On The Cutting Edge……………………..

It’s August and I’m pondering over the fleeting Summer, reflecting on the whirlwind of days gone by. I’ve spent my entire life taking care of others, healing from two traumatic events that devastated my parents and sent me into a world of rock n' roll nuances rather than a medicinal doctoral thoughts of my youth. To recover from years of rehabilitation and plastic surgery is to languish virtually alone yet find the time to pursue a personal muse and from there, dedicate life to the values of sixties Counter Culture and the music and subsequent musicians that defined it. As children of the often referred to “drug culture”, we prefer the pithy Woodstock Generation or Flower Children predicated on the basis that there was far more involvement with racial equality, protesting the war in Vietnam & political disparity as opposed to the sensationalism of “sex, drugs & rock n’ roll”.

An affinity to writing and taking images of those that mattered would send me off to various events of known magnitude, i.e., The Human Be-In, Monterey Pop Festival, Atlanta Pop Festival, Woodstock on Yasgur’s Farm and along the way, come to terms with my abundance of knowledge of historic homes and venues in Haight Ashbury and other demographic areas of the country. I never thought of how best to market myself as an historian of this fabled epoch in time, I just immersed myself in the perpetuation of an entire generation in hopes that the nuances of peace and the ability to co-exist in spite of cultural differences was always more feasible with music as the common elixir.

During those summers of youthful discontent I was fortunate to meet icons of the day like Jack Casady, Jorma Kaukonen, David Nelson, David Freiberg, Tom Constanten, Nancy Nevins, David & Linda LaFlamme, and the orchestrator and musical magician of The Summer of Love, Chet Helms. Prior to his demise in 2005, Chet warned m that calls would abound after his death and to prepare myself for reference calls and links, images and questions as to how to correlate festivals with the remnants of those bands from the halcyon days of The Fillmore West, The Matrix and The Avalon Ballroom. With two Degrees from Indiana University and well versed in American History and perhaps journalism, it seems as if a myriad of opportunities would come my way but, it hasn’t happened yet and I wonder if my niche on this planet is to just document the most violent, decadent yet romanticized decade known to mankind.

I cherish those friendships of the past and I know that Chet lives vicariously through me and TC is and will always be my brother from a different Mother but those aren’t the pivotal ties that bind for me.

Without my friends from thirty-five years ago, i.e., David Modica & Mike Stewart, all this knowledge would be for naught. The same accolades and kudos for the love of my life, Sharon Brown, without any of these three, I doubt that the proverbial light would still be shining at the end of the tunnel.

The dynamics of these three are inclusive of ethics, dedication, dignity and consistency. I have many friends across the land but these are my greatest assets and will always be that regardless of demographics.

What we do holds a reverence for the music, images that allow all to digress to a more carefree point in our lives when the music helped to pattern our lives. These images are augmented with text that rarely replicates the songs chosen for any given performance but more on the rapport, the energy and esthetics that exude from the musicians.

At times humility and arrogance are eschewed by those who know little in reference to history of bands and my patience is not always stellar in those scenarios so, I listen to Dave, Mike and especially Sharon, all of which is an amalgam etched in ethos of some perceive as a tawdry vocation. Perhaps my decision to remain active in my personal odyssey , my sojourn that began shortly after the military long ago is a mistake in the eyes of others but as one of the few reigning scholars of The Golden Age, it becomes essentially impossible for me to relinquish the title to others who have ascertained their knowledge from books and movies. Mike Stewart goes far beyond the definition of generosity, he is that great Samaritan of noted folklore and eventually the music genre will be better served based on his love of the art. Dave is the same, he toils with a skill that would mark him for instant success if not obscured by living in the Midwest. These are the pillars of my foundation, my friends and along with “The love of my life”, make me see that it isn’t about the money, nor is it about the fame, it’s actually all about my personal tourney in life, my gift to those that mattered and for those who have maintained at least a modicum of their ability and continue to play. These are the important people for me, they inspire, cajole, patronize and critique when needed and in my life, spattered with harrowing episodes and opportunities to escape The Four Horsemen, it is because of them that I do what I do. When love is thrown into the equation by the perennial “flower” of one’s life, that is as good as it gets. Amidst the numerous debts in one’s life, I owe only a given few, that being Dave, Mike and Sharon, all beneficial to me as I weave my own tapestry of a sordid life.

It’s a bright, sunny day, August 4th 2008 and thoughts of Chet, the apex of popularity in The Haight and what could have been seem to be whirling from the recesses of my mind. With these three, a more prohibited chance seems more likely for me than others.

It’s early but I see a need for a toast to my friend Chet Helms, to those that matter, Mike & Dave & TC and to Sharon for allowing me to continue my dream. The wheel continues to turn………. The "Magic" is in those that believe…….
Cheers
Don Aters - 2008

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	On The Cutting Edge…………………….. It’s August and I’m pondering over the fleeting Summer, reflecting on the whirlwind of days gone by. I’ve spent my entire life taking care of others, healing from two traumatic events that devastated my parents and sent me into a world of rock n' roll nuances rather than a medicinal doctoral thoughts of my youth. To recover from years of rehabilitation and plastic surgery is to languish virtually alone yet find the time to pursue a personal muse and from there, dedicate life to the values of sixties Counter Culture and the music and subsequent musicians that defined it. As children of the often referred to “drug culture”, we prefer the pithy Woodstock Generation or Flower Children predicated on the basis that there was far more involvement with racial equality, protesting the war in Vietnam & political disparity as opposed to the sensationalism of “sex, drugs & rock n’ roll”. An affinity to writing and taking images of those that mattered would send me off to various events of known magnitude, i.e., The Human Be-In, Monterey Pop Festival, Atlanta Pop Festival, Woodstock on Yasgur’s Farm and along the way, come to terms with my abundance of knowledge of historic homes and venues in Haight Ashbury and other demographic areas of the country. I never thought of how best to market myself as an historian of this fabled epoch in time, I just immersed myself in the perpetuation of an entire generation in hopes that the nuances of peace and the ability to co-exist in spite of cultural differences was always more feasible with music as the common elixir. During those summers of youthful discontent I was fortunate to meet icons of the day like Jack Casady, Jorma Kaukonen, David Nelson, David Freiberg, Tom Constanten, Nancy Nevins, David & Linda LaFlamme, and the orchestrator and musical magician of The Summer of Love, Chet Helms. Prior to his demise in 2005, Chet warned m that calls would abound after his death and to prepare myself for reference calls and links, images and questions as to how to correlate festivals with the remnants of those bands from the halcyon days of The Fillmore West, The Matrix and The Avalon Ballroom. With two Degrees from Indiana University and well versed in American History and perhaps journalism, it seems as if a myriad of opportunities would come my way but, it hasn’t happened yet and I wonder if my niche on this planet is to just document the most violent, decadent yet romanticized decade known to mankind. I cherish those friendships of the past and I know that Chet lives vicariously through me and TC is and will always be my brother from a different Mother but those aren’t the pivotal ties that bind for me. Without my friends from thirty-five years ago, i.e., David Modica & Mike Stewart, all this knowledge would be for naught. The same accolades and kudos for the love of my life, Sharon Brown, without any of these three, I doubt that the proverbial light would still be shining at the end of the tunnel. The dynamics of these three are inclusive of ethics, dedication, dignity and consistency. I have many friends across the land but these are my greatest assets and will always be that regardless of demographics. What we do holds a reverence for the music, images that allow all to digress to a more carefree point in our lives when the music helped to pattern our lives. These images are augmented with text that rarely replicates the songs chosen for any given performance but more on the rapport, the energy and esthetics that exude from the musicians. At times humility and arrogance are eschewed by those who know little in reference to history of bands and my patience is not always stellar in those scenarios so, I listen to Dave, Mike and especially Sharon, all of which is an amalgam etched in ethos of some perceive as a tawdry vocation. Perhaps my decision to remain active in my personal odyssey , my sojourn that began shortly after the military long ago is a mistake in the eyes of others but as one of the few reigning scholars of The Golden Age, it becomes essentially impossible for me to relinquish the title to others who have ascertained their knowledge from books and movies. Mike Stewart goes far beyond the definition of generosity, he is that great Samaritan of noted folklore and eventually the music genre will be better served based on his love of the art. Dave is the same, he toils with a skill that would mark him for instant success if not obscured by living in the Midwest. These are the pillars of my foundation, my friends and along with “The love of my life”, make me see that it isn’t about the money, nor is it about the fame, it’s actually all about my personal tourney in life, my gift to those that mattered and for those who have maintained at least a modicum of their ability and continue to play. These are the important people for me, they inspire, cajole, patronize and critique when needed and in my life, spattered with harrowing episodes and opportunities to escape The Four Horsemen, it is because of them that I do what I do. When love is thrown into the equation by the perennial “flower” of one’s life, that is as good as it gets. Amidst the numerous debts in one’s life, I owe only a given few, that being Dave, Mike and Sharon, all beneficial to me as I weave my own tapestry of a sordid life. It’s a bright, sunny day, August 4th 2008 and thoughts of Chet, the apex of popularity in The Haight and what could have been seem to be whirling from the recesses of my mind. With these three, a more prohibited chance seems more likely for me than others. It’s early but I see a need for a toast to my friend Chet Helms, to those that matter, Mike & Dave & TC and to Sharon for allowing me to continue my dream. The wheel continues to turn………. The "Magic" is in those that believe……. Cheers Don Aters - 2008
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