Our Living Hippy Museum

Our Living Hippie Museum


Jon Presco

Copyright 2018


They got a Hippie Museum in Vancouver. When I first beheld it, of course I thought the theme was about me ‘The Nameless Hippie’. Last week I talked with Christine Wandel about our ex-roommate, Paul Fauerso.  She chuckled when I described the facebook photograph of The Fauersos, as ‘The Whitenoids’.

“I never saw a whiter group of white people. They are whiter than white! Who would believe Paul was into Jazz?”

“Paul reminded me of Baby Huey!”

We talked about his wife.

“Her family are Texas oil barons. She comes from money. I let her know how pretty I thought she was, but, she did not return the compliment.” says Christine.

“Aha! So she is the one that wanted to get rid of us. You had been Peter’s lover, then Keith’s. When we became lovers, she had to get you away from Paul. She had you pegged as the Band Groupie, a Plaster Caster out for more trophies.”

This is all conjecture and heresy. Will I be sued by Big Oil? I told Christine about Paul being a top promoter of TM.

“He”s an advisor for the Maharishi. He gave a terrible interview to Jake that sounded like a commercial for an Investment Company.”

“His father was a banker.”

I then went into a long explanation about why the Zone – not becoming famous – added to the Spiritual Mystic that was part of James Taylor’s vision after our acid trip at McClure’s Beach. James was into Meher Baba, and Peter Shapiro was into Yogananda. When I saw the cardboard cut-out of a Hippie playing a sitar, Peter came to mind. I owned a sitar. I also owned a 1957 Ford Fairlane that resembles the one next to the Hippie Museum.

But, what got me was the reproduction of the kitchen that looked similar to the one at 13th. Street. There was a Butler’s panty where The Band Bread was kept. When alas the band went to bed ‘The Night Rodents’ slithered down from their small attic rooms on the third floor, and quietly nibbled on Paul’s bread. We were very hungry. I survived on this -theft of the Band Bread.

“Paul complained about the food being gone days after he bought it! He was split down the middle. His band was not making the millions the other bands were making, thus, he could not give the whole Hippie Nation a giant “Fuck off!”

They were Berkeley’s band. The land of Social Make-believe had him by the shorthairs. The first Hippies made the big bands play for free in Golden Gate Park, but that didn’t last long. They went on tour and turned our Mystery into their money. We did not take LSD to become wealthy musicians. The pioneers got the Zone and the Dead to play at their Bohemian Art Happenings and Acid Tests. Acid was the star, and the first 500 hundred guinea pigs. When Bill Graham took us over, we became Paying Suckers.”

I explained this to Christine Wandel whose quest for Spiritual Truths was not as sincere as the males in the Zone House where a whole knew hierarchy – rose! Bob Hamilton told me there were claims of levitation, of the bouncy kind. If it was known Paul and Josie got rid of those Hippie Parasites, that were now everywhere, the Berkeley Acid Guard would be doing their inventory. This might affect ticket sales, that were not that hot. That I have to consider a Libel Suit, does not spell The End of the Hippie Movement, but a Huge Corruption of our Principles.

I just wrote Paul a Cosmic Check for One Trillion Dollars. My scanner is not working, so I can not prove it. Last week I contemplated sending Paul a check for $5 dollars to pay him back for the food I stole, so he won’t feel like a Sucker – anymore! Would $5 dollars vanquish this feeling? How many of us feel like Suckers? I was going to suggest he frame this Karma Debt Payment and show it off to all his TM frriends who are running a Get Spiritually Well & Rich Cult according to some critics. Wealth appears to play a big role in the Fauerso’s life. If I knew Josie had kin who made millions exploiting oil wells, I would have approached her at 13th. and said;

“Why don’t you ask your family for a million dollars to support this ‘Living Hippie Museum’ we got going here. We’ll get non-profit status so they can get a tax write off.”

Of course her response would have been;

“My family works hard for their money. No way would they support bums and freeloaders! They are upstanding members of their community and donate to Republican candidates. You got to be out of your mind!”

The reason why my pay-back check went from $5 dollars to a $Trillion dollars, is because I had sold myself short. You see, I am a Real Hippie Success Story. I was a nobody born in a family of poor nobodies. I experimented with LSD. I met a couple of manufacturers, and, I died on a massive dose of Acid, and went to heaven where I saw God! This is my meek and humble claim to fame.

After my accident, I moved in with the Loading Zone. I could barely function. I was afraid to go to the store and get cigarettes. I did not know what was to become of me. I was twenty years of age. My life was over. I was the King of Acid Burnouts! Somebody had to hold this title.

So, I wanted to thank Paul for saving my life, for putting a roof over my head, and, putting food before me, because, he correctly surmised I was one of the thieves. Did a part of him know I was a god-realized soul? Did anyone suggest this to him? The Real God in Heaven would give Paul a zillion dollars for saving his life, and, for being generous. Isn’t this THE IDEA in a nutshell and a breadbasket? Feed the hungry – and go to heaven!

The size of my check would tell Paul he achieved enlightenment by giving bread to a young man who saw God. About time he knew. Who can put a price on this?  What Paul needs to know  (and Josie) is that Lord Krishna himself used me as a vehicle to bring the God-head to this couple. It was a conspiracy ‘The Conspiracy of the Musical Bread’. I was the manifestation of Khrishna, long enough to bring Paul (and Josie) into the light. My holy work done, I went back to being a mere Bread Thief.

Because I was the artist in residence, this is stuff for a museum.  This is a Cultural Attainment, and Marker.  Consider those Cathedrals full of works of art.

‘They beheld God! They deserve all they can get!’

This morning I found a cultural tour in Vancouver of a strip club. My mother made porno movies for the Mafia, who were friends of Frank Sinatra. She was not paid enough to feed her four children. I have been telling Christine Wandel, Peter Shapiro, and Tim O’Connor, I am authoring our history. We lived at the 13th. Street house in downtown Oakland, that was almost saved and moved to Preservation Park.

Last week I was shocked when Tim O’Connor said “no” when I asked him if I could post some of our e-mail correspondence, out of courtesy. Tim and his father are in the public domain. Tim has owned an AMBITION to be a Hippie since he met me. He was fourteen. I was visiting my mother. My younger sister threw a party. She went to school with Tim and Dino, Dean Martin’s son. Tim latched on to me and my family. My mother took him in when his famous father threw him out. He found out from Larry where I was, and moved into 13th. I could not shake him. Many people came from all over TO BE a Hippie. They looked for The Source.

For years I have been trying to buy a book from Tim, and asked him which one was applicable to OUR history. No response! He said he was going to give me a book, and, was writing a new book. I asked him if anyone WE KNEW was going to be in it. No response. In studying his books, I see they are all about him, and, he comes off as a Super Hippie, one of the original. This is not true. I bet he does not mention me once, even though I showed him some chords on my guitar in my sister’s room where he was staying. Vicki had moved out. Tim says he was close to my mother. Is she in one of Hobo books?

I told Tim he could not use any part of our correspondence, and my copyrighted history with the Loading Zone. I told him I have not gotten one penny from the Real Hippie History I give away for free in this blog/newspaper, Royal Rosamond Press. I noticed Tim is very careful not to give me any feedback to some of the posts I sent them.

And, then there is Christine Wandel, who has befriended this right-wing writer just after she called me a “snowflake”. She never told me she was rooting for Trump. She has been looking down her nose at me, she eager to wear the title ‘Boston Blueblood’ again. Tim thinks because his father was famous, we are obligated to make him famous. Did his father drop acid? How about Christine’s father, who was a rich doctor, thus, Christine deserves to be enriched by our Hippy History, too. Peter’s father was a well-to-do professor at MIT.

While I am stealing Paul’s bread, Tim is being fed and housed by my mother. I know she called Tim O’Connor Senior up, at least once. Did Rosemary remind him he is still responsible for supporting minor child?

So, there it is! All these so-called Hippie’s want/wanted Josie’s people’s money,  so they can………………….?

This is a survey.

I am now wondering if Josie is kin to the Schlumberger family. I am kin to the Getty’s via Elizabeth Rosemond Taylor’s son, who I believe dropped LSD with Aileen Getty.  I read the poems of a man that divorced a Schlumberger. Tom Jones was introduced to me by Ed Corbin, whose father was the head of the Mayo Clinic. Tom and Ed met at Harvard. Ed did LSD in 1966. His father wanted him to be the President of General Motors.

“You want some money, Kid? Or. do you want to see God?”

to be continued

I just got off the phone with Ed. I reminded him of the time he asked a Schlumberger for this incredible toy train set they were going to throw out. His gauche request was denied. Again he lost face. They bailed him out of jail the day after Tom’s wedding. He got drunk and disorderly at a strip joint. Ed told me they had a radio single hooked up to the traffic lights that turned them all green, all the way home to the mansion.

Ed descends from the Kings of Scotland and Wallace. His mother’s family were members of Plymouth Brethren and founded the Evangelical Cult that controls our out of control President, who was born with a silver spoon up his ass, and NO CLASS! Trump is one of the most un-cultured human beings ever born. He does not own one original work of art. The Schlumbergers own a collection that should be a PUBLIC MUSEUM! What some people do for all – THEIR MONEY!

Of course they aren’t going to pay for a Hippie Museum, because that will be evidence there once was a choice in America, a alternative, that was not a detour from reality, a dead end. The real DEAD END is the truth auto-emissions, and the burning of fossil fuels, is destroying our planet. We earthlings are all going to die. Saving our world was a real big issue with us real Hippies.

Below is a photo of the Trumps employing science (NORAD) to fool children who believe in Saint Krishna Klaus, while at the same time telling them Global Warming is  science fiction. The EPA has been corrupted and gutted. All those greedy people that make millions from the sale of oil, could found  Museum Earth. But, God beat them to it.

I think Tim O’Connor uses our history to make money to buy more pot. He has to have his high levels of THC. I think he will kill anyone who gets between him and marijuana. Being a pothead is not being a Hippie. How much marijuana tax goes to saving the environment, and creating several Hippie Museums?

I just go an e-mail from Tim. He suggests I am being a Angry Blue Meanie. If he had asked me if he could put OUR correspondence in his book, I would have said yes, as long as it was not used as a door to my copyrighted material. We own the same history, and have the same mutual friends. This can be tricky, especially when he said “no” to me sharing our e-mails. It is alleged the Hippies invented the Internet as a means to share information for free with like-minded people, for their mutual benefit.

On the news, there is a Rush of the Poor to be where they money is. In 1966 and 67 there were only so many free resources, so many crash pads and free meals. How about drugs and medical attention. There was a population explosion in the Height. It was scary for the Trail Blazers, who fled to farm communes, or, built homes in the country for their families. Ed was a Hippie Homesteader in Yachats Oregon. He built a home and bridge. He had worked as an editor for Double Day, and wrote one of Eisenhower’s biographies.

If I had not written this post, no one would have. We are dying. I am a surrealist writer. I do not waste time proving I never took LSD. Why should I, if I am more than a historian of the Hippie Movement? We rejected the idea of CREDIBILITY.

Ed was put in charge of greeting Jack Kerouac when he spoke at Harvard. They got shit-faced drunk and were up all night. Jack bid Ed to speak for him;

“He knows me better than I know myself!”

The Dean pulled Ed off the stage, leaving Jack sitting there. It was a very poor speech. Jack has already spent the check Ed handed him. What did they expect?

Ed challenged me to a Tiger Woods video game.




Jack Kerouac Reads, Etc., at Lowell

Jack Kerouac presided over an evening of chaos in the Lowell House Junior Common Room last night. As members of the House’s tutorial staff flitted about worriedly, the author of On the Road, The Subterraneans, and a dozen other books read poems, offered observations, and sometimes just snorted.

“I’m not afraid of Mao Tse-Tung or Arthur Schlesinger, ’cause I’m straight Catholic!” shouted Kerouac, who was fresh from a hearty Ford dinner.

Kerouac said he thinks Emily Dickinson, James Joyce and T.S. Eliot were the greatest poets of the twentieth century, and Marcel Proust, Jean Genet and William Faulkner the greatest prose writers. But “Hemingway was nowhere. He wrote childish sentences, like Beckett does.”

Kerouac was drunk, but quite coherent. As students pulled the screens off the windows to get in, he traded gibes with Desmond O’Grady, the Irish poet of Adams House, and suggested that O’Grady should give the reading himself.

Cackling and smiling, Kerouac read poems from his Mexico City Blues and repeatedly asked for a glass of cognac. When his host, Albert J. Gelpi, Jr., instructor in English, suggested that they just forget the whole thing and go out for a drink, Kerouac gestured at the packed crowd and said, “But these people are here; they can’t all go to the bar.”

Finally, someone sneaked Kerouac a drink through the open window. Having won his point (and the sympathies of his audience) he read several more poems in a clear, loud voice.

President Donald Trump and first lady Melania Trump speak on the phone with children as they track Santa’s movements with the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) Santa Tracker on Christmas Eve at the president’s Mar-a-Lago estate in Palm Beach, Fla., Sunday, Dec. 24, 2017. (AP Photo/Carolyn Kaster)



Houston —It began in a storied architectural icon, and, last week, the story came full circle, in a modern architectural landmark all its own. Jean de Menil and Dominique Schlumberger met, in 1930, at a dance held at Versailles. He was an ambitious banker from a military family; and she, the daughter of Conrad Schlumberger, the entrepreneurial scientist who built the worldwide oil company Schlumberger, Ltd.

By 1931, the couple had married and settled together in the noble 7th arrondissement of Paris. During the Second World War, the family, including two daughters, Christophe and Adelaide, moved around France, escaping the advancing German troops. Jean left the country and eventually found himself in Houston, Texas, where Schlumberger’s American headquarters were located. He would take over American operations for the company, and his wife and their three children (Georges, the couple’s third, meanwhile was born in France) would join him by the early 1940s.

The family grew (another son, François, and daughter, Philippa, were born in America), and Houston became their new home. Jean anglicized his name to John, and the de Menils commissioned a young architect to build a new home for them. John and Dominique’s new residence in the River Oaks section of town was Phillip Johnson’s first commission, and the result was one of the first International Style residences in the state of Texas.

The house was filled with the art that John and Dominique had begun to pursue with a passion – their collection that would grow to include more than 15,000 paintings, sculptures, objets, prints, drawings, photographs, and rare books. European artists dominated the collection, from Surrealist artists such as Max Ernst, René Magritte, Man Ray, and Giorgio de Chirico, to Cubist and School of Paris painters like Léger, Matisse, and Picasso.

By the 1960s though, American, Pop Art, and Minimalist artists were being acquired, from Jasper Johns to Andy Warhol and the de Menil residence had become the salon of Houston, often filled with visiting artists, intellectuals, scientists, and civil-rights leaders. (John and Dominique were as dedicated to Houston’s art scene as they were to progressive politics.)

The de Menils cultivated friendships with many of the artists who visited their home, and they expanded their own influence by donating to universities and art institutions in Houston, including the Contemporary Arts Museum and Rice University, where they founded the Institute of the Arts.





In Reply to: Pick up your stitches posted by mortimer on June 04, 2001

: What does the advice (saying , phrase) “pick up your stitches” mean? I asked a friend and he said it was also in an old Donovan song and he got it an played it for me, “you got to pick up every stitch”. mortimer

I haven’t heard this as a phrase, but it might mean “Do it right” or “Correct your mistakes” or “Be responsible”–given the pop-song context, probably something to do with maintaining your karma. In knitting, if you fail to pass one needle properly through a loop of yarn in the row of loops you are transferring, one at a time, from the other needle, you have “dropped a stitch,” and this mistake shows as a hole in the sweater (potholder, afghan, scarf, cap). Picking up a stitch can mean doing it right the first time (not dropping the stitch) or repairing a dropped stitch later (by pulling the yarn to where it should go and anchoring it with thread).

Guided Tour of the Penthouse Strip Club

Secrets of the Penthouse tour, Vancouver, BC


Image Courtesy of The Penthouse

View Map

1019 Seymour St, Vancouver, BC V6B 2E8, Canada

+1 604-683-2111

Forbidden Vancouver is a Vancouver walking tour company that specializes in “off the beaten path” tours of the city. Secrets of the Penthouse is their tour of one of Vancouver’s most infamous strip clubs, The Penthouse, where celebrities (including Frank Sinatra), mobsters and showgirls have rubbed shoulders since the 1940s. Danny Filippone, son of original owner Ross Filippone, leads the tour.

The tour isn’t offered that often, so make sure you check for available dates.

This tour is for people 19+ only; no kids!

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1950s: The ‘50s Gallery

Experience the modest, hopeful dreams of post-war Vancouver.

The City of Vancouver’s once streetcar lined streets are altered and re-shaped to accommodate cars.

See the neon light up downtown when folks go to nightclubs and movies.

Pose for street photographer Foncie Pulice as he snaps portraits of the sidewalk parade.

Check out the jukebox and the private lives of teenagers.

Live the post-war dream in the neighbourhood of Fraserview, as veterans’ families move into brand new housing.

Sponsored by:


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1960s – 1970s: You Say You Want A Revolution

Young people searching for an alternative way of life made the City of Vancouver the hippie capital of Canada. Kitsilano, at the time a neighbourhood with cheap housing, became home to Vancouver’s radical youth.

The 1960s and 1970s were a time of contention as the city grew in to itself and now internationally known “radical” groups like Greenpeace started right here on home turf.

Groove on Vancouver, the coolest city on the Canadian coast. Visit the hippies’ communal house, try on macramé finery, and listen to great Vancouver bands from the late 1960s.

Look for your mom or dad, or yourself, in swinging footage of the Stanley Park Be-In.

Follow the action as Vancouverites – both hippie and straight – fought the freeway, saved their neighbourhoods, and changed the way city planning is done.

The sixties band The Loading Zone—featuring former Fairfielder Paul Fauerso—plays at the Sondheim in Fairfield on October 27.

At the heart of the ’60s music scene was the legendary Fillmore Auditorium in San Francisco. Here’s where the wild energies of the ’60s were brewing—where tripsters convened to hear Janis Joplin, Cream, Jimi Hendrix, Jefferson Airplane, The Grateful Dead, and The Who. And the house band that opened or shared the stage with them all was the Loading Zone, or the “Zone,” as they were called back in the day—formed by longtime Fairfielder Paul Fauerso.

Now the Fillmore returns to the heartland when Paul Fauerso brings his iconic ’60s band back to Fairfield for a one-night comeback tour this Saturday, October 27, at “Fillmore Central”—the Sondheim Center. This special event is part of the Fairfest series, now held as multiple music events throughout the year on the Sondheim stage instead of a concentrated one-weekend festival.

Paul Fauerso

Many in Fairfield know Paul for his beautiful tunes of consciousness as one-half of the band the Natural Tendency. But now Paul reverts to his rocker roots as he gets ready to share his original trendsetting musical origins. Background: The Zone was aching for a comeback and that came to pass a few years ago when Paul reunited with ex-Zoners George Marsh (drums) and Mike Eggleston (bass) to record an album entitled Blue Flame, featuring remakes of hits from their 1969 release, One for All.

Fast forward to 2018, as the newest iteration of the Zone hits the road for a special Fairfield gig. Paul will be joined by original Zone virtuoso drummer George Marsh, as well as by the soulful guitarist and Grammy Award-winning singer-songwriter Joe Reyes. Although the fire is still there, expect to hear slightly simmered-down versions of their originals as well as radical new takes of rock classics like “All Along the Watchtower” and “Satisfaction,” as well as original compositions including “Chop Wood, Carry Water,” “Separation,” and “Waltz for Lucy.” Paul is also working on some new compositions especially for this performance and promises some mind-expanding improv surprises, so get ready for some “ElderFunk”! Paul and Joe will also perform some of the lyrical songs Paul wrote during his post-rock phase, including “Cosmic Consciousness,” “Wholeness on the Move,” and “Keep It Simple.”


About Royal Rosamond Press

I am an artist, a writer, and a theologian.
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1 Response to Our Living Hippy Museum

  1. Reblogged this on Rosamond Press and commented:

    The Marbles are back!

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