An Anthem for The Bear Augustus Owsley Stanley the Third being less a name than a designation, the bearer of the appellation became, of his own inspiration, The Bear. Thus he became and thus remained and every old timer worth salt has a tale or two to tell regarding same: of the time The Bear did this or that incredibly singular, utterly apposite action without apology or shame to his own particular undying fame. Unreachable, unteachable, aflame in the light of his own magnificence reflected in deeds dwarfing the achievements of the run-of-the-mill creative sort by a factor of ten or more, King of Many Things was he of mortal physiology, the soul's chemistry, geography, geology, not to mention the applied physics of sound, regarding which, deaf in one ear, he pronounced stereo to be a distraction affording only one perfect seat in the house upon which to work its elusive illusion setting himself to design the world's most powerful hi-fi system to prove it! One suspects that, had he but one leg he'd have seen the advantage in that and invented accordingly, ingeniously and, it goes without saying, successfully. Lovable and loving in the abstract effusiveness was not his hold card; his judgments swift, certain and irrevocable the last word was his personal property. For the few times he was wrong there is no accounting. Was there ever a man who changed so many while, himself, changing so little? A Cardinal Sign, were there ever one, fixed like a bright white star in dark-blue heaven. Save sentimental eulogies for lesser men and leave it that he was King of Many Things, of perfected personal taste and detailed opinion, first and last a scientist and propounder of a brand new species of reason. No bucolic Heaven for such as Bear, rather a Rock of Ages from where an eagle in full flight might dare a sudden detour into endless dawn. Sail on, dear brother Bear, sail on Robert Hunter March 20, 2011