More: Interview with The Wailers and others at Komasket Music Fest, near Vernon, BC, Aug. 2010.
While i started enjoying haircuts when i found a barber shop which also offered libations, good tunes, pinball and the like, since “the illness” I made a list of things I can do which involves sitting down, but gets me out of the house, and leaves me with a feeling of satisfaction. These include: making scrapbooks, seeing matinée movies, sitting in parks under a tree, getting my beard professionally trimmed (rather than chopping at it myself) plus trim up the haircut,… as well as pedicures documented elsewhere.
While rambling, i like to seek out the hole-in-the-wall, no fuss, traditional barbers and enjoy a leisurely visit. Its hit or miss sometimes but ya know, hair grows back right?
Sometimes, not always, i grab a snap with the barber or the shop or me before and after… sometimes i don’t so you won’t see those. Oh sometimes i recall names and/or locations, this is not meant to be comprehensive, just amusing and vaguely documentary.
This assortment features barbers in international locations (meaning not Canada and USA), moreorless (pending).
High in Jamaica, Uncle Weed visits Black Ras’ abundant mountain growfield to discuss “swamp weed” grown in morass versus “hard land weed” grown in volcanic soil with bat guano, plus varieties of ganja strains – both domestic and imported. Plus background about his family teaching him the ways of growing most anything and living an Ital lifestyle.
Head to the hills for: Humble Boys Hard Land Weed – Choogle On with Uncle Weed #123 (.mp3, stereo, 30MB, 14:44)
Embarking on meandering natural healing journey around Asia, Indian sub-continent, Arabia, Mediterranean, across Canada, US rocky mountain canyons, and to Grateful Dead anniversary shows while emerging from a fog after chronic and complex illness diagnosis resulting in lost years due to prescription meds.
Hit the golden road for: Field Notes from Elsewhere – Choogle On! #121 (160k .mp3, 105MB, 1:03:20)
Now, rebuilding after period of de-identification, I’m sharing stories into the world again – plus riffs about upcoming dispatches, other audio/video projects, annoyance about former prosecutors / cops / “carpetbaggers” getting into nascent legal cannabis industry… and hence, the importance of recognizing hemp pioneers.
Background soundscapes from a balcony in Istanbul, trail in Nepal, cafe in Rome, Whiskey Hickon Boys (from Utah) in Chicago and others in Grateful Dead lot + Lazarus by The Black Tories.
And i misspoke saying “Desolation Row” when i obviously meant “When i Paint my Masterpiece” – drrr
High up a mountaintop of ancient uplifted coral, unaccompanied by bodyguards, escalades or a single Marley (unlike “reincarnated” snoop), I found a happy place– surrounded by thousands of little ladies. I squeezed the buds to savour the moment and smells of mangos and papayas, limes and skunks. Snapped with the usual analogue disposable camera. Note audio recorder in hand. My wanders are different now. I still wonder.
Snapped with a single-use disposable camera
#Jamaica #Ganja #Weed #UncleWeed #WestMoreland #Legalization #Natural #Organic #Guano #Podcast #ChoogkeOn #Wander #Wonder #Cannabis #Activist #Education #Pioneer
From a cabin in Jamaica comes a spoken word song made from loops, samples and layers of spoken and sorta-sung vocals inventing stories about a workers’ boarding hall which burned down years back and the foundations sits, still.
Years ago, the Humble Boys Club was a stalwart on this lost coast, now just the foundation remains.
NOTE: Hear Humble Boys Club as a spoken song
Humble Boys Club
Tucked in a south Westmoreland
a coastline bay
left to sequels of buccaneers
and earth core miners
The hard men & the Maroons
sequestered in the mountains
look long back behind, below
to forgotten sugar cane and ash
Rivers run past the opening
to the very middle of the soul
the water springs to pull you deeper
into the limestone and the very molten core
We are only Humble Boys
No poncies in our club
Overproof rum, bunks and porridge
at the end of the log flume runs
They left the coral
jagged rock to the hard men
and his schemes
the wise ones went foreign
made money and split
While the rest cemented in
tied a cabin to the very firma
which tears your feet and soul
Re-barred lashings to anchor
from impending storms
Buaxite, guano, timber cane.
And Human power.
You are a just a humble boy
toiled the sound, club burns down
Broken rubble is not your pillow
and the dust never blows away
We are just humble boys
toil the sandiness, bunkered
down huddled in, porridge with the other men
They’ll disappear into the green
disappear from everything
but remnants of life.