GARY GRIMSHAW'S BENEFIT IS TODAY

Don Bailey:
The response has been truly amazing. People from around the world have asked how to donate money and or buy the show poster for the Gary Grimshaw Benefit on April 1, 2010. Come see us this Thursday from 6pm till 9pm. Grand Trunk Pub 612 Woodward, Detroit, MI

News from Laura Grimshaw is Gary is recovering well, talking, 'tho as always, he is a Man of few, well chosen words. AND! Gary will NOT need an additional surgery to assist his breathing. Keep sending the GGOD! He says he can FEEL IT! Gary will remain at VA Hospital for now. Bottom line is that Gary is holding out but expected to be in SICU for a very, very long time. When he begins to speak we will put up another update.

Laura Grimshaw: I won't miss Thursday with everyone! Love on You All! Laura

Be Gary's Facebook Fan HERE

Gary's friend Rich Dorris on Gary Grimshaw's behalf has set up this fan page. Gary started doing art in 1966 with the First Grande Ballroom Posters of the The MC5. He spent years living in San Francisco and the Bay area and currently calls Motown home.

BIG RICH'S POST ON GARY IS HERE





GRIMSHAW drew this logo for me, there a 2-3 versions.

Biggity Rich

LAND OF A 1000 DANCES

Saint Gregory's, 1964, Dexter and Fenkell, Detroit... couple miles from the GRANDE BALLROOM. 300 kids in the whole High School. In the Gym, up on the stage where we had the Christmas Play... now the boys and girls were READY to ROCK! The Band wearin' matchin' Blue Sharkskin Sport Coats with Velvet Collars, skinny ties. Sax player wailin'... down on his knees bent WAY back. Singer screamin' "Do ya' know how to PONY?"



The "LAND of a THOUSAND DANCES "... my first LIVE BAND music... must have been Home Coming. 9th Grade...We hit the floor runnin'! I didn't know HOW to dance, Mom said... "Don't worry, some little Chik-a-dee will show you!" ...and they did. Sock Hop, take of your shoes and run around...



DJ spinnin' "BABY LOVE"... no line dance, more of a circle. Grimshaw says the Lincoln Park way was to try and stomp your feet thru the floor... The "UBANGI STOMP"! You know... "Cannibal Style"! Roger Miller singin' "Chug-A-Lug", if only them Nuns knew what's next... some Hip Kids went on Robin Seymour's Dance Show that year, "SWINGIN' TIME"... not me, Man.



Osborn High School on 7 Mile, East Side, 4,000 students... Home Coming '66 was a whole 'nother story. A sea of Frat Boys & Girls packin' the gym. Paul Revere & The Raiders singin' "KICKS"... Greaser's on the edge, hangin' outside... smokin' Luckie's, huffin' helium from the balloons to talk like a duck. BIG hair and leathers vs. Madras and penny loafers... I split and never looked back.

A few Hippie's started poppin' up, growin' long hair, passin' out Grande Cards in the Hall... once that clicked, I was GONE. Got burnt for smokin' that joint in the Boy's Room. Threw my bag out the window, told Mom goodbye and headed out into the night, no plan... Wayne State livin', High School kick-out... Street Freek. Down on Prentis and Cass. Winter of 1967.

BIG RICH: FLEETWOOD MAC STORY

Got a call one day, 1971...still livin' down in the Wayne State Ghetto, a wild woman I know had met Peter Green at the Filmore East in NYC.. Fleetwood Mac was sittin' at the Ramada Inn by Detroit Metro Airport with nuthin' to do, could they come over?

Anyway, they sure did... Peter, Mick Fleetwood...the whole band, this was before Stevie Nicks and all. Unbelievable... My Lady cooked 'em a bad-ass Hippie-Whole-Wheat-Pizza with Miso-Tahini Sauce and carrots instead of pepperoni, loaf of bread for the road.

They loved it... MOST cool people, hung out, asked us if we "Wanna go to the show tonight"... so we did. Alley behind the Eastown was dark, black security guards with rifles run us off, so I asked John McVie, "Where'd you guys park last time?"... he replied, " We left that in the hands of others". I usually step on my d*ck when I meet my heroes, right Wayne? OH WELL.



Inside, Black Sabbath was playin', so crowded we couldn't leave backstage.. I stood in the wings next to a guy with a machine gun bullet belt and a clear plastic guitar, I didn't know shit about those guys... Iron Man and all.

Fleetwood took the stage, most awesome... Mick had two big round bells hangin' from his belt, dig? He had kids from the crowd up, beatin' on his drums. A VERY rowdy crowd hung at the Eastown Theatre... this I know.


Photo: Sean Doerr

Still can't believe... they took us with 'em next night to the Palladium, another music place out in Birmingham... walked in the front door with Fleetwood Mac, one of my ALL TIME FAVORITE BANDS! Thanks Pete.

GUEST POST FROM JUDI

Thanks for sharing all of this history .....
I lived in Ann Arbor in the day and owned Make Waves. I was there during the days of the Hill House and was good friends with Hiawatha (Bailey). I have a poster from Gang Wars playing at Second Chance and lots of other artwork from those times. We used to go to the Diag and trip out....


Judi



IT started in Ypsilanti in a commune and we did a newspaper called the Second Coming not about Jesus but about freedom..our house was raided by the Ypsi police because we were no good hippies .









i went to see John Lennon and have the hand-out Yoko gave out with her trippy poetry...many a good time was had at the T shirt gallery and fantasy fashions in A2.

Thanks BIG RICH and hope to meet you someday in person to share our tales to tell. I saw Niagara and the Colonel last summer when i was passing thru the big D...will be back soon to the motor.




Also have the video of a wedding in the Arb )Arboretum) from 1971 and lots of dancing in the streets. In 1972 moved out to Grass lake and had a t shirt business, called Dancing in the street enterprises, we made t shirts for some of the blues fests, psychedelic rangers, my partner was ken brown....

later we set up shop on state street, Recently went to check it out and Ann Arbor progress meant the building is gone, but the dust never will settle, lots of partying done in that little store on state street, on liberty there was fantasy fashions where I met Ronnie and Ni back in the day...

too much to dream peace and love, judi

BIG RICH: ROAD WARRIORS!

Summer of 1972 we held a BIG Bash at our place in Wixom, Michigan...25 acres, house and barn... destined to become another Suburban Development... meanwhile we invited every body out for a PARTY!


The Band

The IRON HORSE EXCHANGE was our band then, powerful loco-motion for sure, everyone was there, Billy G, Gerber Baby, Bert and a shit-load of 'em I never saw before... don't print fliers if you don't want a crowd.


The Crowd

Lots of fun and Rock n' Roll and naked hippies in the fields... the barn was rockin' so hard it felt like an earthquake! The band brought Cops and KEGS of Heineken Beer, my "other" brand, never saw that again 'till a show in Ypsilanti..

NEW ORDER with Ron Asheton and Dennis Machinegun Thompson, a few years later.


New Order

There comes a time in each man's life when he must "hit that road", for one reason... or another. After my disastrous failure as an herb merchant and short stay in OC Jail, I headed west.. hitchhiking across America is a time honored tradition... so we went.



Lenny was a Botany Major at U of M, he knew where the mushrooms grew. We got dropped off, the other side of the Mississippi River... first ride took us all the way, over the mountains and thru the desert... next stop LA. Lenny's Brother lived in a motel with some Senorita, on Route 66... we turned down his plan to boost a VW bus and trade it for Kilos in Mexico, then swim back... no thanks.



I went solo, thumbed up the Pacific Coast Highway, US1, from San Diego to San Francisco, camped in Big Sur , stayed a few days with a commune up in the mountains... had to move on, camped out in the desert and up in the Rockies near Aspen, nobody wants a wanderer hangin' around... had a court date, so I headed home...


Big Sur

That Deputy leanin' on the Bus Stop, readin' Wonder Woman Comic Book at 2 am, in Sterling, Colorado, was eyeballin' us vagrant hippies for a 30 day vacation, so I panhandled a ticket out o' town... then stuck out my thumb, first ride went from Denver to Toledo, what do ya' think of THAT? Back in Ann Arbor,



I was upstairs at the Hill House, looked out the window and there was my Girl... she said meet me back at the Ranch...so I did.

BIG RICH: NY DOLLS GANG WAR!

The New York Dolls

I boosted John Sinclair's copy of The NY Doll's first album when I worked for Rainbow, about 1970 somethin'...


John Rob and .....

Didn't think he'd miss it. Lot of people ripped on me for diggin' the New York Dolls but I didn't give a F*ck, something about 'em hooked me AND my brothers... like a dressed up mixture of the 5 and Stooges... somehow.


Fat Boy

I never saw 'em play, but a couple of my biker Bros, Fat Boy & the Rhino, were bodyguards for 'em when they did an extended run at a place called the TRADING POST on Gratiot. Never heard of any trouble then...Ya never know where you'll find a Doll's Fan.




The Rhino

Ain't life funny......


Gang War Wayne Kramer Johnny T and Ron Cooke

Sometime later, like '78?... Gang War came on the scene. One night we decided to drop some acid, for reasons which escape me at this point, and go see 'em at the Pretzel Bowl, a bar on Woodward in Detroit... Wayne had recently returned from the Fed's and a ROCKIN' good time was had by all... Detroit Bass Player Ron Cooke and Johnny Morgan joined in the mayhem too.



I got best dancer prize from Johnny Thunders... a memorable night to say the least.


Trippin at the Pretzel Bowl


Seva had shows downstairs now a Comedy Club

The SEVA club wouldn't let 'em play one night in Ann Arbor unless we did stage security, as Thunders had been acting up... usual stupid shit, anyway, he was F'n with Wayne, who kicked him square in the chest, into the amps...



Johnny split up the back stairs, we chased him... just what he wanted, and found him hidin' in a van with fans of the female type... the show went on, everyone had a fine time and it wasn't too far in the future they were chasin' me up them same stairs. I said before, a lot of shit happens when everybody's high.

Born to Lose Johnny Thunders RIP



Read more about Gang War History HERE

BIG RICH: MC5/ SRC/ DEADBOYS!

Grimshaw Poster

I put a SPELL on you! I believe it to my SOUL! The MC5 delivered a most JOYOUS message of CELEBRATION each and every time they played!


Comments included on video

No DOUBT as to their intentions...COME TOGETHER! America, your children were certainly not safe in their arms. Besides all the "trouble'' and Cops and bad dope... it was the "Dance of Romance"... Brothers and Sisters, and it was ALL TRUE!


Iggy in front of SRC photo: Leni Sinclair

EQUALLY as powerful, in their own way, as Brother Bands, Stooges and the Mighty MC5... was The SRC... their very names had a mysterious ring, QUACKENBUSH (Gary guitar and Glenn keyboards)... all wizardly, like GRIMSHAW, know what I mean?


SRC 1968 photo: Leni Sinclair

Anyway, these Quackenbush Brothers, Steve Lyman, Al Wilmot and lead singer Scott Richardson introduced us teen-age music lovers to a completely different view of the world, filled with Gnomes and Dwarfs and Angels and searing, soaring... psychedelic versions of classical opera like we "ain't NEVER heard before"! I recall sittin' on the floor of the Paladium, a suburban version of the GRANDE, trippin' my BRAINS out, watchin' mushrooms and vines and elves and all kinds of happy shit sproutin' and runnin' all OVER the place.

So fine, so clean... Their standard closing number, BOLERO/HALL of the MOUNTAIN KING, would, much like BLACK to COMM, in a different place.... leave us awestruck and astounded, and havin' to come back to earth, to face another day.



Dig this, my Harley Mechanic's name is Ray... Quackenbush, now what's the chances of that?


Stiv Bators and The Dead Boys

Multiple Realities Timothy Leary called it, for sure... 'round about 1978 things were different, of all the PUNKS, the DEAD BOYS was our favorite, an all American Band from Cleveland, just across the lake from Detroit. We were DOWN with the DB's right off. They played BOOKIES...





Norton, of the 27, tried to unite me with Lydia Lunch of "I need lunch" fame (she stole the Dead Boys Lunch).... she was havin' NONE of it.


Lydia Lunch

I traded my MC5 colors to their drummer for some kind of sleeveless Hot-Rod Monster t-shirt, it was the LEAST I could do. Great show, HIGH Energy, small club... best way to see your band, face to face.

A little later, they played the Second Chance in Ann Arbor. They had been around long enough to get a Rep... the show ended in a rain of glass from the balcony... ala' Metallic KO.

The roadies were using tables for umbrellas to clear the stage... unbelievable. Before the show, I got Stiv Bators autograph, it read, "DOWN to KILL , To the DETROIT DOGS. I still have it, somewhere.

BIG RICH: IT SCREAMED DETROIT!

Rich and Sister Ellie

Me and Mitch Ryder went to the same high school at different times together. As an alternative to gettin' shipped off to Viet Nam, in fall of '68, I decided to go back and finish my senior year. The family had relocated out to 15 mile and Ryan, a cornfield infested wilderness to me. The Principal was worried if I had picked up any bad habits on the road... "Nah", I told 'em... "I don't even smoke... cigarettes." Just a little Lysergic Acid (LSD). So I proceeded to plunge back into reality.


Big Rich

Warren High was a mite backwards, you could say... although a fair amount of bell bottomed chicks and Art class made it seem worthwhile. Football players on the other hand, had a serious hippie hate'n thing going on. This was still the time of GRANDE' and the EAST TOWN was commin' on, we were lookin' pretty weird... hair gettin' long, beads, round glasses, occasional dog collar... "far-out" we used to say.

Had left my leather, somewhere, so we bought some of them suede fringed jackets at the Plum Pit, over on Gratiot and 11 Mile... we were lookin' cool... my buddy, Donnie Jones and me. His was red, mine was brown... Some bikers at a burger joint on the west side said, "Look at them queer cowboys"... but they let us go, again. It was always somethin'.

Lots of "shit" goes down in "Boys Rooms", ya' know. I was lurkin' and havin' a toke one day when a big foot baller named Moe walked in... me smilin' about an unrelated issue pissed him off, so he socked me into the sink. "Any time... anytime you wanna' fight!" Oh well, No harm done, I met him later at a party in Birmingham... all stoned out and smilin', just sittin' on the steps. I won.



It seemed like they left me alone after a while... turns out there was this guy... big, long haired, karate guy... he told 'em to leave me be, so they did. We got tight, I called him Bert. He dosed me once and took me out on the I-75 Freeway during rush hour... at a high rate of speed.

He thought that shit was funny. The car was a '68 Chevelle Super Sport, Black with mags and a peace sign in the rear window... it screamed DETROIT!



I took Bert to the Hill House in Ann Arbor, once... a hot bed of radical types. They were smokin' Hash and playin' John Coltrane, usual radical stuff. Bert invited the best lookin', blond, most radical feminist in the place to... "



Blow this pop-stand and go some place hip"... she smiled and said... "Where would you like to go?" We split, she stayed. I am still amazed.



We ran off to Toronto, to see some Hippies I knew... the Open City Commune, saw Howlin' Wolf at The Colonial Club... what a bad-ass. We turned around and drove right back, he didn't dig the scene. I told him to ditch the joints that night, commin' over the Bridge... "Nah, were cool", he said. The US Border Guards did a personal-flashlight-inspection, found the pot, seized the car... and let us go.

His old man had to go get it... title was in his name.

Carl Lobert (BERT) didn't make it, the Qualude-747's took him, in 1976, at the tender age of 25.

BIG RICH: BLAME IT ON THE GATOR!

If you wanna know how all this got started, just blame it on the Gator'... and LIFE Magazine. In the early '60's things was jumpin'! Beatles, Beatniks, Bikers and Bikini's were changin' my view of the world...



LIFE and Ed Sullivan were my source of information. My family had a pop-up camper, like a covered wagon... another Pal of mine, Rich, had a Grandpa in Florida, they borrowed me and my camper and off we went. South-bound, 1966, before the Interstate was built... took 3 days.



Daytona Beach was a dream come true... we swam in the Ocean all day and hit the boardwalk every night. Genuine crazy bikers wearin' german helmets, chicks galore... Tommy James blastin' "Hanky Panky"...





I had a white t-shirt air brushed with a giant "Maltesse Cross"... Daytona Cop drove next to me one night as I was walkin' home... "If you were my kid, I'd kick your ass..." he said out the window... they didn't dig my style I guess.



This might be a good time to talk about this German stuff... medals and all. We are Patriots, of the Highest order! All that stuff is left over from WWII. I have an album cover with Bing Crosby wearin' one of those helmets, a war trophy... ya' gotta kill em' to take their lid. Get the picture?

It became a symbol of rebellion, just to freak out the citizens. Truth is Ron Asheton wore it well... he had quite a collection. I asked him once what he thought of it all... Nazi's and stuff. "Nah", he said, "those guys are assholes, it's all about style". "Seems like I'm always rootin' for the other side... Indians, Rebels, you know." "Me too", I said. Yeah, Rebels.



I rolled back into Detroit that summer, head full of wild ideas, confederate flag beach towel and that plastic German helmet that almost got me beat... pretty soon my Gator came in the mail, all alone in a little cardboard box. Back in Florida I saw the sign, $5 LIVE BABY ALLIGATORS... 15 years old and I was in... Mom says I was never the same after that. That Gator didn't make it.