Opening Doors

I sat down with Grey Bear Erickson for an hour on a Sunday afternoon, a day that had begun with an open mic session, an event he facilitates at Lefty’s coffee shop in Los Olivos. 

The open mics are among the many gifts Grey Bear brings to the Valley, offering a musical experience for all ages and all abilities. I’ve been to several, and I have never failed to be dazzled by talent, touched by honest sentiment, and fortified with a renewed sense of community. 

“The more we can open doors to people, and say hello to someone we don’t know, I think we’re going to be living in a place that we really value while we’re here,” says Grey Bear.

A gifted musician, record producer, and teacher, Grey Bear learned guitar as a kid at Dunn Middle School in 1994 and has performed across the decades in local and international venues. Now he is also contemplating a brand-new role, bravely stepping from behind his guitar to the helm of a nonprofit organization called Más (Music and Art Support).

Más is still in the earliest stages, “on the precipice of becoming real,” but the aim is to restructure the culture of music community-wide, providing lessons, events, performances, and experiences in an inclusive spirit and at sliding scale fees. He envisions a brick-and-mortar facility eventually, and maybe somewhere down the line a park for all the arts. Exciting ideas are taking shape.

That gives you a sense of Grey Bear: He works very hard and is a force for good, a passionate advocate for community, and a keen observer of the culture. Born in the Santa Ynez Valley 44 years ago — delivered, in fact, by the beloved Dr. Lou Netzer, raised on a horse ranch, and mentored by a mix of the Greatest Generation and Boomers — Grey Bear has traveled the world but chose to return to the place where he started. 

“Growing up in the Valley was the most magical thing,” he recalls. “There were mentors everywhere.” He worked weekends at Jensen Guitar & Music Co., delivered Antonio’s pizzas, and helped chaperone snowboarding trips for Back Door Board Shop. “Work wasn’t just some negative thing you did to get money to buy material items,” he explains. “Work was how you participated in the community.”

“And when Louie Netzer made Side Street Café, that was the place for discourse,” he continues. “I got to see people have tough discussions over great food, but the differing opinions were never personal. The conversations were about how people perceived a problem, and about coming together to find solutions.”

“The Santa Ynez Valley is such a great microcosm of America right now,” he muses. “We have everything we need, but we are still capable of being so much more.”

And he is doing his best to make this happen. He is masterful at facilitating opportunities for folks to become visible to one another, and a mutual exchange of encouragement takes place. He is behind the scenes of countless local musical events and worthy causes, and he has been hosting the open mic at Lefty’s every second Sunday for the last three years. 

“I see a lot of amazing people who just blow me away, not only with their skills, but their tenacity for caring,” he says. “Today, 12-year-old Arrow performed an Amanda Gorman poem from memory that got a standing ovation, and our eldest performer, Byron Laursen, and his wife, Teresa, sang a moving duet that brought tears to everyone’s eyes.”

Grey Bear and his partner, Adriana, are parents of a young son, Bjorn, and being Bjorn’s father is the most important role of Bear’s life. He speaks with respect of the parents in the neighborhood, their decency and diligence, and the challenges young families face. 

We are all up against intrusive technology; ubiquitous screens; the commodification of everything, including attention; outsourcing and indifference to local growers and makers; the spectacle of artificial intelligence; and a shameful period of belligerence and folly in our country’s history. 

An impressive thinker, Grey Bear can espouse on every one of those themes with clarity and insight, but his philosophy is succinctly summarized with this advice: choose humanity.

I asked him what his current state of mind is. He thought for a moment and said this: Listen more. Make more space for others. Welcome those who are cold to the fire.

“Maybe I opened the door this morning for someone who was having a tough day,” he added wistfully, almost as an afterthought.

“You did,” I replied. And I know it’s true, firsthand.