Oh and here’s Tintin on the Moon sticker from Belgian pavilion on the aforementioned beloved VW bus. I loved transportation, geography and wanted to “go everywhere, gather stories and share with pals” which is what i’ve done since then #expo86
Note: i also have the corresponding poster – both a tattered original and a quality framed version thanks to JMV (photos may appear elsewhere in this archive).
Somehow, somewhere between my first couple trips to Japan (frankly it’s a little bit foggy after a plan to go to Mexico and live on the beach didn’t materialize, hemp fests, Dead concerts, flower sticks & hemp bag selling), I was in Logan, Utah (where i had spruced-up my Volkswagen bus “the Earthship” only to abandon it) where my Mom rented a rambling old polygamist house in the shadow of the LDS temple which she rented as a boarding house for various students plus a few randoms living in the backyard in a sort of tent/van village.
Logan isn’t my favourite place (so many cops and rules!) but, here I was and as such, I put together a party to reunite with old friends, share stories, collect lent items, play some music and hit up hot springs.
I designed this “aerogramme-inspired” invitation (meaning the paper was both an envelope and a letter), including various snippets of haiku art, doodles, maps and intentions, and floated them out into the world. The party was called “Far Far West” in homage to a Gary Snyder poem about going to Japan and my westward facing, Pacific centric geographic mindset.
Wasn’t sure what to make of it all as addresses were stale, friends were transient, memory scare, but, as it goes, worked out just wonderful as dozens of people came throughout a few days with folks camping out in the backyard to the chagrin of the neighbours who tried to poison the dogs (seriously!) as well as called the police who stealthed into our backyard campfire while we were singing along to Larry’s autoharp and Marty Kendall’s ceramic drums and, surprisingly, the police were rather chill about everything / they asked us to play a song, we did, they told us to have a good night, they left, we laughed and we sparked up another one and kept on going.
As it goes, there was a *loaves and fishes* vibes as my wonderful Mother put on big pots of curry and different stews with ingredients folks brought along, and we kept pots of coffee and exotic teas going in a truly freeform fun for all couple of days.
I recall the 2nd day included a trip out to a derelict hot spring on the side of a forgotten highway which had sort of been roughed in by a dangerous assortment of bricks. Nevertheless, we soaked, we played banjo music… and I have a photo of me and Sensei Larry to prove it (somewhere in the boxes there might be a few more snapshots).
I will say that I was surprised to see this invitation – both the original layout as well as a production copy printed on 50% post consumer recycled “redrock” paper and dutifully printed with some copywriting that somehow makes me smile still. (Note: included the layout and production versions for posterity and archiving).
Telegram announcing brother Bob’s birth some years ago today – sent by Dad (Lorne, which is also Bob’s middle name along with Olaf – our paternal grandfather) to Lucile Stevenson, our maternal great-grandmother living in Elmhurst, Illinois where our maternal grandfather, Robert Louis Stevenson, was born, sent from Eugene, Oregon (USA) where Robert (aka brother Bob) was born.
Among the information is:
weight, 8 lbs 5 ounces
Lauralee (our mother) is fine
parents are proud (naturally)
Continuing, here is me (right) visiting Bob in about 1983/4 in Logan, UT with aforementioned grandfather RLS’s truck in background at (divorced but still cordial at this time) maternal grandmother Isobel’s house – now occupied by a cousin who received in her will. At the time, Aunt L (and a few cousins) and Uncle M lived there as well.
Note: along with brother Bob and grandpa Robert, there is an uncle, cousin and brother Bob’s son (my nephew) with the same appellation (possibly others i’ve missed). Derivatives and nicknames ensue to keep all straight. I am the only Dave in the extended clan.
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 Canada and USA, moreorless (pending).