Recently de-classified info re: Nippy & Mugg Part 1

But this story REALLY begins (in late 1969 I THINK) when the infamous Mugg Muggles and (the increasingly legendary) Nippy Katz (then known as Lyman Snade) decided to combine their formidable musical talents and create a 'band' for the express purpose of extracting spare change from the tourists (and occassional college students) of the Greater San Francisco Bay Area.

Our inspiration for the name of our combo came from a well known (at least to US, rabid country blues afficianados such as we were and remain) song written and performed by Robert Johnson (celebrating a certain model of Hudson automobile) "Terraplane Blues".

Our favorite line was "I'm going to hoist your hood, mama, I'm bound to check your oil", so we came up with the name "The Dipsticks". A couple of reefers and a beer or two later, this morphed into "Denny and the Dynamic Dipsticks" (I've always been a sucker for alliteration, ever since I first read Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven" with it's wonderful "and the silken, sad, uncertain rustling.).

We thought it might be amusing to create a 'phantom' band member, Denny, who could be the butt of our jokes. We had a constant stream of bizarre excuses (which also helped to create sympathy and loosen the purse strings of our prospective patrons) like "he's trying to raise the money to bail his mother out of jail" and jive like that. We also came up with cheap 'costumes'. We claimed to work at a Service Station (Denny was the chief mechanic), so we wore work shirts (purchased from local thrift emporiums) with name tags and various oil company logos.

Just for the record, this was before (remember, we're still back in 1969) I had official become "Mugg Muggles" (the story behind the creation of this monicker will be dealt with, in depth, at a later date) and at this point was most frequently known as Howlin' Muskrat, Esq.

D & the D D's repertoire spanned from Hank Williams to Hank Ballard, from Willie Nelson to Willie Dixon, from Jelly Roll Morton to Chuck Berry encompassing nearly every genre of American Popular Music. Instrumentation was Acoustic Guitar, WashTub Bass, Awesome Home-Made Kazoos, harmonica, nose flute and vibrant baritone vocals. We traded off the WashTub duties, depending on who knew the chords to whatever song.

Fast forward to summer 1972.

Nippy and I had discovered a reasonably lucrative area to "mine" in the general area of San Francisco's Aquatic Park and had been working this same turf two or three days a week. One morning, after having been playing for maybe a half hour, a fellow appeared with a large cardboard carton on a rolling wagon. I immediately recognized him as Grimes Poznikov, already a legendary San Francisco Street Musician. Poznikov had single-handedly liberated the streets of San Francisco for busking and had been arrested several times, resulting in the repeal of several City Ordinances regarding public performances. Many's the time I saw Mr. Poznikov, known as "The Automatic Human Jukebox" on the street corners of Ess Eff or in the shadows of the Hallowed Halls of Berserkeley's University of California. He had a great gimmick. He had taken a large cardboard box, such as a refrigerator would come packed in, and drawn buttons with numbers and letters on cut out tabs in front. There was also a song list. He would stand hidden within the 'jukebox' until someone deposited money and made their selection from the song list, whereupon he would pull down on a rope connected to a pulley causing a large flap in front to raise dramatically (accompanied by the sound of a slide whistle). Revealed at last, Mr. Poznikov would play a chorus of the tune on his trumpet. The quality and length of each tune was completely related to the deposited donation. I once, out of curiousity, deposited a shiny new 25 cent piece and got about 8 bars of flippant kazoo for my niggardly offering.

So, I watched with a mixture of amusement and amazement as Mr. Poznikov started to set up his rig less than 10 feet away. Common courtesy dictated that he should have moved to a spot where the distinct certainty of 'sonic bleed' would not be a factor. I learned later that we were technically in his "spot", that he had previously used that particular location, but had been out of town working the Republican National Convention for the past week or so. I had no idea of his alledged 'prior claim' at the time and, believing as I did that there really was no such thing as a 'reserved spot' on a public street, interpreted his choice of immediate proximity to be both rude and hostile.

I proceeded to quite politely ask if he might move a bit further away and was met with a barrage of verbal abuse, including the single most absurdly funny accusation I had ever received in my life.

He called ME "a CIA Provocateur"! ! !

After several moments of hysterical laughter engendered by his bizarre declaration, it became clear that there appeared to be very little possibility of a diplomatic solution to the current crisis.

At this point, Nippy and I looked at each other and immediately shared the same thought "it's time for a Battle of the Bands" and moved even closer to our antagonist.

We then exorted the crowd to gather around and be the judges of this impromtu event.

I brought to their attention the fact that, while the Jukebox's music was TOTALLY contingent on an up front donation, Denny and the Dynamic Dipsticks were there to entertain regardless of feduciary gain. I also pointed out that they had a choice of whether or not to contribute, based on their decision regarding our level of entertainment competancy, whereas they must give away hard earned money to Mr. Poznikov only to discover that he was a piss poor trumpet player.

We then launched into a particularly passionate rendition of W.C.Handy's "St. Louis Blues" which included my improvising some rather 'risque' lyrical variations referencing Mr. Poznikov's skill at fellatio, among other things. "I hate to see that evenin' sun go down, but Grimes Poznikov 'goes down' divinely".

I don't recall there being a second tune in this contest. The next thing we knew, he was trundling off with his heavily laden wagon to the applause of the significant crowd which had gathered to witness this spectacle. Coins and bills rained down into our open guitar case as we basked in the glory of our victory.