20th Annual Spring Feast with Mad Fables

Hi, it's me aqain, honored to be asked to write the announcement for Fables has been doing its thing, punching holes in the infrastructure of conventional modern rock and caressing the souls and hearts of a long, wide trail of choice music lovers.

So they tell me this June marks the parting of the ways of Mad Fables and the Spring Feast. Swansong, curtains, Fin del camino. 20 is plenty they say, so let's make the last a harmonic convergence to boggle the minds of the gods themselves.

	DATE: Saturday, June 5, rain or shine.
	LOCATION: Roy's house on Rt. 519 Belvedere, NJ.
	TIME:1 pm til dark--Music starts at 3 pm.

Magic in Belvidere! I see cult history ready to explode, dwarfing the Secaucus Seven and Field of Dreams. I see a generation hanging a left together and turning to look back on itself.

I see T-shirts par Rich Rheiner flying off the press, Radtke and Dugan ballooning into town, the likes of homeys I haven't seen since the last Democrats ruled Washington. I hear the official trivia:

1. ) Shower time for (fill in).
2. ) Address of the Belleville house.
3. ) You left what outside?
4. ) Jeff's successful 1974 bet to quit smoking was made with whom?
5. ) (a) How much did George Benson charge Mike D.?
       (b) What did Mike pay?

I hear musical scapes never dreamed before, I see tears of awe choked back. Zounds, I can even glimpse a fleeting visit from the ghost of the King! (Well, maybe it's Vic Morrow.)

WHAT TO BRING: (1) Lawn chairs. (2) A tasty, imaginative food offering, and enough of it to give yourself the pleasure of hearing eight to ten people rave about it. (3) A stash of well-preserved truth-telling memories of bygone feasts, and enough of them to shake the rafters of eight to ten of us whose realities (and waistlines) seem to be descending too surely into middle-age torpor. We need not get all Big chill about this, but remember, our individual memories are the storehouses of one another's pasts, as Proust said. (or the Kinq, or Vic Morrow or someone.) (4) Gloves and stuff for softball (5) Directions to Steve Millington's mom's house.

As for me, it may be impossible to find my way out of the desert in time for the gig. Which means it'll likely be the next lifetime when I see lots of these old friends again. No matter, Just do me a favor. At a late 70's feast I sang the lower part in a duet of "If I Fell" with Spence and must have lost it as I haven't been able to sing it right ever since. If at 4 feasts later allowing a key run to score in our 15-1 loss--please hang on to it and notify me.

Manly hugs,

Mario Mulligan
Tucson, Arizona
April 1993

Yes, Trish did the cover for number five. She then became a permanent contributor of inner illustrations. The reason you didn't find anything in your search was that I never had put the cover artists on a web page. The search only finds text that is on the site. The task of putting all the content of the 'magazine' onto the web is daunting.

And Ted is not an alien -- he was born in Pascack Valley Hospital, New Jersey in the wing now referred to as Area 49.
 

Damn, that Ted. He was the first guy I knew who had an earring. The...