Rose Farrington was kind enough to write down some of her memories about how Wavy Gravy impacted many people's lives.
Wavy Gravy is a great teacher and active participant in the creative process of both The First New Games Tournament and birth of The New Games Foundation. He connected me with Stewart Brand to get a job to help organize the First Tournament.
Wavy also acted as both a physical and spiritual guide to usher us to an awesome venue on Vancouver Island in response to the call from the Aboriginal Peoples to voyage down under where New Games was introduced to "change Australia."
In June of 1973, my boyfriend and I drove Wavy and Spare Change up to the Soap Comfort Farm on Vancouver Island to participate in a concert to raise money for the Farm's work.
The van was just bare metal inside so we never had any difficulty NOT falling asleep at the wheel as the band members practiced their instrumental contributions......seemingly....one at a time.
In Washington we boarded the ferry for Victoria. After we settled in Wavy came over and offered to take Jim Moran and me out to breakfast.
Great!
The breakfast line dwindled to a few, and then the service shut down. Huh?
Wavy then came back and said "Ok, let's go eat."
We were a little confused. He led us to a table and pointed out a tray that still had lots of food on it. From this point forward we all trooped around the dining room, picking out trays with food still on them and eating the leftovers.
What a brilliant lesson! One of many Wavy has spread like seeds around the hippie-sustainability and other movements.
In 1972, he came aboard the Hollywood Pot Express with his teachings during the time in Los Angeles when we were gathering and processing signatures to get the California Marijuana Initiative on the state ballot for the 1972 election.
One Wavy event during that time happened at The Broadway Club, which was in downtown LA in a flimsy, old, big wooden Victorian mansion.
The place was mobbed. Packed so tightly I stood butt to butt with Warren Beatty for twenty minutes. We had to exchange greetings over our shoulders, as we could not move.
One by one, up this very narrow, single-person-wide staircase, we all finally made it into the top-floor, open space with a stage near the top of the stairway.
Wavy was on the stage and started to introduce the first act when oil from the light show spilled, spreading flames across the stage.
Wavy jumped into action. He rolled around in the flames until they were completely doused, jumped up and yelled, "Let's hear it for self immolation!" to a cheering crowd. OMG!
This quick, heroic action on Wavy's part more than likely saved many lives. A stampede to the exit would have been fatal for more than a few of us.
Also present at Peoples Park, we followed Wavy's lead and poked daisies in the gun barrels of the National Guard. He liaised with the Panthers, the Native Americans, and so many other groups.
His comedic solutions were hilarious.
On another tour up to Kesey's and beyond, the bus was stopped at the Canadian border for a lengthy, prolonged search. All the Farmers were herded into the station's building. Wavy got them all around a conference table and started a game that involved slapping hands. The on-duty Customs Agents became so frustrated with the noisy chaos of gleeful hands spanking other hands and people running around the table, the guards threw up their arms and told the Farmers to scoot.
After the ferry ride to Victoria, we get to Soap Comfort Farm on Vancouver Island and started to get ready for the crowds coming to the concert when......there was a ferry strike and nobody could get on the island or come to the concert.
On the night of the Full Moon Wavy mobilized us to take a walk. We were standing at the edge of an open field with the rising moon blinding us with its roaring, majestic beauty.
A telepathic steaming from the multispecies council opened up with a summons from Australian Aboriginal Peoples. "It's time to come across the Big Water."
Infused with this awesome power, I started running, blindly, across the field to the rising moon, arms and legs pumping in a power sprint. I vaguely heard splashing and cussing as I turned around and continued this flat out run, virtually flying back to the group still standing at the edge of the field. Wavy knelt down to feel the bottom of my long dress and muttered, "Her dress isn't even wet."
Still buzzing in a high vibration with this charge of galactic energy, I ran over to a space open to the eastern horizon, picked up a big stick and swung it like a bat. A shooting star followed the tip of the bat as I made a 180-degree swing. Later on, back home, Wavy handed me a clipping from the Vancouver Island newspaper, which mentioned how I'd hit a home run with a star.
The next morning—after this wild run—I went back over to see about a sick baby in a little cabin above the field. With an idle glance I noticed the field was a big, flat pond with rocks scattered in the water.
This is just one of the times Wavy has been present when I've experienced galactic transmission through our multispecies council.
At the end of August, in 1973, he came down the hill where I was lolling in a pond at Pacific High School. I'd been staying with the Hog Farm struggling to heal a massive burn out. While Wavy was approaching, I spied a black snake wriggling its way through the water toward me.
Wavy remarked, "Stewart Brand needs an organizer for an event. Would you like a job?" I looked at Wavy, then at the snake getting closer, swiftly hauled my naked, fat ass out of the pond and said, "Yes." to the job. So started my formal career with New Games.
Again, Wavy facilitated a cosmic connection in my life.
He was present at the First, Second and Third Tournaments with his magical presence.
At the First Tournament, Wavy and The Hog Farm joined with US Army guys to build a bridge at Gerbode so we could haul stuff up into the Valley. People were in awe of this cross-cultural cooperation, as the post-Vietnam war separation among Army soldiers and antiwar demonstrators was still running hot. To model this cooperation among those who came to the event was a game changer.
This was only one of the life-changing events in his long career as a counter-culture icon.
Trampled at the barricades by a crowd at the first Bangladesh Concert, Wavy spent a tough time in a body cast. Nothing—no pain or discomfort—stopped him from being in service to community.
I've always admired Wavy's use of his iconic status. Unlike a vast majority of celebrities, he never stands around looking important or wise. He goes right to the heart of the action to make a vital contribution to good vibes with light-hearted antics and inventive twists on established routines.
Wavy Gravy, Head Referee for the First Tournament—and coiner of the New Games motto Play Hard, Play Fair, Nobody Hurt—has a genius for instilling regular life with intelligent, playful, and healing solutions and contributions.