Who are you?

Those of us who've had the good fortune to see a performance of "Love, Janis", a show based on the book by Janis Joplin's sister, were no doubt wowed by her vocal impersonator and her alter-ego, an introspective, Texas girl. It is a musical joy ride of a tragedy, to be sure, but it is so much more.

Mounted in the psychedelic milieu of Haight-Ashbury circa 1967 to 1970, it's a virtual time capsule, expounding the verisimilitude of those mind-blowing years. Her saga is a brief, yet fitting, preface, skirting over the high-lights, so that the listener might recall where he or she was at, man, way back when. Just a triangulation of the truth to illuminate those tumultuous times.

The essence of that incense boils down to a crystal-clear question: what were you then, and who are you now? Where are the punctuation points in your perspective? Could you have imagined the self of today thirty or more years ago, far-out, man, in every sense of the term, from the fabled future you looked forward to?. When some of us came down from that trip, it was a bummer.

The mantra had been non-conformity to the Nth degree. Big hair, small world. The latest LP and a groovy high. The measure of our worth was the size of our Cuban heels and length of our locks. Looking back, it's tempting to mock, but that's taking the easy way out. If perception is reality, that reality was perceived through the prism of the sixties.

Launched by a race in space and a bullet in Dallas, ending when the firing ceased in Southeast Asia, it was too real to deal, so we ducked and covered into the hiding places of our minds. Even a tenure at college was no guarantee of insulation from the pain of draft boards and demonstrations. An altered state, in which we were all painted with the smear of the same brush, until we emerged from whatever bunker we had hunkered down in, blinking at the dawning realization that we weren't in, or listening to, Kansas anymore.

The decade that descended like some temporal tsunami had deposited us on a strange, new beach-head, staring out into the void of the next. Some of us were on a bridge to nowhere, frantically doubling back before it collapsed. And, like it or not, the prerequisites now for feeding one's head were cold, hard cash and a walk down the grocery aisle.

The grand experiment was over,the outcome handicapped by how one had bet on the roll of those dichotomous dice. And at the twilight of each decade, we may look back at ourselves and ask "What were you then, and who are you now?. The answer always ends in a question mark.

We'll just have to wait a couple of years for the question to that answer.

Love and Knishes

Take one part vodka, two parts Jewish soul food. Add a large dollop of love and affection. Mix thoroughly on the dance floor and give a generous portion to all. This was the recipe for the delicious evening at Sammy's Roumanian on the Ides of March. Even without the booze and schmaltz the result would have been the same - an evening that started on a high and kept climbing.

What a paradox! After the reunion, many felt that we would drift back into the woodwork of our daily lives, our needs met and desires satiated. Sure, we'd have the website, but even that was relegated to occasional glances, skimming to see if something had changed. That is, until a devoted few re-lit the flame under our collective behinds, and motivated a migration back to the Forum. Preliminary plans for a potential repeat reunion in '08 received rave reviews.

The tantalizingly short tenure of our time together just intensified the impetus, the spark that started the chain reaction. We continued to crave our company, knowing that we are within easy reach, so close and yet so far. Scattered to the four corners of the country, our thoughts turn to Omega in those moments when we need a place in our hearts to escape the mundane.

Some of us even beamed up to the the original coordinates of the mother ship, but that enterprise didn't complete the mission. All that remains is the exoskeleton, and no sticks or stones can mend those bones.

Only when we stand again on common ground is the force truly with us, and it grows stronger with each transcendent event. Perpetual emotion and our magnetic attraction to Omega and each other will always overcome any inertia and compel us to increase the frequency.

And may it live long and prosper.

Believe It Or Not

It was a cool morning in 1968, and I was preparing for my day off as counselor of the Badger bunk. The campers were out, doing their morning activities, and I had the place to myself, as well as the rare privilege of sole access to the showers. Taking advantage of the opportunity, I took a long, hot one, without interruption. It was as if I were Ponce De Leon taking his first dip in the fabled fountain of youth.

Feeling completely rejuvenated by the warm water's sedating effect, I laid down on my cot, and immediately fell into a blissful nap. Suddenly, I had the sensation of hovering over my body, looking down in disbelief. There I was, dead to the world, while my ethereal self floated above. Thinking it a dream, I waited for the subconscious adventure to begin, but still I hovered. Typically, a dream plays out like a movie, taking us to places we may or may not choose to go. Therefore, I shouldn't be able to move about at will, and, verifying this theory might validate the vision. I endeavored to leave the room and instantaneously became airborne, at what seemed to be two hundred feet above the boy's campus!

The feeling was euphoric, touching the intangible, beyond the earthly ties that bind us to our bodies. This was soon replaced by another, more unwelcome thought: what if I was unable to re-inhabit my physical form? Was I ready to remain in this unreal realm, seeing but unseen, removed from the life I was leading, leaving my loved ones and friends? Panic pervaded my presence, and I resolved to return to my fleshy self.

In an instant I was passing through the wall of that rustic cabin I called my Omega home. Again, another unnerving thought gripped my ghostly noggin: could I make it to the other side and remain intact, so to speak, or was there a risk of freezing in place? At once, I became stuck in mid-wall.

Straining to extricate myself from this unwanted state, I miraculously broke free of my bonds, once again gazing down at my limp, lifeless self. But now began the last, and most difficult leg of my journey: to re-unite with my self and awaken in my former world. The melding began, and as the question of re-entry was resolved, I bolted upright from my slumber. What a gift, I thought, to be given the knowledge that there's more to life than life. As what, I didn't know, and furthermore, didn't care.

Dressing quickly, I ran swiftly to the main house, past the staircase, not stopping until I reached the kitchen. I instinctively knew that my Mom would be sitting there in her sweatshirt, shorts and Keds, planning the next evening's activity or even perhaps the Color War breakout.

"Mom!", I proclaimed loudly, scaring her half to death, "Great news! It doesn't end here! We will all live on! I know, I was just on the other side!". She looked at me, wondering if I had lost my mind, but, in her uncanny way, she quickly realized that I was not delirious. After a reassuring hug, she whispered "I believe you". That was enough; her concurrence was all I needed to certify my sanity.

So, dear reader, I leave it to you. Think what you will of this story. All I can say is, it happened, Bern will corroborate my tale. And I've shared it with others who've had similar experiences. Perhaps you have, too, but are reticent to share it with another living soul.

In any event, you now have mine to mull over. Believe it, or not.