Curations from the Human Jungle
[I related to this, because I lived in Providence in 1965, and I was at the Newport Folk Festival on the night when Dylan first strapped on his electric guitar. And ... truth be told ... I was among the half of the crowd who booed him. Why? Was I anti-rock 'n roll? Hardly. As... Continue Reading →
[The Boob Tube. This can refer to "boob" as in dull, slow-minded nitwit, or "boob" as in breast, the original source of nourishment and comfort. Or as our resident Jungle poet Silverback Haiku Larry might say: I find my comfort at the electronic boob in my living room. Below are three photos showing me at... Continue Reading →
[Have I told you about the time I met Joan Baez? It was ... you've already heard this? More than once? Several? What exactly do you mean "More than several?" Really? That many? Holy gorilla scat! Well, If I've told you that many times, once more certainly isn't going to hurt. It was at the... Continue Reading →
[I was there ... Newport 1965, when Dylan came out with his electric guitar. Half the crowd cheered, half booed. As the rhythm guitarist of the fabulous Van Voghs, Rhode Island's own Beatle wannabees, you might think I would be raising my fist in triumph. Nope, I was among the naysayers who thought that Dylan... Continue Reading →