Wednesday, June 10, 2015

My city in ruins...

 Signs of the bitter things ahead...

Yesterday I had the opportunity to visit Yellow Springs, Ohio.  As an old hippie-activist, this town has been an important part of the fabric of my life for many years.  At one time Yellow Springs, and the small college in its midst, Antioch, were one of the major political centers of the anti-war movement of the sixties and early seventies.  I dare say this small Ohio town was no less significant to hippies back in the day than Haight Ashbury in California.  Yellow Springs was a town of great substance, filled with intellectual and creative minds.  It was a place where people joined together in intellectual conversation that led to getting things done.  It was a place of great power, and great activity.  Sadly, that is no longer the reality of Yellow Springs.

Yellow Springs has become a ghost town, where tourists and wannabe hippies come in search of memories that no longer dwell in the quaint storefronts that line the main thoroughfare of this once fine community.  Gone is the communal feeling of Yellow Springs.  It has been replaced by a adversarial and confrontational spirit of "townies" versus the rest of us.  The town has been ruthlessly taken over by economic conservatives who see no value in the hippies coming to visit their establishments than the green dollars in our drugged up hands.  More often than not, shops are operated by fake hipsters who are more prone to quoting Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly than Ram Dass or Abbie Hoffman.  There are Hollywood movie sets more real and containing more substance than Yellow Springs.  The place now breaks my heart far more often than it lifts my spirits.  It is bereft of heart and soul...

 Where the cruel kids hang...

Super-Fly was perhaps the worst experience of my day in Yellow Springs.  The place was staffed with sullen faced kids who seemed more interested in ignoring potential customers than getting up off their butts and welcoming them to their shop and asking if they might help them find something specific to their interests.  After my experience there, I wouldn't spend a dime in their shop if they were having a Going Out Of Business sale.  I would, however, highly recommend Dark Star Books.  They greet customers with kind words, easy smiles and they'll walk you through their shop and help you find whatever you might be looking for. Yeah, I spent money at Dark Star.  They earned it.

Open hearts and open minds welcome here.

Nestled in a building filled with Aveda hair salons and local artists combines, (where it seemed as if even business cards cost fifty dollars and up) I discovered the wonderful little shop by the name of the House of Ravenwood.  Hippies are welcomed here not as tourists to be fleeced, but as kindred spirits to be embraced and welcomed to their community. This is the Yellow Springs I remember. You can walk into this establishment, and if you have have half a mind to speak your mind, they'll let you speak it.  This is where church was in Yellow Springs yesterday.  And for twenty bucks, I walked out of there with a BAG of beads, bangles, essential hippie gear, and a heart uplifted and a spirit renewed by the fellowship I encountered there. It would have been a bargain at double the price.

 Lorele and Ms. Philana.  Very good spirits.

These two wonderful souls will see more of this old hippie in days to come.  As long as the House of Ravenwood is occupied by these wonderful women, I'll return again and again.  Truly, if you plan on visiting Yellow Springs, your visit will not be complete until you stop in and visit this quaint little shop.  I'd sit down for coffee and conversation with these women any day of the week.

Deanna, Kari and Carrie, the random encounter...

 After my wonderful experience in the House of Ravenwood, I walked outside seeking food and beverage to refuel my corporeal needs as thoroughly as my spiritual batteries had just been recharged.  I'd no sooner stepped out upon the sidewalk to begin my search for mass quantities of consumables, when three giggling ladies came walking up the sidewalk towards me.

It turned out that Kari was celebrating her birthday with two of her best friends, Deanna and Carrie.  As soon as they saw me, Kari turned to Carrie and said, "This guy is your soul-mate!" Well, conversation ensued and after some laughs and an exchange of photos, they began contemplating psychic readings for fifty dollars a pop.

"Oh no ladies," I said. "In my jingly green bag I have several devices that I will share with you, for no charge whatsoever, as my gift to you on your birthday."  Long story short, we rolled across the street and into a bar called, The Gulch.  The ladies ordered their beverages of choice and I ordered an ice water, (I don't drink alcohol) and I proceeded to share with them the magic I possess as an old hippie-shaman.  It proved to be an enlightening experience I'm sure they'll talk about for many birthday gatherings to come.  And it didn't cost them a single penny.  Needless to say, hearts were opened, and both tears and laughs were shared in copious quantities.  It was a grand time.

The lesson of this day in Yellow Springs?  The experience I came looking for, only happened when I opened up my heart and gave it freely to the folks around me.  The hippie they were looking to meet, turned out to be me.  In a town filled only with ghosts of the past, they encountered a spirit who greeted them with a simple message, "Hello, and welcome to the planet.  Have a wonderful and safe trip.  Treat those you encounter with a loving heart, and more often than not, they'll reciprocate and a grand time will be had by all."  There was magic in Yellow Springs yesterday, those who were a part of it will tell you in no uncertain terms, "It felt good, and I'm glad I was a part of it."

Sunday, March 22, 2015

NIX Comics, March Madness

KABLAM!!

So I'm sitting around watching some college hoops, and playing around on facebook, when up pops a post from my buddy at NIX Comics, Ken Eppstein.  He was looking for someone to proofread a new book, and I immediately replied that I'd do it.  He shoots me a PDF of NIX Western Comics #3 right away, and shortly thereafter, I'm reading what turned out to be one of the best stories I've read in awhile, The Coward Earl Vance. 

Written by Ken Eppstein, and brilliantly illustrated by Michael Neno, The Coward Earl Vance is a perfect example of what's best about Indy comics, when they're at their best.  Ken doesn't produce books that simply emulate or imitate the same old tired drivel being pumped out, week after endless week, by the "Big Two".  Whenever I read a NIX Comic, I don't feel like he's trying to prove he's worthy of landing the "big job" with either of the "Big Two" companies.  Ken does his own thing.  His books are never thinly veiled covers of the latest flavor-of-the-day super hero team.  I really like that a lot.

The Coward Earl Vance may be set in the Wild West, but the story is socially relevant to a major issue of our day, without feeling forced, phony or preachy.   I was floored at how good a read this turned out to be.  And no, I'm not going to give away anything about this story.  I'm just going to say this, "This story deserves an award for Best Short Story of the Year."  (So far)

If you're planning to attend either PIX, in Pittsburgh, Pa, next week, or, EXTRA SPACE, in Columbus, Ohio on April the eleventh, this is THE book you want to buy.  I'm telling you, The Coward Earl Bruce is so good, I had two cigarettes afterwards...

Please buy this book!  Trust me, you won't be disappointed...

Monday, March 16, 2015

The Day the Music cried...

Sugar-free they may have been, but the Players were laying down funk as smooth as twelve-year-old scotch.  Local legends, international successes, they filled the stage at Gillys and played music for the reason its supposed to be played, for the joy of playing music. Roller Coaster of love...

Then they were whisked off stage faster than the folks who came to see them could get in the doors.

Then came twenty minutes of awkward silence, followed shortly thereafter by the most bumbling, stumbling troupe of pretentious coffee-house wannabes assembled upon one stage I've ever witnessed in my entire life.  And it was a train wreck.  Miscue followed miscue, highlighted by a genuine, Nancy Kerrigan moment, when a woman I would have expected better of, given her obvious age, stopped mid-song and whined, "I think my monitor is too loud, can I start over?"

Even if they'd been playing around a bonfire in my backyard, we'd have booed them off the stage.

My wingman looked at me and said, "Taco Bell sounds a lot better than this, let's get out of here." And we did...

I love Louie, I love his shows, and have more often than not enjoyed some surprisingly good music at them.  I'll just think of Friday night's portion of Dayton Does Dayton a sour note in what up until then has always been a fairly solid composition. 

On a positive note, High 5 Riot will be playing Gillys on April 25th and I'm sure they'll be bringing some energy.  See you then?