Bear
March 14, 2011

Few men have range. Few men inspire. Few men think for themselves. Few men stand out despite an allergic avoidance of the spotlight. Few men simply don’t give a shit what you think about any of this.

So it’s unfortunate when, in a world overflowing with uninspiring, unthinking, preprogrammed dolts, the conscious population loses a man possessing the above listed qualities. Such a man was lost yesterday in a car crash in Queensland, Australia. His name was Augustus Owsley Stanley III. Better known simply as Bear.

How’s this for range?

1. Professional ballet dancer

2. Audio engineering master / Grateful Dead soundman / Creator of the Wall of Sound

3. LSD master responsible for turning on the masses in the 1960s and being paid tribute to in Frank Zappa’s “Who Needs the Peace Corps,” Steely Dan’s “Kid Charlemagne,” Grateful Dead’s “Alice D. Millionaire,” Jefferson Airplane’s “Bear Melt,” and Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze.”

4. Casual sculpture artist

5. Health and nutrition guru inspiring an underground diet revolution that has changed and saved lives, and has been growing in influence since he went “public” with his thoughts on diet in 2006

Don’t get me wrong, you’re working wonders for mankind as a part-time male nurse and full-time iPhone addict, I’m just saying - if Hendrix was alive, you probably wouldn’t inspire sound that will live forever.

Bear, however, was a unique, uncompromising sonofabitch. At least that’s what the evidence indicates. He avoided attention, and little has been written on him despite his massive contributions in such diverse areas. I can’t pretend to know the man, though I was fortunate enough to have some email correspondence with him over the last few years. Well into his 70’s, Bear was still kind enough (crazy enough?) to respond to anyone that emailed him. His responses, however, were not always kind. Nor were they intended to be. And that was the best part. He didn’t care. He had nothing to prove. He was a man that had said all he had to say, and simply lived the life he wanted to live day to day. In short, he gave no fucks.

Just within the last month, I had conversations with three individuals regarding Bear. In each case, I sounded off about how, outside of a very small circle, he would not have the legacy he deserves once he dies. I explained how I wished more people knew about this man and the fascinating life he’s led. Not because it would lead them to take psychedelics and try to find themselves, not because it would lead them to stop fondling vegetables and eat a damned steak, but simply for the sake of learning that there are real people out there that think for themselves and do more than eat Doritos and use “social network” as an action verb. I fantasized that, if I could ever get it funded, and had any idea what I was doing, I would produce a documentary on Bear covering all aspects of his life. It would be a predestined commercial failure, but I would feel I’d actually accomplished something simply by providing the world a piece of work that did some modicum of justice in expressing who Bear was.

Each time I wrapped up my would-be sales pitch about a Bear documentary, I laughed, and explained, “The only thing is, it would ultimately suck without him in it, and if there’s one human being that would have no desire to be in an Owsley Stanley documentary, something tells me it’s Owsley Stanley.” And that’s why, after an impulsive “oh no” upon hearing of his death, I quickly moved on to a chuckle. Bear was a realist. So with reality being that we all die, I don’t imagine anyone could care less about Owsley Stanley dying than Owsley Stanley. That’s why I love him. More inspiring to me than the dietary lifestyle he outlined which restored my health was his attitude and manner of expression. He actually experienced life. He was smart, he knew this, and he wasn’t afraid to make it obvious. He wasn’t out to hurt feelings, only to help others, and he refused to apologize for feelings that were hurt in those too feeble to help themselves. I don’t agree with everything Owsley Stanley ever said. He doesn’t care. And neither do I.

So instead of sacrificing a steak in honor of The Bear, an act for which he’d think I’m a stupid asshole for wasting a perfectly good meal - an opinion with which I’d concur - I’m going to eat it and be glad Owsley “Bear” Stanley once lived.

“I guess it never occurs to people who regard their own lives not to be very interesting, that there are those who live life in a totally different manner to theirs, and therefore experience a different sort of life.”