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We
heard about Ken Kesey's passing via e-mail. We
knew he was sick, but we just had no idea that he was
going to move on
to the next reality like that! Melissa just cried,
until Jeff pointed out the Alice in Wonderland blotter
art on the wall in front of her...
with Kesey's bright, shimmering, shining, laughing,
glittery silver signature staring her in the eyes.
HA! I guess the joke was on us!
We drove to Louisville, Kentucky that night, to
see Phil play the Palace. Hearing "The Other
One" > "Cryptical"....
WOW.
The energy was intense. Just like when Jerry
passed, it's our turn now.
And what else can we say... it's hard to find the
words. Kesey and the Pranksters started their trip
well before we were
even born. But we got on the bus too.
And we watch the videos and read the books and collect
the artwork,
because THAT is the energy that we want to surround us
in our lives.
I'll never forget when I was visiting my parents in
Chicago & you guys were in town.
Who else than the Pranksters would tell you the hotel
where they were staying, and invite you over!?
Thank you Master Prankster. May this new trip of
yours be even more beautiful than the last.
Love, Light, Weirdness & Fun,
THE FULL MOON FAMILY
(oh... and Dad... Thank you for buying
me "Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test" and
making me read it. It changed my life).
There are some wonderful contributions on this
tribute page, from many different people.
We hope you enjoy them. As of May 2005, we are still receiving
contributions! |
(Thanks
to our good friend Shady for this beautiful contribution...)
In tenth grade I was reading a history of the United States in the '60s
called Coming Apart and the words The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test
jumped out of the page at me. I wound up reading that book that year
and it blew my mind. The following year, I was in an English class and
the assignment was to pick an author and read three books by or about
the author and write three book reports, culminating in a term paper
on the author, due at the end of the year.
I picked Ken Kesey. |

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Our
Personal Recommendations:
*These
Key-Z Productions Presents videos: Intrepid
Traveler and his Merry Band of Pranksters Look for a
Kool Place, The Merry Pranksters, and The Acid
Test Director's Cut
*Kesey's appearance with the Dead
10/31/91
*Spit
in the Ocean (!!!!!!!!!!!!)
* Key-Z.com
and Intrepid
Trips.com
*Sometimes
a Great Notion, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and
Tom Wolfe's Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test *This
Ken Kesey interview by Matthew Rick
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The
Intrepid Traveler now embarks on his greatest journey.
Continue going Furthur.
Say hello to Jerry and Neal for us, and remember to keep
the camera rolling because the world is still your
movie. -Circus
___________________________
Ken
Kesey's death is heart breaking to all of us. I
know at this time of mourning we are all very sad, but
please, let's not let him go without giving him one more
hand for the things he has done, that we will remember
him for. And at this time, though we are all very
sad, remember one thing, he is in good company...Jerry
is with him! Nothing let to do but smile smile
smile. -Little
Roo |
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I
reread parts of Kool-Aid and did a book report on that. Then I went to
Cuckoo's Nest and did a book report on that. Part of the class involved
learning to use the library and access all the reference books, so I found
all the sources that indicated different writings by and about Ken Kesey
and, as the teacher instructed, began compiling flash cards with all sorts
of citations. I dug up Garage Sale and bits and pieces that were later
collected in Demon Box and also read a biography about Kesey written by
Stephen Tanner.
(Actually, in all honesty, I stole the book from the
school library,
and still have it.)
The term paper was supposed to be something like ten pages,
but mine had
grown to about thirty pages. I had references from
all sorts of directions
and the paper was growing fairly
unwieldy.
I started Sometimes A Great Notion at that time also, and it totally
changed the way I looked at fiction writing. I was doing a fair amount of
fiction writing at that time, and started trying all the narrative tricks
that Kesey used in Great Notion, generally to very awkward results. But it
really freed me up as a writer.
Kool-Aid
had also introduced me to the Grateful Dead and it was also about this
time that I started collecting Dead bootlegs and
plotting my first journey to Grateful Dead land.
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I
didn't actually finish Great Notion junior
year. Even though I was totally blown away by the book, it was too complex
for me to digest in a single sitting,
and it wasn't until I was living in the Redwoods and interacting with
logging communities, during the Earth First! Redwood Summer protests in
'90, that I determined that I was
going to finish the book, and did.
My Kesey book report was so involved that I eventually gave up on the
footnotes and bibliography, and instead of putting in a typical cover
page, I drew a picture of Kesey's face melting into a Steal Your Face with
the words LOVE in psychedelic letters above it, and the words "Ken
Kesey: Psychedelic Pioneer" also on it, and a psychedelic sugar cube
in the third eye of the Prankster. The teacher was blown away by the paper
and praised the writing but docked me all sorts of points for throwing out
the bibliography and footnotes and substituting my psychedelic cover page
for the conventional one, so I wound up with a 67% grade and eventually
said, "Fuck it" and took off with a delinquent to Colorado
during exam week, failing the class...
I never lost interest in Kesey or the Pranksters, though, and instead kept
all the original file cards and citations and read every new piece I could
find, compiling them in a few different folders.
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Fun,
smart, talented, original, incredible, caring, true...
Thank you Mr. Kesey.
We love you more than words can tell!
-MB
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When I got to the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics in Boulder, I
was required to write a thesis on an author and I decided, without much
need to consider the matter, to write it on Kesey. As fate would have it,
a series of events unfolded where the director of the writing program,
Anne Waldman, received a call from Ken telling her she would be opening
for the Grateful Dead at the '92 Field Trip. (He not only didn't ask, he
also told the press that she'd be reading at the opening.) So Anne went
out to Oregon and a group of students went with her. I caught a ride to
Boise, Idaho and went to the Nez Perce Indian reservation because I wanted
to see it first hand because I was hoping to incorporate a Nez Perce into
a story I was writing, and after a few days in Nez Perce land, hitchhiked
over through Washington, down into Portland and on to the Eugene area,
spending a couple of days at the Cougar Hot Springs. |
When the fateful call came that Jerry was in the hospital due to an
enlarged heart and that the Field Trip was cancelled, I checked the local
phone book, got the phone number for Faye and Ken's place, and put in a
call to see if Anne Waldman had come out. She had, and the group was
meeting over at a school house for a reading. I went to the reading, and,
later, over to Kesey's house where they did an impromptu Field Trip.
The following January when I returned to Naropa, Kesey had released his
first novel in 28 years, Sailor Song, and was scheduled to come and read
"The Sea Lion" and it was there that I got to interview him,
courtesy of a wonderful woman named Emily Hunter. There were a handful of
other weird synchronicities, such as sitting at a lunch table the day that
the Ken Kesey press packet arrived and talking with the woman at Naropa
who was in charge of publicity
and having her let me photocopy the packets entire contents.
And there were some letdowns, like the night I lingered too long in the
parking lot after the Autzen Stadium show and was supposed to go to the
premiere of Kesey's play Twister!
but was told that they'd exceeded fire marshall capacity and would have to
come back the next day (only to learn the next day that there would be no
second show) but mostly my long strange trip into Pranksterdom was riddled
with curious and delightful magic.
Kesey wound up coming to Boulder in '94 for the Allen Ginsberg tribute,
and I was working in Emily Hunter's office helping her coordinate the
conference along with the writing department, and was given the (paid!)
job of being Kesey's teaching assistant for a week long writing class he
did there and also putting together many of the logistical aspects of the
Ginsberg conference (which a few of us jokingly called Ginstock.) Kesey's
writing class was incredible, and he scheduled extra classes in when he
felt that we didn't have enough time to do everything that he wanted to
see the class do. I also got the opportunity to sit in with Kens Kesey and
Babbs talking with Ginsberg, a photo of which I later saw on the net, and
tape record most of Ken's press conferences and classes.
My Kesey archive has grown in leaps and bounds since the high school note
cards, but I still keep those as well. Additionally, Kesey gave me written
permission to read his novel "Zoo" which was his pre-Cuckoo's
Nest manuscript about beatnik life in the North Beach, and Zane gave me
permission to visit the University of Oregon Prankster archive when I was
in Eugene following Furthur '98.
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I left Boulder after Ginstock and eventually settled in upstate New York
to work with the New York Tie-Dye Mafia. I finished my MFA Thesis on Kesey
in fall of '95, just around the time that Garcia died. Two years later,
something really curious happened -- Happy Life Productions, a tie-dye
company that I was working for, got a phone call from Key-Z Productions
and was asked to work the Kesey booth on that year's Furthur. I
volunteered myself to go on the tour and work the booth for the simple
reason that I'd read most everything he's ever published.
The Merlin's Wheel Gallery (merlinswheel.com)
that I do with Mikio evolved out of that, as did two tours doing
the Kesey booth on Furthur. (The
tours are far more hellish when they are happening than in
retrospect, due to rigor and intensity of the vendor tour schedule.)
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photo courtesy
of
Key-Z Productions
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I think what amazes me most is that it has really been little more than a
certain kind of passion for the whole Prankster mythology that has
triggered so many of these synchronous happenings. The fact that the
Pranksters were inspired by Marvel Comics super heroes gave me a real
affinity for them in high school. Also, I really enjoyed the fact that
they approached the heavy issues with humor and tried to create art from
it rather than just spout rhetoric.
In many ways, the Prankster trip has always been the central kernel
of my journey on the Golden Road. The
Pranksters opened a window for me that pointed forward to the future and
backwards to the past -- turning me on the Grateful Dead experience even
as it gave me a reference point for accessing the Beat literature. And it
helped me to realize how far one can go just on a dream, and in the case
of the Pranksters, the dream was (and is) about creating rather than
destroying, and, above all else, about keeping a sense of humor in one's
creations. |
One final thought: when Kesey came to Boulder to read the Sea Lion, I
approached him with some books to sign. Additionally, I had a copy of the
term paper that I'd written in high school. I handed it to him, he gave me
a curious look and I explained what it was and he signed the drawing that
I put on the cover (with the Kesey face melting into a Steal Your Face
with the sugar cube on the third eye) by drawing a thought bubble (comic
book style) coming out of the head with the words "OH MY GOD! AM I
KEN KESEY?"
He was, is and forever will be.
In our hearts and Not Fadin' Away...
Matthew Rick/ Shady Backflash (Legion Of Sufficiently Twisted)
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
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.
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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.
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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.
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friends are few
and life ephemeral as dew
on buttercups untrod
to Ken Kesey
-P.S. |
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.
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| Submitted
by David W. (a.k.a. Gone Are the Days)
I think continually of those who were
truly great.
Who, from the womb, remembered the soul's history
Through corridors of light where the hours are suns,
Endless and singing. Whose lovely ambition
Was that their lips, still touched with fire,
Should tell of the spirit clothed from head to foot in song.
And who hoarded from the spring branches
The desires falling across their bodies like blossoms.
What is precious is never to forget
The delight of the blood drawn from ancient springs
Breaking through rocks in worlds before our earth;
Never to deny its pleasure in the simple morning light,
Nor its grave evening demand for love;
Never to allow gradually the traffic to smother
With noise and fog the flowering of the spirit.
Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how these names are fêted by the waving grass,
And by the streamers of white cloud,
And whispers of wind in the listening sky;
The names of those who in their lives fought for life,
Who wore at their hearts the fire's center.
Born of the sun, they traveled a short while
towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honor.
-- Stephen Spender
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Submitted
by Erik O...
I had always marched to a different drummer, from the time I was born.
Eventually however, I fell into the whole popular, get chicks, and be
the big shot game that most of us fall into. fortunately,
the curiosity remained, and in 10th grade I found myself smoking mad
reef, and experimenting with other substances. These
wonderful things made me open-minded enough to start
listening to Phish, the Grateful Dead, and so on with many groups.
It also got me to stop listening to rap, and give up the
thug-a-wear clothes and huge shiny chains for tie-dies, hemp, clown
pants, clogs, sandals, jester hats and so on. My interest
in the 60s grew, as my interest in the more powerful
psychedelics. In 11th grade we studied the 60s, so we read One
who Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and learned a bit about Ken.
My interest in the Dead, 60's and LSD prompted me to read,
re-read, re-re-read and keep on reading The Electric Kool-Aid
Acid Test. I really grooved on the stuff they were doing
and believing in. Not too long ago, I gave into my year long
desire to see whacked out stuff, and experience the experience that
was the basis of the Prankster's beliefs. As Kesey would
say, I got zonked out of my gourd. Weirdly, after those 2
groovy experiences I completely understood everything Kesey and the
Pranksters were about. Despite how well I thought I knew before,
I wasn't truly into the pudding until that experience. I
feel a comradery with Ken and his Merry Pranksters, and whether
he would like to admit it, Ken is a true teacher and helped show me
the true path that we should all be on.
Unfortunately I won't be able to meet you and Jerry until I pass on to
the never-ending trip as well, but I seem to feel your presence
and
approval. I will always be on the bus, and always go
FURTHUR, thanks in a big part to Ken, the Pranksters and the
Dead.
Peace. |
| Submitted
by M David Grindstaff, a.k.a. Stoney
I first met Ken's brother Chuck, back
in 1978 at the original creamery in Springfield, Oregon. I showed Chuck
some of my artwork one time (I was still a 23 year old student back
then!) and we all (Ken, Chuck and another person) went out to the side
of the building and looked at the very old mural that was already there.
I hesitated to repaint it because the piece was still pretty trippy even
though quite ragged in places from chipping and fading. I really did not
realize who ken was at the time since I only had read about him and
never expected an older guy. I guess I was a bit naive and probably was
accepted more for that.
In 1982 I moved out to a mobile home near Pleasant Hill. I was asked by
my landlord if I wanted to help him store some hay for a neighbor and I
agreed to a sweaty afternoon of hard work which the woman of the house
rewarded with a wonderful lunch. I soon discovered that she had been
Ken's elementary school teacher and one of the things she said was that
Ken was a "rascal" but basically a good kid. This farm was the
next one past Ken's old converted home, I lived about 3/4ths of a mile
past it the other way, on Rattlesnake road.
Ken and I had a meeting planned to discuss a book project he was
considering not too long after that, Ken was pretty interested in my
past military experience in some US Army experiments and he had wanted
to get together but right about that time, Ken's son was killed in a
tragic accident. I told Chuck I was pretty sure we might all be better
off letting the issue rest. There were times when I occasionally ran
into Chuck or Ken, usually on the road from Pleasant Hill to Eugene
and one time in the grocery store. I was introduced to Ken Babbs and a
few of the old time Pranksters then (right near the produce aisle!) and
invited to Conde's redwood for a party. The local festival near Eugene
used to be really awesome and they were concerned with how the public
viewed the open nature of the event and the Dead were supposed to play,
anyway for whatever reason, the Dead decided to boycott the event and
play at Conde's. I am sure someone would through a rock at me for saying
this but I had family obligations and could not go, a decision I do
regret!
Ken was a very pleasant person and had a social conscious as well as
hard working lifestyle. I used to wave (or honk my horn) every time I
rode my motorbike past his small farm and saw him either messing around
with the old bus, his small herd of cows or maybe riding an old red
tractor wearing a straw hat. His experience with the Menlo Park V.A
had a huge effect on him and we related on a deeper level. Our common
bond was our insight into the situation that Leary, him and a lot of us
shared at events, happenings and certain Rainbow gatherings. I was
at the first "official" gathering in 1972 near Strawberry
lake, Colorado...and in the Army testing program in October of that
year.
There are a few more things I would like to say about what we discussed
in private but I am saving that for a while. I miss the guy and even
though we were almost a generation apart I feel like a part of his
extended family....What we all shared is symbolized by that old
and faded mural on the Creamery wall, peeled in places, blasted by
weather and time, but still bright in places, a collage of events that
are somewhat obscured by time and the acid wash of politics. A bit of
patchwork encoded in an obscure pattern that has meaning to some- a
dream held in common like a collective vision. I will remember ken
standing on the ground with a shovel in one hand looking at a sky
covered with rain clouds and the sun breaking through over Mt. Pisgah
and the rainbow. Work and dreams, that is all any of us have.
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We would love to continue to fill this page with personal
tributes.
If you have something to add, e-mail
us with "Kesey" in the subject line.
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