Kevin is Dead

 Kevin is Dead





    It may be hard to imagine the cane wielding old grandpa Kevin Smith (aka Kent aka Kent Schmidt) as  a hippy space cowboy but the big fella led the way for our set of psychic explorers. As stated before Greg and I started our acid careers one night on Seminole in 1971 but I am unsure about Smitty. However, he took a liking to hallucinating and dropped often in his perigrinations around West Los Angeles, Ventura beaches and the Conejo. I believe I shared the spaced places with him maybe a half dozen times but today's tale was one told by the man to his young cuz who shared it with me. At the time which I am going to guess was 1974 we were all enamored of a prog-rock group "Yes" who had a psychedelic album called "Yessongs" and two songs that were played often in "Long Distance Runaround" and a long one called "Heart of the Sunrise." We had become believers in the band from an earlier LP called "Fragile" that was one of the first to really use synthesizers and pot smokers got lost in "Runaround." Yes had two damn good guitarists (Steve Howe, Chris Squire) and a lead singer with a strong rock tenor(Jon Anderson) but their platform was the moog stuff from Rick Wakeman. Their themes were almost science fiction so you would be spaced while you were spaced. Unbeknownst to Greg and I, Smith got himself a ticket for their Forum show and a tab of some strong acid to truly rock on...man. He jumped in the shoutmobile and drove to the gigantic open Fabulous Forum parking lot properly dosed. Something weird happened somewhere between "Siberian Khatru" and  the "Revealing Science of God." As is the case in these mind journeys his brain cells took a wrong turn. Once you head down that bummer boulevard it seems impossible to get back home as I found out a couple of times. Poor old Smitty began to believe the band was playing a long song called "Kevin is Dead" which was not recieved well for a guy solo with no one to talk him down. The crowd was joining in and they all seemed to be staring in his direction! He tried to escape but found cops at every door to the outside. As bad luck would have it he found one exit left unguarded and bolted out the security door and into the "fresh air of Inglewood. As he found freedom he also found another distressed hippy, in a wheelchair, covered with his own vomit! The last part of the tale is my favorite which was miraculous and tragic. Somehow, the befuddled Kent found his automobile and had his keys in his hand enabling an escape from the death song and thousands of people chanting for his demise. Yet, the dose was a doozy and he just could not connect the keys to the car and had to stand in the parking lot until the tangle of  confusion in his brain cleared somewhat.



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