The 60's thing was in full force. I was hanging out in Modesto and making an occasional trip to San Franciso, going to the Haight - Ashbury district and all that entailed. What a scene that was in the 60's. It was very mellow and friendly, like you wouldn't believe. Timothy Leary and all that jazz? Oh yes, but not like now, with the really bad drugs and dangerous street scene that exists today. We'd park in the panhandle and head down Haight street, gong right into Golden Gate Park. We'd pass Hippie Hill, where on any given day, you would find groups of hippie chicks and guys, laying on the side of the hill, taking it all in. There was always a conga drum player or two or three, laying down a groove that lasted no less than 4 hours at a time. Gypsy looking women, dancing with barefooted children. Homemade outfits that looked like spun gold to the naked eye. The guys all looked old. That was the thing then, bearded guys with headbands and wire rimmed, colored glasses. Looking old seemed to add validity to your profoundness and the lifestyle pursued. You'd continue on into the park and walk through a tunnel that seemed to open up into something resembling a scene out of Alice in Wonderland. I AM not lying. It was really something. Beautiful. The flat top forest, a place where all the trees were cut flat at the top, gave the area a unique look. You expected to see a smiling Cheshire cat at any moment. Next to the aquarium was an outdoor band shell. San Francisco bands set up in the park, playing music for free. The Greatful Dead LIVED on Haight street. A very colorful venture, to say the least. The 60's were like that. Several months passed and I ended up in Fresno, California in a hippie commune on the corner of Belmont street and Thorne avenue, across from Roeding Park. A wonderful time. A bunch of young people living together and getting along fine. However, I do remember Willie Stone placing a sign on his mattress that laid on the floor in the corner. The sign said, "THIS IS MY BED." Basically, he was saying "stay the fock off it. This is not community property." Funny! Not typical of the hippie mentality at all. Although, very typical of the result of living in a place with too many people.    We played gigs at a place called the Marigold Ballroom, on Blackstone street. A young Armenian guy, named Harry Hagopian, helped promote the concerts. He was a bit of a "pied piper" for the commune, as well. At this time, I was playing with a group that consisted of Joe Torres on drums, Izzy Alvarado on Bass, Willie Stone on Hammond organ, and me. These were my buds and we spent many an hour playing in that basement on Belmont street, jamming for hours and hours. A wonderful time, really. Completely irresponsible, but great musically. A necessary thing in the course of a musicians life. At least it was in mine.   The Marigold Ballroom    Down at the "Marigold," we had a killer strobe light that had somehow, made its way to us from some airport. I mean, this thing would knock you down with purple wedges, adding color to the decor and the rock music that never ended. We loved it. Multiple bands playing, one after the other. A family feeling amongst everyone involved. When you hear the terms "Peace and Love, brother" nowadays, it has a bit of a "tongue in cheek," joke feel to it. It wasn't that way in those days. It was a heartfelt approach to living. A real community of young people with common attitudes. No "bad vibes" was a natural thing. Uncommonly different from the 1950's, when it was somewhat cool to be a tough guy. That attitude has kind of come back, just a tad." There were very few disturbances between those "flower children." Some, but not many. Here are a couple of pictures from the Marigold Ballroom, 1967.   My "Buffalo Springfield" look, with Willie on Hammond. Joe Torres on drums behind me.    One of the bands that played at the Marigold ballroom was called, "The Silver Bullet Gulch Band," or something like that. They had a drummer named Hank, who had a great bass foot and their guitar player, Bruce Conte, was doing Eric Clapton style real good. Years later, I heard that Bruce went on to record all the major hits with Tower of Power, including "What is Hip?" Even back in those hippie days, Bruce had it going on. A strong player.    Another good trio from Modesto was "Fried Dirt." Don't you love that name? I did. They were sort of our brother group from home. They came down and played the Marigold a few times, too. Doug Holroyd was the leader, guitarist and also singer. Here's a picture of Doug in "Fried Dirt." I love it. Photo by Dean Wright     From 8th grade through high school, Doug and I went to school together, although I was one grade ahead of him. Years later, he ended up buying Modesto Music Store from Hank DeCoito and ran it for a number of years. Doug WAS the keeper of the music torch in Modesto for those years, and he did it well. Although a business man, Doug kept the spirit of adventure alive for the young and "upcoming" new musicians in town. He now works in television in Eureka, California, but still "smokes" his guitar at a gig now and then with a group called, Mixed Nuts. Multitalented, Doug is a real original and has a heart as big as California. I feel fortunate to call him my friend. We have mileage together. Good times and good music. Here's a picture from a gig in Eureka, California a couple of years ago, when Mixed Nuts was on the same bill with 3DN.

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