LUVstock: The History. The Mission.

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LUVstock!

Part One: The LUVhistory

Part Two: The Mission

 

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Part One: The LUVhistory

History of LUV

    LUVstock has been around for a while.  It started out as a musician’s birthday party (we’ll call him “P”) in an empty residential neighborhood way back in 2000. As the years roared on, the party got bigger and the impromptu, improvisational jams turned into actual shows with bands asking or being asked if they wanted to play at the party.
    Two bands turned to five, then five bands to nine.  The initial birthday party had thirty or so guests that turned into a gathering with fifty or sixty guests that eventually became a mini fest with over 100 guests attending… and it kept growing!

P’s Birthday Party turned into P-Stock (as a bit of a joke when the party was written about in a local magazine) and once it became a thing (in 2006) it became a two day mini-fest and was renamed LUVstock. 

Vendors replaced potluck. A LUVcrew and voLUVteers were needed to take care of logistics and bits. 

LUVstock subsequently had to move out of the neighborhood into a bigger venue (2009) and grew from 10 bands to about fifty bands (with a few DJs) on three stages over two days.

LUVstock was held in an old unused amusement park. It was special. Old rides from yesteryear with peeling paint, old machinery, overgrown shrubbery, screams of delight from children still echoing in the wind – all added to the charm of the venue.

At the LUVmeetings it was often brought up if there should be a cover charge.  P always said no.  He paid out of pocket. Donations were then suggested and P thought that might be a good idea as costs – for what was becoming a big festival – were increasing. Rent for the venue, three stages, sound & sound crew, vending tents, T-shirts, crew, staff, bar stock…. and everything else.

Guest Attendance for LUVstock doubled at this new venue and by the time 2012 rolled around LUVstock saw roughly a couple thousand people over two days.  It had grown into a huge production and was done with no budget and supported only through donations.

LUVstock became a social experiment.  Could The People all pull together and pay for a big festival?  It came close, but was always short.

In 2013 it was projected to grow even more. A couple days prior however, it was reported that a Huge Typhoon was going to hit the Island.  Taichung, where LUVstock was held, almost never got hit hard, so LUV wasn’t called off.

The winds and rain started the Friday night before and people began arriving.

Most of the vendors pulled out, stage/sound crew had to pull out, a few out-of-town bands pulled out. Was the LUV called off? Perhaps it should have been, but they decided to go for it! The Festival was moved inside The Refuge (which could hold about 300 people) and while the Music was ROCKING inside, the Typhoon was ROCKING outside!  LUVstockers braved The Winds and Rain from Mother Nature who happened to not be in a nurturing mood that weekend.

LUV2013 was a magical one… it also happened to be the last one at that old amusement park as the land was sold a couple of months later.

The organizers then looked for a new location. Everyone searched high and low, far and wide. The organizers even thought to bring LUV to another city. Venues were either too expensive, too far away, too many neighbors (thus sound complaints) or not compatible with the LUV vibe.

Summer 2014 saw no suitable venue.  So LUVstock – after five years of being held on a vast piece of land – was brought back to its original location in the now not-so-empty residential neighborhood.  It was called MiniLUV and had a few bands, a vendor, and some very awesome attendees.  Another MiniLUV was held in 2015.  The LUV was kept alive. The organizers refusing to let that flame blow out.

Then in March of 2016, P was asked to help organize another unrelated event – a going away party for a friend. The venue they found happened to be a farm in the jungle of a mountain. A venue that P had been to a few times before – many years ago – for a few trance parties.

The party happened. It was awesome. P and the landlords (a couple of farmers) drank tea together and bonded. They asked if P wanted to do another event there one day (they didn’t want any trance parties, but they loved the Live Music!). The LUVseed began to grow.

The LUVstock Music Festival now has a new venue, a new time of year (changing from a summer event to an autumn one) and reasonably priced tickets.

November, 2016 had hundreds of people come from all over the island to get a little bit of LUV.

To all the LUVstockers past and present who have waited patiently for us to put on our magical Festival again….  THANK YOU!

….LUVstock is back!

(If you want to be involved with LUVstock please drop us an Email: LUVstock @ live . com (no spaces)  and share your ideas!  If you are a Band, DJ, Vendor, Sponsor, want to voLUVteer or have any questions… drop us a line!)

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Part Two: The Mission

LUVstock means so many things to so many people over the last decade.  In this day and age, the world needs a little bit more love… if people are shown love they will spread love. It’s contagious.  For years LUVstock was a donations only event.  In 2016, the organizers decided to sell tickets to pay for everything needed.  The LUVorganizers kept the tickets as cheap as possible for a trial One Day Event.  The Event went off without a hitch, got all the bills paid and invoked good feelings all around.

The LUVstock mission will to be to continue that Groovy LUV Vibe. Eventually getting more international bands to come play (we had Van Coke Kartel from South Afrika in 2011!

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The Organizers and Patrons of LUVstock hope to perpetuate Peace, Love, Tolerance, and Understanding through Art, Music and Camaraderie.

Join us!

SCROLL DOWN FOR VITAL INFORMATION… BUT WHILE YOU’RE SCROLLING, CHECK OUT SOME OF THESE LUVpix!

 

 

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VITAL INFORMATION!

2017 fb EVENT PAGE:  https://www.facebook.com/events/1948647502039332/

FB LUVstock Page: https://www.facebook.com/LUVstockFamily/

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1995

You can follow the Militant Hippi/Boston Paul on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/BostonPaul
or

Twitter: https://twitter.com/MilitantHippi

 

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Hippy New Year – Thoughts PinBalling Inside My Skull

Hippy New Year – Thoughts Pin-Balling Inside My Skull

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As 2016 comes to a grinding halt and we set our eyes on 2017, there are many thoughts pin-balling inside my skull.

Thought I’d try to make sense of those thoughts here.
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I’m getting older.  I still feel like I’m in my 30s, act like I’m in my 20s but am starting to think like I’m in my 80s.  It’s that latter thought that reminds me I’m getting older.

What will I regret or be proud of when I’m in my 80s sitting in a rocking chair (or a tatami mat or bean bag chair) and pondering (lamenting) on all the things that filled my life?

Things I didn’t do but wanted to; things I’ve done and didn’t want to do; and of course the things I’ve pursued and accomplished.

How will I feel about the life I’ve lived from day to day?  From the Exciting to the Mundane, the Happiness to the Insane, the love filled days – to days of bitter sadness that seemed impossible to shake (fortunately those have been few and far between)?

That Day to Day life that has not only shaped who I am today but will – I presume –  have made me the person I will be in my 80s (and 90s! And if all goes well when I’m a Centurion… er… Centenarian!) sitting on a tatami mat (or beanbag chair!) sipping green tea, or a fine red wine or the juice of some fruit I’ve just blended.

When I’m in my 80s or 90s, I’m sure that I will appreciate how the Past me took care of the Future me.

And if you think about it, both the Past me and the Future me are living in the Now.

But we don’t walk our Journey Paths alone. So…

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On this last day of the year, I think about the friends and family who have passed into the great Unknown.

I think about all the musicians who died this past year. Musicians whose music helped raise me in areas of my life where my mother and father couldn’t.

I watch my son, getting older, trying new things, loving animals (as he takes care of two roosters, two hens, two turtles, a fish, a cat, a dog, and cockroach from Madagascar), pursuing art, practicing judo and taking on life armed with curiosity and gusto.
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I think fondly of my wife who has been there through it all. My ups and downs. Our ups and downs. The topsy-turvy curve balls life has thrown at us. I can’t believe we have been together almost two decades.

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I regularly meet with special friends a few times a week to make music, drink wine, laugh, talk about love and life, stare at a fire.  I don’t know where I would be – or who I would be – without them.

All these special people I’ve mentioned above are my Family.

I miss my friends and family back in the ‘old’ country – a place I left in my 20s to see the world.

I think about them often and always wonder – in an alternate universe – What If?

What if I never left my country of birth? What would I be doing now? What would they be doing now?

Pebbles. Lakes. Ripples.

With about half my life under my belt and – The Universe willing – another half to go, I seek to continue to try to make myself a better person, to help make the world a better place – anyway I can – by being nice to people, giving what I can, sharing my art and ideas, helping others with their art and helping them make their ideas a reality.

Pebbles. Lakes. Ripples.

As I think about the past year and look forward to this next one and as the pinball stops ricocheting in my brain, this clichéd mantra comes to mind – and for some reason it is really hitting home right now as I sit and write:

We’re all in this together.

In other words, we only have us, so let’s treat each other well.

May 2017 bring you Happiness, Peace, Love & Adventure!

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1995

You can Follow the Militant Hippi/Boston Paul on Facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/BostonPaul
or
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MilitantHippi

You might also enjoy this essay about FRIENDS:

https://bostonpaul.wordpress.com/2012/08/13/who-what-is-a-friend-really/

 

Published in: on December 31, 2016 at 2:55 PM  Comments (5)  
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Where The F@#$% are my Socks? A Riveting Story About Searching

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True Story…

(as true as a story based on reality can be)

Some friends of mine and I went to the art museum one night – at about midnight – to lay on the museum’s perfectly manicured grass and have a smoke or two, drink a few, and have a nice chat under the full moon.  It was kind of an after-party from a show we had all been at earlier in the evening.

One of the friends was a trumpet player named Wesley. Wes and I were with a couple of other friends named Vera (a singer) and Lenora (an artists and translator) and James (another artist and videographer).

We  looked at the moon, talked trash, laughed a lot, took our shoes off and let the grass caress our toes.  We drank, we smoked some more. Got deep. Laughed more. Did somersaults and cartwheels down a gentle slope and took goofy pictures of ourselves.

And then, all of us on our backs, stared at the midnight sky in silence.

Then we all hugged, said goodnight to each other and parted ways.

I’m not sure where everyone else went, but Wesley and I went back to his place as it was near the museum. He had a bit more booze at his house… so we spent much of the rest of the night drinking and making music…  then we burned our ideas onto a CD.

Then I passed out on his couch sharing it with all of his stuff.

Strewn about the couch was his laundry – including pants, boxer shorts, a towel, a couple of shirts and some brightly colored ties;  some musical instruments – mostly percussion type instruments like shakers, rattles and a tambourine; there were a couple of books (can’t remember the names of the books, but I think I liked one of the authors); and a couple of pillows.

I used some of his laundry as a blanket.

Then I woke up.

I opened my eyes and was blinded by the blaring sunlight – that wasn’t there when I passed out – flooding Wesley’s living room (which was also his dining room, study, studio and part of his kitchen).

I immediately got that oh shit, I’m late feeling and scrambled to pack up my stuff: a jacket, a helmet, my guy-purse, the keys to my motorcycle, my shoes and other tidbits.

Then I realized my socks were missing.

I looked around for them.  Under here. Over there. The socks were black, I told myself… or perhaps dark blue. I stood in the middle of the room and tried to recall where I had put them.

Then I woke Wes up to say goodbye.

Then I looked for my socks again. I looked under the couch, in his laundry still laying on the couch  – some of his laundry still with the imprint of my body on it. I looked in my shoes (again) and the bathroom (as I may have taken them off as the floor was a bit wet).

I found them not.

I spied a pair of socks on the floor next to the trumpet, but decided not to borrow them as I wasn’t sure if they were clean or not and didn’t want to do the smell test.

I gathered up my belongings and barefoot, carrying my shoes, walked down six flights of stairs (no elevator) to my scooter.

I got on my scooter, waved to the taichi people practicing in the park as I pulled out onto the street, went back to art museum and looked there for my socks.

I looked under the tree we had been sitting under, behind the bushes where I relieved myself of those whiskey apple cider things that I now wish I had not drunk. I looked up and down the hill we had done the cartwheels and somersaults on; the approximate area we had been on our backs looking at the stars…  still… no socks.

Barefoot, I walked back to my motorcycle, as the sun dared to glare brightly at me (I could not find my sunglasses either).

I put on my helmet and with bare feet, I headed slowly north on my motorcycle – back to my home in the big valley wondering if my socks were still resting at the art museum or hiding at Wesley’s place or sitting alone on a sidewalk somewhere  – waiting for my return…

…or perhaps – just maybe –  I did not wear socks out in the first place.

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You can Follow the Militant Hippi/Boston Paul on Facebook: 

https://www.facebook.com/BostonPaul
or
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MilitantHippi

You Might also like to read some other short stories by Boston Paul AKA The Militant Hippi:

  1. About a Great Grandfather and his Great Grandson:

    https://bostonpaul.wordpress.com/2016/01/26/my-great-grandfather-when-cultures-clash-ass-kicking-long-hair-and-hard-knocks/

    2.  This is my weapon and this is my Gun, based on real life events, a young man finds himself in Central America:

https://bostonpaul.wordpress.com/2016/01/12/this-is-my-weapon-and-this-is-my-gun/

3. Hate waiting in line?  This is for you:

https://bostonpaul.wordpress.com/2011/02/11/the-express-lane-10-items-or-less/

4. The Would Be Patriot:

https://bostonpaul.wordpress.com/2010/10/05/a-good-young-man-or-lockes-socks-the-would-be-patriot/

5. A bit of Horror and suspense… never blow this guy’s candle out!

https://bostonpaul.wordpress.com/2010/07/24/short-story-the-flame-that-softly-danced/

6. Getting Stoned at The Fair

https://bostonpaul.wordpress.com/2010/01/17/short-story-stoned-at-the-fair/

 

 

Published in: on January 31, 2016 at 12:49 AM  Comments (2)  
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