77 Sunset Strip is an American television private detective series created by Roy Huggins and starring Efrem Zimbalist, Jr., Roger Smith, and Edd Byrnes. (1958 to 1964.)
The Radio generation, the TV generation and now the computer generation. My parents, me, and my kids about sums it up. However, we got our entertainment and storytelling, last night while watching 77 Sunset Strip I was amazed to know that husband never saw the show. He wasn’t born until 1966. The show first aired the time I was born. One of those shows like Route 66 that is fun to watch with some depth. It echos generation jones and generation x
Aspiring PI Kookie is who I remember the most due to a popular song that hit the charts.
“To improve the external situation in the world, we must begin by accepting that world as a mother accepts her child; to improve our intimacies, we much extend the same benevolence to ourselves. The acceptance we must cultivate is the same: the emphasis remains on the inner world. As Jung pointed out, “The upheaval in our world and the upheaval in consciousness is one and the same.” We must come home to ourselves with a mothering acceptance, and so give birth to ourselves with a mothering acceptance, and so give birth to true emotion, the basis of all true intimacy. ” Pg 129 Astrology Beyond Ego – Tim Lyons
A while back I had a scary dream. I was with a group of people. We were all running from evil monster zombies. The feeling was dread. We found a train and traveled to the country. It was horrid. The thought of death approaching was a sickness in us all. We found a cabin in the countryside. I had my white cat Mr. Po Po with me. He ran from the cabin out into the darkness of the night. The zombies were there. The monsters were close. I had to run after my cat. Terrified I ran out into the these monsters of chaos and fear beyond enduring. As I found my cat. I Hugged him. I was confronted by the evil that pursued us. Everything stopped. I looked into death and he said this to me,
“I can not hurt you with that cat.”
“You all run in fear and hate”
“Yet there in your hands is your love”
“I can not touch you or harm you with love.”
I was overwhelmed with dread, then fear, and then I felt only my cat’s love. I walked slowly back into the cabin and told the others what happened to Mr. Po Po and me. We all sat in a circle and held hands. We now knew what to do. We sang a new song.
Pluto and the underworld. Pluto and death. Pluto and nuclear weapons. Pluto and power of the underground. Pluto and transmutation. Pluto loves Persephone.
CHORUS Below translated… I hope this is correct!
“Come to the realms of bliss,
great hero, tender husband,
rare example in any age!
Amor returns Eurydice to you;
already she revives and recovers
all the flower of her beauty.”
“I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.”
~ Jack Kerouac
I grew up during the 60s, 70s and 80s. I was 30 years old when I was bumped blindly into a world of a new education. Each generation I lived though, I loved. As a song, friend or lover, which in fact… all three generations supplied me with abundantly.
I fell into the late 70s punk scene blindly and without any ambition but the rebellious call of youth and ideology built on an underground scene. Yet what I witnessed in the 60s was wildness of a different rebellion. I miss the hitchhiker’s ways. People on the streets at every corner. I felt safe and awake.
Then as I have written before, the end of the 70s brought the multiple attacks of serial killers and we all pulled into ourselves. Now I drive by the many blocks where I grew up and see all the streets are empty. Cars and more cars blindly drive right through my memories of those street kids. They were just hanging and talking. They improvised life without any hand-held device. Only the feel of a hand.
I feel the need to move to a new place where there are no memories. I did it at the end of the 80s. I left to a place of no memories for a short time.
As a culture we have become so pulled into ourselves. I am guilty of this as well. I am not blind to what is going on yet, I am getting to old to do anything about it.
“The Greek poet Orpheus carried Willow branches as a symbol of the inspiration this sound gave.”
I pause outside as bee and lady bug fly around.
Sweet is the nectar from
lemon tree and lavender.
Letting go of worries and
desires that do not serve me now.
An old friend, a song, comes to mind
as my "leaves in the wind."
Perfect are old recorded songs
and the insect, flower and tree!
Somehow as I pause in breathing,
I am lost in this perfection.
The recurring of pause of being,
the repetition of listening to old songs
the heartfelt listening and watching nature,
Is my catalyst for artistic expression.
Never to let us down !!
Posted in "In the beginning there was a void except for the written word." The Avengers (Band)
Tagged Alternative music, Art, beauty, Daily Prompt, Goddess and Home, nature, poetry, postaday, punk rock music, spirituality, Women
“My Punkalullaby is incredibly brave journal about the early days of Flipside, High School, discovering Nirvana, and the LA punk scene. Many of the stories about the LA scene have been told repeated ad nauseam, but Hudley has a unique perspective on what happened and what it was like.”
~ Steve Hart, New Wave Chicken Magazine
Out today! Take off where the last one left off. The journey continues… this is the drugs and foolish love issue.
I AM BE !!
Set or Anubis on T-Shirt…. both are cool..
Baubo (Greek: Βαυβώ) is an old woman in Greek mythology who jested with Demeter, when Demeter was mourning the loss of her daughter, Persephone. She is also known as Iambe.