The Eidetic Fugue, part three.

We stopped twice between Salem and San Francisco. The spirit of young businessmen cloaked beneath our layers of cultural tokens and attitude. We were on a run.
It wasn't like we were running a business yet as the doors to the shop hadn't even opened yet. Since we were building a store, we just knew we needed something to sell if we were going to attract anyone. We kind of knew where we were going in the Bay area, we had some addresses and some company names. We had maps and some place to stay - actually I can't remember who we stayed with that fateful trip - I'm sure it did not involve any payment.

What has puzzled me, and perhaps others, in the 40+ years since the Eidetic Fugue came into existence, are our assumptions about how you stock a store. Family ethics taught me that you didn't buy anything if you didn't have the money, so nothing was bought on credit. This is very weird for a retail store. We also felt we needed a personal relationship with as many sellers as possible, so we visited as many suppliers as we could, to be sure we could work together. And we paid cash and never had a bank account. This was not a common business model, I'm guessing this style of business management is probably even less common now.

We went to some of the largest poster makers in the bay area and purchased band posters, art posters and anything that Bill, Mike and I thought was cool. I wish we had struck up friendships or at least stayed in contact with some of these interesting people. It apparently never crossed my mind - don't know about Mike and Bill. We found a record dealer that would give us 10% discount for volume (like over 20 records! wow!) and we bought several copies of the albums we all wanted and figured would sell. Before we knew it, we had spent most of our funds and were ready to return to Salem. We also must have gone to a concert, played in Golden Gate part, walked the streets of Haight Ashbury and done some other stuff but I can't really recall the details. Funny how that happens sometimes.

Oh yes, we also bought newspapers. "Underground" newspapers, like the Rolling Stone, the Avatar from Boston and several papers from the Bay area. These held the latest news for us about what was going on. These papers did get old quickly, but not for several weeks. The news cycle was a little different then. Aside from word of mouth and rumors, there was no other way of keeping track of events and celebrations. The papers were so young, both in spirit and quality. The newspaper format can be so rich and informing. I'd still rather pick up the printed copy of Salem Monthly and read it than visit the website. There are still a few newspapers in our attic from this trip, getting more faded over time. Maybe alternative newspapers will become a lost tradition, maybe not. I hope not.

And we bought buttons. Buttons were much more popular than any other way of personally stating your point of view. Tattoos were not popular, bumper stickers were stuck in mainline politics and nothing else had the same personal style as a button. A lot of the buttons were about peace, the war, drugs and being different. I suppose we bought a hundred, maybe less. We didn't wear buttons at the time so, using our personal perspective again, we didn't go too deep into buttons.

Back in Salem, we began putting out our newly bought treasures. The records went into a few cardboard boxes and sat on a small table I brought from home. Silly us, we priced them below the local store prices, even thought you couldn't buy the same albums within 50 miles. We put the 'coolest' records on the left side podium by the door to balance out the weird device sitting on the other side. The posters went up on the 30' long, 9' high, south wall and the remaining flat poster stock went into the back room. Some of the posters we had bought were 'black light' posters, so we acquired a cheap light fixture and had it available for viewing the black light posters in the dark back room. The buttons went into the display case. This left the 6'x2' glass and wood display case mostly empty, We decided to open it up to local artists. It seemed fair to give anyone a place to sell their stuff. The store would ask for 10% of the artist's sale price or we would negotiate.

We brought in my Sony reel-to-reel tape deck and put it on the 2nd shelf of the desk. We hooked up a record player and some good sized speakers. Mike opened one of the newly purchased albums, we turned up the volume and all had Pepsi to celebrate. Since there was only one chair, we all sat on the floor and it was good. Surrounding us were posters of places, people and events in a style created by our peers. We had music from our times blasting the walls of this long and narrow downtown business. We were starting a new beginning and lots of things were changing. We were on the cusp of our third decade in life and nothing appeared too hard. We were enveloped by the culture of our emerging generation. We were ready for customers and it was the beginning of Thanksgiving week. Things were about to get busy.

The Eidetic Fugue (pt 2 of ??)

Note: If you are reading this in Facebook, please go to the bottom and click the "View Original Post" - Facebook just has the words, the blog has pictures and a little pizazz.

Before we went to the Bay area to buy provisions for the shop, we did some local provisioning. Bill M. knew of a device at the local used furniture store that would be great in the window. After he described it, we all had to go see it one sunny afternoon in later October. It was located on Silverton road, somewhere near where Lancaster is today. We entered the establishment. Bill obviously had been here before and led us through a series of rooms to a dark and dingy back corner. Tucked in amongst the lamps, couches and worn out end tables was a 4' tall box on a 3 legged steel stand with lots of fancy writing on it and a power cord coming out the bottom. It was made out of dark metal and pretty heavy. It had pictures of far away places on the sides and had lots of fancy script indicating it had the power to heal. We think it was probably used by traveling eye doctors in some different time and place. When you opened the top of the box (about 2'x2'), you could see a series of colored lens, mounted on a drive and a odd looking light bulb. The funny sized light bulb shined through the lenses as they rotated and the colored light was projected through mirrors and lenses onto the wall. I wish I had a picture of it or at least remembered what it was called. It was way cool though, believe me.

We had to have it.

So we offered half of the marked price, after plugging it in and testing it, carried it out to Mike's VW squareback and hauled it back to the shop. We knew where to put it. On both sides of the shop's front door were raised platforms. The shop opening was in a V shape with glass on all sides. We now had something for the podium on the right side.

We also found a long counter with a small 12"x2" slot in the middle and a wooden front. The back was open and had shelves and a good finish on the top. This ended up being the main desk that held the money, supplies, the stereo and general whatnot. Whoever felt like running the shop would sit behind this counter. In the same used furniture store was a large glass display case. Both pieces were really inexpensive and we bought them. Somehow we got these two pieces back to the shop. We measured the slot and ordered several rolls of paper from a local industrial supply outfit that just fit through the slot. We figured this plain brown paper would be the packaging for any posters, records, buttons, etc that we would eventually get in stock and sell.

We had nothing to sell yet, of course.

Before we opened the store, we needed to advertise. We thought of many ideas - we had lots of thinking capacity - and ended up deciding on a billboard in the freeway. One place for lots of customers. How else to get people to stop in Salem? Bill began drawing designs and was greatly challenged by the scale. How many artists get to put up billboards? We thought it was a gareat idea, but the price was too high for our budget. Maybe TV? No, too high also. How about radio? Sure enough, a repeating 30 second spot could be bought for pretty cheap back then on KBZY. We thought all the kids, especially the girls, listened to KBZY. Bill and Mike went to the studio with some good records and did a great job of recording an ad to introduce the shop. We set the date for the ads to run in late November.

But that was not enough. We needed posters and worked with Panther Press in Salem to print 50 black and white 12x16 posters. They were awesome - I put in image in the previous blog post (pt 1). The only words on the poster were the name of the store and the address - no products, no corporation logo; just the pretty lady, store name and the address. We decided we would put them up at Bob's, in a few downtown windows when the store opened. I remember running around in late November asking confused managers of local drive-ins if we could put this funny looking poster in their window. The ones we asked said "Sure". We ended up giving the rest away, I think. The only remaining Eidetic Fugue poster I know about is in my attic and the words have been cut off. Anyone have one?

And we decided we needed business cards. We had a hundred color ones made and, like the poster, I only know of one copy left. It is a little ragged around the corners. Bill M did the hand lettering and designed it. Notice the hours - noon to 10. This was genius. None of us wanted to get up early and neither did our customers. As we will find out in a later chapter, closing at 10 was not always easy. I had forgotten that we had a payphone installed also, which we used as the official store phone number. Turns out it was free too!

An old cigar box of my grandfathers was chosen to be the cash register and one of us built wooden dividers to separate the bills from the coins. A leather rocking chair was situated next to the stereo, inside the desk and, once we got records in stock, we figured customers would want to sit and listen for a while before buying. We knew we liked listening in the private booths at Meier and Franks to the crappy beach boy and pop music.

We struck a deal with the local beverage company and got them to install a Pepsi machine. We were pretty much hooked on Pepsi and thought it was a coup to have our own machine. And then they gave us the KEY! Can you believe it? I can still feel the excitement in the room when the installation guys laid the keys on the desk and walked out. Even before we opened, people put money in, took out a pepsi. We just opened it and got a cold can. And we got their money too! No one else seemed to understand how incredibly cool this was (especially since everyone seemed to know Pepsi would put a machine anywhere they could sell product).


And we still had nothing to sell, but we had a plan.


Next chapter we hit the road to the bay area in Mike's customized VW squareback to get stock. We knew Mike had connections and we still had some dollars to buy stuff to sell in the store. Besides in early November of 1967, lots was going on in San Fransisco and the rains were starting in Oregon. We needed to get out of town. There weren't any girls hanging around yet but we figured that would all change when the store really opened. We had started with 550$ and even after all of our purchases so far, we still had lots to spend...

The Eidetic Fugue (pt 1 of 3?)

Long, long ago, in a town called Salem, several young men were longing for female company. Many summer evenings passed as they cogitated over what could be done. Finally an idea took hold - if we build it, they will come kind of thing. We decided that we needed a place, perhaps a store of some kind, downtown would be best, that was attractive for all, threatening only to an older generation and might even make enough money to keep us in pepsi and music.

At that time, (say fall 1967), there was nowhere in this town of many thousands to buy the rock and roll that was being created in San Francisco, Boston, New York and elsewhere. Today it is hard to believe you couldn't buy popular culture items since you can do it so many different ways in 2009, but back 43 years ago, such was the case. And if you couldn't buy 33's from the Cream, Jimi Hendrix or Janis Joplan, you certainly couldn't buy posters, stickers, buttons and anything else from the emerging counter-culture. Not in Salem... yet.

I had the money, Bill had the art skills, Mike had the connections and away we went. First to find a location for rent, cheap. We found a store front that was narrow and half a block long and it was on HIGH STREET... what could be better for a place to buy music, posters, incense and other legal items in 1967. The older gentleman that owned the building, met us there and led us through the two rooms. That took about 30 seconds. He showed us the heater, told us he needed two months rent in cash. We all trekked two blocks to the bank and handed him the cash. Now our 500$ booty was down to 400$.

We got brooms, mops, rags and water and cleaned up the place. We didn't bother with paint with one exception - Bill wanted to do a mural on the glass entry door. It looked just like the poster (oops, I got ahead of myself.. how did we get the posters?) So be it we said and proceded to buy dayglow red paints and all cheered Bill on as he worked into the night, painting the lady on the door. We needed a name. I can't remember all the names that were tossed out but I have always had a fondness for the final solution. We wanted a place that you remembered, that put you into a new state of mind and perhaps left a few marks on your mind, too. We wanted to name to be unique and easy to shorten. And we wanted it to be ours.

Eidetic meant, at least to us, was a type of image that left its mark. Today the dictionary says it is "visual imagery vividly experienced and readily reproducible with great accuracy and in great detail". This meant the shop was a poster shop first, and then a bead, music, art, button and whatnot shop second.
Fugue has a musical meaning, referring to a certain type of composition. We meant the psychiatric meaning actually (me being a psychology major) and today's dictionary says it is a state when a "person suffers from loss of memory, often begins a new life, and, upon recovery, remembers nothing of the amnesic phase" .
Put these together and we were trying to create a place where experiencing the images blows you away with their vividness and detail and you are in a new beginning and really can't remember much about the experience except things are different. Everyone called it "the fugue" and basically ignored any intention the name might have had.

Next installment has us off to the Bay area for provisioning and opening the store, a few surprises happen and mostly, things are good.