Like ,for a time in the 70's it became popular among many a fun-loving rock band to hire Hell's Angels for concert security. The Stones used them in that CA show where they kicked a lot of butt & got lots of bad publicity... I can't quite remember the raceway's name(Annaheim?), but Bill Graham didn't produce that show, I don't think, and I know HP & I weren't there for that one, anyway. But we were @ Winterland when The Dead got a lot of Angels in for free under the guise of band security. Rock Med's staff had all parked beneath the Winterland structure in the underground parking garage, and then, we were speechless as the Angels roared into the garage w/lots of noise & fanfare. We just went on up to the clinic to get started. We'd been in the clinic working for about 45 mins when Jerry Pompelli(one of Bill's co-producers) came in with a message from the Angels. HP's Harley (that I had bought him w/some insurance money I collected after getting hit by a drunk driver-that's another story) could stay parked down there , but the Kawasaki & the Honda that HP's friends had ridden to the show with us upon would have to be moved and parked outside of the building, as the Angels were offended to be parking their Hogs in the vicinity of such inferior machinery. HP's buds, Chris & Animal, were insulted to the max, but Jerry stresses the need for calm compliance considering the Angels were invited VIP guests of the band, and as they were the most infamous gang at the show that night, they ended up relunctantly following the orders from the Hells Angels. Very quickly, it got worse. A few of the gentle Deadheads were having too much fun, and they danced into and stepped on the toes of some Angels that just didn't get it. And the Angels again, were anxious to take offense. I saw it happen, there was no disrespect intended from the gleefull, giggley, dancing kids, but the Angels jumped at the opportunity to take offense ,personafying the belief that the best defense is a good offense. And they started punching these kids in the face. Many Angels, many kids. I opened the door to the clinic & hollered that we needed help out here. Rock Med's staff came running from one way, and Bill Graham's security came running from another. And the Angels kept right on punching on anyone who came within punching distance. To add injury to his earlier insult, poor Chris came away with a black eye, as did lots of other folks. Police finally came and sorted it all out, and the pandemonium mellowed. The Angels felt they were being punished when Bill announced in the future, Hell's Angels would not be allowed into Dead shows if they wore their colors. Their unique uniforms... Whenever I saw them around after that, they still wore their colors, and nobody hassled them about it at all. No one wanted them to take offense. Anything, but that...

Of the 1st time The Dead knocked me off my feet. HP had forbidden me to go check out the shows, as this concert medicine was serious business, and there was no room to mix business w/pleasure, medicine with dancing. Besides, he hated everything about Dead shows, and to this day, I feel he hated them because so many people loved them with such abandon. Regardless, he had long since forbidden me to leave the work in the clinic and go take a break with the music, though I was more & more attracted to the kind and gentle dancing Deadheads. If I ever wandered out to check out the music (like all of the other volunteers did), I always caught Hell upon my return to the clinic. He'd rant and rave in front of the other volunteers and patients, about me desserting him in the clinic...that I was curious to experience the many aspects of a Dead show, mattered not one iota. If I was not by his side saving the world in Rock Medicine, then I must surely be out there in the crowd performing acts of sexual depravation with nameless, faceless, multiple hippie Deadheads-cuz, that's how all women really were. All women. Some of my new girlfriends who were also volunteers often took me aside to quiz me on HP's toltalitarian quirks, but I always stuck up for him, figuring if I loved him good enough he would learn to trust in me. My new friends wearied of trying to convince me that his behavior was destructive. They wearied of his demands and of my obedience. And then, sassy little red-haired Barb grabbed my hand and ran me out to the show, through the crowd to the front of the stage where Bobby was doing a "Johnny B. Goode" encore. I could feel my brain slide out of place right there and then. The adrenenalin coursed through my body, and my mind literally lit up with the discovery of something wonderous that had been denied fruition up to that moment in time. That very concert at Winterland ,I have on an old VCR tape, and that song-when i play it, can bring back those same wonderous feelings I felt when I saw Bobby do it live-and I can watch it and experience it over & over again-only now, I don't have to go back and face HP and catch Hell for hearing the song that changed my life.For the better...

A great read everytime I go there. Wally make me laugh, and think, and really enjoy the ying and the yang of the blogstream experience. I have found a kindred spirit in cyberspace, and I'm here to tell ya, it's definitely up there in my litany of adventures. He wants to hear more of my stories, as I look forward to laughing at many more of his stories, and following along in the chapters of his book(s). "SCRAM GRAVY" is my idea of a good time...I hope lots of other bloggers are as delighted by discovering Wacky Wally's World, as I have been...and plan to continue to follow it's inevitable progress, as do I.

I have the time & the opportunity to explore "Scram Gravy "in the detailed manner that it deserves. I am putting my blogstream on hold while I conduct this study. If you haven't already done so, I recommend that you find time to do the same. He's quite good...and fun...and funny...Wally just might quite possibly rule...

....just might be me. Whenever I am not busy complaining about the natural order of things that one must expect during the course of a life time, I notice that I am a pretty happy lady. There's always room for improvement, but somehow, I seem to be doing pretty darn well. Sure hope I feel this way tomorrow...it works for me tonight...