Category: Early Olympia (1970-1992)

“I Think We’re All Bozos on this Bus” was a Firesign Theatre album Fred, Lee, Gregory and I listened to back in those days, and this particular excerpt was one that Gregory could easily perform from memory, particularly if one of us started singing the song. Also the references to Artie Choke there and on another place in the album where Artichoke Mode is mentioned were the inspiration to the name of the Artichoke Mode (of the True Food Conspiracy) restaurant.   Kent Christman

Back From the Shadows Again
(sung to the tune of “Back in the Saddle Again”)
♫ Back from the Shadows again,
Out where an In-jun’s your friend,
Where the vegetables are green,
And you can pee into the stream,
Yes, we’re back from the Shadows again ♫

“Howdy, everybody – I’m the Whisperin’ Squash”
“And I’m the Lonesome Beet”
“And I’m Artie Choke, and we’re just a joke.”
“And don’t be afraid, little people, ’cause we’re just Holy-grams!”
“Great!”
“Yeah, but what about you, pardner? What you doin’ today?”
“Can’t be much, Lonesome, nobody’s workin'”
“Nobody ‘cept us, and I’m gettin’ tired of standin’ here with these geeks a-gawkin’ at me!”
“Now you keep it sweet, Beet!”
“Listen here, leaf-head, I’m gonna pluck you…”
“Now, now, boys! Fightin’s out of style. Fun’s where the Faire’s at – in the Future, that is!”
“You can bet your roots, toots, it’s tons of fun!
“And technical stimulation!”
“That’s what I need!”
“And there’s lots more of me where I come from!”
“In Government inflicted simulation!”
“The future can’t wait – no place to hide!”
“So climb on aboard…”
“We’re goin’ inside!”
“We’re goin’…”

♫ Back to the Shadows again
Out where an Indian’s your friend
(Goin’ down, goin’ down)
Where the vegetables are green,
And you can pee right into the stream
(And that’s important)
We’re back from the Shadows again ♫

Gregory, how do you measure the significance of a 44 year friendship? Impossible to quantify. Your giddy laugh and infectious smile have remained alive in me since my 19-yr-old self joined the Blue Heron Bakery so many decades ago. 

You have always been a wise one in my life: you mentored DIY sensibilities while making repairs and doing carpentry projects at that funky bakery building. I learned bread-baking and granola-making tips and tricks–and you taught me double-entry bookkeeping, which comes in handy to those of us who hop and jump through careers and collective enterprises. That crazy baby blue geodesic dome you built on the back of the bakery delivery pickup always made me grin as I traveled around town delivering bread and granola. I can’t find any photos, but it remains vivid in my mind.

Most meaningful was your knack for being in the present moment—always curious and engaged. You modelled warmth as a young father and I remember talking about the joys of kids in our lives… my encounters in collective households. You encouraged me to travel to the Whole Grain Collective Baker’s conference in Buffalo one year, and as Blue Heron got more involved in the collective bakeries cookbook project, the next conference had visiting bakers camping on your land! 

I have loved reconnecting with you when I returned to Olympia recently–in yoga classes, socializing, at the co-op. So much gratitude to you, Gregory. Your laughter and smile remain a true gift that I’ll continue to pass on to those I meet.

Melissa Roberts

From 1973 to 1977 we had a student household on Mix Road called Frog Farm. We had a well worn path through our back field and woods,  and across the Evergreen Parkway and into the field behind Calliope. Greg lived at Calliope for much of that time. I’m not sure how I ended up with this picture. And I don’t remember the names of some of the people in it. But Gregory is in the middle front with Chrissie McFadden on his left. Also, Don Harper and George in the front row.

 

Janet Neuhauser and I remember Gregory as generous, curious, and always the peacemaker. There were seven of us in the Artichoke Mode collective in Olympia, Washington from 1973-1975.  John, Greg, Fred, Hobie and Rolf called Jan and I “the girls.” We all cooked, cleaned, shopped, and waited on tables—or most of us did anyway. Gregory kept the books. He periodically pulled the electric buzzer out of his overalls and asked me to cut his hair– he said it cleared his head. The Artichoke became a popular lunch spot. Governor Dan Evan’s wife became a regular, even as Gregory smiled and asked her to please extinguish her cigarette.  One clear night after closing, Gregory invited Jan and I to drive into the Black Hills to see what he called Greg’s Glob—some star formation that he wanted to check out. We rode in the back of the Artichoke truck along with others from Calliope farm, bumping against Gregory’s giant wooden telescope the whole way. In the headlights we saw sorrel growing in the ditch and stopped to pick; at the top we laid on blankets looking at the starry night, dreaming of our next adventures. I wrote my first novel while at Evergreen…about what else? The Artichoke. We should have guessed that Gregory would go on to get a Ph.D. in physics. He must have been a fabulous professor—passionate, caring, inspiring, patient and fair. Jan met Gregory and Betsie a few times in Seattle and I’m sorry our paths never crossed. I live in New York and hoped to meet up with Gregory and Betsie in Boston when they last visited Lee, Kent and Fred. Luckily, from Betsie’s photos, I see that Gregory has a lovely family and he’ll go on living in the souls of all of us who are left behind.

Mo

Ten years ago Gregory wanted kinetic art gifts for his birthday. So I put this together from scraps from a project I had going.  Love you bro!

Bill Dean