's heart was in the right place. That road trip was surpassed only by the 4-week tour of the UK in 1999, sponsored by London's Channel Four studios. Traveling with Ken in close quarters for that long really made for a lasting bond between us, and he was at his peak as a performer. It was fun for me to play guitar behind his harmonica and the Thunder Machine. I last saw him as we said our goodbyes at SFO after that incredible journey, and I was sad to have not been able to do so again before last Saturday.
Ken Kesey was a great teacher and a beautiful soul, and he will be missed by all that his magic touched.
John also sent these great photos:
John Cassady and Further
John Cassady at the Wheel
Ken Kesey and John Cassady
John Cassady
From Dede by way of IntrepidTrips.com
To hear about the sudden passing of your greatest dad, grand dad, writer,
earth man, soul man.
My brother and I were talking about it and he said that when bill graham
died suddenly, Ken made an appearance at a Grateful Dead Halloween show in a
top hat and tails like out of the wild west, and spoke an ee cummings poem
... my bro said he had a recording of that night, and when he heard that
k.k. died, he went and dug out that tape and listened to it on the
headphones and had a mystical experience....
thank you for all the great good words, works, and example in how to live a
life.
From Cody by way of IntrepidTrips.com
Yesterday I saw the article about Kesey being in the
hospital. Today I got online and saw the news. It's
weird really. I am not sure how to say what's going
through my head, mostly shock, disbelief, and a state
of surrealism. I have no idea what everyone there must
be thinking.
I never met Kesey in person. I emailed him a few
times after a friend first gave me his email. She had
corresponded with him in the past. I'm sure you guys
are being bombarded with emails like this and I hope
you get around to reading mine. I'm sure if you do
feel up to responding, it could be a long time. I
understand, I've lost people I've cared about too.
But what I wanted to say is that, like many before me,
Kesey changed my life. I've always thought if any one
man helped shape a generation it was Kesey (with the
help of the rest of you guys). I missed that
generation by quite a few generations. To me Kesey
was this immortal figure of everything that life can
be like. He was a living example of what can happen
when you are true to yourself and forget all of
society's bullshit. Ken Kesey was the real American
hero. I wrote a poem about Kesey back in the summer.
I was thinking about all the things I would like to
say if I ever met him. (I've enclosed it.) It seems
much more relavent to me now.
My friend Kara and I had this wild scheme dreamed up
about taking a road trip to Eugene in the spring and
try to meet Kesey and you and any other Prankster or
family member hanging around. Now I guess it won't
happen.
The real reason why I am writing is to tell you just
how this man's life affected mine. I was in the
second semester of my sophomore year and disillusioned
as hell. I was majoring in pre-pharmacy but knew that
it wasn't for me. I had no real direction until I was
at a party one night and Kara (the girl I mentioned
earlier although I didn't know her as good at the
time) told me about Kesey. She said she had a copy of
Electric Kool-aid Acid Test. I read it and I was in
awe. Some of it was Wolfe's style in writing the
story but mostly it was the life. I thought 'this is
fucking amazing!' I couldn't believe the way Kesey
totally stayed true to himself and didn't give a shit
about what people thought. At the time, I was having
trouble with worrying about other perceptions of me.
When I read Acid Test, I thought that is how I want to
be. I want to be me and not who they think I should
be. Acid Test gave me a new way of looking at life.
Then I picked up a copy of Sailor Song. I was
addicted from the first page. Kesey's style of
storytelling left me spellbound. For a long time, I
had the ideas in my head. I was too lazy to put them
on paper. Before I finished Sailor Song, I started on
my book. I even named my chapters (which is
surprisingly fun)like Kesey. My fantasy was to finish
the manuscript and let Kesey read it and see what he
thought. I sent him the first chapter back in the
summer and he couldn't open the file. So I sent it
back to him as email text instead but I guess he never
got a chance to look at it. Anyway, that was a few
months ago and now I'm on the eleventh chapter. (I
right a little slow.) If I finish it and by the grace
of God it gets published, I will definitely dedicate
it to his memory.
So what I'm trying to say is that I'm just one of the
many Americans in debt to Kesey. If not for him I
would probably be so disillusioned with life that I'd
be sitting in my garage with the door down and the
windows open and the engine running. I will never
forget Ken Kesey and neither will the world.
PS--Here's the poem. It's not much. But then again,
I'm not much of a poet.
The Last American Cowboy
(For Ken Kesey)
The dust had settled before you were born
but you paid it no mind.
Just kept on pushing Further
contorting space & time.
They handed you the key
& you unlocked the door.
You shaped a generation
while showing up the world.
They said the Frontier's dead.
You found it but a ploy.
Kept on riding the rangeó
The Last American Cowboy.
Never fighting any battles,
never winning any wars,
only showing us the mind
by stripping it to the core.
When they lay you down,
the world will shed a tear
& take a moment of silence
for Kesey the Pioneer.
More from Kody
" True American Spirit"
Last Saturday, a very important American passed away.
Many of you may not know this and many more of you may
not know who he was.
He was Ken Kesey - author, dreamer and pioneer.
Kesey grew up in Eugene, Ore. He graduated from the
University of Oregon, which he attended on a wrestling
scholarship.
Kesey then moved to California and entered Stanford's
creative writing program.
At Stanford, Kesey wrote a novel you might know - "One
Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest."
The novel, which was made into a film starring Jack
Nicholson, told the story of Chief Bromden, a 7-foot,
schizophrenic Indian who lives in a mental ward. Chief
Bromden pretends to be mute and deaf.
When Bromden meets Randall McMurphy, a convict
pretending to be crazy to avoid a work farm, Bromden
begins to change.
The story tells how McMurphy inspires Bromden and
other patients to rise up against the establishment
("the Combine" as Kesey calls it) and be courageous
and true to themselves.
This was the way Kesey lived his life - with courage
and truth.
While living in California, Kesey signed up for drug
testing at the Menlo Park Veterans Hospital.
There Kesey was given a drug the CIA was studying
called LSD.
Kesey saw acid as a way of exploring parts of the mind
that could not ordinarily be reached.
Kesey would smuggle acid out of the hospital and throw
parties with his friends.
His friends later became "The Merry Pranksters" and
the parties "Acid Tests," where the Grateful Dead were
given their start.
In the early '60s, Kesey and the Pranksters took a
road trip across America on their psychedelic bus
"Further."
From this trip, many popular sayings of the time
originated, including "on the bus," which signified
you were open to expanding your mind (not necessarily
through drugs) and "being true to yourself."
The road trip was chronicled in Tom Wolfe's "The
Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test," which I recommend
everyone should read.
Kesey shaped the entire hippie movement.
If you've ever worn a tie-dye shirt or listened to a
Grateful Dead album or been to a rave or other large
communal gathering, it is in some way because of
Kesey.
His influence reaches far beyond the '60s. It is
immortal.
Today, though, we are losing the message of Kesey.
We are not members of the hippies or the Beat
Generation or the Lost Generation or even Generation
X.
We are the Franchise Generation - all cheaply made in
Taiwan, shipped overseas and sold for 10 times cost.
The closest thing to rebellion we know is wearing an
Abercrombie hat with our Gap pullover.
We are too concerned with conformity to be true to
ourselves.
The independent spirit is dying. We only care about
what others think, not what we think.
What kind of future are we heading for if we only
follow trends?
Do you want to live like the Franchise says and then
be buried in a designer coffin or do you want to live
on your terms? The latter is a lot less stressful.
It's time we follow Kesey's example and be true to
ourselves. Let's all get on the bus.
From Phil Allard (© Copyright 2001)
The Nothing Lasts Poem to Merry Prankster Ken Kesey
You’re a blazing daylight trip, Ken, a long chartreuse noon-time journey,
a wailing Garcia jam tearing open seams into my expanding consciousness.
I see you in head shops, local bars, used bookstores, and corporate management meetings.
You’re an ungovernable wave of change outrunning the rising siren of a police cruiser.
You’re the comforting thought of anarchy and chaos.
You’re the confident Captain Marvel mask walking away from the frenzied crowd.
You’re the reason to forget the frenzied crowd.
Your colors are pouring onto this page, Ken.
It’s time you fessed up. You’re the navigator of this runaway exploding prism.
Let the insomniacs in the insane asylum articulate their frustrations.
Let the rusted logger’s chain break against the weight of thousand-year old redwoods.
Let the timber crash. Let the garage sale begin. Let the sailor spit his song into the ocean.
Flesh of Mountain Girl, Stark Naked, Mary Microgram and the “Who Cares Girl”
with Cassady at the eternal wheel and Babbs second in command--
Let them all live their daytime song. Let them all wail their movie.
Isn’t it a shame that a man can lose his daytime song, Ken,
Isn’t it a shame that a man has to fight to star in his own movie?
Let us dance and sway after the parks are closed.
Let us dance and sway after the minds are closed,
after the generic malls and homogenized convenience stores
on America’s main streets are closed.
Day turns to night, Ken.
My open wounds tell me I’m still on the bus.
You taught me to keep that wound open,
to stay on the bus.
Keroauc stirred up a Charlie Parker bop-
then you mixed in a Garcia jam-
and I become a piece of that song, Ken
a piece of that tied-dyed song,
a song I still want the words to.
Fueled by your deeds under this day-glo moon
a new life form emerges, a naked verb tearing itself
from an angelic tongue--
spreading into the backroads of still minds.
Your colors are pouring onto Main Street, Ken.
Your colors are filling the classrooms and gymnasiums,
Ken, the kickback from your chainsaw
is a searing tab of heat for me to ride high on.
More tribute pages 1
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Page URL: http://pranksterweb.org/index.htm
© Copyright 2001, Rick Dodgson
Webmaster: Rick Dodgson
Revised: November/28/2001
