According to Moonalice legend, great tribal leaders go to the Happy Hemp Ground through a small number of temporal portals, which are High Holy Days in the Moonalice calendar. One of highes of these holy days is December 8. It witnessed the passing of such luminaries as Bob Bell (the original Bozo the Clown, who died in 1997), Big Walter Horton (1982), Slim Pickins (1983), and John Lennon (1980), whose contributions to the tribe are memorialized in a giant granite sculpture on Mt. Rush in Buzzville, Oregon.
With Jack on the road with Hot Tuna, Moonalice 6 made its first appearance since August.
Eilen Jewell opens According to Moonalice legend, the tribe’s East Coast farmers – known as preppie hippies – specialized in products for the shipping industry. Beginning in the 18th century, preppie hippies along Chesapeake Bay produced high quality rope and other hemp derivatives for the navy. Initially this meant the British Navy, but in 1775 the tribe aligned itself with the rebellion. As the first supplier of hemp products to the United States Navy, the Moonalice tribe played an unreported, but legendary role in the fight for independence. When the band arrived in Annapolis, Maryland, home of the United States Naval Academy, we immediately searched for evidence of the tribe. We didn’t have to look very far. Across the street from our hotel was a deli. Hardwood and Chubby Wombat were there in search of refreshing beverages when they made the discovery. It was in the refrigerator section: Hempmilk! The label called it a “creamy non-dairy beverage made from whole hemp nuts.” Milk from nuts? It makes us wonder what they call the beverage that comes from hemp udders. Housed in a purple and white one-quart package for long shelf life, the Hempmilk just begged us to buy, so we did. We took it to the gig and asked the audience for volunteers. They said it tastes like soy milk, not chicken. The band was too afraid to drink the stuff, so this will have to be the last word on the subject. For now. That said, we would point out that Hempmilk provides indisputable evidence of the evolution of the Moonalice tribe. If the Navy doesn’t need rope, let the sailors drink Hempmilk!!!! According to the Moonalice calendar (and tribal custom), attendance at gigs entitles tribal audience members to fall back on Moonalice Standard Time (MAST). The nice thing about MAST is that everyone can fall back as far as they like, as often as they like. If you are in doubt, the band recommends falling back to your 21st birthday, but that is only a guideline. If your boss gives you any flack for showing up late after a gig, just tell him or her that Chubby Wombat Moonalice said it’s okay. Really.
According to Moonalice legend, the river’s edge in northern New Jersey was home to a major tribal trading center. The village of Hempneck was legendary for its harvest pow-wow, Big Bud, a forty-day smoke fest that drew thousands. Our research revealed that fossilized roaches were found during the pre-construction excavation at what is now Mexicali Blues, indicating that this may have been the site of ancient Big Bud pow-wows. Further research revealed that prissy Brits stamped out the Big Bud in the early 18th century. Whether this was to control the natives or to take the product for themselves remains unclear. What is clear is that the British changed the name of the town to Teaneck, and American patriots rebelled. Led by noted hemp farmer George Washington, the colonists staged a revolution to protect life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. In retrospect, the whole revolution thing makes way more sense in the context of this vital fact. Think about it. Why would anyone start a war over tea? It had to be over something way cooler than tea. Duh.
The set list:
Distance
Crazy in Heaven
Fair to Even Odds
Eyesight to the Blind
I’m Glad You Think So
I Ain’t Ever Satisfied
Blink of an Eye
Nick of Time
Listen to Those Eyes
Road to Here >> Jumpin’ Jack Flash
Kick It Open
Happy Endings
Barbary Ellen
Dance Inside the Lightning
Somebody to Love*
Constellation Rag*
Messin’ with the Kid*
Tell Me It’s Okay*
Stella Blue*
Bleeding of Love*
Sugaree*
Like A Rolling Stone*
* with Barry Mitterhoff (Hot Tuna) on mandolin
According to Moonalice legend, the great patriot George Washington was a member of the tribe. Everyone knows he was a Mason and our first president, but his role in the Moonalice legend has been obscured by the passage of time. It turns out that after chopping down the cherry tree and not lying about it, George was sent off to spend some time with the Moonalice tribe in Northern Virginia. They taught him how to be a farmer – a hippie, if you will – and George went on to a distinguished career as a plantation owner. Contrary to popular wisdom, the Washington plantation was devoted the cultivation of America’s most important indigenous crop, hemp. Given the critical nature of hemp in the economy of the period, it was natural that a hippie such as Washington would be put in charge of first the army and then the country as a whole. While people were less uptight in those days than they are today, they nonetheless used a code to let the general know when they were in need of additional hemp products. The code, which is still in use today, was brilliant in its simplicity. If you needed supplies, you put up a sign that said, “George Washington slept here.” Judging by the signs around Huntington, demand for hemp products appears to be very strong.
The set list:
Distance
Crazy in Heaven
Fair to Even Odds
Constellation Rag
Can’t Hold Out
Listen to Those Eyes
Like A Rolling Stone
Messin’ with the Kid
Kick It Open
Slow Dance
Nick of Time
Dusty Streets of Cairo
Dance Inside the Lightning
Dink’s Blues
Somebody to Love
Happy Endings
Stella Blue
Bleeding of Love
Sugaree
Goin’ Down the Road*
*with Rob Barracco (Dark Star Orchestra) on vocals and keyboards and Erin Hill on harmony vocals.
According to Moonalice legend, the Boston Tea Party story is phony. Like you, we were surprised to discover this, but the legend is quite specific on this point. History books claim that a group of patriots dressed up as Indians rowed across Boston harbor to a British ship loaded with tea. They climbed aboard, found the cargo of tea and dumped it in the harbor to protest British taxation. Moonalice legend offers a very different version. Apparently, a group of young tribe members heard that a ship had arrived in Boston with a large cargo of hemp products. They boarded the ship and searched it, only to discover – after much smoking and coughing – that cargo was actually tea. In a fit of pique, they dumped it overboard. Patriot leaders saw the tea crates floating in the harbor and quickly claimed credit. The rest, as they say, is history.
Another tidbit from Moonalice legend: we discovered that the ancient Moonalice tribe played a game called Socks, Rocks, Diamond Backs. It was apparently a predecessor to the modern game of Rock, Scissors, Paper, but the rules were way more primitive. Rocks beat Diamond Backs, but Socks (or Sox, as they were known to the tribe) beat everything. Surprisingly, game remains popular among tribe members in the Boston area.
The set list:
Distance
Eyesight to the Blind
Fair to Even Odds
Listen to Those Eyes
I’m Glad You Think So
I Ain’t Ever Satisfied
Kick It Open
Blink of an Eye
Nick of Time
Junko Partner
Crazy in Heaven
Happy Endings
Heart Frozen Up
Wake Up Little Susie*
Train Don’t Come Here No Mo’*
Somebody to Love
Constellation Rag
Bleeding of Love
Stella Blue
Highway 61 >>
Done Somebody Wrong
Goin’ Down the Road**
* with Lorin and Chris Rowan (Rowan Bros.) on guitar and vocals
Other acts: Ekoostik Hookah, Particle, RAQ, Great American Taxi
According to Moonalice legend, Halloween falls at the end of October because it’s too cold in November to go door-to-door for candy. In some parts of North America even October is too late. The tribe in Ohio lobbied for years to move Halloween into July to optimize both the weather and the hours of daylight, but they were overruled by the forces of tradition. Too bad. Nelson Ledges Quarry Park is beautiful. On this day, it was cold and rainy, which was hard on our fingers, but had zero impact on the audience, whose enthusiasm and costumes reflected their Moonalice heritage.
According to Moonalice legend, the tribe has long encouraged the provision of aid and comfort to creatures with very large heads. We would love this idea no matter what, but really big heads are a Moonalice genetic trait, so we’ve got to like it as a matter of tribal loyalty. We are reminded of big heads each year during football season, when every college team plays under the control of some critter that looks what you would get if Van Gogh went to Easter Island. When the band arrived in Columbus, home of the #1 Buckeyes, we were greeted by the Mascot-in-Chief of the local football squad. One look at Brutus Buckeye and we understood the greatness of the Ohio State football team. Brutus is so obviously a Moonalice that it isn’t funny. But who is Cousin Brutus trying to fool with this Buckeye thing? He’s a Hempster from way back. Everybody knows that, don’t they? Don’t they?
According to Moonalice legend, the tribe figured prominently in the history of the Windy City. We did some research and discovered that Moonalice’s impact on Chicago was sometimes a mixed blessing. For example, the ne’er-do-well Cletus “Sparky” Moonalice was a 19th Century Cow Whisperer, who was working for a woman named O’Leary when things went terribly wrong. Whispers turned to yelling. Sparks turned to flames. Chicago burned to the ground. Burdened by this knowledge, the band showed up at Martyr’s, determined to make it up to the city of Chicago. By all reports, they did so.
According to Moonalice legend, beer goes really well with hemp. Tribe members in the upper Midwest discovered this in the 19th century, when a bunch of European immigrants with funny names moved into the neighborhood and started brewing. Blatz, Schlitz, and Miller settled into the Milwaukee area. Their insistence on the use of hops instead of hemp surprised the local Moonalice tribe, but their disappointment didn’t last long, as the symbiosis between beer and hemp quickly became obvious to all. Pretty soon thereafter, the tribe discovered German sausages. Hmm-mm good.
Shank Hall is the successor to one of the core locations in the film, “This Is Spinal Tap.” Stonehenge – the 18-inch version from the movie – is now suspended over the drum riser, which did wonders for the low tones at our show.
TRUSTe 10th Anniversary Gala
According to Moonalice legend, privacy ceremonies have been central to the tribal experience from its earliest days. The ceremonies began as a form of hide and seek, with everyone running in different directions and not coming back until dinner. Over the years, Moonalice privacy ceremonies evolved with technology. Fire and the wheel led to particularly compelling innovations – it’s hard to overstate the importance of fire in Moonalice culture, particularly with respect to the consumption of certain agricultural products – but subsequent technologies had an impact, as well.
In recent times, the forces of darkness have attacked the tribe, invading its privacy from every direction. Fortunately, TRUSTe emerged in 1997 to defend the tribe (and everyone else) from web-based attacks. While TRUSTe has not yet eliminated all threats to privacy, it’s the best hope we have. That’s why the band played the gig for TRUSTe’s 10th anniversary.
According to Moonalice legend, the white men who settled in what is now Ashland, OR were greeted by the local chief, Shakespeare Moonalice. Ol’ Shakespeare fancied himself as a thespian, and taught the white men to appreciate the finer points of dramatic exposition. His influence on Ashland was profound and his legacy can be seen today in the Best Western that bears his likeness.
According to Moonalice legend, there’s no bidness like show bidness. Dat’s right! It’s like no bidness we know. The lovely city of Ashland proved the point by simulcasting our shows on the web to a global audience. (We had a viewer in the Ivory Coast!!!!) Now dat’s good bidness!
According to Moonalice legend, tribe members believed in a metaphysical oasis where music would be combined with pizza to induce a euphoria that would last all night. The oasis was known to the tribe as a “lounge.” The band’s Northwest tour included two lounge gigs – in Portland and Seattle – and a veritable cornucopia of euphoria. Seattle was especially euphoric, thanks to a large and rowdy audience and the leftover euphoria from the prior night’s show in Portland.
According to Moonalice legend, rainfall makes you smarter. Lots of rain makes you much smarter. The rain in Portland is off the scale, which suggests that the people there should be brilliant. The band’s experience bears this out. Seriously. That’s how it is. You guys in the desert are at a big disadvantage. That’s what the legend says. You can look it up.
According to Moonalice legend, the pioneers in Denver, Colorado arrived to find the place inhabited by a small group of native American farmers cultivating an indigenous plant with many uses. The farmers were members of the Moonalice tribe. The crop in question is well known to all students of the Moonalice legend. The white men (and women) found many uses for the crop and for many it remains a staple of life in the Rockies. At least that’s what we’re told . . .
According to Moonalice legend, the tribe would throw a great party when the large mountain range crushes the rattlesnake. We had absolutely no idea what this meant until we arrived in Denver on October 12. That night, the local baseball team, the Rockies, beat the Arizona Diamondbacks in the first game of what would ultimately be a four game sweep. While hardly a eureka moment to rival Archimedes in the bathtub, it was a big one by our standards. So was the gig at the Oriental. Our good friends Vince Herman and Great American Taxi opened the show.
According to Moonalice legend, there is a correlation between the size of any tribal gathering and quality of the music. In Moonalice-speak, the bigger the pow-wow, the deeper the groove. Someone may even have said, “da bigga da bottom, da betta da buzz,” but until October 7, we had no confirmation. Hardly Strictly Bluegrass is a small slice of heaven that appears in San Francisco every October. This year there were 72 bands on six stages over two and half days. And it’s all free, thanks to the generosity of Warren Hellman, banjo-picker extraordinaire. The Moonalice band played a 45-minute set at noon on a beautiful Sunday, to an audience that numbered somewhere between 10,000 and 30,000. As pow-wows go, this one was huge, as was the groove. If you don’t believe us, check out the recording. It’ll be available soon.
According to Moonalice legend, gambling was not an approved tribal activity. There was a time – ages ago – when the ancient Moonalice tribe gave casino gambling a try, but it didn’t work out. Members of the tribe opened a Go Fish parlor in Nevada, but lost so much money the first night that they closed the place down and left the state. In modern times, the Moonalice band received a gracious invitation from the Las Vegas Jam Band Society to play a gig at the Four Queens Hotel. Only after our manager checked to make sure there was no way to bet on Go Fish did we accept. Boy, are we glad we did. The Canyon Club is a terrific venue, with sofas, overstuffed chairs, a really nice sound system, and lots of music fans. Under the watchful eye of Roadkill Moonalice, the tribe managed to leave Sin City with their wallets intact. Phew!!!
According to Moonalice legend, there is a happy party ground where tribe members find spiritual fulfillment. No one knows what everyone did at the happy party ground, but it must have been good, as no tribe member is known to have left it. Some students of Moonalice legend have suggested that the primary activities were pinochle and basket weaving. Others have talked of experimentation with wild mushrooms and smoked items. Fish, for example. Our final Jewels show of the season occurred at lunch time on a beautiful Tuesday. The square was filled, except for an area on the west side where the city has put a huge zen garden. Face with a choice between raking rocks and playing music, the band opted for music, as did the audience.
According to Moonalice legend, the higher the audience, the better the band. In ancient times, Moonalice bands and Moonalice hippies lived in harmony, sharing low tones and hemp derivatives to mutual benefit. In modern times, no audience has been higher for Moonalice show than the one in Big Sky. The stage was 7,200 feet above sea level!!! And the stage was actually the lowest level of the amphitheater. Moonalice legend says little about thin air, but the band did some training at the gig in Tahoe City, where the elevation was 6,000 feet. Chubby Wombat is convinced that audiences are hogging all the oxygen at these high elevation venues. No matter. The legend proved correct again, as Big Sky’s audience helped the band play at a new level. Showtime was 6pm, a twilight hour in the mountains, pretty much as late as a band can play outdoors in Big Sky without freezing to death. The mountain rocked . . . it’s part of the legend.
According to Moonalice legend, television is the hemp of the missus, as she is the one tied to the remote. On this lovely morning in San Francisco, the tribe transformed itself into the Friday Morning Live Band for a road trip edition of CNBC’s top rated show, Power Lunch. Chubby Wombat Moonalice’s fur was flying as he was interviewed from the poop deck of a tall ship that resides at Hyde Street Pier. The band played five “bumps” – 15-second fragments of songs – designed to lessen the trauma of the advertising to follow. We also played a full version of Nick of Time, and a four-song snack that followed Power Lunch.
According to Moonalice legend, the tribal hierarchy in ancient times was determined by height and altitude. Not surprisingly, this conveyed great power (known in tribal circles as "buzz") to those who inhabited mountain regions. The band's gig in Tahoe City indicated that nothing has changed. The Labor Day Weekend crowd at the Sawtooth Ridge had a buzz on that could only have been earned through determination and hard work. We were happy to provide the soundtrack for an evening of joyous revelry.
Other acts: Jefferson Starship, Quicksilver Messenger Service, It's A Beautful Day
According to Moonalice legend, the ancient tribal occupations of hemp farming and music produced great harmony. Such was the energy of the tribe in those times that it created hemp and music in prodigious volumes. Happiness reigned supreme in the tribe, which partied continuously for the better part of a millennium, until everyone finally ran out rope and other hemp derivatives. Hemp grew naturally throughout the land, but it didn’t harvest itself. For that, hard work was required. Not much, but hard. Just a few days a year. No one was happy about having to break up the party for something as unseemly as work, but the tribal elders could see no way around it. So they created Labor Day Weekend, a three-day harvest that represented the entire work product of the tribe. You can look it up.
According to Moonalice legend, the Coming of the Seventh will be a cause for much rejoicing in the tribe. While the ceremonial details have been lost to the fog of history, legend has it that the arrival of the Seventh generally involved much drinking, dancing, and carrying on. In short, the Coming of the Seventh is like any other Moonalice celebation, and then some. And so it was this Friday night in Santa Cruz. Yggdrassil Moonalice – known elsewhere as Jack Casady – returned to the band, bringing with him an extraordinary range of low tones, to say nothing of wisdom and cool eyebrows. To the surprise of no one, there was much drinking, dancing, and carrying on.
According to Moonalice legend, all pigs are created equal. In modern times, however, one pig is more equal than others. That pig is KPIG, and the band stopped in for a short set on the way to Moe’s Alley. In a cozy studio masquerading as a motel, KPIG provides an oasis of great music in the increasingly yack-filled world of FM radio. Apparently that is part of Moonalice legend, too.
According to Moonalice legend, the Coming of the Seventh will be proceeded by the Introduction of the Fifth. Every Moonalice school child knows the Seventh to be Yggdrassil, a bass player of such prodigious talent that all other bass players would take up other instruments. But who or what is the Fifth? Such a mystery!!! Could it be a bottle of scotch consumed by disappointed band members who have been forced to give up their four-stringed instruments in favor of those with six or eighty-eight strings? Or could it be something else? The mystery has finally been solved. At rehearsal for this gig in Union Square, Half Moonalice, the distaff member of the band, took up the bass for the very first time. She was the fifth member of the modern Moonalice troupe to perform on the exalted instrument. Showing a technique that may one day revolutionize bass playing, Half riffed like a madwoman, causing some to wonder what the big deal is with this Yggdrassil guy. Moonalice insiders know the truth. Yggdrassil is none other than Jack Casady, who will rejoin Moonalice later this week in Santa Cruz. As a result, the gig in Union Square may represent the final appearance on bass – for now, at least – of Chubby Wombat and Hardwood Moonalice. CW and Hardwood may be done, but they didn’t go quietly. Every knob was turned up to 11.
According to Moonalice legend, one branch of the family tree controlled the land around a harbor in what is now the village of Haines. Back in Alaska’s early years as an “altered state,” they built Castle Moonalice, a fortress so poorly located that it could neither see the harbor from its ramparts nor reach enemy ships with its guns. Castle Moonalice was home to Moon---hole Moonalice I and his heirs. Moon---hole I married his sister, beginning a family custom that persisted through twenty-three generations. The last of the line, Moon---hole XXIII, was such a complete imbecile that he set siege to his own castle, ultimately starving his family and destroying the place. All that remained was the foundation, which was never seen again. When the modern Moonalice arrived in Haines, the plan was to visit the tomb of Moon---hole XIII, known to his subjects as Dimwit. The tomb was cool, but paled in comparison to the gig we played in the Tribal House. All of Haines was there and the party went on until dawn, at which time we stumbled into the parade ground of Haines’ historic Fort Seward. There we saw the remains of an army barracks building that burned down a few years ago. Vaguely reminiscent of something we learned in our study of Moonalice legend, the old foundation begged for follow-up research. Two calls to the Moonalice Historical Society confirmed what we had already begun to suspect. The barracks had been built atop the remains of Castle Moonalice! Hard to believe, but there you have it.
According to Moonalice legend, tribe members answered the siren call of Klondike gold at the end of the 19th century. They headed to the top of the Inside Passage, to the frontier town of Skagway. The tribe members took one look at the trail to gold country and had second thoughts. The trail is about six inches wide and goes straight up for nearly a gazillion miles. Suddenly the traditional Moonalice trades -- music and hemp -- seemed more attractive than ever. They certainly had value in the port from which miners began the backbreaking journey to gold country. The modern Moonalice band arrived in Skagway on a beautiful day and immediately headed to the Red Onion. A Skagway fixture from the very beginning, the Onion has a storied history of drunkenness and debauchery. It seemed like the ideal location for a gig. The place is tiny, so the band worked with a tiny backline and no recording equipment. We lost track of the set list, too, but a reasonable facsimile can be found below . . . .
According to Moonalice legend, the tribal bands of ancient times played special events in the buff. Legend goes on to say that the audience was naked also. Given the modern Moonalice’s recent experience at Camp NCN in Wisconsin, we were less unprepared than we might have been for the sartorial standard – or lack thereof – at KHNS, the radio station in Haines, Alaska. We know it’s hard to believe that all the employees of a major radio station would work in the raw. Harder still to imagine how they persuaded us to play in the raw. Do you have any idea how weird it feels to have an acoustic guitar on bare skin? Ewwww!
According to Moonalice legend, there is no such thing as a turd flower. Not now. Not ever. Imagine our surprise when we learned that a turd flower from Texas has been living in Washington, DC for the past seven years. We’re in Juneau for only two days and the Moonalice legend has developed as many holes as a large slab of Emmenthaler.
According to Moonalice legend, leviathans of the sea spent their summers frolicking in Alaska’s Inside Passage and their winters in the warm waters off Mexico and Hawaii. We had heard tell that these giant creatures could still be found near Juneau and sent a fact-finding team to confirm the legend. Expecting to find giant, ocean going mammals, what they found instead was cruise ships. Juneau was crawling with them, without a whale in sight. Could the legend be mistaken? Impossible. As one would expect, the Moonalice Historical Society has empanelled a committee to look into the so-called facts of the matter. Stay tuned.
According to Moonalice legend, all hills are alive with sound of rock ‘n’ roll. Alaska’s Mount Alyeska is no exception, although skeptics suggest that the tones we are hearing are actually tinnitus. No matter. The gig at Maxine’s was a blast. The place was jammed and our ears are still ringing with jubilant choruses of Goin’ Down the Road sung enthusiastically in 200-part harmony. The band called numerous audibles in the set list, introducing an element of danger into an event that already had all the beer it needed. Fortunately no fans or animals were harmed in the making of this gig. Anton and Austen Eriksson sat in and played brilliantly on percussion.
On a separate note, our drummer Dawn Man Moonalice, who doesn’t believe in sleep, went out for an early morning stroll and encountered a mama moose with two pups. For reasons he cannot adequately explain, Dawn Man didn’t bring the meeses home with him. He now claims that Moonalice legend does not allow bands to have pets. Temporarily stunned by the outrage of Moonalice legend being invoked by someone who has never played bass, we recovered more slowly than we would like to admit. You can be sure we’re looking into it. No matter what, Dawn Man should watch his back. Stay tuned.
According to Moonalice legend, the tribe had a long tradition of identifying and caring for unusual species found in nature. In the days before statehood, Alaska was an altered state that was particularly conducive the discovery of funny critters. For example, Moonalice tribe members discovered that the altered state bird of Alaska was the Common Rhino Puffin, an elusive and barely airworthy seabird with a gnarly horn in the middle of its forehead. The Rhino Puffin’s numbers were devastated after 9/11 because of a government crackdown on its violent relative, the Jihadi Rhino Puffin. With several ounces of plastic explosive strapped to its chest, the Jihadi Rhino Puffin terrorized sea life in the Bering Strait, blowing itself up whenever it encountered a school of fish. Despite visible differences, government agents waged puffinocide, making no effort to distinguish between the violent Jihadis and the gentle Common Rhino Puffin. The government-sanctioned massacre depleted the species to the point of extinction. While no Rhino Puffins have yet been sighted on this Moonalice tour, the band did stop off to visit our old friends at Glacier Radio, KEUL in Girdwood. For the third time in three years the band had great difficulty finding the studio. While KEUL claims that the problem is with Roadkill Moonalice’s navigation, the band knows the real story: the former radio pirates at KEUL have at least three identical studios in different parts of Girdwood.
According to Moonalice legend, a great migration took place every spring from tribal tail-freezing grounds in the polar north to bountiful fields of northern California. Somewhere along the line, Moonalice hippies discovered hemp, which immediately became the foundation of Moonalice culture. Before long, Moonalice villages across California were enhanced with high quality rope, fabrics, and a variety of entertainment products. When autumn came, tribal members could no longer remember why they had bothered to walk a couple thousand miles just so they could freeze all winter. The rest, as they say, is history.
The search for truth that characterizes the modern Moonalice tribe led the band to make a pilgrimage to Alaska, the Upper One. Armed with bags of winter clothing and enough food to last until dinner, the tribe instead found itself subjected to the twin hardships of seventy-degree weather and blazing sunshine. Further investigation between sets at Alice’s revealed olfactory evidence that hemp farming had made its way to the Kenai Peninsula. How ironic.
According to Moonalice Legend, tribal members in the far north lived in a picturesque setting with ocean waves beneath towering cliffs topped with expansive glaciers. The natural beauty of Alaska has long been a topic of speculation at tribal conferences, as rainfall and fog have prevented Moonalice visitors from seeing the ocean, mountains, and glaciers – to say nothing of the sky – in recent memory. The modern Moonalice tribe showed up in Homer on a stunning Thursday afternoon. Desperate to verify that it was actually Alaska and not a sound stage at the Walt Disney motion picture studios, we were relieved by the presence of halibut hanging from every nail on the spit confirmed that Moonalice was indeed in Homer. The presence of a huge and boisterous crowd confirmed that we were at Alice’s Champagne Palace. The pervasive presence of good times made it all just right.
You want highlights? We got ‘em! According to Moonalice legend, the last one to sing a song in concert has to play drums. That uncertainty has now been eliminated, as Barry finally stepped up to the mic. His version of Dink’s Blues brought the house down!!!
Other acts: JGB, Donna Jean & The Tricksters, Boris Garcia
According to Moonalice legend, tribe members traditionally engaged in two forms of commerce. The nomads (known as bands) played music. The farmers (known as hippies) grew hemp for ropes and other purposes. Over the centuries, these trades served the tribe very well. However, in modern times the music industry withered and the government stamped out hemp farming. As a result, the modern Moonalice tribe pales by comparison to more prosperous groups of native Americans, such as those in Cleveland, Ohio, whose focus on baseball supports that tribe well. Moonalice’s visit to Wisconsin reinforced the band’s appreciation of the wiser choices made by other tribes native to the region. Consider, for example, the Ho Chunk Nation, whose casino provided the band with an afternoon of entertainment before this gig. Consider also Wisconsin’s own Winnebago tribe, whose high quality RVs continue to be highly prized. At least Moonalice still has its health. The weather on this day was nasty, but the rain stopped just before the band started and stayed away for the entire set. The highlights included Hardwood’s monumental solo on Tell Me It’s Okay, Jesus H’s on Kick It Open, and a killer jam – led by Jesus H. and Sir Sinjin Moonalice - in the transition from Blink of an Eye to Nick of Time.
Other acts: JGB, Donna Jean & The Tricksters, Boris Garcia
According to Moonalice legend, the ancient tribe consisted of two large groups, the farmers (known as hippies) and the nomads (known as bands). Less well known were many smaller groups scattered across the continent. The upper Midwest was home to a group whose existence has been hotly debated by Moonalice scholars everywhere. They were nudists (known as Badgers) and much controversy surrounds them. Drawn by reports of the mild winters and gentle summers of Wisconsin, the Badgers set up clothing optional communities across the state. Imagine their surprise when they saw what Wisconsin winters and summers were really like. It's no surprise that the Badgers proved to be among the hardiest of the Moonalice groups. The modern Moonalice arrived in Wisconsin for the annual Grateful Garcia Gathering, a two-day festival that included such good friends at Melvin Seals & JGB, Donna Jean and the Tricksters, and Boris Garcia. The festival was at a resort called Camp NCN that is apparently owned by a local tribe of native Americans. We started unpacking gear under a big sign that said, "For Adults Only." Another sign referred to Camp NCN as an "adult camp." It was then that the band realized that Camp NCN stood for No Clothing Necessary and that it had once been home to our Moonalice forebears. To the dismay of the band, the Grateful Garcia Gathering had rented Camp NCN and suspended local custom in favor of a more traditional tie dye and jeans motif. Once the band recovered from its disappointment, the festival was a blast. Thanks to a two-hour set, the band debuted a couple songs and stretched out several others.
According to Moonalice legend, the tribe in ancient days wandered the continent in search of spiritual fulfillment. At some point long ago, the tribe found itself in the city of giants, where the gates were golden, the hills steep, and the air filled with aromatic breezes from Humboldt and Mendocino counties. It was there, in the city of St. Francis, that the Moonalice tribe discovered the power of free music. The tribe was told that if it could haul its instruments up the hill known as Nob there would be a high paying gig at some schmantzy hotel. Years of idleness had taken their toll, however, and the tribe took only one look at hill before deciding that money was not a good reason to schlep their gear any further. This realization hit the tribe at the corner of Post and Powell streets, in a public space that was home to the Teamsters and a predecessor to the AFL-CIO. Standing on edge of this Union Square, the tribe found both spiritual fulfillment and the union movement. Soon the low tones of traditional Moonalice music could be heard across the square and there was much joy in city by the bay. The present day tribe of Moonalice gathered on this last day of July of 2007, hoping to recreate the spiritual fulfillment of those days gone by. Under a blazing sun, just after midday, the band did its thing for a squareful of fans. Fulfillment was everywhere. Noting that the Teamsters and AFL-CIO were nowhere to be found in Union Square that day, Chubby Wombat Moonalice offered to acquire some Ex-Lax to get the labor movement started again. The rest, as they say, is history.
In Moonalice legend, the medicine man was a bass player who combined great musical skills with a prodigious ability to procure organic materials to take the edge off tribal reality. So powerful was Moonalice medicine that no one could afford it, which gave rise to the Moonalice Free Clinic, which provided drugs and care to those in need. It is said that the whole tribe soon needed care. In modern times, the free clinic movement got second life in San Francisco, where the Haight-Ashbury Free Clinic set a standard of care that is admired and widely imitated. The admiration of the city of San Francisco was reflected in a benefit at the Great American Music Hall, where the band shared the bill with Hot Tuna and (opener). GAMH offered the perfect setting for a benefit show on a warm Wednesday night. The air was fresh with the smells of summer. Moonalice tribe members attended in large numbers, many sporting stickers saying, "Hi! My name is _____ Moonalice!" The band was pleased to see F. Stop Moonalice, Roadkill Moonalice, P. Bitch Moonalice, Technicolor Moonalice, Captain Moonalice, Chrispy Moonalice, 8-String Moonalice and many other chiefs. (Thank goodness for name tags!)
According to Moonalice legend, all members of the tribe shall be chiefs, whether or not they play bass. While it is a fact that bass playing is the heart of Moonalice spirituality, it brings with it a heavy amp and a sore back, not a special place in the tribal hierarchy. Evidence of these great truths was on display in Union Square this day, as the band played a lunch time gig in the heart of San Francisco. A large tribe formed in the Square shortly after noon. In keeping the with tribal tradition, everyone was in charge. The band played a spirited set — complete with four bass players — with lots of dancing and carrying on. Other than a touch of sunburn on Chubby Wombat’s scalp, no animals (or tribe members) were harmed in the making of this gig.
(Barry Melton, Greg Anton, Martin Fierro, Banana, Tom Finch, and more.)
According to Moonalice legend, membership in the tribe has been a matter of self-selection, rather than birth. While this disqualifies the tribe for casino ownership, it minimizes squabbling at holidays. In the new Moonalice era, the tribe welcomes all fans of low tones. All we ask is that aspiring Moonalice tribe members choose an appropriately humorous moniker.
Wavy Gravy’s Summer of Love Revival brought more than 500 new members into the tribe on a chilly day in Marin County. With four players on bass, the band delivered a tasty baker’s dozen of songs, including Blink of an Eye, Moonalice’s first studio release.
The afternoon also saw the revival of an ancient Moonalice ritual: mooning the band. True to the ancient custom, the mooner in question did a slow strip tease (revealing a most extraordinary matched set of red and white striped undies), before going for the full monty. The mooner was also wearing a bright red clown nose . . . it was none other than Wavy himself!!!
According to Moonalice legend, music is a life force, animating all things with melody, harmony and rhythm. It is said that Moonalice music can raise the spirits of the downtrodden and restore the sick to good health. The band carried on the tradition at a benefit for Accelerate Brain Cancer Cure. The event raised more than $1.7 million for brain cancer research.
Other acts: Cold Blood, Nick Gravenites, The Mermen
According to Moonalice legend, early generations of the tribe included both nomads (known as bands) and farmers (known as hippies). The bands and hippies gathered from time to time for pow-wows (known as gigs), where the low tones of traditional Moonalice music could be heard for miles around. One of the core Moonalice gig rituals of that era was the peace smoke, initiated by the hippies, which occurred at precisely 4:20 in the afternoon. While the details of the peace smoke have been lost to history, elements of the ritual survive to this day. The first gig of the new tribe of Moonalice occurred in United Nations plaza in San Francisco on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. Billed as Cannabis Awareness Day, the event was a breath taking example of truth in advertising. Among the many surprises that afternoon was the appearance of The Seventh. With Yggdrassil in the line-up, the rest of the Moonalice tribe settled into higher-toned instruments for an afternoon of new material and great times.