THE WORST SHOW I EVER HAD TO WORK

Back in what now seems to be some weird alternate Universe, I was a "Lighting Designer." 1969-1975, full-time and then "here and there" after that, with some "Roadie" and "Set Crew" work thrown in at various times. Every so often, we would be called upon to do some kind of "Benevolent Act" and work for free, to ostensibly fulfill our obligation to some yet-to-be-defined Higher Purpose and uphold our Hip-ness and sworn oath to peanut butter and granola, fringed Neil Young Leather Vests, Jesus Sandals and Long Hair. All that shit that we "kind of" believed in before we actually "grew up" and realized that it was all about The Benjamins. Or, as I tend to like to refer to it: The Enlightenment Of Greed and Avarice." (Not really, Silly)

This is some photo-documentation of one of those events. A Free Concert in a park behind Los Angeles' Dodger Stadium, "Elysian Park." It had been the scene of a few "Love Ins" and whatnot over the 60's and had a certain mystique about it, I suppose. It was also: "Right over the hill from the Los Angeles Police Academy." Swell place to have a Free Concert with all of its' chemically induced merriment and loud music, festively painted VW Microbusses full of half naked Savages From The Counter Culture,  etc., right? Um, Not So Much...

LAPD decided to send in some "Undercover Hippies" (Employing what I have to assume were Hollywood's WORST costume designers, EVER to design wardrobes and fake facial and head hair) to try and buy drugs or just keep a handle on exactly what sort(s) of debauchery and brewing MAYHEM! or SUBVERSIVE BEHAVIORS! might just be going on inside the park.

Anyway, a "Cop" got into a "Hassle" with a prospective "Dealer" and was hit with a "bottle or can or flower or something," drew his service weapon (probably NOT the best part of his new "Uniform") and fired into the crowd (One person of the Hippie Persuasion was actually grazed in the neck) and THIS is what happened:

 https://www.flickr.com/photos/29275503@N08/sets/72157652047126365/

I was caught up in the STAMPEDE FOR THE EXIT to the park and had to run, along with my friend, Brett, all the way to Grand Central Amtrak Station on the other side of Dodger Stadium, to call my Mom and ask her to call in two train tickets so we could get back to San Diego. She had to drive all the way to the Sandy Eggo Amtrak Station, buy the tickets and have them "wired" to us in Smell-A. To this very day, I, unlike Randy Newman, HATE L.A.. 

That Little Old Hippie/Punk/Capitalist Pig,

-Doc

A song from The Times. My Buddy, Michael Hanley, HATED this song. Michael had been a Drums, Keyboards and Monitors Techie for various permutations of Jefferson Airplane, Starship, etc., and had to endure more performances of this little ditty than should be inflicted upon any Prisoner Of War or the like. Poor guy... If he heard the first two notes of Jack Casady's bassline intro, anywhere, he'd either tackle the jukebox or scream at the person playing the song to: "Turn That Fucking Garbage OFF!" Any song that one has to endure, night after countless nights will eventually turn a Techie into a Homicidal Psychopath. Trust me. I speak from experience.

Grace was, however, drop-dead gorgeous back in those days, huh? Not that many people know that she'd been a High End Fashion Model before joining up with "The Jefferson's", as Michael often referred to them, collectively. I used to like to imagine Sherman Hemsley (from the TV show) in drag, as Grace Slick, which totally did not work...

And "Yes," I realize this is a hack cut and paste job. Deal with it.