Crow and the AlleyCat

 

She was born in Santa Cruz, and he was born in Kansas City.  At very early ages, his family moved him to California and her family moved her to Kansas. Yet, early one morning around 3:00 a.m., they were both in San Francisco in an all night diner with several of their loud and rebellious artist friends. In each of their orange, crescent shaped booths, several works of art were being created from napkins, food and condiments, songs were being sung and poetry recited. The two had not met, but a piece of food sailing from one of the booths across the aisle to the other directed their attention to each other. As their eyes met, they smiled, and a food fight ensued. That night they became fast friends.

 

They started making music together, having a great time playing in clubs in and around San Francisco and writing and recording with an assortment of musicians.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fan clubs were formed, record pressings sold out, and magazines were writing about them. They moved to Hollywood and wrote and recorded soundtracks and movie trailers. From England to New Orleans they have been making music ever since.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fairytale of a Crow

 

In a remote and misty spot, not far inland from the Pacific Ocean, lies a grove of ancient redwood trees that stand untouched by man. High in the branches of one of these trees lived a family of crows. Their nest was large and unruly but beautiful nonetheless. In the nest lay a single mottled egg, and on the first day of spring, he arrived.  He was named Crow, as were all his siblings.

 

As is usual with crows, the household was disorderly. However, this household had a particularly sneaky crow that insisted all chaos was order and all betrayal was imagined. Along with elements of comedy, tragedy, insanity and dreams there was music and flight.  Crow’s light-hearted presence in the flock initially brought joy.  However, others began to resent his cheerful take on their resentments and carping and turned their pecking and sharp caws on him.

 

On a hot summer day, Crow stood on the edge of the nest. His heart was sad, but he knew he had to leave. In the preceding weeks, he had been hopping through the trees from branch to branch, practicing using his wings, and he knew they would catch him if he jumped. He looked out over the forest he loved, whispered goodbye and leapt.

 

His wings worked beautifully. He didn’t stop flying and his heart was cheerful once again as he soared over rivers, houses and along a beautiful coastline. He flew into a thick mist and, looking down, he saw the majestic red peaks of a bridge breaking through. It was here that he landed. When the mist became transparent he saw the bay, the boats, the trees and the fog-softened cityscape. He knew this was where he should be.

 

He flew inland, and the beauty of Golden Gate Park drew him in. He made this place his home and began singing for all who would listen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fairytale of an AlleyCat

 

In a loud city with gray skies and smog filled air was a cold dark alley with stained brick walls. These old, filthy alleys were common in the city, but in this particular alley cowered a little kitten. Surrounded by garbage, drunks and criminals, she hid under a dumpster, eating whatever scraps she could find. Emaciated, wet and shivering, she meowed to the dark night. Echos of "Shut up!” and hurled bottles answered her cries. The kitten would venture out after dark on occasion, and those who saw her commented on how ugly she was and often kicked her and chased her away.

 

She awoke one dark morning so hungry that she ventured a bit further down the sidewalk than she had before. In an unfamiliar area underneath a buzzing streetlight, she discovered a new and wonderful thing; a weed breaking through a crack in the pavement. She sniffed the little yellow flower. It was soft and sweet, nothing like the hard world she had known all her life. It dawned on her that there might be a place where there were more of these beautiful things. A thrill washed over every part of her and, in spite of her weakness, she began to run. She ran, driven by something the flower had awakened in her. Scared and alone she ran on, not knowing to where.

 

She ran until late one night she limped across a road and her bleeding paws felt something soft and cool, a sensation she hadn’t known before. She lay down in the softness, feeling joy for the first time since discovering the little flower. She rolled and meowed and stretched.  Lying on her back, she looked up and saw stars, and they were beautiful.  She fell asleep, happy, in the middle of this sweet bed of grass.

 

When she awoke, there was sunshine and a soft breeze. The sky was blue, a beautiful new color for her. She explored this unusual world of living things and trees. To her surprise people were kind and gave her delicious things to eat. As she grew, many people would speak softly to her and reach out with a gentle hand. Over time the faces became familiar and would greet her with “Hello AlleyCat!”

 

She decided to make her home here, in Golden Gate Park, and she began meowing for all who would listen.