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Hippie Digest: Spain Rodriguez – LEROY’S BOYS – Stewart & Winwood – Woodstock facts?

2012 December 4
by Worldwide Hippies

Spain Rodriguez, Artist of Underground Comics, Dies at 72
Spain Rodriguez, a cartoonist whose radical politics and hyperbolic macho imagery, all presented with sly humor, were influential elements in the rise of underground comics, died on Wednesday at his home in San Francisco. He was 72.
The cause was cancer, his wife, Susan Stern, said.

Mr. Rodriguez was part of a wave of artists — including R. Crumb, S. Clay Wilson and Bill Griffith, who created the character Zippy the Pinhead — who established the irreverent, profane, highly sexed, antiwar, anti-capitalist spirit of underground comics (often, in this context, spelled comix).

A voracious reader of comic books as a boy in Buffalo, he was highly offended by the Senate hearings that resulted in the censorship of comics in the 1950s, and his anger at the establishment never wavered. More…

5 Facts About Woodstock The Hippies Don’t Want You to Know
If there’s one thing hippies hate, it’s war. If there are two things hippies hate, they are war and doing things for profit. If we move the discussion up to three things, they would be war, money and 1980s Latin sensations Menudo, but we don’t have time to get into that.
Knowing that money and the pursuit of it is flower child kryptonite, you may be shocked to learn that the concert that defined the 60s owed its origins to some squares looking to make a buck. And not a buck for Tibet, either. In March of 1968, drugstore heir, John Roberts, and Yale Law grad, Joel Rosenman, placed the following ad in the non-hippiest publications of all time: the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times:
Young men with unlimited capital looking for interesting, legitimate investment opportunities and business propositions.
Since this was before the internet was invented, nobody read the ad with a heavy emphasis on the words “men,” “interesting” and “propositions” saving the men from the sort of gay escort service spam that will likely flood the comment section of this article. Instead, Roberts and Rosenman were contacted by Capitol Records exec, Artie Kornfeld, and hippie concert promoter, Michael Lang, with the idea of a starting a music studio in Woodstock, New York. When that idea didn’t pan out, the suits struck gold with the notion of a three day art and music festival. Pre-sold tickets would go for $18 (that’s $105 in today’s money, folks) and latecomers would have to shell out $24 at the gate. More…

Rod Stewart to tour with Steve Winwood next spring

LOS ANGELES, Dec. 3 (UPI) — British rock star Rod Stewart is planning a North American concert tour next spring, alongside U.S. singer Steve Winwood, AEG Live announced Monday.

The artists’ “Live the Life” tour will kick off in Chicago April 10 and will include 10 arenas.

Stops will include New York, Newark, Philadelphia, Boston, Montreal, Toronto, Atlanta, Detroit and Greensboro, N.C. More…

DANGEROUS DAYS WITH LEROY’S BOYS

Twenty-two…what would I do…past ties cut…no way back…newly wed…she was brown…Asian an
alien…and this was the south…dirt hard..spit mean…she was naive…and too damn pretty…to subject her
to them…to show her there safely…in a word no way…Mason who got me the job…agreed and warned
me…them bucks would eat her alive…and so I never let her…take me close to that place…perplexed she’d
drop me off by an isolated woods…then she turned around alone…driving that junkyard car…no matter if it
be…hot or cold…rain or snow…lugging my tools and a bagged lunch…a half mile hike from the site…I kept
her out of sight…of the wantonly wicked…scarred and unschooled…jailbird toughs…toting less teeth than
tattoos.

For a longhaired liberal…a dangerous crew…of the creepy callous and the crude…foul mouth cowards…and
pickup cowboys and coke snorts and card sharks…and sullen assassins…sadistic menaces…brooding
brawlers…and back alley crawlers…and one prize fighter who beat up ten Marines in a bar…and even a token
black…the others called “the spear chucker”…all of us having one thing in common…being browbeaten
and cussed out by the big belly bossman…the bombastic bellicose belligerent bullshitting blockhead bullet
brain bottom line Leroy…who paid us in cash after saying he deducted the taxes…only I discovered a year
later when filing…that Leroy had embezzled and pocketed our taxes…leaving me owing the feds and the
state…ruthless Leroy…who on a dust grit toxin choke dry day….never gave us a water…until I took it upon
my self to ask on behalf of the thirst of me and the others…prompting Leroy to unzip his fly and unleash his
cock…”here’s something you can drink”…the bad ass buffoon bastard.

Got interesting when…the youngest of this gang…a nasty wiry fucker…claimed I tried to throw him off the
roof…when actually I saved his life…as the punk danced and jigged the edge…showboating on the slick
wall plate…till he slipped and lost his footing…as I locked my legs around the truss…caught his arm…and
swung him back from his fall to death…landing him on my chest…slamming my back with all of his weight
against a steel brace fastened to the studs…shaken we got to the ground…where the ungrateful bastard
swore to his older brothers…yelling till he was hoarse…how I had tried to kill him…wishing in my mind I had
pitched him to hell…his stirred up siblings came at me with hammers and a blade…all I could do was cock
my arm…grasping my two pound claw unslung…when Leroy charged in…”god damn if you fuckers are going
fight on my dime!”

By then Mason was gone…I had no one to cover my back…boom times then…so I got Seth hired the next
day…like me…tough guy…and a thinker…trusted friend…skilled hand…then a funny thing happened…the
battling brothers got busted…for felony burglaries…stealing stereos and stoves…in yonder mountain
holler counties…but their snarling cousin remained…as mean as a rabid dog…I got so tired of his cussing
and his threats…it crossed my mind many times to do him…but Seth was right…he wasn’t worth the
trouble…besides I wasn’t fit to dare the devil…after a crane slammed into me a stack of rafters…and
pulverized my shoulder…after the kick back drag of a skil saw serrated my thigh…still I was all right…all
fight…nothing set me off…nobody put me down…though Seth cracked me up…telling me that out of them
all…I was the scary guy.

Then for a loud cold Christmas…in a blank dark room…some crooked contractors threw a year end
bash…with a shit load of booze…and hard core porn…and two ugly ass hookers…and a monstrous deli platter
that I was hungering for…until one of the rednecks…said the mayo reminded him of the cum messing in the
smut flicks…and so we were wasted…laboring the day after…me alone with that cockeyed cousin…stumbling
around behind me…in the attic of bones…from which he twisted and fell…to a racket of spilled buckets…his
skull striking the concrete of the unfinished subfloor…then hell hit with commotion and belated rescue…after
no one could find a phone…it was already too late…he was as dead as a Yukon battery…but there were no
tears shed by me…only whispers of others and suspicions…amounting to nothing…relieved for the time
being…till Seth and me split for the Keys…and it seemed…there was no one left…who would devour her
now…wondering if I had become..like those thugs on the run.

By L DOUGLAS ST OURS

January 2011

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