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New York NYC Crime Bronx Brooklyn Manhattan Queens Education Obituaries Sports Yankees Mets Giants Jets Knicks Nets Rangers Islanders Football Basketball Baseball Hockey Soccer College High School The Score News Crime U.S. Follow Us Facebook Twitter Instagram Pinterest YouTube Subscribe Follow UsNewsletter App Subscriptions Subscribe Get Our Newsletter A daily blend of the most need-to-know Daily News stories, delivered right to your inbox. BY Jennifer Angel Saturday, August 29, 2009, 10:53 PM George is a confident and pro-active Cancerian. Send a Letter to the Editor Join the Conversation: facebook Tweet Get Daily News stories, delivered to your inbox. Hello Hetty and Helen:I've discovered today your blog trough your video in YOUTube And i really find it interesting,I ve read one or two of your entries and theyre nice and sincere and I really like your drawings too. Healthful eyes and superior vision lead noticeably to the usefulness and consolation of fashionable lifestyle. There are hundreds of thousands of men and women that battle with Eczema every working day. Most gentle to reasonable hearing decline is short term and can be improved by using a several uncomplicated natural procedures. An effective way to avoid the pain and sleepless nights is to find a natural cure for acid reflux. Currently the foods we consume, the h2o we drink and even the air we breathe are contaminated with masses of toxic resources. Magazines, movies and advertisements gave people an idea that big breasted women are adorable and sexy.
To abide by a healthy diet is not about avoidance of eating preferred cuisines and obeying nutritional charts.
In buy for your human body to properly develop muscle you require to provide it with more power. House Solutions - Homemade Natural beauty Recipes and Items House Solutions - Homemade Natural beauty Recipes and Items. He works almost purely on Gut-Feel, and once he has made up his mind about something or someone, there is no stopping him and no going back. You mentioned during your last visit to me that you don't have single fly in your rented room at Kimdol. Of course you haven't changed a wit since I last held your soft beautiful body in an embrace I did not want to let go of. He knows what works for him, and he knows how to go about getting what he wants, and thata€™s what earned him the nickname, a€?The Bossa€™! I discovered to my dismay that this little person was nearly two - her mum was into macrobiotics and was feeding her brown rice and onions. I was slicing a green pepper when she crept up to me and looked impluringly at this green-ness - well i gave her a teeny bit - I had to didn't I? Her mother was outraged - I had aparently ruined all chances of a buddhahood with that lovely green morsle.
Food - this was my first impression of the United States - and how it all tasted of nothing - was vast in size and gave the seasoned old traveller her first case of 'touristas'!
I had never seen a supermarket, if they existed in England then - well I had never seen one. Cancerians are good money management people, and George has Jupiter the lucky planet of abundance also in the sign of Cancer, which gives him an additional boost of influence in the financial area.
Little shops was what I knew - so this vast airplane hanger filled out with food isles - shelf upon shelf of comestibles of every kind - very confusing - I carefully bought some proper cheese and the green peppers - the loaf of bread I picked up squished to nothing in my hands and I put it back before it died - terrified by this time and with burning feet I tried to find the counter where one paid.
With Saturn the business minded planet placed in the sign it rules, Capricorn, this is an extremely strong business placement, giving him the capability to gain the skills, attributes and knowledge to be a huge success! A heavy hand on my shoulder and a deep bass voice telling me to hand over my basket - naturally I had my wicker shopping basket on my arm - it had come a long way that basket and I wasn't giving it away to anyone - WHY - I was being arrested for shoplifting - but I had not found where to pay and I stoutly gave him my 'shopping lady.' They let me go - what could they do really. My first brush with American Law - more to come.For now though I made my first American friends Mikki and Ion Grande who lived upstairs, also Mark Endey whom we had met in Tangiers - I recalled that he had tured my antoharp beautifully - a muscician perhaps?
Yes and he knew this town well and wanted us all to share in a big place in a park like area called Haight Ashbury.
I did but - whew - she steamed back a little later shouting at me that it was right there, what was my game etc - amazed, i stared at a handbag. How could this bulging thing remotely resemble a book - let alone one that fits in the pocket.Marco played the sitar and had just come from studying with Ravi Shankar, his first American student he said. He was very pretty - looked like a Rajput miniature with a dark moustache and a head of dark curls.Painting by HettyHe had a huge instrument and I played it like a double bass and thought of Lenny. Marco wanted to be my lover - I did not think it would work for a moment but he was rather fun then. The houses were very close together but it did not seem crowded as they were white clapboard with big windows - very close to each other and CRASH, a man burst through from next door in a quick noisy, destructive manner - Marco was cross. Of course we had good weed in England then - legally from African Gents - and we had tried Mescalin - but the vast variety of mind benders and mood alterators was again like that supermarket. Marco had been to school locally with Rock Scully and with him we went one day to a local town where some friends lived in Merry something Lane - a small street of more wooden porches, but this one had all kinds of junk in the front garden - called a yard.
Very messy people they were - think sort ot leader called Ken - tight to scull blonde curls and big-man attitude - very positive. He had written a book about a loony-bin called "One flew over the Cookoo's nest" which was achieving fame for him but he lived in this jolly little crumbling house and joy shone all around. The two if them drove around around town visiting tips called Clementina boxes - all sorts of goodies thrown away by this amazingly consumer society - no compost or wet garbage so they collectef furniture which Marco repaired or even constructed, I remember a throne like chair he made out of three fake victorian recliners. They also visited attics and then Chets Laurie and I got first pic of the beautiful clothes they found. Chet sold them from a shop front in Benkley somewhere and with the money they hired the hall for the first rock and roll fance. Just across the road in a large basement some musicians had been jamming for some time and groups were farming - so the Charlatans were on the bill and I think a good dance band called Mount Rushmore - maybe they came later - they never became famous but I thought them among the best for dancing to. We needed incense but Chinatown quite a ways away so - suddenly a little shop on the corner of Haight and Maxonic was vacant and it became the weedpatch - the first shop created for our needs in Haight Street.Others followed with bewildering speed, the five and dime became the Print Mint and the Thelin brothers opened the Psycodelic shop. Hung with Indian bedspreads and sweetened with incense it became a focal point - still we were not that many - indeed on helping a friend put up shelves for her dress shop I wondered if there would be a clientele for her kind of clothes.
I need not have pondered that point for we had come to the attention of Herb Cain, a columnist for the San Franciso Chronicle, who wrote that some young people were forming groups in the Haight Ashbury district - they were too young and colourful to be called Beatnics (who prolificated on North Street) - he would cain a phrase from our vocabulary - the word 'hip' and add the diminutive 'ie' - thus the word Hippy was born.
To my distress - "labled like a pickle bottle" I mourned - don't worry - oh yes sir sorry but this one will stick - it is catchy - and by gum it has. We had a grand death and burial of the wretched subrequet but it has never left and now is a term of decision.Nevertheless we carried on our merry way, those were fun years indeed - Marco, Jason and I moved into a charming little home off Shaddock Avenue in Berkely where we could make a noise all night should we want to because out house was included in a row of shops and therefore not residential.
The school playground boardered our little garden - so Jason just had to run across it to school. Marco was going to take lessons in the sitar from some Indian musicians nearby which was why we moved and one day I asked if I could go with him to the home of the Scrips family just to be able to imagine the surroundings.
I hid in a vast arm chair and peeped out - the teacher looked very kind - but I cringed as he came toward me holding a cup of tea and enquired why I was not playing an instrument - I stammered that I played piano and organ and therefore was not that hot on strings - however (remembering the gourd bars and thinking of Lenny) there was one instrument which intrigued me - the tanpoura.

I started out with a ghastly jangle and he smiled and handed me over to some South Indian singers who were to instruct me.
This wonderful man was Ali Akbar Khan, the great Sarod player.I played away every morning with the South Indians - small and very funny - always playing jokes and jumping out to try and make me stop - because the tanpoura never does. He often came to our little house and would drink and smoke literally everyone under the tables - bodies everywhere; but he just sat bunched into full lotus position singing away. I made them very merry with me incessant worrying about money - being the only non fee paying student - but you are our only real student - they don't pay in India but serve their teacher - so the flowers and sweet cakes paid off and our happiness at having them around.
At last 'Dada' (as we called Ali Akbar Khan) asked me to perform and I was thrilled to hear that I oculd play the timeless absolute and play for his own practice sessions. Just across the road defiantly stood the castle, I don't know who the architect was but he borrowed a bit here and a bit there - gandi for the stairs - medieval crypt for the hall and a huge room mwith an art deco window to view the smog, we were just above it so - a dun brown lake view - lovely. Barry Maguire who had just had a nuumber one single with the Eve of Destruction was living there with his beautiful lady and Severin Darden the actor lived in the garden flat.A truely happy bunch with our singing sweetheart Mama Cass of the Mamas an the Papas,eating in the kitchen. My son Jason wearing his chinese silk suit - playing his flute - gave him a big silver plastic knight with the solom warning 'this is the night of the night and when he opens up his thousand eyes watch out babe blue' - what it meant I din't know but is he the child dancing in one of his songs. My little book of ragas transposed for piano stave wasn't there after one session - pity, it had taken a long time to do and Pig was interested. A large wooden house with a love palue tree outside contained the group 'the Warlocks', now known as the Grateful Dead.
Many people have their version of how this curious name came to be but I remember - in the Ashbury house Phil coming up with the headline in the Egyptian book of the dead - 'the ship of the sun ferried across the sky by the grateful dead - but it seems out of sync so it was already established - apt, though - for many of us had 'died' and were grateful for the experience.
Owsley also lived there and in a small room up top a lovely young man Tim Scully )no relation of Rocks') was engineering a super conductor of a sound system, something Owsley always aspired to and Tim longed for alchemy.
Did the Dead make a lot of music there - well no because their instruments were all in pieces - being brought up to super electronic speed. Gerry played the six stringed banjo which was tingling stuff whilst we waited for Owsley to open the wall cupboard - all in one tiny room of expectancy. Hetty confered and she and Marco were added to the cast of an after showtime show in a quonset hut. Severin Darden - Del Close - Hugh Romney - and to top the bill Tiny Tim tripping tiptoe through the tulips - how lucky we were.
A lively little show called and money from the door shared evenly from Hughs lovely wife Bonnie. Straight across the road bolted Hetty to another vast shop with a windmill on the roof (used to them by now.) Bought fruit of all kinds whilst Tim bought spinache and told me that should he ever marry they would have seperate bathrooms - offsubject for supermarket banter. They would wait up and grab those fruits I'll say - Owsley was very cross with me - I had ruined his experiment - like the baby girl denied Buddhahood by a sliver of green pepper - oh the sins of vitamin C.
He had embarassed me horribly soon after I arrived - I had been told to come up to the castle to see Tom and Lisa any time - but be cool - come alone.
But how hilarious - two monomaniacs face to face.Photo by Stanley MouseAll this time Pigpen and I had become buddies - blues were our meetig ground and it grew. Marco went to San Francisco for some reason and it meant I was ready for a chance so I had a wee fling with Severin at the castle - empty of the Zimmermans but a curious blonde girl who kept turning off the power switch when we climbed down to fill the goose pond and feed them - chinese they were. Then came the grand news that we were all booked for a weekend gig at the Longshore mens warf in S.F. I was Hetty, the witch from England ( well well!).Severin and I went to see a showdirected by Andy Warhole and acted by Gerard Malunga and Mary Mary to the velvate underground - a New York band, Sev drove me in his black porche with the batman sticker and we saw them again at the Philmore - little did I know that the love of my life was hovering near (sorry Lenny). The spaniards rowed across the bay and taught them how to make adobe - there was a peice behind glass in one wall. One morning as I was making breakfast I noticed a black dog with golden eyes staring at me from the laundry room. She finally left as she came, we never knew where she went but for about three years she spent a lot of time with Jason and I had several litters on my bed.Photo by Stanley MouseJason had at this time threee homes - this was because we thought it a good idea. One was with me of course and I was in Pagest as well as Olimpali and Danny Rifkin, now the Deads manager, had opened up the house on Ashbury Street - he had been renting it as a B+B or something but for now the Dead lived there - yes after a momentous party at the ranch when everyone was running around naked and dogs and children abounded -Bobby and I were in the kitchen which had a full view of the festivities when two men with bow ties came by and looked amazed. Just around now I went up to see about this local paper, coming out of two tiny rooms above the print mint in the old Five and Dime store. Hey why the black and white and columns I exclaimed - 'we are a psycodelic community so where's the colour and swirling formats.' I was not very impressed but very soon afterwards Travis Rivers, the oracle manager, came in a white van for me and we drove to a new office in a flat overlooking the Intersection of Haight and Masonic.
At first I worked under the art editorship of Gabe Katz, byt he moved on and I did the work I loved - colour and form on newsprint - new and inspiring.I wasn't living anywhere - staying with Pig - sleeping in the park with Lady as a warm pillow - just totally free and Jason had taken to living with the Dead - he had a small room like Harry Potters under the stairs - it was clean and cosy and next door was Laird who had been a Hells Angel but reformed by the magic of alchemy was now a 'Dead' roady, no mean task with all of that owsley sound system! I was very close by when with Pig because the house was quite small but held a lot of people including many many visitors.Among them was a girl, she had been bought from Austin Texas by Chet Helms and Travis and now was singing with a band called Big Brother which Chet had been promoting, sadly not so successfully but in his newly aquired dance hall the Avlon Ballroom. I had listened to this girl sing and enraptured, knew that Chets bad would definately succeed.
Her name was Janice and we were buddies.People said we looked alike but we didn't, perhaps we wore the same feathered hats and shoes.She drank I didn't - well I recall sitting between Janice and Pig passing the Southern Comfort back and forth - ugh that smell!! I had another girl friend called Ami McGill a fine artist, a regular Oracle staff member, she also had a magical little shop filled with fun and rainbow glasses which were colourful to wear except when going down stairs. We were merrily walking to 'the office' one sunny morning and passes a wee florists shop - outside were bunches of very wilted daisies. So we asked the lavender coloured lady inside 'how much' - not much, so we carried them away to put on the art room mantlepiece - but we gave them all away even to a policeman who put it in his cap. Anyway we enjoyed that and we came to an arrangement that we had the most wilted daily and it caught on - soon people were festooning each other and flower power was born - from small beginnings!!Suddenly there opened yet another dance hall - this in the Philmore district - rather shabby - well it had been open for a while because Marco and I were invited to a 'Promenade' there way back. It was big and cold and rather tatty - no light show and the Dead were still the Warlocks - but one could walk up and down and meet friends - a long bar - a large band room and many little hideaways. That particular evening was made a little strange because a very agitated man kept charging up and down - to me he looked as if in the Merchant Navy - off.Navy sleeveless pullover and anvy trousers - white shirt and as I said very nervous - put us on edge.
More or less my last as I did not care for autocratic people, especially at a time when everyone was doing well at being kind - delightful and at one with each other. No doubt he was an excellent dance hall manager and all that went with it but as I was not a rock and roll musician we did not need contact. Around this time a wonderful summer passed in Lagonitas, a scattering of houses in the woods in Marin County, across the superbe Bay bridge. The Dead had an old 1930's camp site and Janice with Big brother had a house above mine in a haunted cul de sac. Opposite to them was a wooden villa all boarded up and notices saying 'Property of Lloyds of London.
Then Pigpen saw a vintage car go by, driven by a man in a cap and his passenger - a lady wearing a large green feathered hat.
There was talk among the children of breaking in, but we scotched that my going in by the back door ourselves which was ajar!
It led into a kitchen with gleaming copper pots and all the furniture etc was totally 1920. I noticed that the old wall plugs were shiny and new and the folded fan of newsprint in the grate was white - I looked for a date and yes, sometime in the 1920's. We crept upstairs and a huge pair of mens brown shoes caught our eye and then - on the bed - a big green feathered hat - we fled downstairs and from outside came the demanding voice of the Sheriff.

The Sheriff eventually gave up and went away, and eventually the ghost faded so we crept out. What on earth was all this about, so we asked at the general store in Lagonitas - oh yes we were told - the lady died and the house was locked up years ago. I peaked round the hedge and was met with a cacophony of hideous screeching - beeping - howling sound, and to my dismay the road was filled with police cars, all their radios jammed and bull roarers shouting. Steve saw a pure blue moon and as he was on the hill saw the warriors close up and heard weird noises. I saw a man in a navy blue raincoat and snap brim hat carrying a brief case - I was sure - not so some others who thought he was 'the man!' I invited him into the art room where he sat on the floor and invited us to do the same - by the light of the gas fire I saw a ruby glint as he rolled up his right sleeve, and lo! He became a good friend and a regular visitor.Ron Thorud had the idea for the Summer of Love, and that brought the television folk who looked at the festoons of dusty electrical wire and blenched - they went ahead and nearly blew us up!
They wanted a round table discussion but this was not our way so out we went into the little garden and played hide and seek with them. I stuck my head out of a Bush and begged anyone coming to bring a sleeping bag as it could get very cold when the fog rolled in.
Actually for myself I was not too keen on the idea - we were not ready for any kind of influx - and it was huge. Young and enthusiastic we were and strong also but we frightened the powers that be - because the youngsters who arrived in droves wanting free everything, were from grand families as well as the Iowa farm boy. We all wore whistles.If we saw anyone being beaten up - we blew - and soon everyone joined in and we rain to help. Travis and I used to visit him nightly to bail out those arrested - mostly for vagrancy which was $25 each. Well obviously something had to be done and so the good natured bands played on a flat bed truck to the drumming of an ancient dyram.Speedway meadow became a dance floor and this worked for awhile because the cops could not enter the park and the rangers were averse to arrests. The Grateful Dead played a concert in Haight street and the audience stretched the entire length.So although there were tense moments there were funny ones also - like one young mans answer to a cop who had found some weed in his pocket - "Oh that!
Emmet Kelly and his cohouts took the throw away from outside the various supermarkets and fed several hundred people daily in the Panhandle for free. Too many came - I hope they all learned and had fun and togetherness as we did.Around that time a tall man came into the art room with a little blue book of poems. This was my first meeting with Angus Maclise.Then, a good friend from the old Russian Embassy told me of an affair she was having and how she longed to meet him somewhere, where her husband Ian would not see.
Said she could meet him in the art room if she drew for me.She did, very nicely thank you, and he arrived - fall bespectacled - she told me he was the best man in the world. You see - Marco could not be lived with - nor alas could Pigpen, with him - alcohol - with Marco, stronger stuff they called Dujee.
I needed neither, so I decided to be alone, free, and to devote all my energies to the Oracle. So - during all that time, about a year - whilst everyone was seriously into Free love - I remained celebate. One thing had changed however - I no longer slept in the park for I found a wonderful place to live. His room had one wall, a union jack - we wondered who had painted it but he wanted it to remain and so it did.Mikki and Angus came round in the evening when many people came to talk and laugh. I found that he was interested in the myths of the world as was I - so there were many interesting conversations. Also, the first time I witnessed Angus' habit of picking people up and swinging them around! This was right on Haight St as we started off on a picnic - I decided not to go and so - just to say tootaloo he picked me up and round I went and came down abit breathless, but basically unmoved. Under which I put Jasons presents and sat painting tiny miniatures for my close friends - it was Christmas Even when the front door banged open and there stould Angus. Well as Jason is away you could sleep in his room - but when he returns i'm sorry but you will have to find someplace else (funny-.) He begged me to accompany him to collect his things, which I did, and felt really uncomfortable because they all leapt to the wrong conclusion.
I sat and tried to remember that it was christmas eve whilst shouts and sounds of objects flung about. So Angus stayed and Jason did not return and it was after New Years Eve and walking with Angus down Haight Street, he suddenly rushed through the tourist traffic and whirled a girl around - it was Mikki.
I walked on feeling so relieved and happy that I was still just and only just friends with Angus. Poor man - he looked up amazed - "whatever is the matter" - 'Oh I have just done the stupidest thing' I wailed. Between then and now however much happened.Such as, we had a trip with friends to a lovely place caled Inverness and Angus bought me a single Iris, how could he have known it was my favourite flower, a Picesian, very romantic.
So it was just a few days later, on St Valentines day, he went down on one knee in the panhandle and said that he wanted me to be his wife and the mother of his children. We went out to the park where we found a Dingle (both of us George Borrow readers) and sat entwined when a silhouette of a man in a trench coat was seen on the edge of the little dingle ( which is a cosy private hollow in a wood.) Spell broken we walked hand in hand through the park and suddenly were drenched by a tree - yes the tree was raining, it was the only one. So here is the way Angus saw it in this poem:Photo by Ira CohenJaon returned to find Angus out of his room and into mine (good bye Lennie for some time). I don't think he was very happy about this and one can understand it - he and Angus had an early argument about stick drumming versus hand drumming, you would not think such a silly thing could have such a disasterous effect - but alas, they did not get along - ever. Jason really did not like any man who came close to me - even Pigpen - he was a posessive little boy - I understood this but could not go on living like a nun to suit him. Well there we were happy; and the Haight Ashbury scene crumbled slowly around us - you may have read some of this before in my conversation with Tim Barns earlier in this 'blog' - however at the time it was anything but funny. Angus really wanted to marry me and it did not hinder him at all that I was still married to Tom and it is two years for bigamy. I tumbled and fel so sad - here was a man who loved me for myself - after all Peter married me to obtain a government job and Tom to get wife and child support on his pension.
Angus had his talent and I had my job and the Oracle, but it was disintigrating like everything else.
Came the spring solstice and we went to celebrate in the speedway meadow as usual - 'oh how pretty' I exclaimed when I saw a silk tent someone had erected - so charming and tinkling with the sound of the many Japanese wind charms.
Helloh - it was Diane di Prima, a poetess friend of Angus who had put it up and it is your wedding day. Iggy - a nice jewish friend who had completed 32 days of Zaxen meditation formalised our vows and promises, Tim Leary turned up to bless us and the dear old Grateful Dead witnessed our union.
The only true one I had, we kept those promises.It was said that I had to be married by my tribe, and I was.

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