I had cried when President Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963 in Dallas Texas. They sent us home from school and I sat bewildered, staring at the horror on television. But I was older now, and I was beginning to understand the profundity of discontent in America, so this heartbreaking tragedy had a powerful impact on me. I had heard and was moved by Reverend King’s 'I Have A Dream' speech (not in August of ‘64 when he delivered it, but a few years later in a documentary) and now he had been gunned down for preaching about harmony and freedom and civil rights and liberties for all. The world was most definitely spinning out-of-control.
Hippies in Canada had all the love, peace and harmony as our brothers and sisters to the south but we did not have the same political agenda; we did not suffer the same racial strife and we were not at war. Our leaders were not being slaughtered on television and Canada was not sending our boys off to a jungle in Viet Nam to be blown to bits and shipped home in a bag. We were tie-dying shirts and threading beaded necklaces while the youth of America were hung out to dry by their own government. We were somewhat insulated here on Canada’s west coast and sheltered from the conflict. We were aware but we did not participate. This was a little like an ostrich hiding its head in the sand.
We wouldn't remain passive for long though. In three years, some environmental activists would set sail out of Vancouver in what would be the start of one of the most important protest groups of our time.
In Canadian politics something astonishing happened - On April 20th, we elected a hip Prime Minister. His name was Pierre Trudeau. He was arrogant, conceited and insulting. He was also somewhat of a handsome playboy who was intelligent, witty and tuned-in. Although we had had some very good Prime Ministers, Trudeau was the first to represent Canada who had charisma. He would later marry a sexy brunette from Vancouver named Margaret Sinclair. She eventually divorced him and hung out with The Rolling Stones - that’s pretty hip.
The Canadian Broadcasting Corporation had been producing the television program Let’s Go since 1964. Mostly, it had been a top-forty show with a house-band and featured singers. The program’s musical director was a talented pianist named Tom Baird who later went off to produce records for Motown. He wrote Love Child for Diana Ross & The Supremes and produced or wrote for Earth Wind & Fire, Rare Earth and Stevie Wonder. Sadly, he died young.
Now, Let’s Go producer, Ken Gibson, was interested in the new original sounds being created by The Collectors, Spring, Tom Northcott, The Seeds Of Time and others. Coincidently, some members of The Collectors had been the nucleus of the house band when they were called The C-FUN Classics and Northcott had been one of the featured top-forty vocalists. Spring’s guitarist/vocalist, Terry Frewer also played in the house band on earlier Let’s Go shows. He and Bob Buckley, on keyboards and saxophone, had put Spring together with bassist Pete McKinnon (formerly of The Stags) and drummer Rob Fisher to play a mix of rock and jazz. They were all among the best musicians in town.
We were booked to appear on an episode in May. We backed Sub-A-Lub right into the small studio on Georgia Street near Bute Street and unloaded our stuff onto the tiny stage. I had used some of the paisley 'Cling' left over from our interior decoration of Sub-A-Lub to re-finish my drum kit. It was very unique. We went live to air at five o’clock. The floor director stood beside one of the enormous cameras and counted down from five.
The red light came on, Geoff said, “Hit it Rock,” and I hit the drum-shot intro that launched us into a spirited version of The Nazz Are Blue.
After a commercial break we came back with two original songs titled, A Long Time Ago and Kaleidoscope.
On June 27th The Velvet Underground arrived in town to play at the Retinal Circus. The Seeds of Time was the opening act. The Velvet Underground had emerged as the musical focal point of the New York pop-art scene led by Andy Warhol.They featured an enigmatic vocalist named, Nico, who was a darling of Warhol and not really a singer. The real essence of The Velvet Underground was their poet leader, vocalist/guitarist Lou Reed, and his writing partner, bassist John Cale. The Seeds were playing two of their songs, Heroin and I’m Waiting For The Man. Lou Reed’s recorded performance of the seven minute Heroin was powerful and convincing. Our version was longer, more psychedelic and naïve; what you might expect from a bunch of kids from the suburbs who were chipping on weekends.
The Velvet Underground was also booked to play a show at the Agrodome the night before. During the show bassist John Cale fell off the stage and broke his wrist. They asked Steve to play with them for both of their Retinal Circus dates. So, Steve played the opening set with us and the headline set with The Velvet Underground. We must have been high on something because we wanted to play our version of Heroin. Jim went to Lou Reed in the dressing room and asked his permission. He said “yeah.” Afterwards he dismissed it as “teenybopper.”
I felt very strongly about dropping acid with Trisha. I pressured her until she agreed. We met in the West End one rainy night and walked to Karl and Rose's place on Robson. Trisha was nervous but excited at the same time; I knew the feeling. Karl and Rose invited us in. Jim was there too. Whenever someone embarked upon their first trip, the whole act of getting high took on a ceremonious modus vivendi, and Jim couldn't allow such an event to occur on his watch without being present to supervise it.
Karl made tea while Rose giggled at everything that was said. Jim, who was sitting on the floor across from Rose, stared right at her and shouted, “the fucking pigs man ... they're out there waiting to lay a bummer on all of us ... Do you know that Rose?”. Rose looked down at the floor, covered her bad teeth with her hands and laughed so hard she had tears streaming down her face. This was one very simple and very happy woman. Jim just shrugged and giggled too.
I held Trisha's hand as she popped the capsule into her mouth. Then I knocked back one of my own and washed it down with a little marijuana tea. By now, I was used to the sensation of the roller coaster car climbing the first big hill; ca-clack, ca-clack, ca-clack, ca-clack, but for Trisha it was a new adventure. Before she could think about it, there was the incredible acid rush and she was whisked away two thousand light years from home soaring around the universe on her first psychedelic trip.
Jim launched into his guru routine. It started to freak Trisha out.
“Can we go out?” she inquired as if this might be a preposterous idea.
“Out there?” I said looking towards the door that had shrunk to the size of a mouse - Out there scared me. “I don't think that's a good ...”
She grasped my arm and locked eyes with me. Her pupils were dilated to the point that there was no iris, only deep black mirrors that opened into her soul. This girl really wanted to go out.
“Uh, yeah, we can go out,” I said. “We'll go for a walk ... out there.”
Jim did not like the idea that this mere girl could just barge in here and start ordering me around; that was his department. “Watch out for the pigs,” he warned. But Trisha had already gotten her coat and was helping me into mine.
We shrunk ourselves down, squeezed through the minuscule doorway and popped out full-sized onto the street. It was night. The lights were dazzling, especially when the raindrops caught the light and refracted it and reflected it into millions and millions of colourful exploding stars that burst all around me. I don't know how long we were there among the stars but eventually I felt Trisha's gentle tug and we started walking up Robson.
Within a few steps I was paralyzed with fear. I spotted a Vancouver Police car cruising right for us like a Great White Shark in dark murky water; just as Jim The Soothsayer had prophesied. I was waddling like a God-damned zombie, all straight legged and spastic, attempting to look normal - whatever that may be - while trying desperately to escape those terrible