The hippie wisdom of Bob Dylan’s mentor
All of a sudden, he entered our camp encompassed by an escort of diversely dressed, energetic hipsters. Some said he was Bob Dylan’s unique guide. Others said he gave Bob Dylan his originally hit of corrosive. Neither one of the groups appeared to be certain about the veracity of their custom. Both swore he was meriting their worship. It was 2008. I was in Wyoming, in the timberland. Precious stone Dave Whitaker was the most acclaimed man at the Rainbow Gathering, and he had recently plunked down on the blue folding chair before me.
At that point, I didn’t realize he was a prominent American craftsman, nonconformity extremist and radio personality. I didn’t realize that he was one of the main individuals from The Diggers, an expressions bunch that additionally gave free food to the destitute of Haight-Ashbury. I didn’t realize that he had left his family’s home as an adolescent in 1957 and bummed a ride 1,881 miles to join the beat verse scene of San Francisco. I didn’t realize that he had become called the Mayor of Haight Street, not for his political perspicacity but rather for his capacity to get individuals out of prison and forestall turf battles between the troublemakers and the skins in the area.
I didn’t have the foggiest idea about any of what I would later discover he warmly named his “hipstory.” All I knew was that the quieted voices and quick looks denoted the passageway of a remarkable individual.
“Pssst, I believe he’s Jewish,” somebody murmured to me. At that point my companion Daniel Feld steered up close to me with a naughty smile all over. “Hey there,” he articulated unquestionably. “We should go give him a ‘Shalom Aleichem.’ ” Without hanging tight for my reaction, he made a direct path towards the squires lounging around Diamond Dave.
My nature was to connect and pull Daniel back. “Is this against some Rainbow rule?” I stressed. However, Daniel is a power of nature—gregarious, valiant, and with that fretful want new encounters that all creative spirits share. We’d made it this far together, and I wasn’t going to let him do this all alone.
We had gone through three days driving a U-Haul over the tremendous American scene, pressed with (in a real sense!) a huge load of food, tiki lights, a versatile shower, tents, camping beds, pots and skillet, a major metal barrel, organic product roll-ups, trucks, a bike, and a Mormon companion named Notice who we got in Utah.
We showed up in the center of no place, Wyoming, into a complex of 20+ campgrounds spread over miles of woodland, loaded up with bears, moose, mosquitos, and 30,000 well disposed nonconformists. There, we manufactured a kitchen without any preparation, burrowed a fire pit, and facilitated 1,000 individuals in the most abnormal Shabbat supper I had been to (at the very least the clothing regulation was not what one would see in Boro Park).
Unloading the “Jerusalem Camp” truck, 2008. ©Zev Padway
Unloading the “Jerusalem Camp” truck, 2008. ©Zev Padway
We had chipped in for this excursion to help our companion Zev Padway, chief of the veggie lover, fit “Jerusalem Camp” kitchen at Rainbow. Zev is a legend. Overflowing with magnetism and dangerously sharp mind, Zev was some time ago a Hare Krishna vagabond who once won the Purim outfit challenge at Chabad of Berkeley (he wasn’t wearing ensemble). He later met Asi Spiegel (author of the biggest Passover Seder on the planet) who propelled him to make “Jerusalem Camp” at Rainbow to serve a great many individuals free veggie lover, genuine food, combined with Torah schooling. Today, he runs a mainstream veggie lover, legitimate bistro in the spiritualist city of Safed in the north of Israel, and is co-maker of The Kabbalah Coloring Book in association with the transcendent Israeli craftsman David Friedman.
Yet, this was my first time at the Rainbow Gathering and I attempted to become familiar with Rainbow’s entertaining financial culture and rules for making coordinated disruption. Innovation was disheartened. Cash wasn’t permitted. In the event that you needed to purchase something at the Trading Circle, a sparkling stone was of considerably more use than a dollar greenback. Individuals gave themselves new names, similar to Hoot, Human, Tree, Plunker, Gypsy, Wolfman, and Moonflower. Obliging greetings were supplanted with philosophical articulations of harmony and congruity like “Welcome home, sibling,” “All around accumulated,” and “What is your heart melody?”
Daniel sang chazzanut to a huge number of nonconformists. I served legitimate, vegetarian cholent to individuals, everything being equal, sizes, tones, and scents. We become friends with the Jewish head of a biker group of rascals, who wore a couple of tzitzit we gave him until they were totally ragged. The person outdoors close to us brought his pet wolf, and our companion Notice had as of late completed the process of giving us an involved exercise in how to effectively get away from a charging moose. Unexpectedly, Daniel named the moose Shaina in memory of his pet jackass. However, that story is for some other time.
“Shaina” the moose. ©Daniel Feld
“Shaina” the moose. ©Daniel Feld
Remembering our common encounters, we moved toward Diamond Dave. “Welcome home, sibling!” Daniel’s unmistakable voice sang among the old whitebark pines around us. Precious stone Dave zeroed in his look on us. His eyes shined happily. Daniel started doing what he excelled at. Socializing. Precious stone Dave was without a doubt Jewish. He had even lived on a kibbutz in Israel for a brief timeframe. Yet, he had never had a Jewish right of passage.
My Chabad senses began to shiver. I hurried back to my tent and snatched my tefillin. The Talmud encourages that putting on tefillin is among the best sure mitzvahs in the whole Torah.1 The open door was brilliant.
Precious stone Dave was enchanted. He sat peacefully as Daniel folded the ties over his arm. We sang the Shema with him. He shut his eyes, and the noontime daylight gleamed off the dark black tefillin box as though it were a crown on his head. Flying creatures peeped previously. The radicals around us watched in stunningness. We were all inclination the occasion.
Jewel Dave opened his eyes. They were wet around the edges. Daniel and I started to sing mazal tov, generally sung in places of worship the world over. Organic product roll-ups were tossed, and Diamond Dave tapped his fingers absentmindedly on his knee as we applauded, moved and skipped around him.
Daniel Feld (right) putting Tefillin on Diamond Dave (left). ©Zev Padway
Daniel Feld (right) putting Tefillin on Diamond Dave (left). ©Zev Padway
The Baal Shem Tov encouraged that all that one sees and hears is an exercise in how to serve the Creator. We had a hippy legend sitting before us. He should have something to share. As I eliminated his tefillin I asked him, “Precious stone Dave, what’s the key to life?” It appeared he had been hanging tight for this. He reclined and grinned.
Interspersing the air with his correct hand like a maestro conveying his cadenza, he conveyed four stanzas:
Cast a wide net
Locate the repeating theme
Allow life to thrive
Try not to freeze, simply keep it natural
It was accurate. Each word was required; each line total.
I expressed gratitude toward him for his shrewdness. A couple of moments later, he vanished into the forested areas from whence he had come, encircled by his company.
The involvement in Diamond Dave kept going a couple of moments, yet from that second until this very day, I have wound up rehashing his exercise. Regardless of whether I’m guiding somebody about dating, profession exhortation, otherworldly development, or a large group of other human dreams, I regularly end up citing Diamond Dave. I thought we had given him the endowment of a Jewish right of passage, however he had offered us the endowment of sage guidance. As Diamond Davewould state, it’s tied in with “accomplishing all the more together.”
The Torah educates, “You will ascend before a sage and you will regard the zaken, etc.”2 Rashi, clarifies that zaken, the old Hebrew word for senior, is an abbreviation for three Hebrew words: “Zeh kana chochmah,” signifying “this individual obtained astuteness.”
On that mid year day, under the covering of the Creator’s great sky and trees, I discovered that sages come in all structures.
The Rebbe was once asked by an old lady (more youthful than him) how he could stand and welcome individuals for quite a long time without tiring. The Rebbe answered with a grin, “Each spirit is a jewel. Would one be able to become burnt out on checking jewels?”
Much obliged to you, Diamond Dave.
