Just got back from The Real Summer of Love in San Francisco. What a ride.
Made some plans- really loose plans, and watched them blow up in slow motion, beginning at our departure.
Much if not all of that is well chronicled at www.dmclain.com describing the hospitalization of our friend and cohort Trevor MacPherson, apostle to the alternative lifestyle youngsters of the world. Dave tells it all best, as my gaze was fixed on whatever tasks I could complete.
What I did manage was to catch a couple of the evenings, some "covert ops" with some of my friends, did a couple of evening services (prayed for a couple of people) met some really cool people, did a little warfare on my drum, was thoroughly impressed by a young musician named Stephen Roach (twice carried a dun-dun to his car and asked him to pray impartation of musicianship and he added a bit)and carried Leonard Jones guitar to his car for him and he gave me a ride back to the concert site.
That is a whirlwind, but it's about how it all felt.
So, we stayed in the "Tenderloin" district. Saw hookers nightly outside the international hostel where we stayed, apparently the best facility of it's type in San Francisco. Wi-fi, continental breakfast, ambiance- an amazing place for whatit was. And more importantly 5 blocks from the hospital (again, www.dmclain.com )
That hadn't been a consideration for us before we left.
Trevor was on a panel with Arthur Blessit, Chuck Girard and some others including Sean Bolz and some others.
The next morning he went to the hospital with something that would have killed him had he been a lesser man.
In a drum circle, they had begun and I went and asked if I could join. We went through a couple of guitar players and one broke a string. The guy next to him, who had sung a prophetic type song moments before said that perhaps he had come to San Francisco to get saved. Pretty amazing.
There were some challenges besides Trevors situation, but I'll get to those later, or they aren't important.
Slainte!