OCR Text |
Show Abbey and arranged for the two of them to meet... Hard times for the Wandering Vagabond. "So Abbey didn’t know what the hell was going on, but it was arranged that I’d meet In 1975, Abbey moved to Moab, to a ramshackle ranch-style home in Spanish Valley, him in some famous restaurant in Tucson because I’m supposed to be a ‘wolf biologist.’ I and Bob was a frequent visitor. He and Abbey hiked together and drank together. On one was scared to death to meet Ed Abbey. I didn’t know what I was going to say to the guy. | We sat down and he didn’t say anything to me and I didn’t say anything to him...the long memorable evening Greenspan was the paid entertainment at Mi Vida, a high-end restaurant that was once the home to Uranium King Charlie Steen. It was not Bob’s best night; as he recalls, "Yeah...I was drunk and out of practice and I got totally drunk and fell off the chair and sort of screwed up their fireplace. I insulted a bunch of rangers that were silence. But somehow the ice was broken and we started talking and that’s how I met Ed Abbey. : a "Later I found out he thought I was a CIA agent or something. He invited me out to Aravapai Canyon where he was working and to meet his friends. Abbey finally decided Just a few weeks earlier, Greenspan had endured a painful surgical procedure to remove some pre-cancerous polyps and now Bob was eager to tell the polyp story to his new friends. "They looked like little dead fish." The women were not impressed, but for as long as Ed Abbey lived, he always greeted Greenspan with the salutation, "How are those polyps, Bob?" Greenspan returned to Jackson, worked having dinner...I drank a lot of whiskey back then. And then Abbey came in.” A few years later, Abbey recalled the incident, first in Penthouse magazine, then in his book of essays Abbey‘s Road. Ed relocated the incident to Globe, Arizona... I was ok." as a fire control aid for the National Park Service in the Tetons, played music, and climbed and camped with Queenie the Dog. But increasingly, he wandered between Wyoming and Moab. "Back then I just didn’t do Thad a late lunch at the U-Et-Yet Cafe’, then parked my ‘68 VW Fastback in front of the Broad Street Social Club. Closed. The only hippie bar in town--closed. Probably because of my friend Bob Greenspan, who played here last week. Bob Greenspan and the Monkey Wrench Gang. His new song, “Big Tits, Braces and Zits," a ballad of adolescent passion, had been a hit. But as usual he overdosed on ego and bourbon and insulted first the management, then the audience, then the Glob law enforcement people. Not a wise thing to do. Now I suppose he was back in Boulder. Bob was grateful for the publicity. "Yeah...I got a bunch of new gigs thanks to that story that Ed wrote...that was mighty kind of him." Greenspan tried to play poker with Abbey and the Moab gang, but he always lost. "Seems to me that Tom Tom was the guy that won a lot. He had that pipe and the smile and they’d drain me of my money pretty fast.” _ In 1976, Queenie the Dog died and Bob buried her above Moab near the Sand Flats Road. She had been his constant companion for almost 15 years and Bob’s spirits continued to plummet. "After my dog died I was pretty depressed. We'd climbed all these mountains, the canyons down in Utah. So I was drinking pretty heavy in my 30s. It was not a good period in my life." "If I hadn't stayed out here in the small-town West, ] might have really made it big. But then again, I might be dead." Greenspan went to Hollywood and made a demo tape with Columbia Records and then worked some clubs in San Francisco with Mike Bloomfield, his old high school musician buddy. Bloomfield was a straight blues guitar player, did the "Highway 61” album with Bob Dylan, and played with musicians like Buddy Miles and Jimi Hendrix. But six months in California almost killed Bob and in 1981, it did kill Bloomfield. "It’s a bad lifestyle," and Greenspan was on the move again. He traveled to Nashville in the early ‘80s, hoping to sell his songs, then Detroit, and Illinois, but as always, the West continued to tug at his heart and soul. He could never handle those cities. Settling in... On March 14, 1989, Ed Abbey died at his home in Tucson. Bob was living at a YMCA in Chicago when he heard the news and he and his friend, Dan Sullivan, made the 2000 mile drive to Abbey’s memorial service a few days later. It was one of the saddest days of his life, but in way, Abbey’s death marked a watershed moment for Bob. In the years to come, Greenspan would finally grow some roots in Wyoming and establish himself as a talented and reliable musician. He quit drinking the hard stuff and hasn’t fallen off a bar much...I camped out. Hiked. No regular jobs. Life was different back then. Gas was cheap. It didn’t take much money to live." . Bob was fast becoming the Wandering Western Vagabond. He was close to broke much of the time and it worried him occasionally. One of his Moab friends in the mid-70s was another new arrival to town, Bill Benge. Benge was elected county attorney in 1974 and offered a sympathetic ear to Greenspan’s woes. In August 1975, Bob wrote Bill a heartfelt letter from Jackson Hole... Dear Bill, : Well the summer is about shot up here--I stand in the back of my truck like a wilted flower that never came into blossom. I strive for the candle for a little light, but I can’t find a match--and I ain't got no batteries in my flashlight. My hand gropes--and in the darkness I feel--what the...2 An open can of Hershey's syrup. My hand is covered with syrup and I don't have any goddamn ice cream. Ah hell, how can I review the summer--going from bathroom to bathroom, having to sneak craps, raid refrigerators...Where can a person go for respite? I turn the key on my pickup and drive down the road. I feel a jerk and a gug-gug-gue--out of gas. Later a car pulls up--a maniac approaches with a cheap bottle of "Ten High" whiskey. We take a quick drink and pour the remainder in my tank--enough to get to town... IN SALT LAKE CITY... ruth's diner When that Zephyr Guy comes to Salt Lake, he stays with me. stool in years. More than anything, after all these years, Greenspan is grateful for the life he’s led. "I remember the old cowboy, John O'Day. He got kicked in the nuts by a horse and only had one testicle. But ol’ John used to say Cowboy Grace. It went, ‘Vegetables, potatoes, and meat. Goddamn it. Let’s eat.”" A few years ago, an old musician pal of Bob’s to Jackson to play. Charlie small-town West, I might have really made it big. But then again, I might also be dead." Greenspan has few regrets. "You know, we sit around here and we sound like a couple of grumpy old farts, but I come alive when I’m playing my music. I become a young person. That’s what keeps me going and then I become somebody else. That’s the one thing about the spirit of music. When that goes...that’ll be a bad day. But I still get up and rock and roll, you know? I get them dancing on the table and climbing on the bar and having a good time. That's my role. And that’s a big thing in my life." To hear Greenspan LIVE, contact Bob at 307.734.5316. NORMA NUNN (w) 435.259.5021 (h) 435.253.7275 THREE MEAU A DAY... SEVEN DAYSA WEEK... WHY GO ANYWHERE ELSE??? 2100 EMIGRATION CANYON SALT LAKE CITY, UT 84108 801.582.5807 WWW.CUISCENERY.COM came Musselwhite had seen his own hard times, but had survived the "lifestyle," and was now . playing successfully around the world. He told Bob that moving to the West probably wrecked his career. "And you know, he’s probably right. IfI hadn’t stayed. out here in the Each office independently owned & operated — |