The second part of the interview with Utah.
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Hey everybody! Listen to the first part of our interview with Utah Phillips!
Click here to download

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The Road to California……

I woke up in the Arizona desert long before the sun and headed down the darken highway. I was on inter- state 10 heading west, hoping to beat the morning rush when I crossed the state line. The sun was just peeking its head up through my rearview mirror with the lights of California twinkling on the hillside, when I had to stop for the California agriculture inspection. Today the booth was empty, perhaps because it was still early long before most of the motorist were even out bed. So I passed through and kept riding with the wind, knowing that soon my pace would be broken and I would have to pull over and wait through rush hour. After I waited out the traffic over breakfast, I found it turned out to be a beautiful sunny day. It was just the right kind of weather for me to sit back and enjoy the ride on the way to visit some new friends, well sort a new.
A few years ago some of my high school friends were planning our 30th high school reunion. One of my old classmates set up a web site to try and get the word out and get everyone ready for the” big to do “. Visiting the site I had an idea to start up a link to get everyone to share a few stories and dubbed it “The Cyber Campfire”. The “Camp Fire became a great on line meeting place and back in it’s prime attracted over 1200 stories. Reading those stories brought me closer to many of my old school mates and they made us all realize just how much we had in common.

One of my cyber Camp fire pals turned out to be a woman , who I knew as a cheer leader and friend of the high school band that I was a road-ie for back in school . As it turned out, she was sharing some stories that moved me.
In one of her post right after 9/11 she informed other people on the site , not to join the hysteria that was going on against the Muslim community and said that both she and her husband David were trying to safe guard some of their Muslim friends by accompanying them when they went out in public. Her letter touched my soul and I knew that I had found some new friends. At the reunion I found out that her Husband David was also a cool cat and after sharing a few laughs together, I told them that the next time I was heading out west that it might be fun to do a house concert for their friends.

Those of you who are unaware about the “House concert phenomena, let me fill you in. You see with so many folk venues closing and the crowds getting smaller, many fans decided to take matters into their own hands and just invite their favorite performers to play a show in their living room. It turned out to be such a great way to listen to music that the idea caught on like wild fire and now ” House Concerts” can be found all over the USA and Canada. It’s so easy that any one can do it. Just get a singer to find an open date when they are in your area, invite about 20 to 40 friends. Bake up some cookies or have a pot luck meal to share, move around the furniture and there you have it! You don’t need a sound system unless you want to have one. You don’t need lots of publicity, just invite your friends and you really don’t need a big space, as most houses can hold 20 or so people. The artist sometimes charges a door fee, sometimes it’s just a donation (Hey what’s the BEST Nation in the world? DONATION!” Sometimes they just sell CDS, but however you work it can’t be beat.

Now back to our story… So after many e-mails, David and Karen decided that they would give it a try and host a house concert.

It took most of the day driving and winding over the lush California hills to make it out to Santa Clarita, where Karen and David live. When I first arrived no one was there, so I thought it might be a good time to do some exploration of down town
Los Angles and like Balboa look for the Pacific Ocean. Well it is times like this, that I know that I am a Vermonter, as to navigate the freeways of LA is not for the faint of heart. In fact in Vermont, when we see more than three cars on the road we think that it is a traffic jam! so for me driving in LA is a living nightmare!

Well at first it seemed to me from looking on the map driving to Malibu would be a piece of cake. All I had to do was just drive down one freeway to connect with another then just get off at the exit and see the ocean. Hum. Easy I thought! Of course I did not count on so much traffic and congestion or the fact that the signs don’t really give you a clue where you are or where you want to go. So by a bunch of miscalculations and just dumb luck, I found myself and my camper being whisked right off the highway and headed into downtown Beverly Hills. Ok nothing against “Beverly Hills” but it’s not the place for me or my camper. And the way the traffic was not moving at all, I don’t think that any vehicle of any size, would have fun navigating the jam packed streets. So, after about a half hour of going nowhere, I did what any “hick Vermont” tourist might do, I made an illegal u turn in the middle of the street and got the hell out of there! After avoiding the stressed out drivers who did not really appreciate my “country” lane ” driving skills , I found my way back on to the highway and this time hugged the right lane so I would not miss my exit.

After a few more miles of highway driving I found myself on a narrow road facing the Pacific Ocean. Yep I had made it and now it was time to just relax and drive along the ocean up to Malibu.

On the way, I spotted a road that led up to Topanga Canyon. I remembered from reading some stories from Woody Guthrie about the magical theater up in Topanga, that Actor Will Geer (Grandpa on the Walton’s TV show) had built back in during the days of McCarthy’s Black list. It was a place where black listed actors and musicians could work and was a sanctuary to Woody. He even bought some land and lived on what he called “Pretty Polly Canyon”. The old stories raced through my head as my truck climbed the steep hill. It was quite a few miles till I saw a sign for Will’s old theater. I decided to take “Arnika” for a walk and poke around. When I walked down the drive way I came across many signs advertising up coming shows and even a sign for a “Hootenanny”! I walked over to a tiny wooden booth and found a young woman there talking away on her cell phone. I asked her if this was the same theater that Woody Guthrie used to play at. She smiled and said it was and told me about the up coming show that was a tribute to Woody, that they were calling a “Hootenanny”. She then told me to just follow the path and it will lead you to the old theater. So I followed the rocky path to a splendid open air amphitheater. It was just marvelous with a big grand stage set right in the woods. “Arnika” at once made her self at home on the stage, while I just enjoyed the view. After a few minutes we walked back to the friendly gal and thanked her for letting me take a peek. I told her that I was a musician and she asked if I would be around for their “Hootenanny? No I told her “I got keep moving but maybe someday”.

After a thrilling ride down the canyon I found myself back on the road to Malibu. I then slowly worked my way up the
Road past the ocean and all the mansions set on the hills. After I downed a good cup of java, I looked back at the map and found a back road, a short-cut that looked like it would take me almost back to Santa Clarita. So when I saw the road sign for a tiny road that ran straight up the cliffs, I turned my wheel and made a run for it. I had to down shift. Then went up and up and up and up the snaky little road till Malibu seemed like a bunch of dots against the mighty Pacific. The road itself was about the most treacherous road that I have driven on. It must have been built and designed by workers from Monaco ,for it is only in “James Bond” films that I have seen roads with more steep cliffs and drop offs all the way down to the ocean , then the one that I was now on. . There was hardly enough room for my truck, so when I saw that other cars were also driving at me, in the other direction my heart almost stopped! This road seemed to go on forever with enough curves and bends to get an even well seasoned merchant marine sea sick! Driving or really crawling at about ten miles an hour it took just about forever to finally make it back on to a normal road. But even though this road scarred me half out of my wits, it was a fantastic drive and I am glad I did it.

After battling the cliff hangers and the back roads of paradise, I was now stuck in bumper to bumper traffic on another darn freeway. Come to think of it, I think I made better time traveling at 10 miles an hour then along this freeway.

Cars! Trucks! Everywhere with no end in sight!

Oh I am so spoiled that I don’t have to drive these kinds of roads and in fact can work it out so I don’t have to drive in these kinds of conditions.

Well finally I did make it back up to Santa Clarita and had time to relax again and drink a few glasses of wine with David and Karen. We had a wonderful time talking over old times, and also hearing more about David and his work. Now as I said David is really cool, he is a writer and spends a lot of time kind of, lost up in outer space, writing stories for the Star Trek book series. He is a passionate writer and social activist just the right match for Karen. What a pair they make sort like Nitro and glycerin. Boy when they get together and work on an idea. “BOOM” they can get things happening!

Karen works in the entrainment world and has so many stories to tell that it makes me seem like I have a dull and boring life. Needless to say that with David and Karen you can spend hours just listening to them spin tales.

On the day of the house concert, Karen went all out and made almost a royal banquet for the occasion. With Karen
It has to be just right! So she prepared enough food to feed not only the kings army, but the royal court and any other hungry soul in the whole dang kingdom. And it looked as good as it tasted, just like a photograph in some grommet magazine.

For the concert, she invited a batch of friends from her work place and also some friends from her community.
It was a nice gathering and David made sure that after everyone had something to eat, that the chairs were set up for my part of the afternoon. It was a great show! I was able to sing and tell stories and sell some of my books and CDs then after a break we opened it up so others could join in and sing a song. My old friend Banjo Fred came bye so it was nice to have him take out his guitar a share a few of his songs too. The party went on till late evening then after a few more glasses of wine I went back to my camper to feed and walk Arnika and then get some sleep.

The next morning we shared a bit of breakfast and then I bid my friends farewell.
I never was one for long good byes so I tried to “Get out Of Dodge” with out too much fuss.

“I am just a music man, living gently on the land
and every night’s a one night stand, I hang my hat where ever I am
Cause everyone cries when the circus leaves town
Clowns ain’t funny when no ones around
Stars don’t shine when the tents go down
Yeah, everyone cries when the circus leaves town.”

Coming Up…………….. The Streets of Hollywood,

Rik Palieri
Koza Productions
66 Koza’s Run
Hinesburg, VT 05461
802 482-3185

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Rik’s Road trip continues…..

It was great to get back out on the open road. Flying down I-40 , I made my way past the Memphis congestion and took the blue highways through Arkansas. I had not been back this way since the days of my school tours back in the early “90’s”.
But it looks about the same as I remember; cotton fields stretched out as far as the eye can see next to old ramshackle houses made of wood and tar paper, muddy rivers flowing into swampland and rusty sandy soil all let you make no mistake that you are in the south. The pace of life is a bit slower, the people less in a hurry with time to exchange a few stories while sitting in your pickup in your driveway. Yeah I like being in the south. When I did the school shows here I spent about a month living here in Arkansas. That’s when old Jimmy Driftwood was still alive. Back then I would spend every weekend with him and his wife Cleda, in his little stone cabin in Timbo. Oh we we’d sit around their kitchen , drinking coffee and passing his old guitar back and forth. and sing for hours. But now both of them are dead and gone and their cabin is empty with nothing entering but the wind blowing through an open screen door.
The last time I came up here I took the faster route up from Little Rock, but now I have time, so I can just cruise along
the twisty roads and reminisce. After riding the switch backs over the mountains I finally made it to the town I used to refer to as my “Southern Office”, as I used to camp my van here for days on end ,yep old Mountain View.

If you were just driving through you might just pass it right on by as it looks like many other small towns. But if you look a bit deeper you will notice that it has a lot of music stores for a small town and quite a few showcase theaters too.
The big attraction is the Ozark Heritage Center that Jimmy helped to build years ago. But the whole town is also alive with music ! Right in the center of town in the stone court house square you ( as long as the weather is good) you can find just sitting around making music both day and night. Many folks have come to live here just to spend the rest of their life picking and grinning all the way to them pearly gates.

When I pulled into town there was already a small circle playing away. I knew that this would be only a short stop in my tour as I had to get moving on down to Texas in the morning, but tonight it was time to just pick the banjo with my friends and I did just that. One of my new picking pals is a funny fellow originally from up in Minnesota. Old white haired Len is a real cut up and a pretty slick picker too. His claim to fame is some classical piece that he chords a lot of them fancy chords too while he sings like a chicken ! Oh once you hear that Chicken song you just can’t get them clucking sounds out of your head.
While Len was clucking his head off, old cowboy Glen Orlen came down to the square to sing a few tunes. I met Glen on my last trip too and just fell in love his droll laconic sense of cowboy humor. Now you have to listen real close ,as he speaks kind of softly but oh it’s worth it. Oh just to hear Glen sing “The Castration of strawberry Roan” is an experince you’ll never forget.

Well after a few hours on the square Len and his wife brought me home to supper . After a mouth watering feast
Len pulled out all the crazy new instruments that he has been inventing. Oh you have not lived till you heard him play his toilet seat guitar I beded down for the night in my camper with “Arnika” riding shotgun in the back seat of the truck.

Well by morning it was time to head on down to the “Rainbow Grill” for some coffee and to meet up with another new friend
“Cowboy” Dan. Now Dan is another interesting guy , he is a black smith, a singer , storyteller and a bit of a lay- minister.
When you spend a bit of time together ,you find out he is a real deep cat . I love being with him as he like many of my pals of the road get me to really get me to concentrate on more of the spiritual world and the paths that we walk on this earth.
After my coffee mug was dry I said good bye to my friends and Mountain View and heading west to Texas

I’m moving On……………………

To Be Continued

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In my last post I left my story just at the time after the Americana Convention in Nashville.
After Rebecca was safely at the airport, I had a little free time before my house concert so I went over to see
the master of Rhinestones and Cowboy Culture “Manuel” over at his shop on Broadway. I first met Manuel and his family a few years back when I did a little TV interview with him for my show on VCAM TV. Since then we have stayed in touch
through the mail and every now and then with another visit. Even though his shop is filled with sparkly garments ,it is also like a meeting place for musicians, with almost kind of like an old country store atmosphere ,where people not only can look and shop but can also gather and talk.I had seen Manuel at the Awards ceremony so I thought it would be a good time to drop in say hello and give him a jar of our home-grown honey. I always bring a few bottles of our own brand of “Marianna’s raw Vermont Honey” to share with friends and as Manuel just loves honey he is one of those who is on my list.
When I arrived , Manuel was sitting in his office chair answering the phone. In between answering questions and giving out his pearls of wisdom in his friendly and courteous manner we had time to catch up on the news.
At the moment he was involved in housing some 130 victims of the latest hurricane that swept through Louisiana and Mississippi . When I asked him if they were friends of his, he said no, but he heard that there was a group of people who were homeless and needed some help, so I am doing what I can. I guess I should not have been surprised as the stories of his generosity and charm are almost as large as his native Mexico, but housing 130 people seemed like quite a task, but there he was doing what he could in his own way to help out. After exchanging a few tales from the road and a few laughs ,I left his shop to walk around downtown Nashville and gather my thoughts.

While I was sitting in my truck drinking some coffee , a ragged looking fellow came up to me and asked if I had any extra change for food. When I handed him just thirty cents he said ” 30 cents, I can’t even get coffee with that!” I told him , “Well It’s a start, you can work up to it ” Then I said ” So how you doing ?”"He looked at me with a puzzled glare and said “What?” I repeated , “How are you doing?, do you have a story ?, tell me about your life.” He smiled and finally relaxed when he could see that I truly was interested in his life. Then he told me”I grew up in Mississippi and worked there for years. But after I lost my job and most of family disappeared I decided to drive out here. Oh, that was my big mistake. You see, my driver license had expired and when I went into a gas station some cop just decide to check me out. When he saw that expired license he arrested me and took me to jail. While I sat in jail , my car was impounded and soon the storage bill was so high I that by the time I left jail, lost my car. Since then I have just been living on the street asking for spare change. So I asked him “well what do you really want ?” He told me , that all he wanted was a car a job and to go back home.Well I told him “This might sound silly, but the next time you are getting lost in your troubles, instead of thinking about how bad things are, try to picture yourself driving in a new car, through the parking lot of your new job in Mississippi! ” I told him that our minds are very powerful and sometimes can actually help us get what we want if we concentrate on good positive images. I told him how I have used creative visualization in the past and it has helped me find a way to reach some of my goals. He looked at me and laughed “Well I guess it couldn’t hurt” he said. Well I guess I better get going, “Wait !” I said,Then I handed him a dollar bill and said “You see that cup of coffee you were just dreaming of, well here it is !” He looked at me with a big smile and said Thank you, Thank you, then walked in to the shop to get his coffee After he got his coffee and waved , I pulled my truck down the road.

Tonight’s show was on my mind so I could not really relax . I needed a place where I could focus. I ended up finding a quiet little church yard to sit in my camper and work out which songs I was planning to sing . Tonight’s show was a little different as it was a little house concert called Highway 101, and was put on by one of the biggest fans of the old Ryman Auditorium .
I had met Glen on my last trip to Nashville and after a few phone calls and letters he invited me to be one of the guests for “String Bean Night” No not the vegetable, but the old banjo picker and droopy pants, comedian from the He Haw show and Bill Monroe’s first banjo player. Old “String” has been dead and gone for many years, but in the spirit of Glen’s club they were going to honor him with his music and also in stories told by some of his old friends. To prepare for this night, Glen sent me a tape of “String Bean’s” music. I learned about a half a dozen songs ,knowing that I would not be able to use all of them but
I wanted to have a more than I needed , just in case.
When I got to Glens house, in a town just outside of Nashville , I was amazed at the amount of Memorabilia Glen had amassed over the years. There were photos, posters, a whole room of recordings, guitars, banjos , an old mic stand and even a bench from the old Ryman, it was a country music’s fan dreamland.
As Glen poured me a beer we went over the out line for the nights show. First Glen would do a little BIO of String Beans life, then show a video. Next I would play a couple of his songs, followed by one of String Beans old pals telling some personal stories of what he was like in real life. Next there would be another video followed by more stories and then I would with a few more of his songs. After a short break then I would have time to sing some of my own songs.

As the party started, people walked in armed with food to share and slowly started taking their seats ready for the program to begin. What I soon learned is that most of the people in the room were almost as big fans of The Grand Old Opry as Glen was, and many had been involved with the “Opry” over the years. When I was introduced to one old gentleman I found out that he was the grandson of Uncle Dave Macon , The Dixie Dewdrop, and one of the Opry’s first stars and one of my all time heroes. In fact everyone there was very interesting and I knew that I was in for a great time.
I was right! It was in fact one of the highlights of my trip.

After all the stories and music of String Beans life and sadly his death were through, I was able to get everyone singing with some of my own songs and entertained them with a few stories from my book. After over an hour of banjo playing and guitar songs I ended the night with some songs about the current Iraq war. I knew that it was important for me to let them know that even though I was opposed to the war I supported the troops. I said one of the biggest mistakes that we made during the Vietnam protests was that we had not supported the men and women who were fighting the war. Then I sang them my song “Monroe” a song I wrote about a down and out Vietnam Vet. I then followed that with a new song I wrote called “Rose For Peace”.

I ended my show with this thought, “While many of our politicians are trying to divide us and keep us apart in groups of Red and Blue states , I want to make everyone purple! Yes we have to realize that we “American’s ” have many more things in common then our differences that dived us. The only way we can get our country back together , is if we can find common ground and talk to one another. While it’s true, we might not agree with every issue . But by talking face to face, we can try to learn from each other.

“Plant A Rose For Peace Today, and peace will come tomorrow.
Hope and pray for better days, without war or sorrow.
Work each day in your own way, return the love you borrow
we;all Plant a seed of hope and dreams , the road to peace will follow”

After the fun party I returned to spend one last night in Nashville, then after saying good bye to Bruce, Patricia
Forest and dog Phoebe, I open the door to my truck, “Arnika ” jumped in and we rode of down the highway bound for Mountain view Arkansas.

To Be Continued……

See You Around The Campfire

Totem Pole Rik

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Six Weeks , through twenty five States and over 10,000 miles by Totem Pole Rik

I left for the open road on September 6th. I had just come back from a week of shows in Germany. I was still not over my jet lag when I went to pack up my truck- camper “apache” full of my instruments ,clothes books and cds.

The plan was to drive down to Nashville TN, with my dog “Arnika” and my co producer Rebecca Padula (who also works in community TV) and do some video work for The Americana Convention then drop Rebecca off at the Airport and continuing driving a grand loop across the USA.

I found out from last year that It was too hard for me to do both the interviews and also try and run the camera , so this time around I asked if Rebecca could come and help. As we had both worked in the studio on last years editing for the events PR video it seemed right to ask her along.
Rebecca was also very keen on experiencing the convention that she had spent so many hours only seeing on her computer and was ready to go.
When I was planning out the tour I wanted to return and check in with many of my old friends in some of the towns I wrote about in my last book, and also do a few shows in places that I had never played.
To make the tour a bit more fun ,I also planned that my wife Marianna , would join me for the last two weeks making it not just a long tour but a bit of a vacation too.

So with my truck finally ready to go I picked Rebecca and we started the trip.
The first stop would be at my sister’s house , Lisa who lives in New Jersey. I knew that if we can stay the night there it would get us off to a good start and would be able to drive all the way to Nashville in just one day.
My calculations were correct and with the help of Rebecca and her driving skills ,we did make the trip in one long run.

We arrived in Nashville by late evening and stayed over at my old high school pals home. Bruce Michael Miller. Bruce was a great musician when we were kids . Now he has turned his hand to the craft of song writing and is trying his luck in the Nashville music scene. His wife Patrica also works in the music BIZ in a publishing house along the famed 16th avenue. They live together with their son “Forest” a very inquisitive a talented young fellow and their dog Phoebe in a happy little house just outside of the main part of town.

After spending the night at Bruce’s ( I slept in my camper , which is my custom) we headed off to Nashville to check into the Convention. We had arranged for press passes before we left so there was no problem getting our badges and big packets from the friendly reception desk greeters.

Now of course the big question is , What exactly is Americana ? Well that is a tough one to answer but I will give it a try.
According to legendary steel guitar picker Junior Brown, Long ago when Ernest Tubb was asked to describe his music he dubbed it Americana as he felt his songs spoke the music of our land. Later like many others he accepted the new label of Country &Western and the label seemed to almost disappear.Then a new croup of roots inspired musicians like , Steve Earl, Jim Lauderdale, Randy Foster , Cowboy Jack Clemments and many others started to wave the Americana banner again and now the label is alive a kicking again.

Today Americana is a warehouse of some of the most exciting music being created from the roots of Country, Rock, Blues and Folk. As you can tell I am also a fan of Americana ,so last year when the opportunity came to do some video for them I jumped at the chance. This time around with Rebecca’s help I knew I could get even more work done and we were both up to the challenge. Once we got our badges we went right to work doing interviews with just about every one ; Performers, agents, managers, radio DJs , panelist and volunteers. Some of the highlights were interviewing Country Song Writer and guitar wizard Marty Stuart, CD Baby’s Derek Silvers, CMT, Country TV , along with short clips by singers “Cowboy” Jack Clemmens, Babby Bare.We also attended many of the panels and parties and met a lot of new and old friends along the way.The days just flew bye and ended in a grand Awards ceremony at the old Ryman Auditorium, with guest such as Steve Earl, Jim Lauderdale, Judy Collins, Marty Stuart, Guy Clark, Solomon Burke, The Duhks, Radney Foster , Emmylou Hariss, Jimmie Dale Gilmore, Raul Malo, Mindy Smith, Billy Bob Thorton,Arlo Guthrie ,just to name a few. Needles to say to was a packed house a fun show with some folks dressed in their Stetsons and boots. It was a good chance for both Bruce and I to wear our fancy “Manuel ” shirts and jackets and even Manuel himself showed up ,so you know it was the place to be !

After the convention we also spent some time with Bruce and the band he plays with called The Delicious Blues Stew. We went with them and their families to one of their fun gigs at the state fair. It proved to be a great night for not only music, but death defying danger and stupendous feats of bravery as between the “Stew’s” groove, there was an amazing show where this carnival act entertained the crowds with stunts on high poles , wild rides in the air on a spinning whirling metal cage and best of all two motorcycles doing flips inside a cage while this young woman stood and touched their hands while they were inches from her head ! Lucky for us , Rebecca got it on tape or no one would ever believe it.
The next morning it was time to bring Rebecca to the airport and then prepare for my own show

To be continued ………..

“Totem Pole” Rik

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It’s easy to add your story to my blog, and I’d love to hear from you. Just click the “Leave a comment” link below, then type your story into the space provided (you may need to scroll down).

Have at it!

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**The National Hobo Convention in Britt Iowa**

For years now, Utah Phillips has been telling me about The National Hobo Convention in Britt Iowa. One weekend I made my way through the open fields of grain to check it out. What I found was quite amazing. Since 1900 the small town of Britt has opened it’s arms to Hoboes, honoring them with parades, a Hobo museum, The Hobo cafe, a Hobo jungle complete with showers and cooking facilities and even a Hobo grave yard for Hobos when they catch that last train.

When I arrived, on Saturday, this tiny town was packed with over a thousand tourists. There was a carnival atmosphere about, with a flea market, rides and games blocking up Main Street. I parked my rig near the Hobo Jungle and meandered down main street and there, in front of the Hobo Museum, sat my pal “Danville Dan, The singing Hobo” playing his old resonator guitar. “Danville” asked me to play a few tunes as he introduced me all around. It was nice to see such a friendly bunch of folks exchanging stories and songs on the street and, as we jammed, a crowd of onlookers started filling up “Danville’s “Guitar case with dollar bills. He said, “Rik” this is great. You do the work, and they put the money in my case.”

After a few more tunes, I headed out to see the parade. There was a long line of chairs around the parade route and I got there just in time to see the first fire truck send out it’s signal, welcoming every one to the 98th Hobo Convention. The parade followed, with a few marching bands and politicians in antique cars ending with the “HOBO FLOAT” crammed with Hobos of all ages. After the parade, there was a line up for free Mulligan Stew made by the boy scouts. A tasty soup filled with meat rice and lots of fresh veggies. The soup line circled around the town green and park gazebo where all the day time activities were held. After we chowed down it was time for the crowning of the Hobo King & Queen. Since the beginning of this Convention this event has been one of the highlights. Every year a new King and Queen are selected, by a show of applause, by the Hobos and audience. It was a moving event when the reigning king “Frog” and Queen “Minneapolis Jewel” said their farewell speeches and announced the nominees for this year’s election. Four men and four women were announced and stepped up to the microphones. Each delivered a speech about their philosophy and what they could do if they were elected. The audience applauded, then a hush fell on the crowd as the votes were tabulated. The MC called out the winners and pandemonium broke out as this years Royalty greeted their kingdom. The new king “New York Slim” a huge 8 foot African American and “Cinders” a small cheerful woman from a railroad family were given the crown (a straw hat with a cut up coffee can on top) red and blue robes and royal walking sticks.

The news media gathered around the new royal couple like sharks around bloody fish bait as the Hobo musicians entertained the crowd. I was honored by the Hoboes by being allowed to help with the festivities and pitched in with some of the singing Hobos; “Liberty” Justice, Bojangles, “Windy City” Tom, “Fishbones,” “Frisco” Jack, “Wisconsin Dell’s” and “Danville” Dan just to name a few.

Later that night there was a big feed and concert down at the Hobo Jungle. The Jungle is a field on the out skirts of town with a large open air kitchen and an open box car, to sleep in, which is available, year round, for traveling Hoboes. As this was the “Big Convention” the fields were covered with tents and sleeping bags. The town paid for the free meal and the hobos provided the entertainment.

Today there seems to be many groups in the traveling community; everything from older Hoboes who rubber tramp around in big RVs , young “punk-Thrashers”, who call themselves “Flintstones” and even a batch of ordinary folks who are just Hobos in spirit.

Like in most big families sometimes these groups can be at odds as some of the Hoboes are of a very friendly nature, just carrying on the old Hobo ways, while others can be a bit more raucous.

The evening’s concert started off with the older Hobos singing old songs and reciting Hobo poetry. It was family entertainment. Later, after most of the towns’ people went home, “The New Kids” took the stage. At first they sang a few songs to a borrowed guitar, and then sang old folk songs, unaccompanied. They asked every one to sit into a circle with hands joined and together created a “Sound Wave”. Everyone added some sort of note, wail, yell, bellow, or scream, producing a new age Harry Parch kind of music. Then they picked up bits and pieces of scrap wood and started beating them into tribal rhythms. One of the group sprang up with two lit sticks and did a fire dance, walking into the camp fire, bare footed, swishing the flames around his body. He then held up his head and spit a wall of fire into the air. The group then found the kitchen pots and plastic tubs and pails and continued drumming. Two men jumped up and started dancing around the campfire and pealed off their clothes. Soon a young woman joined them, stripping off her dress as they all danced to the throbbing rhythm of the drums. The drumming continued as the Police cars pulled into the jungle. The young naked woman disappeared into the darkness as the Police surrounded the campfire. The Police did not seem to know what to do, as now it was about 2:00 AM and there were fifty or more young kids still beating on their drums. The old timers stood shocked as they watched this new generation perform their Tribal rituals around the old Campfire jungle.

I sat there thinking; next time I’ll bring my Didgeridoo!

See You around the Camp Fire

– “Totem Pole” Rik

Posted by Rik at 9:22 PM
Filed under Reminiscing, Hobos, Announcements

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Dear friends,

There has been many a time that I have sat around the warmth of a night time campfire. I have been with Native Americans out in South Dakota, Cowboys up in the Saw Tooth Mountains of Idaho, in Hobo Jungles and train yards in the mid-west, with Mountaineers in the high Tatra’s of Southern Poland and with clusters of musicians from all over the world.

Somehow campfires just seem to bring out the best in people.

That is why I’m proposing this Cyber Campfire .

It’s a place where you can come to relax in the camaraderie of your friends, enjoy the warmth of community spirit and also share your own stories.

We often under-estimate the value of personal and family stories. But the truth is, long after we are gone, our stories live on.

How many times have you told a story about a relative who has long passed on? Sometimes it’s someone you never even met, yet their story has a life of it’s own as it drifts from one generation to the next.

So here is your chance to tell a story. It could be a real story, a piece of family folklore or even a story that you just want to share. All stories, songs and poems are welcome. As I’m the one starting this cyber campfire, I’m going to tell the first story. But after that it’s up to you to keep our story circle going.

Now you don’t have to be a good writer to join in the fun, hell you don’t even have to have good grammar, all you need is a little of life’s experience and have a story to tell.

See You Around The Camp Fire

Keeper Of Flame

“Totem Pole” Rik

Posted by Rik at 8:54 PM
Filed under General, Announcements

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