Maui, Hawaii

Two scoop Groundation @ Kauai and Maui, one big scoop @ The Pipeline, O’ahu; Twain tight-lipped on Maui getaway; I’m Lewis, he’s Clark & she’s Sacagawea; Aloha is not a slogan.

Twin Falls fruit stand on the Hana Highway

Last week’s shows took us back to the old days of touring with Groundation. On our first trip to the islands we stayed at the infamous Banana Bungalow in Wailuku, eight to a room. This time we stayed at the Pioneer Inn in Lahaina, by all accounts a very historical spot. Maui has an extraordinary reputation for quirkiness. Charles Lindberg is buried here, ’round the backside of the big volcano. In the spring humpback whales are as common as pigeons. My boy Mark Twain spent six weeks here when he was a travel writer back in the 1800s. When he got back to his desk the only thing he wrote about it was this:

“It has been six weeks since I touched a pen. In explanation and excuse I offer the fact that I spent that time…on the island of Maui. I only got back yesterday. I never spent so pleasant a month before, or bade any place good-bye so regretfully. I doubt if there is a mean person there, from the homeliest man on the island  down to the oldest. I went to Maui to stay a week and remained five. I had a jolly time. I would not have fooled away any of it writing letters under any consideration whatever. It will be five or six weeks before I write again. I sail for the island of Hawaii tomorrow, and my Maui notes will not be written up until I come back.”

Predictably, he never wrote them up; whatever happened in Maui stayed in Maui. Your faithful pal Diesel had a jolly time, too, but maybe not as jolly as Mr. Clemens.

MarkTwain

Lani at Venus

With Trombone-man Kelsey riding shotgun, we wound down the well-trodden Hana Road, reaching the Seventh of the Sacred Pools right at dusk. We were accompanied by the lovely Lani and her six-month old daughter Carmenita. A Maui native, Lani looked like Sacagawea out there, diving into pools and hopping over rocks while Kelsey and I slapped on bug-repellent and fumbled along in pursuit. I feel sorry for folks that come here and don’t have local friends to show them around.

More tropical beauties

We’ve worked for it. Groundation has been coming to Hawaii for years, earning friendships. The way I see it, if you want to be welcome in a place like this you need to have two things: First, you need to show respect. This is important in any culture, but especially in Hawaii. Second, you need to have something to trade, something to offer. At the very least, that means money. Most tourists come here with little more than that, so they only see the surface of things. If you’ve got a joyful heart or a good reggae band, that might get you in the door, and once you really feel welcome here, you know what the fuss is about. And it doesn’t hurt to like macaroni salad.

On O’ahu, my old friend Mikey took me around for chicken katsu and mochi. Then we blundered right into a mass-hula in front of the Royal Palace. After botching that photo-op we spent an hour in the museum absorbing artistic interpretations of Hawaiian culture (everything from surfing to quilts) and social issues like the bombing of the island of Kaho’olawe. Soaking it up.

The Pipeline show was great, very peaceful, with up-and-comers Product opening up, and veterans Ooklah the Moc in support. Some faces were missed, but there were some new ones backstage as well, and memories of shows gone by floated at the edges of our thoughts.

I felt more welcome in Hawaii than ever before. Overworked Hawaiian bouncers pulled aside the velvet rope for me even without my backstage pass, and a hard working waitress kept her cafe open an extra hour for us. I blinked twice when I saw she’d given me the kama’aina discount on my fish sandwich. She smiled as I stared at the check in disbelief. “You guys killed it at the Hard Rock last night.” I’m here to tell you: Aloha is no joke.

Groundation's first time on O'ahu

Reno, Nevada

Orgone and the orgone; Ray of Sunshine hits West Coast; atheism rears its somewhat annoying head; one-ninth the purpose of Groundation (my 11%).

Outside the Knitting Factory, Reno.

Orgone, the band.

This tour really took off. I’d love to wax rhapsodic, but this is the lead so I’ll spare you. Groundation is about to start the second leg of the Fuzion Tour at the Belly Up in Solana Beach with special guests and co-headliner Orgone. Hailing from the wide streets and narrow arroyos of Los Angeles, our funky southern cousins make a great contrast with Groundation, the lighters to go with our Molotov cocktail and vice versa. You will dance your ass off if you come to this show.

The word orgone was created by psychoanalist Wilhelm Reich, and it refers to a kind of invisible life energy. I learned something about him when I was dating a girl who thought he was cool. He was a student of Sigmund Freud, and he had some interesting ideas about sexual freedom and the psychological damage caused by war and authoritarianism. He ran into trouble with both the Nazis and the American Feds, so I know he couldn’t be all bad. Some of his science was pretty sketchy though, including his theories of spontaneous healing through the accumulation of cosmic energy: orgone. Orgone (the band)’s PR suggests that their music helps charge these unseen fields of sex power. When you the see their show, you’ll see what they mean. It seems that these days everyone has a different way of explaining things.

Superfan Rachael hails from Boone, in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. She’s a vegan chef and photographer. A couple of weeks back a patron was admiring Rachael’s work in a cafe. The woman asked Rachael (who sometimes goes by the name Ray of Sunshine) how she would spend the money if she sold her prints.

“I guess I’d go see Groundation in California. And Steel Pulse, too”

A little later, the woman cut a check, which bought a plane ticket, and Rachael met us backstage at the Mystic Theater in Sonoma County, California. She attributed her good fortune to positive thinking, which I agree with.

This picture shows several things I don't like about religions. Can you guess what they are?

I don’t usually like to wear my beliefs on my sleeve, so I apologize for the dogma I’m about to commit. I’m not Rasta, which you could probably guess by looking at me, (being in a reggae band does obscure the issue). In fact, I’m an atheist, which means that I believe there is no god. Also I have eyebrows that can be raised independently of one another, which annoys everyone I know, with just one exception.

The exception is my wife. Gillian, who is an atheist like me. A year ago when she found herself in a dark place, she turned to church, hoping that the music would ease her despair. She began going weekly to Glide Methodist Church in San Francisco and joined the chorus. My wife is still an atheist, but trust me, Sunday mornings at Glide are considerably funner than the SF Atheists’ meetings. The Atheists don’t even have a band. Yet.

If you’re reading this, you probably recognize the power of music to ease the burdens of the heart, unleash your body and your imagination, or at the very least to have fun. You also realize that great music is made all around the world, by all kinds of people, many of them religious. I hope people don’t let their spiritual beliefs lead them to exclude people who don’t have spiritual beliefs. Why? Because even though I’m an atheist, I love the feelings I get from Glide and from Groundation.

Celebration is fundamental, a universal act of sharing, and though I’ve never been in the crowd for a Groundation show, still I hope people leave our shows feeling a little closer to one another. I’m only one ninth of Groundation (that’s 11%), but I think the real purpose of this band is to use music and poetry to inspire people to do good things and increase the amount of love in the world. It’s not so different from a good church service.