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TEAM LA LOCA
Ungelbah Davila
Creator/Photographer/ Editor-in-chief
Andrea Zamora
Jacob “Possum” Dunlap VPBA
Carmen Marsello
Staff Writer/Model
Staff Writer
Seth Browder
Gabriela Campos
Astrology Columnist
Staff Photographer
Candice Buenabenta Samantha Bencomo Promotional Model
Promotional Model
Carrie Tafoya Artistic Director/ Photographer
Nikki Delaney Staff Writer
Simon Cantlon Contributing Writer
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Abigail R. Ortiz Staff Writer
Vivian MirAnn
Burlesque Columnist
Risa Dimond Contributing Writer
Susannah Drake
Amber Fuentes
Promotional Model
Promotional Model
Cover/Centerfold Model: Joy Coy Photographer: Carrie Tafoya Costume/Set: Carrie Tafoya
Advertising/Contact lalocamagazine@yahoo.com www.lalocamagazine.com Facebook.com/LaLocaMagazine #lalocamagazine #keepitloca La Loca Magazine is published bimonthly by La Loca LLC. All rights reserved. Reproduction in whole or part is prohibited. Photographs submitted for publication are submitted at owner’s risk. La Loca LLC is not liable for the statements of contributors or advertisers. La Loca LLC reserves the right to reject any advertising or contribution that it deems unsuitable.
Hecho en Nuevo Mejico, USA
Summer of Love
6
Feminism & Free Love
8
Timeline of Legalization
14
Flashing on the ‘60s
16
Edge of Innocence
20
Sparkle Plenty
30
Road to Woodstock
34
On the Road
36
Rockabilly Returns to Rt. 66
38
Star Power
46
“Anyone who knows anything of history knows that great social changes are impossible without feminine upheaval. ” - Karl Marx
“Good sex is like good bridge. If you don't have a good partner, you'd better have a good hand.” - Mae West
“Sex without love is as hollow and ridiculous as love without sex.” - Hunter S. Thompson “We are all born sexual creatures, thank God, but it's a pity so many people despise and crush this natural gift.” - Marilyn Monroe
“But when a woman decides to sleep with a man, there is no wall she will not scale, no fortress she will not destroy, no moral consideration she will not ignore at its very root: there is no God worth worrying about.” - Gabriel García Márquez, “Love in the Time of Cholera”
Ungelbah Dávila
editor-in-chief
“The difference between sex and love is that sex relieves tension and love causes it.” - Woody Allen
“Good girls go to heaven and bad girls go Everywhere.” - Helen Gurley Brown editor-in-chief of Cosmopolitan
“No woman gets an orgasm from shining the kitchen floor. ” - Betty Friedan author of “The Feminine Mystique”
“A man can sleep around, no questions asked, but if a woman makes nineteen or twenty mistakes, she's a tramp.” - Joan Rivers
“Young people are moving away from feeling guilty about sleeping with somebody to feeling guilty if they are not sleeping with someone.” - Margaret Mead
“Boys and girls in America have such a sad time together; sophistication demands that they submit to sex immediately without proper preliminary talk. Not courting talk — real straight talk about souls, for life is holy and every moment is precious.” - Jack Kerouac, “On the Road”
“We waste time looking “Sex is the biggest nothing for the perfect lover, of creating all time.” the instead of Andy Warhol perfect love.” - Tom Robbins
Wavy Gravy at the Hog Farm Commune in Llama, NM, hosting a party to watch the moon landing, 1969 Photo by: Doug Magnus
Woodstock, the word alone floods the mind with iconic images of the ‘60s, and for those of us born too late to experience it all first hand, we grasp at our own, colorful imaginings. In the decades since this event permanently altered the world of live music, it has grown to symbolize an era, where, in the words of writer Hunter S. Thompson: “There was madness in any direction, at any hour. If not across the Bay, then up the Golden Gate or down 101 to Los Altos or La Honda. . . . You could strike sparks anywhere. There was a fantastic universal sense that whatever we were doing was right, that we were winning. . . . “And that, I think, was the handle — that sense of inevitable victory over the forces of old and evil. Not in any mean or military sense; we didn’t need that. Our energy would simply prevail. There was no point in fighting — on our side or theirs. We had all the momentum; we were riding the crest of a high and beautiful wave…” (Fear and Loath in Las Vegas, 1971) Where the Beatles and the Rolling Stones had picked up where Elvis left off, vibrating open young women’s root chakras in the early ‘60s, sending them into dangerous, mob-like hysteria, ripping PAGE 6
off panties and each others’ hair like Band-Aids, by Woodstock the newness of sexual expression and rock ‘n’ roll had mellowed into a languid, though diehard appreciation. At Woodstock, the idea of tickets or conventional crowd control became absurd as the crowd quickly became unmanageable. In what could have easily become a violent and tragic event, a police presence was never needed. Although people were hungry and tired, the ideology of peace prevailed. The Hog Farm members, a commune with ties to Llama, New Mexico, provided basic food and care while local groups started airdropping in sandwiches and other provisions. Though uncomfortable at times, the environment felt safe. For these reasons, Woodstock is now a significant historical event where more than 450,000 people came together as part of a powerful paradigm shift. It was a magical moment in history, never to be repeated. In December 1969, the Altamont Speedway Festival was going to be the West Coast’s answer to Woodstock. The promoters wanted to make it a free concert, promoting a peaceful, free love vibe with all types of people existing together, in harmony. The Rolling Stones, who were headlining, wanted to hire the Hells Angels for security.
Needless to say, the magic of Woodstock could not be duplicated and this festival, which ended in four deaths, brought the innocence of the
‘60s to a violent end. In the years leading up to the Summer of Love the nation had experienced some of the most tumultuous events it had ever seen. The Vietnam War had been raging for years, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, and John and Robert Kennedy had all been assassinated, college campuses were erupting in violent riots, feminists groups were burning their bras in protest, and race conflicts continued at an escalated rate. The beginning of globalization and technology at this time gave youth access to new ideas and information, from the moon landing to Eastern religion, influencing the way they were seeing their world. In September 1968, the television show “60 Minutes” premiered, bringing graphic images of war into the living rooms of nuclear families for the first time in history. Within this moment of national disillusionment, the country’s youth had begun an unplanned, yet dynamic cultural revolution. College students were assembling to protest against a war they found to be unconscionable at Ivy League schools like Columbia University, San Francisco State, and Berkeley. Even when in 1969 the National Guard and California highway patrol tried to control the riots at Berkeley, known as “bloody Thursday,” the youth
prevailed with a reaction that promoted only peace. As the visionaries and voices of the generation, musicians and artists were fundamental in spearheading the revolution. Serving as a platform for creativity and escape, while capturing the struggles hippies were facing in America, the musical Hair premiered on Broadway in April 1968. “The Age of Aquarius,” a number from the musical, would later influence the principles of Woodstock, whose posters call it “An Aquarian Exposition.” Jimi Hendrix, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles, Grateful Dead, Deep Purple, Pink Floyd, and countless others were putting out albums that transported listeners into worlds never before explored in American music. Man was recorded walking on the moon in 1969. Crazy things were happening. And the four main investors in Woodstock were ready to capitalize on the soundtrack of the counter culture movement. In March 1968, an advertisement was placed in the New York Times and The Wall Street Journal by Joel Rosenman and John Roberts, enticing other young men who had indispensable income to partake in a business investment. Rosenman and Roberts, along with songwriter and vice president of Capital Records Artie Kornfield, and head shop owner Michael Lang, wanted to create a record studio in upstate New York, as well as create a musical, cultural, and artistic exposition and rock and roll celebration. The advertisements for the festival focused on peace through music. They invited Wavy Gravy and the Hog Farm to organize a commune-esque vibe for festival goers. They became the caretakers, the guides, and the examples of peaceful living. The rest, as they say, is history.
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Local photographer Lisa Law has had a 50-year career documenting historic events from Haight Ashbury to Woodstock to the New Buffalo Commune. Lisa, who lives in Santa Fe, specializes in documenting history as she has experienced it, using her camera as a powerful weapon to champion human rights and produce riveting insights. Lisa’s Documentary Flashing On The Sixties, and her books, Flashing On The Sixties, and Interviews with Icons, Flashing On The Sixties, are award winning and unique records of the sixties, showing her indefatigable search for memorable human experiences. In 1998, The Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History housed 200 of Law’s photographs in an exhibit entitled, “A Visual Journey: Photographs by Lisa Law,” which was seen by over two million people. Lisa is currently working towards opening a Museum of the Sixties in Santa Fe, which will house exhibits that chronicle the unique history of the 1960s. See more at flashingonthesixties.com In this article we explore 1960s counterculture in New Mexico through the words and experiences of Law, whom fellow New Mexico photographer Doug Magnus has called, “the Queen of the Hippies.”
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Los Angeles raised Doug Magnus arrived with his camera in Santa
Fe at the age of 21, spending the next several years documenting the counterculture in New Mexico and the country. His vast collection of photos capture the spirit and freedom of the era, so much of which happened in our own back yard in the communes and art world of
Northern New Mexico. Today Magnus continues to reside in Santa Fe as a working artist. The following photos were shown at the R.B. Raven Gallery in Taos in an exhibit titled “Edge of Innocence.” Here Magnus recounts his experience living in and documenting this moment in history.
Swiming at Ponce de Leon, New Mexico
Easy Rider was a groundbreaking film. The music and all of it was just mind-blowing stuff. What happened in the ‘60s was that it was all stuff that had never happened before and it will never happen again like that. Things that are that brand new can really take you by surprise, and really rock your world. And it just kept coming, the music kept evolving. In this case that film, Easy Rider, paved the way for how movies were made for a number of years after that. It really introduced independent filmmaking and social commentary.
Gonk Day at the Hog Farm, Llama, New Mexico
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www.douglasmagnus.com
Judge Bill Tate was the justice of the peace that lived in Truchas. He was instrumental in finding the Hog Farm a place to be, and he really facilitated the influx of people, like myself, that were interested in living out in the New Mexico frontier. He was a fascinating guy. He was an artist and a storyteller. He had this propensity for just absorbing all the stories of New Mexico, and living this life up in the mountains that was pretty daring stuff in its day. He just loved everybody. He supported himself on his paintings and his storytelling engagements.
In many respects it was a repressive time, certainly the sexual part of it all eventually, which eventually blew open. Before then, sex was a subject that was never discussed. Catching that wave at exactly the right adolescent time frame, in my case, was really amazing. It’s hard to describe. That’s why I tried to capture the moment with film and video.
The Martinez family that rented homes to the “hippies”.
It’s just the way history works. There are these moments in history when a whole collision coarse of these different forces collide, when you have this whole big gumbo pot of interesting element that come together all at a certain moment. We’d come out of the depression and repression and WWII, and then my generation grew up in the aftermath of that. The parents were not at all liberated and the kids were running wild. And then you had these other elements that came into it such as civil rights, and the beat generation really had a big impact on a lot of us in regards to our social and musical interests. Kerouac’s daughter, Jan, lived right down the street from me on Canyon Road.
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Don Peters, whom Magnus first hitched a ride to New Mexico with at age 21.
Based on a French comic from the early ‘60s by Jean-Claude Forest, the 1968 cult-classic Barbarella is a cinematic acid flashback with post-pinup undertones. Directed by French director Roger Vadim, eventual New Mexico resident Jane Fonda stars as the sexy, psychedelic super hero Barbarella, alongside John Phillip Law as her lover and blind angel Pygar, and Keith Richards’ first wife Anita Pallenberg as The Great Tyrant and Black Queen of Sogo. At the time of its release, the movie’s splash was minimal, but looking back we find the sexual freedom, daring creativity, and quirky, drug influenced plot-building that encapsulates the avant-garde spirit of that era. Whether in the comic or the movie, Barbarella is a women’s sexual liberation icon. She’s super sexy, yes, but beyond that she’s full of character while being playful and out-and-out randy. On the blog “Girls Gone Geek,” Vanessa Gabriel writes, “I found myself tickled at how overtly sexual and delightfully audacious Barbarella’s adventures
are. At no point is she concerned with what someone might think of her exploits or her motivations. While the girl does love to do it, her motivations are as varied as the notches on her bedpost. The very best part is that her story is brought to you 100 percent shame free.” According to Fonda, it took many years before she could watch the movie because she felt her character wasn’t politically correct. Today, we see Barbarella as a girl-power pioneer, taking ownership of her sexuality, a feat not often shown in media, even today. “Slut-shaming has become passive and habitual in many dialogues on female characters’ sexual choices,” writes Gabriel. “So, it’s a beautiful thing to see a female character have total ownership of her body, her desires, her sexuality and her actions, without a hint of apology.” In 2005, Gloria Steinem, Jane Fonda, and Robin Morgan co-founded the Women's Media Center, an organization that works to make women visible and powerful in the media. PAGE 23
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Joy Coy is an Albuquerque-based burlesque
dancer, entertainer and performance artist that moonlights as a copy editor, writer and social media manager.
LA LOCA MAGAZINE: When did you begin dancing and what attracted you to it? JOY COY: I'm a classically trained dancer and have been on stage since I was very young in ballets and theater productions. I starting doing burlesque almost 5 years ago. I was 20 and was attracted to the artistic expression and freedom it offered. Burlesque, the art of strip tease, is also a fantastic celebration of bodies, and I adore it. LLM: What makes you unique? JC: I am part unicorn. LLM: What are three things you can't live without? JC: Glitter, kitten love, and the applause.
LLM: What are you passionate about? JC: Animal rights. I lead a vegan lifestyle and always strive to be an advocate for the liberation and equality of all species. LLM: Who are your heroes and why? JC: You mean SHE-roes? Rupaul Charles, Amy Poehler, the members of Burlesque Noir, Daenerys Targaryen and Morrissey. LLM: What inspires you? JC: Pantone color, Die Antwoord, my peers, dramatics, Chuck Palahniuk, hearing about the hopes and dreams of others, aspects of the human condition and how I can exemplify them as a physical artist. LLM: What have been your greatest accomplishments? JC: Graduating college, quitting smoking, finding true love and living happily ever after.
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It was 1972, the first election in which I was eligible to vote. That year a federal court, backed up by an opinion by the state attorney general, struck down a New Mexico law that required congressional and statewide candidates to put up a $2,500 filing fee. This angered former New Mexico Attorney General Fred Standley. This meant that any ham-and-egger off the street could run for office! So Standley and a group of friends, dubbed by then-Gov. David Cargo as “The Bull Ring Gang,” came up with a colorful idea to draw attention to the situation. They convinced a 28-year-old Bull Ring cocktail waitress and aspiring actress named Sparkle Plenty to file for Congress. (At that time Santa Fe was part of the 1st Congressional District, represented by Republican Manuel Lujan Jr.) Miss Plenty was born Cheryl Lana Boone, but the year before, she’d legally changed her name to “Sparkle Plenty.” The name change itself was on the front page of The New Mexican. She was one of nine candidates to file for the Democratic congressional primary. If Standley and his pals thought she might get some attention, they were right. Besides her work at the political watering hole, her résumé listed her experience as law student,
- Sparkle Plenty
legal secretary, airline stewardess and Playboy bunny. Some of her coverage was blatantly sexist. One report in this very paper described her as “leggy,” while many stories about Plenty dutifully referred to her campaigning in a leather mini-skirt. But her mentor, Standley, soon lost interest in the Sparkle bandwagon. Not long after filing day, the state Supreme Court, responding to a legal challenge by Standley, reinstated the filing-fee requirement. “Veteran political observers feel that the Standley crowd should be sued for breach of promise” for pulling the rug out from under Plenty, said New Mexican columnist Will Hoffman. “Our purpose was accomplished,” Standley told Hoffman. “We’ve demonstrated that this is the most ludicrous situation we ever got into. She accomplished what she wanted — publicity.” (Indeed, her campaign got the attention of national publications, including The New York Times.) The filing fee requirement immediately thinned the herd running for Congress. Four of the nine candidates dropped out. But not Sparkle Plenty. Even though the Bull Ring Gang wasn’t taking her candidacy seriously, Sparkle herself was. “I’m not in this for the publicity,” she said. “Even if I should get a movie contract, I would use the money to start ecological foundations.” She came up with the filing fee, thanks to a contributor, Larry Hunt of Cerrillos, described by this paper as “a self-styled multi-thousandaire and a former sea captain.” She assembled what the paper called “a campaign staff of earnest but bumbling amateurs.” And she won the endorsements of a couple of respectable environmental groups. But she lost the primary, coming in fifth out of five in the contest won by Santa Fe lawyer Gene Gallegos, whom nobody described as “leggy,” and who went on to be defeated by Lujan in the general election. Before the end of the ’70s, the filing fee again was declared unconstitutional, and it was replaced by the current screwy petition system.
A version of this was published in “The Santa Fe New Mexican,” Aug. 5, 2012
John loosened his tie from the constraints of his starched button-up shirt, displaying his moist neck to the delightful freedom of air. Not sure if it was the humid Virginia heat or the anticipation of what his boss might say, but even his narrow shoes seemed to be suffocating him. Those shoes, thought John, glaring down in disgust at their winged tips, those shoes, the color of burgundy wine without any of its delights. “Mr. Marsello,” interrupted John's bank manager, “We are unable to get your shift covered this weekend. Saturdays are busy and I need you here. If you don't show up, we'll have to let you go.” There it was, the big boss's decision, but really it had never been up to him. “Think about the future you could have here,” added his white-collared superior. He was thinking about his future, and as he walked out of Virginia National Bank, his manager's ultimatum evaporating into the summer sun, he knew that his future was going to the Woodstock Pop Music Festival. John had discovered the music lover's wet dream of a lineup in Rolling Stone a few months earlier and was determined to catch the festival. He and a few friends had coughed up $18 to purchase their three-day tickets. Should be worth the cash, he thought. After rumors that the show had been canceled and relocated, and that the promoters were receiving a lot of heat from the local PD, many of John's friends had bailed, leaving him road tripping with one casual friend. Scott Keck was a year older than John, having graduated from Annandale High School the summer before. They weren't close, but it was good to have someone to get stoned and shoot the shit with, while splitting the gas money on the long journey from Virginia to Bethel, New York. Ditching the restrictive dress clothes for a newly broken-in pair of Levis, cowboy boots and a faded tan vest, John completed his only weekend outfit with his favorite wide-brimmed, brown leather hat. Damn the bank for making him cut his curly dark hair to a conservative above-the-ear chop. Swapping his ’67 Triumph Bonneville for a shinny new Plymouth, and with Steppenwolf blaring on an eight-track, John revved the 426 hemi and took flight. Eight hours later and with nearly their entire weekend’s cash stash guzzled up in gas, John and Scott found themselves at a standstill on the New York State Freeway with cars backed up for miles before the Bethel exit. Impatient and hungry, the two decided to head an hour north to get a solid feed and visit John's grandparents in his hometown of Schenectady, New York. A fortunate detour, the massive meal that Big Ma, John's 4'11” Italian granny, force fed them served to sustained the skinny young men during what would be a weekend of only drug and alcohol consumption. But it was his Grandad that provided the hidden key to their Woodstock success. “Since I can't talk you boys out of going down there, maybe I can find you a better route into that mess, without traffic,” conceded old man Dutcher, producing a decaying parchment map with an abandoned logging road. Blending into the dense green forest that continued to thicken around them, John and Scott cruised down the forgotten road, bypassing thousands of people stuck and dismally turned away by cops on the major roads. With the gas tank dangerously low, John was finally forced to stop the car at a stand of baby saplings barricading their path. Cutting the engine, he sparked up a joint to ease the possible pain of turning back. As he passed PAGE 34
it to Scott, the sweet herbal smoke still lingering in his lungs, an excited commotion of music, automobiles and life filled the forest’s serene stillness. Grandad Dutcher's map had brought them just beneath the festivals' main road, and revving that engine once more over the young saplings, the green Roadrunner emerged from the brush to join the parade of vehicles creeping the last few miles to Max Yasgur's dairy farm. Packing a blanket, his ticket, a massive ball of Nepalese hash and his remaining $8, John and Scott ditched their car and joined the colorful stream of people. Like an animated circus coming to town, hippies, soldiers and flower children hung from the roofs, hoods and sides of cars, hitching a ride on anything that moved in a state of near mob-like pandemonium. Vendors lined the road, hawking jewelry, drugs, crosses, and deer antler hash pipes to the crowd. But throughout the diverse chaos a sense of love and companionship was felt by all. The cars tapered off as the crowd approached the remnants of a front gate that had never stood a chance against the 500,000 people coming to the show. Walking through the entrance, John threw his ticket on the ground with hundreds of others, protesting that they had ever been charged at all. Inside, John and Scott set up camp, throwing their blankets onto dry ground at stage left. They hunkered down near a large tent because it looked like rain and a friend with a tent might come in handy. When the skies opened up each afternoon and the rain came pouring down in sheets, John's ball of hash became the key into that tent, and they were good friends to have indeed. Perched on a white bedspread, encircled by followers and microphones, appeared Sri Swami Satchidananda on the stage. Sitting zenly cross-legged, his wiry grey beard flowing onto a peach robe, the yoga guru addressed the crowd. “My beloved brothers and sisters...Music is a celestial sound and it is the sound that controls the whole universe, not atomic vibrations. Sound energy, sound power, is much, much greater than any other power in this world.” As the Guru christened the stage, John gently closed his eyes, allowing his body and mind to be consumed by the power of music filling him with life. Days spilled into wet nights as an endless soundtrack played throughout all hours. They occasionally slept when the music paused, bodies dropping where their dancing stopped, emerging minutes to hours later, leaving snow angel-like imprints behind them on the muddy ground. Raindrops graced the skin of bare, dancing tits, while free love lovers frolicked under makeshift tents. But for John it was all about the music. Beautiful girls were everywhere. The smell of patchouli drifted as their hands floated above flowing, flowered hair, and swaying hips invited the possibility of a blissful kiss. But the seduction, the foreplay and the ecstasy of Woodstock came from the strumming fingers and instrumental
lips on stage. John lost his Santana virginity, discovering the relativity unknown 19-year-old with his dancy guitar rift flare. For John, the climax came at dawn on Sunday when The Who played the entirety of their rock opera “Tommy.” As Roger Daltrey sang, “See me, feel me, touch me,” bringing sight to the blind and deaf pinball wizard, the first rays of the morning sun pierced through the sky and it was John and the audience who could see, feel and touch the cosmic connection, knowing in that moment they were all one, being brought into the light. When Monday morning came, Jimi Hendrix took the stage to close the show. Drenched, dirty and starving, John dragged himself out of the trashed mud pit and headed out of the show. Pneumonia and hunger were setting in, but to John, none of that mattered. As Hendrix turned the “Star Spangled Banner” into his own wondrous creation, John became sure of two things: His life would never be the same again, and he would never return to the bank or those dreadful wing-tipped shoes. His life of conformity had been washed away in the mud.
Before there were hippies or “love ins,” before Vietnam protests, and the fight for gender and racial equalities, the drum of social change was already beginning to, well, beat in America. This pre-hippy subculture, known as the Beat Generation, can be generalized as a group of artsy, post-World War II bohemian hedonists who liked to smoke grass, pop reds and bennies, swill cheap wine, listen to jazz, and do as they damned well pleased, often – to the horror of the establishment – putting pen to paper as they did so, leaving behind a rich written legacy of that time. These forefathers of counterculture were primarily a group of young New York-based intellectuals and writers who frequented the city’s jazz clubs, slums and universities, questioning American values, social norms, and sexuality. The visionaries that defined this PAGE 36
era in American history can be found in the writers, poets and characters Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac, Neal Cassady, William Burroughs and Lawrene Ferlinghetti, to name a few. Literary legend has it the term itself, “beat,” originated with a street hustler named Herbert Huncke to describe the beat-down and tired condition present in African American communities at the time. In a 1956 Playboy interview, Kerouac tells how he appropriated the image of being “beat to your socks,” giving it a new connotation of “beatitude.” By 1958, a few months after Russia launched sputnik, San Francisco Chronicle columnist Herb Caen had coined the hybrid term “beatnik.” It would become a word used not only to distinguish a group of friends, but to represent a new school of thought and a fresh cultural
perspective symbolizing freedom – freedom from materialism and conformity, of expression, sexuality, and of the open road. While post-war disillusionment, jazz, drugs and sex are all regarded as major influences on beatism, a lesser explored, though obvious player in the creation of beat culture were cars. I mean, without cars, man, there would have been no On the Road, or Mexico City Blues, and there certainly wouldn’t have been a car stealing, fast driving, womanizing Neal Cassady – the original greaser. With the beat heyday in the years between 1947-1964, and with bad boys at the wheel like Cassidy and Kerouac, it goes without saying that these guys and their peers did their part to influence the world of hot rodding. Although they were non-conforming poets and literary types that aren’t associated with hot rodding at all, when you crack the spine of On The Road you’ll long to hop in a ‘37 Ford and take off across Texas, headed for Mexico to find 10 cent beer, readily
available reefer, and laid back cops. The transient lifestyle of the beats would later inspire the hippy culture, and though Route 66 is only briefly mentioned in On The Road, it deftly captures the aura of beatnik cross-country driving. The spirit of speed and mobility that folks like Kerouac embraced live on in car culture today. Formed in the early 1990s, the Beatniks of Koolsville Car Club is a very exclusive and illusive club with an invite only policy and membership for life, allowing only 1950s style customs. A very selective worldwide organization, you don’t ask to be a part of Koolsville, you get asked. Some members you might recognize are James Hetfield, Jeff Meyers and his ’57 Cadillac Eldorado Seville, Dennis McPhail, and New Mexico’s very own Daddy-O Willy Fisher. Some might argue that notable hot rodders like Kenneth Howard (Von Dutch) and Ed “Big Daddy” Roth could have been beatniks. Von Dutch was from the right time and place, lived in a bus, and was rumored to play the flute to a jazz radio station. That’s pretty bohemian. And then of course there is Roth’s legendary Beatnik Bandit, built in 1961, originally as a project for “Rod & Custom Magazine.” The Beatnik Bandit is a super custom, one-off show car with a plexiglass canopy bubble top and a fiberglass body. Roth shortened a 1950 Olds chassis, supercharged the 303 cubic inch olds motor, and induction came from twin Ford carbs. The car was operated by a center mounted chrome joystick. This car is ginchy, man. The body work is perfect and it’s topped by a Winfield paint job. Rumor has it that Ed Roth couldn’t pay Gene Winfield to paint it so he traded him RatFink Tee shirts to get it done. If that ain’t Beatnik influence in the hot rodding world I don’t know what is.
1961 Roth Beatnik Bandit Custom Hot Rod Courtesy of the National Automobile Museum (The Harrah Collection), Reno, NV PAGE 26
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Two years ago, folks in Tucumcari weren’t sure what “a rockabil-
ly” was. Today Mayor Lumpkin is the self-proclaimed Ambassador of The Rockabilly, boasting, “Everywhere I went in Brooklyn I told people about Rockabilly on the Route.” Created in 2013 by La Loca Magazine owner Ungelbah Davila and Charleston-based Simon Cantlon, owner of Vive le Rock Productions, this rockabilly weekender is quickly changing the face of Eastern New Mexico. The creators, which now operate as Pink Flamingo Productions, chose the unassuming town of Tucumcari for its rich Route 66 history, colorful characters, and mid-century flair. Since then the festival has grown into the largest of its kind in the state, drawing the attention of the New Mexico Tourism Department, PBS, and bands from as far away as Japan, Norway, and Colombia. Unlike rockabilly festivals and car shows that are confined to a single venue, Rockabilly on the Route takes over the entire town, from the convention center-based car and bike show (hosted by the Voodoo Creeps Car Club and Duke City Rockers), to the cruise and parade down Route 66, to parking lot burn-outs, after parties at the Tristar Bar, pop-up drive-in movies at the Roadrunner Lodge, and band performances at businesses town-wide. The benefit of this? Visitors get to experience the charm and history of this neon-clad burg in the desert while staying in renovated mid-century hotels like the Safari, Historic 66, and Blue Swallow. Even better, the town itself, which has experienced a gradual economic decline since the interstate was build around it, reaps the rewards of all this gas-guzzling, beer-drinking, burger-eating tourism. “We’ve found that this is a creative way to stimulate economic development in Tucumcari without compromising any of the historic infrastructure,” says Davila. “Rather, we are embracing our Route 66 heritage by bringing it into a fun, contemporary context.” From its inception, the festival has operated as a benefit for the city’s burgeoning New Mexico Route 66 Museum. (www.visit-
tucumcarinm.com) The museum, housed in the convention center, is a grassroots enterprise to commemorate Tucumcari’s Mother Road legacy and position as the eastern Route 66 gateway to New Mexico. Currently the museum's displays include the world's largest Route 66 photo exhibit with over 166 photos of Route 66 from Chicago to L.A., a Loretta Lynn autographed Route 66 guitar, interactive history exhibits, a collection of classic cars, memorabilia, and more. The museum’s founders, Bob Beaulieu, Gary Cardwell, John Dugger, Larry Bond and Richard Talley, immediately grasped the vision of Rockabilly on the Route and became instrumental in the festival's success. "During last year's festival alone, Rockabilly on the Route brought in over 1,000 visitors to the museum and approximately $2,000.00 in combined donations," reported board member and Vice President Bob Beaulieu. "The festival has been a major boost to our museum each year, as well as bringing thousands of new visitors to our community, and experiencing a small portion of what New Mexico's Route 66 has to offer," says Talley, museum board member. Talley, who owns the Motel Safari, dedicated a suite to the event, which houses many Rockabilly on the Route commemorative items, as well as many of its musical artists’ memorabilia. In 2013 Rockabilly Queen Wanda Jackson headlined the event alongside The Chop Tops, encouraging team ROR that they were on to something and to keep it up. The following year, the festival went international, bringing in Norwegian band The Lucky Bullets, and Colombians Los Dorados Rockabilly Trio, as well as Ultimate Elvis tribute artist Justin Shandor, Eddie Clendening and teenage sensation Mad Max and the Wild Ones. Always looking to up the ante, the 2015 lineup will be headlining Japanese rockabilly band The Gretsch Brothers, Toronto’s Creep Show, Wayne “The Train” Hancock, and Hard Fall Heart. Follow along at rockabillyontheroute.com.
photos courtesy of James Lout Photography, Pinup by Liz, Carmen Marsello, and Nikki Delaney PAGE 26
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by ungelbah davila
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Jessica Garrett Photo: Unge;bah Davila
Finally, spring is here! Now get excited, these next few months are going to be very beneficial for everyone if you can tap into your creative energy and apply it. Not to sound cliché, but look into mediation, yoga or even some kind of energy work, something to spark that connection that's open to us all. Plant some seeds, literally, with intentions of new growth, and watch them grow physically and in your life. Aries – March 21st to April 19th
Alright Aries, it's time to get over thinking, "I shoulda coulda woulda," and move forward. This was a rocky start to the year for many of us, and you take it to a new level. So, take a deep breath, let go of what you can't control, and focus on all the new opportunities knocking. If you don't see it, you aren't looking. It's time to step out of your comfort zone and do something that freaks you out.
Taurus – April 20th to May 20th
My dear, stubborn Taurus, it's time to cut some cords. Take a look back at the grudges, the negative emotional attachments, and the crap you're holding onto from your past. See it? Now imagine it catching fire and leaving you. Letting it go and not giving it another thought may be harder than it seems, but I'm daring you to do so. These next few weeks are crucial to you. Instead of dwelling on anything that doesn't better you, count your blessings, give daily gratitude for all you have, and take those deep seeded dreams, hopes and wishes, and get to working on them. You'll be surprised at what's in store for you.
Gemini – May 21st to June 20th
These next few weeks are going to be a bit tricky for you. Yes, it's spring and I know that encourages both sides of you to go full force, but with the balanced energy right above you until June, I would utilize that for personal balance. Control your over-thinking and work on your inner-self. It's time to stir up that deep fear, kick it's ass, and realize you have had the control the whole time. My suggestion is to find a pool or even a warm bath and do this practice several times to help you ground yourself and relax enough to think clearly.
Cancer – June 21st to July 22nd
This has definitely been a not-so-expected start to the year. Now it's spring and the smell in the air is putting that extra kick in your step. Yes, you've probably had all your nerves tested beyond belief the last few months, and probably felt like you were becoming stuck or stagnate, but that’s all gonna change in the next few weeks. You may feel an extra push and pull towards things you've probably not notice much before. Take a leap and trust your gut. Step out of your comfort zone, take a risk and do it. This will definitely be the weeks, months and year to make the brutal and positive changes you need to make your dreams manifest.
Leo – July 23rd to August 22nd
Over these next few weeks you'll find it easy to let go of past grudges and any anger you may have had towards family or past friends. This will help you fine-tune your natural gifts a lot more. Your gift of being a good speaker, or just holding conversation even when there isn't anything to chat about, could get you an opportunity in something more public. I say reach out, especially with the eclipse coming, and utilize what you’ve got and try something completely new.. I bet it'll pay off in more ways than one PAGE 46
be rewarded.
Virgo – August 23rd to Sept. 22nd It's been a bit of a mess lately. Well, to you it seems this way. But really it's all falling into place, almost like a karmic balancing act. Go with the flow because although you are more a planner than a risk-taker, you have to step out of your comfort bubble to experience anything new. So, I suggest you conquer a fear or something you've been hesitant about. Your actions will absolutely
Libra – Sept. 23rd to October 22nd
You have probably been experiencing mood swings more often than normal, or even feeling very unappreciated. You are not the only one my dear Libra. You need to stop and think before you speak or act out because it's literally in the stars, and now that it's passing you'll feel a huge relief and get to take advantage of all that spring has to offer. Clean out the old, get rid of it and focus on all you have with extreme gratitude. I suggest you get some alone time, take a break from everything for a day or so, and make time to enjoy all the new around you.
Scorpio – October 23rd to Nov. 21st
If it felt like this winter was working against you rather than with you, with you, it's ok because spring is upon us and it's time to reinvent yourself. Get out more, socialize more and keep your confidence at a higher level. With so much to work with over the next few weeks, it's just up to you to get out and utilize what ya got!
Sagittarius – Nov. 22nd to Dec. 21st
I know you think you're social, but can really only name a few people you are close to. It's time to buck up! Over the next five to six weeks you should get out more, mingle in places you don't usually mingle, and enjoy new people and their stories. You may get something you definitely need and have been wanting.
Capricorn – Dec. 22nd to Jan.19th
You tend to focus only on what you feel you're good at. Well, I'm here to tell you it's time to change it up a bit. This spring is perfect timing to pick up a new hobby, learn a new skill, or reintroduce yourself to something you feel you've lost. With Jupiter's energy resonating around, it'll make it seem easy peasy. Those seeds ain't gonna grow unless they’re watered.
Aquarius – Jan. 20th to Feb. 18th
What a whirlwind of a year so far, eh? So, I propose a new plan. Chinese new year passed and now with spring’s arrival, the year gets a new itch that you don't quite know how to scratch. Well, it's time to push aside the pity party, see your goal, and do whatever it takes to accomplish it, because you are strong enough and bad ass enough to get anything done you set your sights on. Do it!
Pisces – Feb. 19th to March 20th
My lovely Pisces, spring is always a time for many forms of love. Either new relationships, a new pet, or a new passion. What does this mean to you? Well, it's time to cut out anything toxic from you life, including people, addictions, debt, etc. And I know getting overwhelmed for you is very easy, but honestly, there is no problem unless you make one. See that light around you and bring in something new! Seth Browder comes from a family of mediums. He continues to learn every day by using his energy work teachings and weaving them into his daily practices. Seth’s heightened intuition helps conjure daily forecast readings, as well as weekly and monthly horoscopes, to foretell and guide those in need.