You learn a lot at the St. Michael's Conference, and one of the things that I learned was that one of our faculty members had been a dancer for the Airplane at the Fillmore. She's a Franciscan now, but back then was in with Grace Slick and the gang.
She told me she'd been invited to join a commune, somewhere in San Francisco, but turned the offer down when she discovered that she would have been the only member with a car, a job, and a check book.
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| Grace Slick |
This illustrates the old adage that Hippies are thieves, and when you run the numbers they don't add up.
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| Standing on the Runway Waiting for Takeoff |
Speaking of the Airplane, the liturgy can be compared to a flight of planes that sets off on a mission. Sometimes one or more of the planes gets lost and starts to spiral out of control, who knows where they will end up. Perhaps they will disastrously make a wreckage of not only themselves, but the entire mission.
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| Rescue the Mission |
Then, when the craft lose altitude and threaten to bring the whole endeavor of the Mass to a groaning, grinding, inchoate crash, cool hands are needed and the mission needs to be brought back on track.
This can be done.
As you were, carry on,
LSP
7 comments:
I have a friend who was there with Grace Slick and actually had a printing business at Haight and Ashbury. He seems to have had a good time, but that scene came and went. Sure it endures in places like Berkeley and Austin, cheered on by evil clowns, wiccans, trannies and other characters. But who wants their sweet little girl to grow up to be Grace Slick? The story goes that Grace (a nympho) had an an insatiable appetite circa 1967 and the band would let you hang out if you'd service Grace. Joplin, Slick and the rest of the Summer of Love folks mingled with the common folk, got loaded and walked the walk...I guess. In their communal lifestyle, they were parasites, but such was the nature of "communists". I'm not saying Grace was a genuine communist, she just liked living in communes and dropping acid, and singing about the White Rabbit. Don't you want somebody to love?
I visited Haight Ashbury almost two years ago. The place was run down, filthy, smelly and disgusting. A complete and total, unmitigated dump. My family and I had to step over drunken, stoned passed-out hippies on the sidewalk, laying in puddles of their own puke, urine and other materials not suitable for dinner table discussion.
And that was the NICER part of Haight Ashbury. Just goes to show you how communism works out in the end.
Fredd --- sort of like Baltimore, Detroit, etc?
Nah, Reverend. Quite a difference in those cold weather cities, vs the temperate climate of San Francisco area.
In SF (and specifically Haight-Ashbury), bums and hippies, much like fleas, mosquitos and ticks, can survive year-round because there is no hard freeze to eliminate the weak and slothful. Yes, hippies and bums have levels of competence.
In Detroit and Baltimore, the more slothful hippies and bums that don't prepare for the cold tend to end belly up come the thaw in the Spring. Not so in SF. Accordingly, the bum and hippie populations have never been thinned, and over population of the scumbag species is clearly evident.
Hope this little lecture was helpful, Reverend.
LL, I see you've been promoted to "Reverend," and I have to say, you'd make a good Vicar General.
Interesting Grace Slick background. Not my generation, but I think she had an interesting voice. As for the ethics of the Summer of Love... well, I'm sure it was all fun and games until you had to visit the VD clinic. Or get an abortion. Or both. And all on someone else's dime.
Very helpful lecture, Fredd.
Sorry for lecturing to the wrong guy, Reverend. LL actually needs no lecturing, he knows everything. Just ask him, he'll tell you that this is true.
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