archive 4-1-02 to 3-1-02
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Confederacy of Scum Supershow 2002
Sept. 27th and 28th New Orleans
After missing a few nights of wrestling on the tube I followed along with the number#1 wrestler in the game today..Steve Austin to his first night of work since Wrestlemania. The new RAW was damned good. The Wrestling Observor has been moaning all week about the "split" being in favor of Smackdown on Thursdays.
As I've said repeatedly..CHUMP HOGAN RUINS any promotion he wrestles for. Smackdown is DOOMED.
On the other hand, RAW tonight featured besides Stonecold: William Regal, RVD, Bubba Ray Dudley as a solo wrestler, Bradshaw, HHH, Ric Flair, Undertaker, Kane, Raven, The Hardyz...hell...Bossman and Mr. Perfect looked almost good too. An entertaining night..not the best they will acheive..but pretty. AND it was a totally CHUMPSTER-FREE 2 hours of action.
I'm a big fan of Lance Storm's commentary's on his easy to find website (DUH?!?!?!?!?!? search "Lance Storm") and at his suggestion I'm going to give Thursday nights show a shot. I recommend all those who join me to pack along barfbags for when Chumpster rips his gigged shirt off. Even you fans of his must agree...Those bogus "coffee grounds" whiskers MUST FUCKING GO!!!!!
We were referred to a bar in a tiny "town" known as Hunter 6 miles South of here called Riley's. It's not really a "town" or "city" in any damn way..but the bar is awful damn good. We were told it was "rustic" which means in my book that Dick Murdoch might have dipped his beak there many years ago. Nature never called when Marla and I were there but there was a sign on the damn wall to direct us to the TOILETS which were definetly outdoors if we had been in need. It's always a good sign when you walk in the door and Hank Sr. is playing on the jukebox. It's also a good sign when you hear Waylon and George and it wasn't YOU who plugged the damn thing with dollar bills. We'll be going back to Riley's.
The last place I drank at named Riley's was on S.E. 92nd street in the Lentz district in Portland. That place sold homecooked food for $2 or $3 per plate; I doubt that they had a restaurant license. Not that I bothered enough to ask...
My shitbird came back last night and sat in the tree outside our bedroom window shrieking like it's pecker had been snipped off by its damn beak. He made all the same old sounds but they were louder than ever. I woke up at one point and thought he was using a distortion pedal to augment his little vocal chords to further fuck with my mind. I managed to sleep in spite of him.
I've been wanting to spend some time reading but I'm too damned fucking busy. I bought a huge bag of old Westerns dating from the mid 50's to the mid 60's that I'd love to read before I have to sell 'em. I also found a book about "how to avoid alien abduction" and a hardback copy of the Albert Goldman hatchet job on John Lennon. I'm tempted to re-read it before I sell it..but it'll probably send me on another Beatle diatribe if I do. Oh well....let the chips fall where they may.
3/30 pt. II
I sent this message to the Widowmaker a few minutes ago after we yakked with Jimmy Satan on the phone.
"Hey..I learned about 10 minutes ago that Cosmo has tried to recruit (without success) our old guitar player Jimmy for a bogus Rancid Vat lineup.
Just thought you should know that as far as C.O.S. affairs go we don't endorse whatever the hell he's doing whatsoever. It sounds like he's trying to work up some sort of "gimmick" for himself to be involved in for the supershow.
We have absolutely no intention of being involved in any "east coast RV vs. SW RV"...because there is ONLY ONE RANCID VAT....and it's the band Marla and I started 14 years before Howie was ever involved.
PERIOD. I'd appreciate if you circulate this to the other C.O.S. band honcho's.
We have no axe to grind with Howie whatsoever. I suggest he MC the supershow perhaps if he's looking for something to do. If he wants to start a RV tribute band more power to him. It's not Rancid Vat however and never will be. We aren't going to have any part of some sort of "carny" work between a thrown together bogus RV and the real thing.
This is just to set the record straight.
I'm disappointed in Cosmo. When he suggested starting an alternate lineup of R.V. I thought he was joking; he's on horrible terms with Eric Perfect..and Jimmy Satan and Eric Simpson were OUR friends whom we brought into the band. Who else is there?? Bernie for christ's sake??? Cosmo always hated him. Webb is dead. Don was a very shortlived band member who Howie always bitched about.
Perhaps I should go out and try to book myself with some of the local wrestling promotions as the "Cosmic Commander of wrestling". I'll wear a turban and wrap around day-glo sunglasses and use as a catchphrase "I was in Bagdad when YOU were in your DAD's bag..".
It sounds like Cosmo is bound and determined to make enemies of us. That's a fucking shame.
What a fucked up day. Until about 5 minutes ago when I heard that stinky old douchebag snob leech the Queen Mother finally kicked the bucket. Now a grin has turned my frown upside down. It'll be a party night!! YEEHAW!! Other than that it's been a fucked day. Since yesterday I beat my brains out proofreading my great work "Hostile City or bust" I looked forward to getting out of the house to see a special pile of records a vendor was to bring to a flea market. The fucker no showed me. I went to a record store and was driven out by paint fumes. I went to a huge antique mall South of here and didn't see one damn record. Overnight I woke up feeling like I was going to puke the bed. I must've ate too much of Elvis's great lasagne last night. I took a middle of the night shit and ate a tums and woke up feeling better. Until I got into the livingroom whereupon El informed me I had a couple drop-in visitors.
Look, I don't want anybody..ANYBODY..not my goddamned MOTHER (especially her) or my Sister who I haven't seen in a few years or one of my C.O.S. brethren or EVEN Simon Stokes himself knocking on my door without calling first. PERIOD. Unfortunately, when I try to explain this to people who grew up in a culture where knocking without calling is permitted..it only seems to hurt their feelings.
I thought of this analogy. In India it's part of the local culture on the part of many folks to drink urine. They have a set of good reasons I suppose to believe it's healthful. Good for them. I however, DON"T wanna drink PISS.
Likewise even though a friend may have a very friendly, well meaning "our home is your's my friend..and you're always welcome" attitude towards ME...(which I appreciate) unfortunately I'd almost rather DRINK PISS than have people popping in any time of day.
Marla and I actually discussed before we moved here how we should go about expressing to our friends down here NOT TO DROP IN. I guess we didn't get the job done.
Partly my discomfort with drop-in visitors is due to the fact that I'm simply too nice to tell people at the door when they interrupt my work or relaxation. You see, deep down I ADMIRE people who are friendly and hospitable enough to welcome friends into their home. I don't want to be a bad host.
BUT I CAN'T go through life wondering if someone is about to knock on my door. I work at home..both selling Ebay stuff..and writing. I do both in front of a computer with the stereo playing (records I'm checking for skips usually). If you were to peep in the window it might look like I'm doing what MOST people do in front of the computer. Yunno..they play solitaire...jerkoff to smut...or shop for collectables.
With me, it's WORK. I have a very specific schedule for posting Ebay stuff; I only do it during a narrow timeframe of hours. If I miss it one night taking Elvis or Marla somewhere...or going to band practice....that means I have a whole day to make up. As for my writing..without trying to make myself out to be a "sensitive artist" it's a goddamned fact of life that I can't drop what I'm writing to answer the door or talk on the phone without losing my frame of thought. Maybe some bigshot writer's can..Bukowski couldn't deal with interruptions..he wrote about it many times. I just read biographies of Erskine Caldwell and Sinclair Lewis. They both holed up in tiny rooms away from home to write for this very reason.
I'm nowhere near the calibre of any of those guys..but I'm trying to do what I can.
The other factor to take into consideration if you want to understand why I can't handle drop-in visitors is my SLEEP schedule. If a friend or relative knocked on the door and woke me up during one of my periods of dealing with insomnia I'd fucking want to KILL them.
I should also point out that I know damn well I'm a bit of a goddamn paranoid nut. When my well intentioned friends knocked on the door today it wasn't their prescense that freaks me out as much as the fact that their visit reminds me that OTHERS could be knocking without warning. WHO will be knocking next??? Do I dare answer the door from now on??? What if it's the UPS guy with a delivery??
I don't pick up the telephone either. I MONITOR our answering machine...SOMETIMES. I often ignore incoming messages. We deliberately can't hear it from our bedroom. If a relative has passed away and they need to tell me, lemme know after a full night of sleep, OK?? I get PISSED when friends who should know better jabber little cracks into the answering machine such as "I know you're there! pick it up" accusing me of turning my nose up at their call. For all the reasons above I simply am not available to come to the fucking phone 24 hours per day.
To my friends in timezones everywhere...REMEMBER!!!!! I'm not sitting around here playing skittle-dick with excess time on my hands. I have a backlog of things that need to get done. Marla and I went through a period many years ago when we had nothing but time on our hands. I know what that's like, but that was THEN...we're goddamned BUSY people now. So, leave a message stating YOUR BASIC REASON for calling and we'll try to get back to you when it's convenient for us.
One more thing!! If you're shitfaced drunk I might but probably won't pick up the phone. I used to enjoy those longdistance drunk yakk's but a couple people burnt me out on 'em by getting too obnoxius and repetitive. SORRY.
Damn...I woke up an hour ago after nine hours of sleep with my head never-the-fucking-less pounding. Last night was an average/below average night of drinking..so why does my head pound this fucking way???
I ate a can of chef-boy-ardee lasagne..it didn't help much. I took a dose of my prescription medicine (liquid ibuprofin) which didn't help a bit.
Like I just told Marla....even though I didn't drink all that much and don't deserve a hangover..fact is there's only TWO cures available here..one being a projectile blasted into my head from the nearest handgun..the other being a frosty bottle of BUD.
Since I'm writing this whilst taking the cure, you know which I chose.
Besides..Marla still won't (probably wisely) let me keep a gun around here due to my raging incredible HULK like temper.
I used to report to various jobs almost every fucking day of my life with a pounding, stomach churning hangover on usually 3-4 hours of sleep. I got really used to it..eventually if I DIDN'T have a hangover I'd feel antsy and nervous and drum my fingers on the table all the time. One of the keys to ME learning to deal with hangovers is having a receptacle nearby to barf in if need be. I rarely heaved due to a hangover..I can remember puking out the window of my car on the way to an inventory once. Keeping a waste basket or shopping bag within view helped deal with the anxiety side of my hangover. Sort of like the barfbag on an airplane. I NEVER HAVE used one of those..but I go nuts if I don't find one when I take my seat. I probably WOULD puke if I didn't have one handy.
Human beings are revoltingly similar in most respects. Alcohol helps bring out the latent differences within us..buried under all those nasty inhibitions programmed into us. Hangovers are another manifestation that monkey see-monkey do humanoids actually do have individual charachteristics. Just like every snowflake is (alledgedly) different from all the billions upon trillions of other snowflakes we all have different cures and antidotes and recovery procedures for our hangovers. Some folks take aspirin and swear off ever taking another drink. Some people drink SEVEN-UP or eat rolaids or take ALKA-SELTZER (which causes me to puke instantly). And, some of us drink Budweiser for breakfast...or bloody Mary's..or tequila sunrises. MANKIND is perhaps at its BEST by expressing it's individuality in the morning dealing with hangovers. This is a RARE EXAMPLE of conformist humanoids deviating from the "tribe".
If there actually were a god or group of god's..this would surely be a manifestation of their depth as creators.
While I'm on the subject, I'd like to remind rookie and amateur drunks of a few tips that have served me throughout a quarter century plus of drinking every day that I wasn't sink with few exceptions.
1) don't try to be like fucking cowboys you see in old movies who drink whiskey even on a hot day of riding or trudging through the desert straight out of the bottle. Keep a glass of chaser....preferably beer or water...handy to help your body deal with the carcinogens the next morning. NO WONDER you suffer the next morning if you allow your body to be parched like that.
2) Avoid Malt Liquor. Don't give me that "but it's stronger!!!" routine. Drinking isn't a macho contest..and you don't NEED to get drunk any faster than you can with ordinary, healthful corporate beer. Drinking isn't a sprint....it's a way of life..an ART FORM almost. I drink everyday to get elegantly and gradually drunk. Sort of like slowly easing back on a soft bed..rather than being dropped headfirst onto the floor..which is the regular fate for malt liquor drinkers.
I remember a former drinker partner who used to wag his finger at 80 proof Jim Beam as being too weak to do the job compared to his 92 proof Evan Williams. He was FULL OF SHIT. This guy would be running around the room with his pants around his ankles a total fucking wreck just from drinking BEER!! He's one of the last Motherfuckers who needs that extra 12 proof kick.
3) It's TRUE..you WILL get a worse hanger from drinking certain budget brands at the liquor store. This doesn't mean you should become a gourmet snob; stick to medium price brands for best results.
4) NOTHING sets my head to pounding the next morning more than specially AGED whiskeys. Yeah..it tastes really great going down..but I swear it kicks your ass worse the next day.
5) WAKE UP and realize that the mainstream world in this day and age is chock full of amateurs who don't have a clue what to drink. I went to the local grocery store to buy up a few cases of COORS which was on sale for $9.99. To my dismay there wasn't a single case to be found in the store...yet there was STACKS of Coors lights. I complained to the store manager who had 2 employees running around looking for COORS original which was featured in the add along with light. He was embarassed...and apologized. The fact is though, in this college town Coors "light" probably out sells REAL COORS 50 cases to one. Coors has a huge advertising budget..and they push that soap-suds shitty tasting light piss water on college aged kids for a variety of reasons. COORS "regular" advertising is directed towards more mature and seasoned drinkers like myself. Never in my lifetime have I witnessed such a sorry collective societal idiocy when it comes to drinking. "Zima?" gimme a fucking break!
Bottom line...drinking "light" beer isn't going to extend your life or leave you in any better shape; it's only going to taste worse. The incredible mountains of stacks of light beer at every beer retailer across the nation attests to the fact people have been brainwashed into thinking otherwise.
6) "Ice" beer??? a fad. Stick to normal beer and down a shot every now and then. Learn to establish a set of drinking habits that work for YOU. Avoid fad beverages and lean towards drinking the stuff the pro's swear by rather than following the totally childish methods of college frat-boy morons. Your goal should be to figure out what booze will leave you feeling ready when you wake up the next day ready to eagerly drink again..rather than vowing to swear off.
Whiskey is one of the most pleasant, fragrant and enjoyable substances available on the face of this earth. It's always undergoing criticism much like guns, heroin and red meat..but I'd say that's more due ot the weakness of the humanoids who misuse any of them than for any logical reason.
I mean, if a man has been pushed too far by his crappy job and homelife..and that man decides to liberate his family and himself from this putrid earth by blowing the entire clan to hell with a gun..well SHIT!!! It's not the fault of guns..gun manufacturer's or the NRA.
Likewise any heinous actions commited by those under the influence of whiskey or any other of the less beautiful and fragrant distilled treats should be chalked up onto the slate of the individual....NOT the booze.
I don't drink whiskey everyday. I Do drink beer everyday.
There's a big difference between the two. Beer is like a familiar, easy to satisfy lover..with a nice disposition. MORE than willing to oblige and provide pleasure in return. Whiskey is more like a crazy bitch..or a stud with a mean streak. It's understandable if you need to rest up a bit between bouts with it...particularly if you go ALL THE WAY. Just a kiss or two of whiskey can be a significant experience...it's strong stuff. Indulging heavy in it can have very serious consequences.
Beer is more like a familiar roll in the hay..easy to handle.
If you mix the two..like thee Whiskey Rebel does about half the nights of the week...it can lead either to the best of times..or an over-the-top bad scene.
You can REALLY mix things up by calling Sister wine into the fray!!! That can lead to a wild, chaotic night damn quick!! These bitches can turn on you fast if you're lapping it up outta more than one jug. Same goes for you Sister; if you boogie with more than one of these cats you're liable to windup servicing them all at once.
Anyway, if you'd rather pleasure yourself than allow whiskey to lay it on you once in awhile..that's your choice.
Perhaps inspired by conversations with our pal Simon during his visit here for SXSW I've learned to adapt to setting aside email for days at a time whilst remaining guilt free. In the future people who email me can just learn to fucking wait for a response. I love getting email..especially from people other than ebay customers. If I answered it as it comes in everyday I'd never have time to cut a fucking fart away from the iMac.
Whilst alot of folks are chatting away via AOL instant messenger..and others spend hours at a time busting balls on website bulletin boards and parlour's of gossip..I fucking sit here and write diary entries and columns and reviews and chunks of books.
As a result I don't enjoy the comaraderie (sp?) and frivolity (sp?) many do by insulting one another back and forth at lightning speed thanks to the wonders of the information highway.
That's just my fucking way..and my fucking choice.
In the end, people who can work M-F & 8-5 and happily drift off to sleep at 9:00 p.m. after a few hours in front of the tube are probably happier. they've GOT to be. I can't though. If I've learned anything in life I've learned that 95% of the fun I have had and continue to have takes place after the rest of humanity is asleep. Even when I had to get up early to show up at some shit-fuck job I still knew that by getting enough sleep that I'd feel comfortable the next day physically...at the same time I'd feel piss-poor mentally the next day. For years I survived suffering through hangovers on 4 hours of sleep at said fucked-up jobs. For a long time I'd sit up drinking and watching TV or video tapes or hanging out with friends. Nowdays I sit here trying to write one thing or another and watch TV and video tapes less.
The goddamned mysterious brass "Q-Ray" bracelet I got a few weeks ago has helped cure up my arm which the fine doctor's in South Philly only shrugged and looked baffled over. I can go the long haul sitting here again if need be. I'm not totally cured...but I'll hoist one publicly to the Q-ray "kooks" here and now.
After being unable to write longer than an hour or two per day for a damn long time..I'm going to bang out some pages while I can. After polishing off a column and a stack of reviews I'm gonna tackle a 4th book (2 are in the can) which will be opinionated non-fiction. Specifically music history to bridge the gap between Nick Tosches (he's brilliant..but so egghead even I can't understand some of what he writes..me and my 22 chess trophies are helpless for once) and the sort of tripe that amuses people who take "Rolling stone" and "Spin" and "punk planet" seriously.
If I can I'll write the book I want to in 30 days or so. The research is done..I've been working on that end of things for 20 years or so. Of course, setting a standard with a deadline is designed to prod me to work faster. It's a psychological game I play with myself. If I need to take 60 or 90 or 243 days to get it done..well, so be it.
My biggest challenge is to try to steer clear of my SIMS for more than an hour or two per day. Yesterday Elvis reported that his Satan charachter was visited by Marla and I at his home. He attempted to sweet talk Marla and I flew off the handle. Meanwhile my bachelor house of roomies Hitler/Idi Amin/Zodiac killer continue to thrive and climb the ladder in their own professions.
It's the best video/computer game ever......PERIOD.
I'm wavering on watching wrestling tonight this ONE last time....only for the reason that they're doing a "draft" to split the crew between Monday and Thursday. It's possible that Vince will pack a certain night with what I don't want to see (Hogan and his friends)...rendering the other night enjoyable once again.
Over the weekend Elvis and I concocted the ultimate SIMS scheme; we duplicated the floor plan of our apartment and programmed the three of us...to be fair we used the generic "sign" charachteristics for each of us (I've been told I'm a typical Aries). We started it up and ate and shit and watched ourselves for hours. eventually, it got to the point where I'd ask Elvis to take out the trash or something..and he'd say "you mean in the game?"...or he'd ask me what time his Mother worked tomorrow and I'd ckick on a couple icons thinking he meant his SIMS Mother. It's evil as incest what we're doing...and may finish us off for all I know. Maybe we'll see TOO MUCH.
I've been completely without talk radio for almost the entire time we've lived here in Texas. That's very unusual for me. I've ordinarily found time for it no matter where I've lived over the years. Art Bell has been standard listening on my radio overnight for many years as I've written many hundreds of pages and I've always been especially fond of local shows that roast local government and try to stoke listener anger towards odd or scandalous events in the area.
My favorite local talkshow host was/is a guy named Rick Miller who I used to listen to in Portland while working at a classical record distributor warehouse. He was good enough to eventually get promoted to the Sister station in larger Seattle. I hope he's still out there somewhere still. There was a tiny little talk station in Portland called KKEY that had a load of very hokey, amateurish hosts. One was an old lady named Mary Pierce who sounded borderline retarded or senile. She'd so rarely get calls she'd regularly just start reading from a bad gardening book or maybe a childrens storybook. Another guy at KKEY was a gravel voiced Jack Webb type who used to go out of his way to annoy animal rights activists during the "spotted owl" affair in Oregon. He'd read "spotted owl stew" recipes over the air everyday and browbeat anybody who tried to argue with him on the air. He'd give commercials for a steakhouse named "Diamond Jim's" that kept me in stitches when he'd promise:"folks..you needn't worry about hearing any ACID ROCK at Diamond Jim's. The professional and courteous staff has prvoded for a comfortable atmosphere for the whole family...blah blah blah". The joke was that "acid rock" had been out of vogue for a decade and a half or so and this guy was so square he either didn't know that or was using it to bait the hippies he hated.
We drove past "Diamond Jim's" in Vancouver Washington once out of curiosity once. It turned out to be a small place in the corner of a half empty stripmall. I got the impression that it was a doomed relic that had seen better days,
I've bitched about Portland time and time again for many reasons. My main gripe is the way that so many bars, restaurants, stores etc. have been torn down over the years only to be replaced with hippie/hipster/alternative oriented businesses. I used to love drinking coffee out of old stained cups at coffee shops like "Mannings" at the now sickeningly chic Lloyd center. Woolworth's and Newbury's each had a couple huge dimestores for old ladies to buy cheap, stale cookies at. They survive and thrive and serve their crappy but dependable pie and coffee in many parts of the country..but NOT Snoreland boregon. I miss them. We had about 10 Sambo's coffee shops all over town when I grew up. You could loiter there for hours at their counter even if you only purchased a cup of coffee.
I once spent 5 minutes.....FIVE MINUTES at a Starbuck's to get a special coffee for an ailing friend. After 5 minutes, even though I hadn't been served yet I bolted out the door in horror. It was what I consider my version of a hippie-decorated hell. Overly loud people prying into other peoples business and loudly talking about the stupid shit that Boregonians consider so significant..like their basketball team the Portland Trailblazers (I call them the "Failure-blamers").
One by one all the old man bars vanished in Portland and were taken over by either alternative types or yuppie types. If it's taken over by alterno's...you get BAD live music and expensive and trendy microbrew. If it's taken over by yuppies you get bright lights, bad Grateful Dead music and expensive and trendy microbrew.
The last time I was in Portland a bit over a year ago I went to what was the last remaining mostly unsullied old-school bar "the Sandy Hut" with my pal since childhood (the man that introduced me to rockabilly..thus saving me from a life of Beatlemania) Mike McNally. I had a bit of jet lag..and Mike needed to give me several extra minutes to recognize what was wrong at the "Handy Slut" as we sat there watching alternative fashion trend boobs sit in groups. When I noticed I laughed as if the Trailblazer charter flight had crashed. The trendies were all drinking 16 ounce cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon; not SOME of them..90% of them. We checked....there wasn't a special that night and the bar hadn't run out of other beer. There were several micro-spews on draught to be had for well heeled "sippers" who weren't interested in getting drunk...and a couple corporate beers to as a token nod to the past clientele of the joint.
The alterno's were evidently expressing some contrived sort of "white trash night" mentality that week. Some opinion leader probably visited a psychobilly bar in a big city ("Tatto'd mom's in Philly for instance) and came back spreading the word that wallet chains and PBR were now cool. As they sipped their 3.2% PBR's they'd look around the room from table to table feeling very "unique" and "daring" undoubtedly.
I've got to add that I don't think there's anything wrong with drinking PBR or hitching your bigass wallet to your jeans with a chain. This should be OBVIOUS..but rather than have to spend a half hour emailing some confused people I'll make it clear now.
If you don't understand why McNally and I laughed to be surrounded by fashion oriented hipsters drinking what WE liked to drink as some sort of novelty...well, you might be beyond help yourself. The key word here is "C-O-N-T-R-I-V-E-D".
I like old bars..the older the better. I like to drink around PRO'S who are there to get elegantly drunk at their own pace...rather than trendies there to be "seen" or to try to spot some "celebrity" from a local alternative band that receives rave reviews from the local music-weekly columnist.
I like old cars..(pre 1970 or so) and people who appreciate them.
I fucking LOVE old motels...I could live in one happily. I love big old neon signs..the bigger and louder and more obnoxius and bothersome to the local "town council" yuppies the better. Go listen to Wayne Hancock's "Thunderstorms and neon signs"..he expresses it better than I ever could.
I like old guitars, old style suits (even leisure suits..which I still remember fondly as being comfortable...I came in on the tail end of them when they were cheap) old bric-a-brac, etc.
At the same time, I welcome with open arms the "next big thing" musically for instance...if it happens in my lifetime...great. I want to enjoy it. I'm actually quite sure it's possible that the future holds at some point totally original fashions or vehicles or styles of cocktail lounge decor. Let me see them...I might approve. I haven't given up on "new" things totally....it's just that I haven't seen new fashions or styles I particularly liked in a long time. I applaud new inventions particularly in the field of electronics in my lifetime. Just 20-25 years ago it was impossible to have a huge home library of movies unless you worked for the studios in Hollywood. It was impossible to accumulate thousands of hours of music we take for granted that is available on $12.99 cheap reissue CD'S.
Video games alone almost make up for the lack of fun places to go out to.
And smut???? MY GOD!!! We've come a long way since French postcards or 2 or 3 mainstream centerfold mags at the convenience store..haven't we?? It's the goddamned age of miracles for porn...look no farther than your computer. A pudwacker's dream.
Oh yeah....the home computer. Another great developement. It's changed my life for the better no doubt. That's a whole 'nuther topic for a whole 'nuther day. Bottom line is I welcomed it with open arms. More proof that I am totally acceptable of modern conveniences..even though I'm totally unimpressed so far with turn of the millenia culture.
One last thing...I REALLY used to like drinking out of old style heavy beer bottles..I'll admit that I'm a nostalgic dinosaur when it comes to beer packaging. I'll settle for pouring it out of aluminum limp-wristed cans into one of many thriftstore selected ancient glasses we keep on hand.
Hey, as far as wrestling goes..even though I recommended to Geoff Gavin as recently as a week ago that he end his WWF short term boycott....I contradicted myself by allowing Thursday to pass without even changing the channel to Smackdown. Why?? I'm the guy that's been saying for WEEKS that "Hulk Hogan ruins any promotion he's part of"...it's come to fruitition quicker than even I expected.
Stone Cold Steve Austin according to Wrestling Observor has been entirely pushed out of the picture in favor of managements apparent cheap attemps to revive "hulkamania" when regardless of what you thought of his work in the 80's (I hated it) or the 90's in Wcw (I hated it) he's fucking WAY slower and below the standards of guys who WWF have sent off to get fit and learn how to wrestle their "style".
I'm not the biggest fan of the ROCK..due mostly to the fact that he's been painted into a corner by the horde of non-longterm-wrestling fans who watch wrestling; he HAS to deliver his familar catch phrases and moves and gestures over and over and over. I don't believe it's HIS fault. It's the fault of the moronic masses. Anyway, it's not just ME who is shocked over the way he's been booted down the ladder in favor of giving the big, quick push to the guy with the absolute LEAST ability..the man I predicted would fuck up the promotion....Chump Hogan.
You just watch....
Chumpster will ride high for a few weeks..and the nostalgic knuckleheads who are in such a dither..hoping to rekindle childhood memories by listening to his stale, dopey hogwash..will soon tire of his boring routine and go back to watching Seinfeld reruns or "Malcolm in the goddamned middle" or what have you.
Yeah...I read the "spoilers" posted to Dave Meltzer's site and chose to watch a rerun of Tanya Harding pounding the crap out of Paula Jones. DON'T LAUGH! I bet either one could take on the Chumpster!!
Sorry Geoff. I should've been behind you...chalk it up to temporary insanity.
I suggest that all Whiskey Rebel-Roos out there get together with friends this Monday and Thursday and share some old video tapes of classic footage or action from Japan or Mexico or perhaps a shoot interview.
Let's vote with our On-OFF switches and tell ol' Vince what we think of him trying to con us with yesterdays refuse....the crew that drove WCW down the toilet.
Luckily baseball season is drawing near to substitute for WWF...although many may prefer to trim their grass with scissors or dust under the bed or braid their fucking butthairs than watch the collapse of what was a great show a up to a few weeks ago.
It's only a matter of time before Hacksaw Duggan and Eric Bischoff are given the push to the top too at their buddy Chump's request....wait and see.
By the way, I got some great fitness advice from Simon Stokes I'll pass along to the world. I told him about how I used to drive to a park in South Philly to get what excercise I got..and that I hadn't figured out what park to go to here in San Marcos.
He told THAT was my problem; forget about driving somewhere for excercise....simply walk out your door. Do it everydayfor anywhere from 10 minutes to an hour.
Remember....SIMON SAYS: if you have to drive there it ain't excercise.
Elvis led me on a walk tonight past the hospital emergency room exit (how convenient if I should overdue it in the upcoming 100 degree heat) to a vantage point a quarter mile from our living room with a fantastic view both of the jillions of stars you can't see located in major cities...and several miles in several directions. Just the kind of spot I used to look for when I smoked alot of pot several years ago. Maybe if I keep up this walking shit I'll have to go back to smoking pot (my pot-smoking nickname based on once every six months taking a few hits is "rasta-rebel"). In my glory days we'd smoke until somebody puked..then they had to drink the stinky, black bongwater!! That's what happens when you smoke out with suburban fratboy types.
Our new Rancid Vat front man phoned me up with a lyric he scribbled off; it's a salute to the bloody wicked ways of a hardcore wrestler friend of his. I must say, it was damned good. Five of us are getting together on a night to be determined next week. It hopefully will be the new lineup of Rancid Vat. Marla and I know all the guys..and like 'em all; but none of them have met the others. Will there be personality clashes??? We can't assume every possible problem is ironed out..but we're getting there. FAST.
The first time we ever got together to play music with anybody is an unlikely story. It was BEFORE Rancid Vat, BEFORE the SPAZTICS, BEFORE we met Bud Wilson, Mike Schuppe or Lonnie the guy who wandered around town visiting people 24/7 per day. It was even before we played our first show ever at a party..in a band with a Jimi Hendrix influenced guitar player. He wrote all the songs and told us what to play. I played drums then and Marta played bass. He named the band "Cloud particles".
Yeah....HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAH!!!!!! Isn't that rich?? "Cloud Particles".
Good thing the punch at the party was loaded with everclear. We left "Cloud Particles" after about a week or two or maybe three.
Hey, you have to start somewhere.
Even before then we drove out into the country 10 miles or so past Vancouver Washington to sit in on a "jam session" "drinking session" and a "swap spit with somebody's butt-ugly Wife in the bedroom where the coats have been draped across the bed" session.
You ever been to one of those???? Most of these guys had experience playing what I would describe as Waylon Jennings or Johhny Paycheck style (his more commercial stuff) country music in bars with chickenwire across the front of the stage as depicted in the "Blues Brothers" movie. I set up my drum kit..but I hadn't ever played with anybody but Marla. They were very patient with me even though I must have sucked.
I wasn't into country music at all at the time. Like almost everybody else at the time into punk rock we joked about it frankly. We liked Hank Sr. and Johnny Cash and that was about it. It made it tough to fully appreciate what the other guys were doing. Nowdays I'd take a beating to play with a group of veteran honkytonk players like that.
It's good every year or so to clear your mind of the pre-conceptions and habits we get into and honestly assess your likes and dislikes. SUCH AS: Do I REALLY want to spend holidays with my inlaws for the rest of my life?? or, do I REALLY believe in anarchy?? or, Do I REALLY want to study business at the University and be an accountant for 40 years??? or, Would the "friends" who flock around when I provide free beer still come around if I couldn't afford to provide it for them?? or, am I REALLY in love with my girl/boy friend who wants me to settle down and be more "mature...or am I just in love with his/her dick/cunt/ass/pussie/ or other various orifices or appendages"???
A mere few years after spending an evening playing drums behind the country guys I didn't fully appreciate I got into George Jones and a little Webb Pierce and the Willis Brothers and I was on my way to being a big fan of country music. I had to flick the mental switch that drove me to laugh along with fashionable punk rock types when they jeered at it.
I remember talking to a guy before a show at which Hellstomper was on the bill. He couldn't WAIT to see them before the gig. A few songs into their set he grabbed me by the sleeve and bellowed into my ear that they were just "TOO COUNTRY GODDAMNIT"!!!! for him. His ears and neck were red he was so pissed off. He stormed out waving goodbye.
What a fucking SAP!!! I thought. If it had been Grandpa Jones or Ernest Tubb he probably would have suffered an anuerysm (sp??) But, honestly.,....it's possible I would have said the same damn thing if I had heard Hellstomper (who of course are one of my favorite bands drawing breath) before I had opened my mind.
As P-funk once said...FREE YOUR MIND..and your ASS WILL FOLLOW.
Hey, speaking of R&B I used to lump Curtis Mayfield in with what I considered overly commerical, boring R&B. Now I look back and ask..how could I have been so fucking wrong???
I'm not into techno or reggae or rap..but I tell you what; I have more admiration and respect for a fanatic who owns a mountain of records from any of those genres (or ALL of them) than any of the dim bulbs I know who play the same little pile of 30 records and sneer at all the rest out there. EVEN if it's a stack of C.O.S. records including some of our stuff. Most C.O.S. fans are into all kinds of great shit..don't get me wrong; but a few are fucked in the head and goddamned stubborn when it comes to trying some of the music that INFLUENCES the C.O.S. bands. They are out numbered many times over by the Misfits and Social D. fans of the world who HEAVILY seem to lean towards the mindset that rules out any music that doesn't conform to clearcut guidelines. Of course, while I'm bashing people lets bring it full circle and bash the very people whom I set out to remember fondly..the noble savage country players we jammed with years ago. I bet they're a bunch of stubborn assholes who haven't listened to anything different in 30 years.
My diary buddy the postal worker (I don't think I'm supposed to reveal his name) over at his website ( go check it out..http://postalx.blogspot.com/ ) has worried me a bit by showing signs of being in a rut music appreciation wise..and perhaps needing to visit the Whiskey Rebel's record rack or the record collection of some equally dedicated lifelong vinyl kook to recharge his batteries. Of course, he's a wise man and philosopher just like me..and perhaps he's perceived I'm off on an alcoholic jag or something (I'm working on a fresh half-gallon of Ezra Brooks and a case of Lone Star) so I'll leave off with a final tip..(You'd get a better one from Simon) perhaps my best one of the year:
When you feel really jaded and bored and disgusted with music look BACKWARDS not forwards; BACK to anything recorded in the golden age of the late 20's early 30's....I've known a dozen record dealers who've heard all the modern rock and pop and punk and techno and country there is to hear...and can't enjoy anything else but PURE 20's-30's music anymore. The music of that period be it jug band/vocals/urban r&b or what have you is so relatively honest than the fad oriented music that came later that it has a HEALING power. TRY IT. It seems to be an effective last refuge for music burnouts.
Thanks to those who have tipped me off to Cosmo evidently raking me or us over the coals at the Antiseen websight. You gotta bear in mind though...it doesn't mean shit. We used to all rip into each other weekly at practices for almost 8 years or so. The fact that he posts his jibes at some other bands websites means he's not really pissed off at Marla and I. If he was he'd email US or send somebody to huck a cup of borscht at us.
As I've explained before to Jeff Clayton there's not enough time in the day for me to participate in whatever kind of ballbusting/debate that goes on at Antiseen's sod central. I have to take care of our own business here at our websight on a daily basis. After spending the time I do on this diary every day the last thing I feel like doing is "talking shit" on some other websight. If anybody wants to rip into me seriously they know where to find me. RIGHT HERE. We probably don't do the business that our pal's for 14 years or so from Antiseen do on their sight..but we're getting about 100 hits a day or so. Double six months ago..but not a pimple on the ass of even the crappiest Britney Spears belly button-pic page. It keeps me busy enough though. It's probable we'll add a message board here in the near future so people can publicly talk shit on me in a place where I have to make the time to read it. Until then..ye who have complaints know where to find me.
We met with a man tonight who we've agreed to unite with to take Rancid Vat to the next level...hopefully upward and onward. The add I placed in the Austin Chronicle demanded either a "trained wrestler" or a "big mouth..cynical but funny" who "knows how to work a crowd". Obviously, the idea is to find somebody along the lines of the Cosmic Commander of Wrestling....who as I have commented to many Texan's is IMPOSSIBLE to replace. Still, we can add somebody to the lineup who can be his own self and operate at the level Cosmo always did...or even beyond.
Anyway, we met up with an experienced ring worker and singer...I mean, he's got LOADS of experience. It will all be explained in due time. When we showed him a videotape of our band with Perfect and Cosmo in Portland in 1998 he grinned from start to finish. Since I'm getting "Cosmo's pissed at you" emails I'll specifically point out that he enjoyed what Cosmo did on stage. He comes from the brotherhood of pro wrestling..a world Marla and I are not privy to...but Cosmo and he are. He asked if we wanted an imitation of Cosmo...or what HE COULD DO. Of course, we asked for an imitation of Cosmo. JUST KIDDING!!!!! We expect the fella to be himself..because what he has done in the past is SSooooo fucking good it will mesh with what we do damn well.
We've seen proof..this guy is for fucking real.
We saw video footage of him leading a goddamned stable of sick wrestlers; pic's of him in the ring with guys like Lance Storm. Heard stories about guys ranging from King Kong Bundy to the Bushwackers. He sang for us..spontaneous smutty lyrics until our sides ached. Physically he could wipe the floor with just about any singer from any band ever..with the possible exception of the master..Exotic Adrian Street.
His name is...
AH!! HAHA!!!! It will be revealed when we are damn good and ready. Maybe we'll run a picture along with his name soon..or maybe we'll keep it under wraps until we unleash him at an appropriate live show.
Hey..Elvis and I have been sadistic motherfuckers lately with our SIMS. We created a SIMS concentration camp environment that resulted in 10 urns and a wall to wall spread of garbage and flies. The night before that we sealed a nuclear family of four into their house without food, water, a toilet or any menas of leaving the house. The Mom died first...meanwhile in a disgraceful display of wimpiness the Dad (who is training to be an astronaut) wept doubled over as he pissed his pants. Stay tuned for our "Sims in a 3 foot shallow pool unable to climb out" adventure.
After the record show on Saturday the three of us headed to a motel room we thoughtfully booked in Austin. It was only 6:00 pm...too early to head down to the Empanda club to see our legendary pal Simon Stokes perform.
Why didn't we drive home since it's only 25 miles with a 70 mph fast freeway?? We knew he wasn't going on until 1:00 am. We had NO DESIRE to hang out amongst the huge throngs of "music industry" (yeech) people and "fans" (yeech) creating the biggest pain-in-the-ass parking situation of the year. We knew we had to be up EARLY for the 2nd day of the record show. If you calculate a half hour times four the drive home would cost us a couple hours sleep.
So, we checked into the fabulous RED ROOF INN. While El and I were waiting for Marla to check in we saw a couple guys from a band with one of the most obviously retarded gimmicks ever. They wore really phoney looking 50's teenage juveline delinquent apparell...and bogus biker colors on the backs of their jackets reading "lords of Altamont". They climbed out of a cab looking around in all directions for approval and attention. I chuckled and reminded Elvis what would hapen to those guys if an Angel or a Bandito happened by; it's nothing to joke about or lampoon..unless you're in a hurry to choke on your own cock and balls.
When people ask me (about 5 times per day) where my Harley is I deny ever having touched one (which is the truth) respectfully and unequivocally. I have all the respect in the world for those boys..but I know what happens to people who try to pass themselves off as members of motorcycle clubs.
The mighty lords of Altamont whomever the fuck they are..I had them pegged for yet another Turboneger ripoff...better watch their asses. Of course I'm not putting my ol' Norwegion pals down. They were a mighty, original band. But they've inspired one helluva lot of cheesy bands though who are hoping for quick popularity.
Anyway....we checked into the motel and ordered pizza from Pizza Slut to avoid having to come into contact with humanoids. Elvis and I shared a "meatlovers" pizza. We promptly fell asleep for about 3 hours. We woke up about midnight...a bit late. I immediatley felt the urge to run for the shitpot. I plopped down and shit and shit and shit and fucking shit. I shit so hard i broke out in a cold sweat. I realized I had a gutache...a BAD one. Still, one must be prepared to pay a large price for being privy to the performance of legends..such as Simon. Our plan was to arrive late enough for the 1:00 am show that some parking spaces would have cleared up due to a percentage of folks going home early. We only had to walk about 8 blocks or so...which was just fine with me.
I was prepared to duck into the nearest alley to spew out dookey if the pizza came back again to haunt me. I was suffering gastro-intestinal pain that made me wish for about 5 seconds I was the kind of guy who would be content with mushroom pizza without meat. I must have been delerious from the pain.
The club wasn't used to dealing with two fisted rock and roll drinkers. I literally could not order a beer...the waitress and bartender just looked back and forth at each other all spaced out when I tried to. Marla got me a Dos equis.
Simon and his boys were just ending the first number when we walked in. The crowd wasn't what you'd call huge; for fucks sake it was the last hour of a 10 day live music overdose. But those who were there seemed to have come from all over. One fellow had driven 8 hours to see Simon..a very impressed German was there..some Portlanders, etc. Simon's voice hasn't changed a bit since the 1960's....on that point I think everyone who witnessed the performance agreed. He played songs from his new CD "Honky" backed by a 3 piece handpicked band he brought out from L.A.
We're gonna order up a batch of CD's from his label so as to share it's greatness with deserving listener's. We of course won't just "sell" one to anybody; we will "place" each copy individually in a good home. My favorite songs right now as of 5:29 am central time are "pissin' in the wind" and "amazons and coyotes".
After meeting some of Simon friends and admirers we headed back to our room. I was wide awake..and it was about 2:30 when we got there. I drank like crazy..shots and beers..to get to sleep. We watched a PBS show about a bunch of wacko's who burned some churches without any reason I could fathom down South with the lights off. I STILL couldn't get to sleep again. I wound up passing out about 7:30 am and the alarm went off at 9:00. FUCK.
After the record show we had exactly one hour to escape the jammed parking lot which was loaded with beatle-brained saps loading up unsold mop-top T-shirts and other such finery. We barely made it home in time for Wrestlemania.
I got immediately drunk for about the 4th time in 24 hours when you think about it.
That's ALMOST the entire story of the weekend. The rest has to do with the foul shithouse all the record collector jerks and dealers were pooping in. At one point I tried to enter one of the two center stalls in a grouping of four of them. The toilet seat, tank, etc. were coated with what appeared to be stinky brown spraypaint. I staggered back as if beaned by a fastball. A guy wearing an Elton John baseball jacket came up behind me and walked all the way in before noticing..
"OH SWEET FUCKING JESUS!" He practically vaulted the door coming back out. To no one in particular he declared "I'd rather shit my fucking PANTS than use that!!"
There's only one way to deal with a shitter like that...it requires a string of M-100 firecrackers..or a good solid sledge hammer.
3/18 pt. II
If you go to WRESTLING OBSERVOR .com (sp?!?!?) you can read tons of feedback from wrestling geeks...95% of which is diametrically opposed to my opinions on Wrestlemania. It's INSANE!!!! What a topsy-turvy world to live in thinking Hogan vs. Rock was some sort of "intense" match while shrugging off Flair vs. Undertaker which was a REAL fucking WRESTLING match...and not an overhyped 3 move circle jerk.
All that is in the back of my mind really; foremost is the call I got from a veteran singer/wrestler responding to my Austin Chronicle add in which I demand a trained wrestler OR a skilled loudmouth who can control a crowd.
We got a total of ONE call..which is perfect considering the guy is a veteran wrestler who has worked many different gimmicks in many territories..and is also a veteran singer/sound man/what have you who LOVES the same music as us ranging from the MC5 and Motorhead to the Stooges, Dead Boys, etc.
I think I've talked to this guy for 3 hours on the phone..at first he was concerned our add was a hoax..as we did his phone call; WHY?? Because we're so compatible and good pal's after talking on the phone it seems too easy. How can we be so lucky to wind up with this guy?????
i'm 95% sure he's the man..but we've gotta check each other out and all in person formally. I'm not gonna reveal his identity until the time is right..but I will reveal a few tidbits; he described a match he had with Nord the Barbarian over the telephone to me..if he could face the mighty Nord (as well as King Kong Bundy and a jillion others) and also can sing and work the crowd (I heard his style over the telephone) and write lyrics (he's experienced there too) what more could we ask for.....HHmmm????
On that happy note I'm just gonna sign off...I'm drunk. I DESERVE drunkeness after having to smell so much record collector B.O. at the record show.
Busy as fuck weekend. Lots to reflect on.
Wrestlemania....the record show we've been away at this weekend...Simon Stokes show on Saturday. My shit-attack that hit me after eating pizza at our motel.
A guy actually came up to me at our table the record show and said he enjoys it when I write about my bowell movement exploits..that's all the encouragement I need for a year or so. Thanks pal.
First things first.....wrestling. I think it was entertaining all four hours consistently. A very small "screw-job" factor..to be sure. There's definetly some truth to the thought that pay per views should provide "closure" (I hate that word) to fueds..and we had it last night. Austin whipped Hall as I predicted (they've been practicing it at house shows for 2 weeks) and I predict he'll call out Nash tonite. Hall earned his pay..and sold a stunner at the end so well I laughed out loud. Nah as usual did NOTHING. Are fans of Nash happy simply to see him do a lazy halfassed run-in now and then??? He doesn't seem dangerous or clver or cool or much of anything.
The Flair/Undertaker match was pretty cool. It was essentially Flairs standard moves and match from the 80's. He lost....which just like back in the 80's is OK when he's not defending a strap. The ending with Arn running in and nailing taker and in exchage being opened up on the forehead was a bit puzzling. I'm not sure where they're "going" with this match...but unlike the cub reporters of the internet I can enjoy it for what it is without examining it like a 3-D chess problem.
Chump Hogan was there with his 2 or 3 moves..and not much more. They looked pretty feeble at times. We were happy to see the Rock get up from the tired old leg drop and actually pin Hogan 1-2-3 cleanly. Hogan turned face on the spot and hugged the Rock and the 2 other NWO clowns came out and slapped him around evidently pulling the plug on the terrifying "invasion".
Oddly enough, if Hogan walked away and retired and that was his last match (of course it won't be..they'll have Flair jobbing to him again within 2 months I bet) it would be a nice way for him to leave by passing the torch on to a young stud.
It was amazing..even to the commentators that the 67,000 Canadians in attendance were cheering Hogan/Rock probably 60-40% in that order. That of course was contrary to the weeks of build up to the match. What can I say??? Canadians are independant thinking beer drinking geniuses a lot of the time..but stubborn knuckleheads who seem to merely exist to criticize the U.S. at other times. Try to figure what Canadians are going to do next, eh??? I love them at times when they bellyache about Americans but other times shake my head in disgust. They've got TOPNOTCH beer....but HORRID liquor/beer laws and stores. BOTTOM OF THE FUCKING BARREL. Yet, instead of concentrating on their own problem they have to come down here and bitch that our proud corporate beer isn't "strong" enough...as if everyone should be happy drinking brown syrupy beer that tastes like 2 day old coffee.
WHO KNOWS why they cheered Chumpster. They did..and we chuckled at the embarrasing situation it caused WWF while at the same time questioning the collective IQ of the audience.
The Rock usually wins his matches in a "popeye" comeback style just like Hogan always did. But it was all Hogan could do, obviously. Rocky has wrestled very complex matches in the past....and he could do so again. He uses several times as many moves as Hogan. But it makes business sense to give the people what they want...which is buzzwords and the same old familiar finishing move like the "peoples elbow". I get the impression the Rock would LIKE to keep his matches "new and fresh"..he pays lip service to the idea at least. But thats not what WWF dishes up to us week in week out.
As I figured HHH took the straps from Jericho. It seems to be his reward for coming back after months of having to endure living in Birmingham Alabama (just kidding..I like Alabama) while recovering from his injury. He's not my persoanl favorite....but I'm glad he's back..I RESPECT wrestlers with a few rare exceptions. He deserves respect for coming back..clap clap. Jericho did a great job as a champion in my book. His matches seem fresh and different compared to alot of the guys.
I'm not a big fan of those who sit and pick apart matches like film critics. I just have my opinions. It's all in the name of FUN....right??
I haven't had time to answer the "Beatle" email I've received yet from my last posting. If I had been anywhere but a record convention this weekend I'd possibly be in a generous mood towards the worlds most overated band ever.
Unfortunately, it goes with the territory that the vinyl-anal assholes at the convention are so obsessed with the Beatles that by the end of a weekend of it I'm ready to PUKE!! The typical dealer is a 54 year old with a bankers grey hair-do and mustache wearing a Beatle T-shirt under a Paul McCartneyish sport jacket. Some of them are nice guys and all..and I feel a little like a heel for bashing them for simply being obsessed with all that dated Liverpudlian crap; but CHRIST!!!! Can't they wear a Stones T-shirt or a Hermans Hermits T-shirt or a fucking Hawaiian shirt once in a while?? BEATLESBEATLESBEATLESBEATLES. They have the same lack of awareness that leads practitioners of other hobbies such as Trekkies to all feel that whatever their hobby is..is IMPORTANT to the world..which of course it's not.
I experienced that when I competed in chess tournaments....the players all acted as though a guy with an experts rating was somehow a more significant being than a scrub. Likewise there's a pecking order amongst record dealers and collectors that leaves me shaking my head. Some of them wear shirts that read on the back "I buy records" to advertise their hobbie to folks who see them strutting down the street.
RECORDS don't matter. Well, not THAT much. In places where people can't find records they get together to share what they have. I got a letter in the early 80's from a guy living in a commie Eastern European country. He told me that friends and he would meet in a damn basement and treasure one anothers record finds because they were so scarce.
Compare that to the glut of over-priced piles..HELL...MOUNTAINS of Beatle re-issue CD's from every country and DVD's and $35 T-shirts at the record fair.
The WFMU record show in NYC is a much more versatile record show with a much less noticable "oldies" faction. The people you see there are much better adjusted to the basic insignificane of their personal obsessions with a genre or sub-genre of music. It made me sick to hear a little self-worship ceremony held on Sunday acknowledging the Austin show as being the "only decent record show in the country". All the Beatle dealers stood and applauded in collective self-ignorance and importance like a bunch of Babbit's at a convention.
It's like the holy reverence that Hank from "King of the hill" holds for propane. If he held another job he wouldn't of course give a flying shit about it. You're living in la-la land if you think the world at large even notices your little poetry group, or your bands recent demo or "record release party", or the greatness of one Belgian micro-brew or another or even how much tit and ass Britney is showing off on tour this year. Some of these cultural obsessions are better known and more widely enjoyed than others, sure. But basically the world is more concerned with getting laid, sitting in their easy chair watching the boobtube while stuffing their face with fatty foods.
Don't get me wrong; if you have a hobbie obsession that pleases you...BY ALL MEANS ENJOY IT while you can. But file it away in the back of your mind that there's a big world out there with other things to do that might be even more fun.
For some reason I'm reminded as I sit here of a guy I met who was totally obsessed with the Misfits. Misfit's T-shirts....bootleg records...blah blah blah...you've met the type. A lot of guys like this eventually scrap their collection and get into something VERY different. GOOD!! I remember a kid who was similarly obsessed with C.O.S. band stuff. He'd call me on the telephone at weird hours to gloat about finding a test pressing by Antiseen or a video tape of us or another C.O.S. band playing in some place or other. When he went off to college he dropped it in a heartbeat and got into techno. I wasn't heart broken. He was probably better off in the long run. If he had heard a lot of music and THEN turned to the C.O.S. for the right reasons it would be another matter....but he hadn't heard anything else. What do you want to bet when he grows up he goes to a record convention to try to buy the C.O.S. stuff back??? HHmm?? I give it a 1 in 8 shot.
Once again as Elvis pointed out..we were reminded that record buyers/dealers collectively have poor bathing habits. The room smelled like pizza with a cup or two of B.O. drippings on it.
I've barely even started on the topics I want to cover..but it's time to get to work packing orders. Maybe later.
I've received a few suggestions that I've been a bit hard on the Beatles;
After spending a day at the largest record convention in the US...I guess I have to admit that..I WAS TOO SOFT on the cuddley mophaired sweeties..
I MEAN IT.,.....and I'm not merely trying to stir the shit.
FUCK BEATLEMANIA and everthing it ever stood for. Beatlemania= Hulkamania as far as I'm concerned. If you stand up for one you stand up for the other.
Most of you bitching and bellyaching never had to live in a world that was totally obsessed with the subpar, thirdrate crap that the Beatles ordinarily spewed out. I've already pointed out a good number of songs that the only Beatle member worth a fuck churned out; what more do you expect??? Can anyone seriously contend that the Beatles left a greater song legacy than the mighty Harlan Howard?? To name just one Nashville legend; and in the Beatles prime Nashville was loaded with great song writers their imbecile fans never knew about. If the Beatles were remarkable songwriters it was because they oozed up from a sewer loaded with floating scum that couldn't write a song to save their fucking lives.
But they weren't..or else they could have continued on after they broke up as a band..and they couldn't continue. They were SCREWED for all time as solo artists. The jig was finally up.
Truely "great" artists or song writer hacks or painters or blowjob queens don't lose it just because their pals aren't around to stifle their crappier ideas.
FUCK BEATLEMANIA and HULKAMANIA which are two expressions of the same emotion. If you stand up for one you stand up for the other.
SELL your fucking crappy, overplayed Beatle records or CD's and get something creative. ANY C.O.S. sanctioned release is far and away better than any gutless wimp Beatles release. Any damn one of them is 75% disposable love songs...YECK!!
By special request..a few words about the goddamned Beatles. I've made my position know on the "Fab four" in a piece I sent off a while back to Germany's great "Southern Fried". It details my worship of the Beatles as a naive teenager..and describes how I was "saved" from all that by a couple friends playing Gene Vincent for me.
I suggest anybody who didn't read that contact Andi from BORN BAVARIAN and beg him to sell you a copy (I might have a few now that I think of it).
Rather than repeat myself I have a new analogy about what is right and wrong about those cuddly moptops. First off, lets bear in mind..a cheeseburger isn't a steak or vice versa. A taco isn't a bowl of hot and sour soup. The Beatles were a TOP 40 POP band from the get-go, which means that you should expect that their stuff just naturally wasn't MEANT to be as "heavy" or "kickass" as louder...angrier groups who weren't likely to sell anywhere near as many damn records.
The ROLLING STONES where DESIGNED (the band's even discussed it according to the recent Stones biography) to be "badboys" or "heels" as opposed to the cleancut "face" Beatles. Still...the Stones commited quite a few tearjerker yawner ballads..and the Beatles managed a few badass songs.
How many of you are David Allen Coe fans?? When Jeff Clayton introduced his songs to me about a decade and a few years ago he hastily pointed out that D.A.C. wrote TWO kinds of songs; 1) soft pop songs to put food on the table for his family that people like I don't like..and 2) COOL songs that are either too smutty or too hick or graphic for radio. Yeah, he hit middleground on a couple tunes (Waylon Willie and me for instance) but mostly you can tell which target he was trying to hit be it race songs, love ballads or redneck anthems. His songs have come out the way they did because he's a great songwriter and knows how to shape a song to fit a part of his audience.
The Beatles were good at that too.
Before they became faqmous John Lennon was an angry, hard drinking S.O.B. who'd wear a toilet seat around his neck onstage for laughs; I remember a story about him cracking a guy from another group over the head with a heavy beer pitcher just for the fun of it. But the same guy just like D.A.C. was able to supress his violent and wild and angry side long enough to look and sound as sweet as his goody-goody little song writing "partner" Paul McCartney who was and is a wimp at heart. Think of all those LOVE songs at the beginning of the Beatles recording career.
Now think of a pissed off Lennon a few years along sneaking in dastardly but still "clean" enough songs like "Baby's in Black" or "I'm a loser".
Of course Lennon was chastised by the masses and the press when he declared the Beatles were "bigger than Jesus"..after that was patched over he sneaked anti-religion references into songs anyway..but he used words that went over teenagers heads:
(from "Girl") "Was she told when she was young that pain would lead to pleasure" "did she understand it when they said that a man must break his back to earn his day of leisure...Will she still believe it when he's dead" ..
Subtle..but definetly against the familiar "pain/pleasure" promise of the church.
"Tomorrow never knows".."She said" (I know what it's like to be dead)..even the "quiet Beatle" George managed to write a decent song during this mid 60's Beatle phase.
At some point in the late 60's the Beatles had stayed on top long enough that they didn't need to smile all the time anymore; or was it that they needed to appear more "mature" and serious for their core audience which had aged a few years just like they had? By this point the Beatles had so much competition that made their early music seem soft and antiquated that their best commercial shot was to make the music heavier and less stiff. The matching suits were long gone by the time the WHITE album came out. Unlike most of their albums, there are a few songs on that one that even sound good to me today thanks to Lennon: "Yer blues" I'm so tired" and the great "happiness is a warm gun". George wrote his 2nd song that I can stomach "Piggies" for this double LP.
The end of the band came soon after a final volley of decent songs: "Come together" "She's so heavy" (you gotta love the ending to that one) and finally a decent Paul McCartney song: "Oh Darling"...oh, I almost forgot the creepy "Maxwells silver hammer".
I missed a few keepers along the way..but what the hell.
The Stones recorded about a hundred songs during the same years that I'd classify as good..a couple dozen of them even GREAT.
After the Beatles broke up we saw their true individual colors. Ringo...an amiable bloke you'd probably have fun downing a pint with. As for Paul McCartney..along with some syrup coated albums (including such classics as the wimpy disco beat tune "silly love songs" which sums up the bulk of his catalog) he inspired and begat Billy Joel and others of that sport jacket/nice sweater soft-rocking ilk.
As for George Harrison..he was widely praised at the time of his death for dragging "spiritualism" into rock music. WHAT??? I think he should have been lampooned, tarred and double feathered for dragging all that goofy eastern mumbo jumbo crap into the mainstream of rock.
That's one of the facets of the Beatles that was BAD...S-T-I-N-K-O!!! Nowdays though you can pick up a copy of "Mojo" from the U.K. and it's plain to see that alot of the goddamned Brit-pop boars pay lip service to Asian style religious idiocy.
John Lennon wins the award for the best post-Beatles solo album "Plastic Ono band" which he recorded while under the sway of a trendy "primal" therapy that drove him to screech and scream and wail during many songs. "God is a concept by which we measure our pain" is perhaps wordy..but it rings as true as any anti-religion number up to and including "religion" by early P.I.L. I consider this album to be 10 years or so ahead of its time thanks to the screeching and caterwalling and distorted guitars. The production of the album is uniquely primitive and stomping amongst Beatles issued albums. Even drummer Ringo sounds like he's smashing the fucking hell out of his kit at times.
He recorded a few more good songs..but it was downhill from there. He got sucked into all kinds of nutty "causes" that he'd lose interest in after a while. Could anybody argue that his last album was any better or worse than Billy Joel himself??
I was the biggest Beatles you ever saw for a few years. Remember though, I had never heard anything but top 40 radio. In our remote Oregon subdivision the Seeds, Captain Beefheart, Link Wray, Pink Floyd (the early REAL P.F. I mean with Syd Barrett) the MC5, the Stooges, the Velvet Underground...NONE of it existed as far as I knew.
The Beatles to me were like a hamburger I ate BEFORE I tasted steak.
OK. I'm done dwelling on the positive side of the Beatles.
Here's the REST of the story.
As my friend Mike McNally says (who exposed the Beatles as frauds to me by playing authentic rockabilly for me for the first time) THE BEATLES RUINED EVERYTHING. Shortly after they took over songs on the radio became disgustingly "meaningful"....YUCK. Gimme the SONIC'S!!!! NOT "Abraham Martin & John" by a Beatalized Dion! Gimme JERRY LEE LEWIS and his unpredictable orneryness..NOT the cute, always smiling, matched suit (the Stones ditched theirs way earlier) moptops. Because of the BEATLES we had "Herman's Hermits" and "Gerry and the Pacemakers". To THIS DAY the Beatles virus of cleancut dreck continues to spread and clog up formerly listenable "oldies" radio stations. In the mid 70's oldies radio played raunchy old Joe Turner R&B and obscure doowop..novelty songs and even my fellow Oregon-expatriot Johnny Ray once in a while. Nowdays, on oldies radio stations in any city in the land it's either Motown 3 songs out of 5 (in cities with large black populations) or "mersey beat" Beatle-ish crap 3 songs out of 5 (in towns without a large black population.
Whatever happened to the WAILERS and all the great Northwest primitive rock acts?? Whatever happened to all the Sun records recording artists???
Just like decent wrestlers like Magnificent Muraco and Dr. D. David Schultz were swept aside by "Hulkamania" in the mid 80's, rockabilly and rock and roll singers were all brushed aside by "Beatlemania".
Sun label great Billy Lee Riley became so desperate a mere few years after recording "flying saucers rock and roll" he cut a Harmonica album of Beatles songs...I've got it..it SUCKS. Yeah Mike, the BEATLES RUINED EVERYTHING.
Goodbye straightleg pants and simple mindless frat-rock..here come the smurf-like Beatles.
Imagine what could have happened if it had been the SONICS who took over??? Imagine the Frantics being their bad-boy counterparts. Our boys would've been called back from Viet Nam 5 years sooner if kids everywhere were singing along with the FUGS "Kill for Peace" and "Dirty Old Man" on the radio.....am I right????
Am I right????? FUCK Beatlemania and everything it stood for. On one of my birthdays long ago when Marla and I were broke..I asked her as a special birthday favor to sell all the Beatles albums in the house and buy me booze with the money. What a happy party that was!!!!
I posed the question why in the hell a handful of people are having an impossible time trying to load this diary. Marla broke it down into tiny chunks 10 days or so ago...what the hells going on??
Geoff Gavin has spotted a pattern tracing the problem to AOL sufferers. It's too early to say that ALL AOL'ers can't load this..but the pattern is well established with people he knows.
Marla suggested that this page is (get ready for this...) being CENSORED for the "benefit" of AOL losers...er, I mean users.
I certainly HOPE it's being "avoided" (censored) because of the "swear words" I use; if AOL isn't allowing it's customers to personally decide to load this diary because it doesn't involve an AOL sponsored service..then I'd say it's time for some AOL losers..OOPPS! I mean, USERS to complain to the great moronic-monopoly-monolith of the internet.
Watching AOL commercials on TVis enough to personally turn me off. They depict their customers as moron's who are delighted that even someone as dumb as them can operate a computer thanks to the friendly folks at AOL. The actors they use to represent all you AOL customers are ugly, gaptoothed, cheaply dressed slobs. They grunt illiterate phrases like "customer service is GREAT!!" and make the point that AOL is one big happy community.
The one service I perceived as being worthwhile from them is "instant messenger". I was allowed to join even though we've never used AOL. It's free to anybody. It was great for about 2 weeks....I yakked with all the people I WANTED to communicate with like Sikko in Germany, Jeff Clayton Geoff Gavin, etc. ....but pretty soon I couldn't spend 5 minutes on it without one of the handful of pest's I attract constantly interrupting. I don't mean normal people like those who email me..I LOVE EMAIL. I fucking love a fifth of booze in a plastic "traveller" bottle shipped to me once in awhile too. I love yakking with people at record shows, clubs, cakewalks and what have you. I have too small a following for what I do to take it for granted...so I'm never rude to people who contact me. But AOL instant messenger is different..it works for a lot of people..but not me. I fucking hate chatrooms and message boards too. The one-liner oriented dialogue is predicatable, repetitive and a total fucking waste of energy. I'm a busy man..I don't have time to goof off trying to rib some total fucking stranger in Kalamazoo Michigan. About once a year Elvis and I will penetrate a 12 stepper chatroom or a Christian chatroom for some fun..but that's a rare happening around here.
I'm getting off the subject.
I know people whom instant messenger provides hours of daily fun for..and to them I say GREAT. It's not for us though. Their softwhere looks like such dumbed-down crap!! But if it works for you..fine..I'm not saying you're any dumber than me..a guy who has a plastic pig..a ceramic turtle and a wooden duckie on moniter computer top. I even talk to 'em sometimes...so, I'm not intending to be a snob. I hate the technical side of computers.
I'd like to hear from anybody who has input into whether or not AOL prevents "obscene" webpages from loading for some folks.
I've noticed YAHOO now answers every search with the same sales-oriented "hits"; if you search "badbreath" the first hits are "find "badbreath" music/cd's at blah blah blah..and "find badbreath dvd's at blah blah blah.." You used to see 30 or 40 hits along with the DVD adds....now the number of hits is way the hell down it seems for almost any search. I searched "Bobby Fischer" to try to get a line on his recent insanity and was directed to where I could buy Bobby Fischer books and one home page...PERIOD. If you check elsewhere you can find hundreds and hundreds of hits for ol' Bobby.
Well, enough complaining for now. I don't dare even start in on tonights "RAW"..it was fucking awful. Maybe tomorrow...
It's strange..a small number of people say they can't download this diary all of a sudden; but I'm getting lots of email everyday from people that are reading it all the time. I'd love to get an email from somebody explaining that.
I got a suggestion from one former bass player for Rancid Vat (Emilio) that ANOTHER bass player who blew his brains out has come back as my little shit-bird.
Oddly enough, little shit-bird has vanished suddenly.
We saw Wayne Hancock play two sets at the Continental club on Saturday night. Dale Watson cancelled out. There's a little bit more to the story according to gossip we picked up at the club. Marla and I have been playing clubs for over 20 years of course and we know the fucking score. I think it would be shitty of me to turn this diary into a gossip fest, so I'm steering clear of going into the matter further.
Wayne looked a little tired and a bit perturbed back stage..but he was polite to every fan I saw approach him to have pictures taken or just thank him. It's hard for a musician to be nice under adverse conditions.
Since he knew he was playing literally all night he was obviously (to me and Marla and perhaps other performers in the room) pacing the sets to both get a pop at the end of the first set....and keep people in the club until the end of the night. He called out songs one at a time to his 2 piece backup band. At one point I saw him gesticulating excitedly to them with a song idea. The song he chose completely filled the dance floor.
We talked to his guitar player Chris (I think that's his name) about their upcoming trip to Australia. My old pal Neil down there clued me to the fact they were expecting Wayne and Steve Earle and some other greats. I hope they bar-B-Q- up a couple bigass marsupials for Wayne and his boys.
Got a call from Simon Stokes today..which is always a pleasure of course..even better than eating marsupial flesh. He's playing at SXSW on 3/16 at 1:00 a.m. at a club called Empanda's on 6th street in the heart of all the club idiocy.
We can't wait to get together with him to yak. I was happy to hear he enjoyed HAMMERLOCKS version of "the Devil Just called my name" I got to help sing on.
Simon's one of the few people I know on the planet I look up to enough to ask his advice.
I suggest anybody within a 500 mile radius get their damn ass to that club. It's not just gonna be a show....it's SIMON STOKES.
3/8 pt. II
There's a goddamned bird that sits in a tree outside our bedroom window shrieking from about 3:00 a.m. on. The little fucking prick has been at it for about two weeks. Ordinarily the sweet sound of chirping birdies is a pleasant sound to drift off to sleep to. This son-of-a-bitching shit-bird doesn't chirp though..he howls and chortles a bizarre mix of snorts, honks and pisswhistles as if he's intentionally trying to fuck with me.
And, he's LOUD. REALLY loud. Impossible to ignore. Several times I've checked our bedroom window to see if we accidently left it open.
A few nights ago the damn thing had me fighting with my Wife.
"Wake up! wake UP!" I rousted her at 6:00 a.m....
"WHAT!?!?!?" she growled..pissed off.
"Do you hear that bird?? that fucking thing's driving me NUTS!!!"
"yeah..you're nuts alright. You WOKE me at 6 o'clock to tell me THAT?"
she was furious. And it was clear she didn't give a damn about the shit-bird.
I went back out into the livingroom and listened to the racket the shit-bird was causing.
A brief pause..then the fucking thing invented an entirely different sound..
At times it seemed like the little fucker was LAUGHING at thee Whiskey Rebel...
"SwEEEEEEEEEEEEEE Swee Swee swee"
"SweeeeeeeEEEEEE sweee sweee sweeee"
I don't believe in re-incarnation. But, this shit-bird could make me change my tune. He's perched on the nearest limb to OUR apartment..out of 330 fucking units. Perhaps he's one of my enemies whose death I laughed over come back to haunt me in the wee hours when I'm trying to get to sleep. Lately I've had to drink 3 extra beers, knock back an extra doubleshot of whiskey and then wrap a thick pillow around my head like Elmer Fudd to get my "West and welaxation".
I don't have much use for people who torture animals..unless they're being kept awake night after night by the fucking thing. Some neighbors back in Philly left a dog locked in a tiny 5 X 10 foot backporch trashcan area EVERY damn weekday from 9-6 while they were at work. The goodamned thing NEVER..I mean N-E-V-E-R stopped barking. Marla often had to try to sleep at that time of day due to her work schedule..and it drove her to the point she was ALMOST ready to feed a poison laced steak to the damn thing.
We both know that it's really the OWNERS who should be fed the deadly meal...I mean, the dog didn't chain itself in a tiny confined area like that. Still, when the fucking thing was depriving her of her neccessary hours of sleep she was close to snapping.
THAT'S what my little shit-bird is doing to me. Only in this case..I suspect that some power within or beyond the physical entity of that innocent looking bird is behind this.
Last night we got back home from Austin at about 3:00 a.m....and his shrieking and screeching could be heard loud as hell all over the parking lot.
"SEE!!!!! SEE what I mean about that bird!!!" I cried..pointing out a tree that his caterwalling appeared to be coming from..
"All I know is I don't want you waking me up again at 6:00 O'CLOCK!!" Marla snapped..
I mumbled curses under my breath towards the damn thing...getting her pissed off at me again.
Today I checked out the trees by light of day..and saw no sign of the damned thing. Where does it go by day?? When does IT sleep?? Can I figure out where it sleeps and keep it awake??
I've gotta figure out how to get rid of the pest. Maybe I'll just slip Elvis $10 and send him out in the middle of the night with his wrist rocket to shut the fucker up.
The darling widdle birdie probably couldn't eat a poisoned steak...how about birdseed dipped in strychnine?? Or perhaps an H.I.V. positive worm??
A classic case of life imitating cartoons...hhmm??
The OFFENDERS are an Austin punk band that started up in the early 80's..saw their heyday in the mid 80's and had a big comeback show here tonight in Austin Texas.
It was a great show..there were a few rough edges considering the circumstances, but less than you would expect. It was good enough that I stood there wondering why in the hell so many bands break up before they turn 30???
It was my privelege to meet J.J. the guitar player who is actively involved in civil war re-enactments. I'm a BIG civil war buff of course..but I'm a pathetic newbie compared to him. I hope we get together again so we can compare notes. Amongst his impressive tour of battlefields he's never been to Gettysburg or Chattanooga so I guess I have something to contribute to a big ol' WAR yak fest.
We made many contacts tonight..which is only the 2nd time we've been to Emo's since moving to Texas. It's going to be easy to staff our bands down here..that's for sure. By the end of the record show weekend (16th-17th) we'll probably have things mostly in place. There's lots of places to play and people to upset.
Yunno, they could bury me here in Texas and if I were capable of passing judgement I'd say HELL YEAH. I always dreaded the thought of being buried in Snoreland (Portland) or even Philly. If I get hit by a bus tomorrow...please bury me in Texas. Toss a couple beers into the casket like they did for Dick Murdoch. Bury me in my Whiskey Rebel vest unless Elvis wants it for some reason.
Hopefully I have a few years to go still.
Drinking all this good LONESTAR beer makes me feel like I could live to be 110.
I ran into a friend of my pal Chuck Meehan at the club tonight..and I'm gonna give him his email address which he's been searching high and low for on the net. I hope that's OK with Chuck..and the guy isn't actually a dickhead skip tracer or somebody who wants to pester him. The guy claims to be a topnotch T-shirt guy..we'll see. We NEED some damn T-shirts in the worst way.
I finally met Justin the singer from BUZZCRUSHER..damn! he looks like he could give Kevin from Limecell a decent wrestling match.
I'm gonna go wrestle with a 12 pack of Miller Highlife beer...
Tomorrow night....Dale Watson/Wayne Hancock or the Dictators?
Whom will we choose to entertain us....Hhmmm??
Nwo my fucking ASS!!
Smackdown tonight was just the latest proof of their collective pathetic, overblown abilities. Since their debut....Nash has done nothing.....NOTHING. Maybe that makes him a savvy guy..getting paid to do nothing; but it makes him ZILCH in the wrestling department. Chumpster at one point tonight grabbed the Rock outside the ring..and lightly half-struck him..and then layed him gently back into the ring. He's supposed to be the greatest superstar of all time (HAH!) and he can't even make it look like he's tossing a guy between the ropes cruely & wrecklessly. He rolled the rock like you might push a shopping cart or pitch a wiffle ball in your backyard to your 4 year old.
Scott Hall has had to do ALL the "work" for the three of them (yeah, yeah..I heard chumpster worked a couple house show warmup matches..big deal) probably because he has the less clout as a guy with a "substance abuse" background.
Nash is the epitome of worthlessness as a wrestler. He's done NOTHING..and NOTHING seems to be in the works for him.
On the other hand, Ric Flair's work was great..topnotch and worth tuning in the show by itself for. Angle, Jericho, Austin, HHH, Regal and of course the big cheese Mr. McMahon all looked great...as usual.
The Nwo isn't really any better or worse than I expected..they're EXACTLY what I expected.
We got digital cable service today. It's of course fucking great. We just watched 20 minutes or so of an obscure REAL MAN'S sport..Rugby. It was a reminder of how pathetic soccer is. Earlier today I watched a bit of what must be the Mexican equivalent of "Springer" or "Rikki Lake" or "Montel". A guy got his face raked open by long fingernails!! COOL!. Of course I couldn't understand a word they were saying..but you really don't need to. The dialogue is totally not neccessary for shows like that.
We've watched a fair bit of Mexican wrestling over the years. It's got it's strong points, but I always consider it a bad sign when I meet anglo's like myself who prefer it to American wrestling. When said Anglo's claim to HATE American wrestling but are huge Lucha fans I know somethings wrong with their damn brain. It usually means they have an anti-American agenda that they allow to extend to even their leisure time.
We found out today that Simon Stokes (thanks Chuck...Leslie, Larry) will be appearing at 1:00 am on the final Saturday of the South by Southwest music "conference" (Oooh..I hate that word when applied to music). It'll be great to see him. We'll have to rent a motel room (if we can find one) since I have to be at the record show from early in the morning to early evening the day of the show and the day after. It's worth it for Simon.
This weekends musical menu has us at Emo's tomorrow night for the Offenders..and Saturday for Dale Watson & Wayne Hancock. It'll take a mighty act Sunday night to stir us from our apartment 27 miles from Austin.
Marla and I married at a rather young age in 1977. Both of us were still psychologically in the grip of "respectable" parents to an extent....probably her a bit more than me. I had it out in a would-be fistfight with my old man when I was 15. After that we got along pretty good. Marla's parents were hard for me to get along with. Her Mother was an unrepentant conformist who questioned everything we did..even insignificant shit like what I ate for breakfast. Her old man was a fivestar son-of-a-bitch. It was more my style back then (I was a saleman) to try to manipulate guys like him by talking things out. In retrospect it would've been better if we went fist city early on. He attempted to guide and control every major move we made in our lives, his other kids lives, his Brothers life, his Mother and Fathers lives, his inlaws lives, friends lives, etc, etc. Eventually he pushed me too hard after 7 years of my leading a double life so as not to offend him. I haven't been back since.
I would go back now to visit him..I would've gone back a few years ago for that matter..but Marla knows I'd go back as myself: unedited.
Almost everybody I know who is married or wedged in a long term relationship has problems with at least one set of relatives. I really enjoy talking and visiting with people about their inlaw problems. I'm not sure why. It's a subject I enjoy quite a bit.
I feel pretty good about the way that I've handled things over theyears with both my nutty inlaws AND my Mothers relatives who are worse several times over.
Sometimes I'm a bit amazed that I had the balls back then to deal with them all. Right after we got married we were dangerously gravitating towards being "young Republican" types. We would get dressed up..me in a tie and jacket..and Marla in a dress.. to go to dinner at some fancy place that all the old Babbit's would bring their families to.
Yeah, yeah. It's hard to believe I'm sure to people who know us now.
We tried our level best to find happiness living like normal squares.
It didn't work out for us though. We felt so inhibited. Besides, all the older "normal" role models we were in contact with (like our parents) fought like cats and dogs with each other and seemed overall unhappy.
We tried though. I still smoked pot and listened to rock and roll...when "mature" people we didn't need to worry about disturbing weren't around of course. We gave it our all though.
Just like when I was a kid and the preacher said we should talk to god through prayer. I tried it..sincerely. But nobody answered. I gave it a chance...before heading off in the opposite direction.
The "ME" who I know and love now is a very different fellow from the 8 year old kid kneeling solemnly in prayer..and the young married guy who impressed the businessmen he came into contact with rather than make them cringe or shake their heads in disgust. The "ME" who shopped at Nordstroms for gifts for his new Wife.
The "ME" who I became broke his Mother's heart and scared off almost all of his "friends". LITERALLY. I mean, they'd be at our house visiting one day..and I'd slap on a "weird" "immature" record and that would be the last we'd see of 'em.
It was worth it though. Perhaps I never even had a choice in the matter. I could've struggled several more years trying to be a budding young Captain of industry...only to fail. I'm glad we decided to let our hair down and quit worrying about being sensible white-collar people.
It took a bit of doing though. We'd go out to see bands play and the people at the concert hall or club would seem intimidating and...shit..I feel like a pussy saying it..they seemed a bit SCARY. Yes my children..I'm the King of cool now..but it wasn't always that way. We had to go through a phase of learning that the people who hung out at clubs..the people who played in bands..the people who were "cool" were slimy scumbags who were less fun to be around than my Aunt Fern and Uncle Ed on lutefisk night.
That's sort of the beginning of another story for another time.
I guess what I really want to do is give hope to awkward squares out there who see their lives descending into a bottomless pit of bullshit white collar conformity. You HAVE a spine...now USE IT.
I also want to declare I'm about to bang back a double shot of BEAM to the "ME" whom I nowdays only faintly resemble who had the balls to never give in entirely to the upwardly-mobile trap. If that guy hadn't had the balls to question it all...I'd be stuck inside his body selling aluminum siding or mobile homes.
I've been driving past it ever since we got here to San Marcos a couple months ago; a little free-standing bar on the edge of town that looks like it could've been a "roadhouse" many years ago. It's called "Jack's roadhouse" and a sign is prominently displayed out front "just a beer joint".
Marla and I finally got around to trying the place out last night. They aren't kidding when they say they just serve beer. There's no hard liquor at all !?!?!? They only serve beer in bottles..nothing on tap.
A very mixed crowd of people..a couple students..but not TOO MANY. My guess is that this is one of the local places people go to escape college age people who constitute about 2/3rd's of the population here. A few guys who look like bikers..no colors on display. A few businessmen. A Mexican couple playing shuffleboard and a couple black guys drinking with overweight white guys who kneejerk liberals would probably incorrectly (once again) assume are "racist" because they are white, bearded and overweight.
The jukebox was loaded..I MEAN LOADED with country CD's ranging from Bob Wills to Merle Haggard to Hank Jr. and Sr. both. It played really loud and was hooked up to Bose speakers.
We live on the edge of town and I need a bar I can walk home from on those sort of occasions I need to get away from home to a damn bar. I'm too cowardly to drink and drive...and it's POINTLESS going out having to stay sober. I'll be going back for sure....they have $1 Coors and Buds on Mondays and during happy hours everyday.
There's a sleezy looking bar that's even closer called the "Pueblo" located on a freeway access road. Closer, but dangerous to stagger home from. It's got T-R-O-U-B-L-E stamped all over it, but what the hell..I'll give it a try soon.
We met with a drummer and drank for a few hours with him. It went well and we're going to get together with him Wednesday to actually play together. We didn't tell him, but he looks incredibly like a drummer out of our past...Dean. That's good..because Dean was a loyal guy and we're still friends with him.
If it all works out with this drummer we'll give a good pal of ours a shot at a guitar/mandolin/banjo slot. If HE too works out we'll have a complete lineup for A.U.
Of course there's a lot of "if's" there..but we're making progress. I've got a bunch of new songs to spring on everybody including some covers and a couple originals. We have an ad running for a R.V. singer in the Austin Chronicle starting this week. We're of course looking for a veteran singer who knows how to control a crowd...no rookies. The ad strongly suggests anyone answering better be either a trained wrestler..or an experienced "cynical but funny" bigmouth. It's gonna be a hard slot to fill....and whomever gets the job has his work cut out for him following Cosmo.
South by Southwest "music conference" is coming up. Lots of music to see..but massive crowds of idiots. I want to see veteran punk rock Austin band the Offenders at Emo's Friday for sure..and Dale Watson and Wayne Hancock are sharing a bill Saturday..and I just learned of all people Simon Stokes (!!) is going to be playing somewheres. Now I gotta find out where...no easy task considering about a thousand damned bands will be playing over 9 days or so. The second weekend of it I have the record show to deal with.
If I earn enough money at the record show (I'm loaded with stuff) I'm going to immediately plan a trip to the West coast to see my blood relatives I located a year ago for the first time.
Shit..so far this entry looks like a damned diary tonight..instead of a rant. What the hell.
I guess I'll rant about religion for awhile.
I was VERY impressed with the guy who answered our drummer ad the other night in one big way. He mentioned in passing that he was an atheist. I immediately told him I'm an agnostic; he smiled and declared that he actually was also an agnostic..but that most people don't know the difference between "atheism" and "agnosticism". He was glad to be in the company of people who knew the difference. I've felt the same way myself.
I thought about it when driving around to thrift stores today. I have quite a few friends who believe in the Christian god....I've become tolerant towards them. Years ago I would've argued with them constantly. I made quite a few Christians cry out of frustration..mostly women..but a few guys too. Take my word for it Christian folk reading this; you CAN'T prove anything to anyone. As long as you understand your belief is based on FAITH we have no quarrel.
One reason I began tolerating low-key Christians is that I learned that so many people I knew and assumed were heathen non-believers like me actually believed in a deity. Just because they never talked about it didn't change anything. The bottom line was even though they never practiced a single iota of Christianity they still believed. It's damn hard to shake when your parents pound it into your head when you're a kid. I was blown away when I sat down and took count. I was also blown away when I learned how many people were farting around with candles and believing in ancient gods and taking Crowley books literally. I'm not condemning them all. As I've said before I have alot in common with people into ol' Uncle Anton's Church of Satan. They are HEDONISTS at heart..just like me. I don't want to lump them in with nitwits who are more into defiling headstones and butchering helpless animals than having a good time.
I hear and read that human beings NEED to have an "explanation" for why they are here. Well, I don't. And I sure as hell don't see anything so hot about "reincarnation" If I come back as a fly or a dog or a dumbass cow..it's not gonna be ME.
I've heard it over and over and over..about how when we die it's a "new beginning". Oh bullcrap. That can't be proven anymore than Christianity or any other organized religion. When people go into the tired old bit "look at the mountains and the trees and the stars...how could there NOT be a god?" I wanna puke. That's just more unproven bologna..wishful thinking.
When you realize how many people....a HUGE MAJORITY of gullible humanoids on this earth actually believe in one faith or another..it then becomes clear how blatantly crooked telemarketers manage to stay in business...why totally idiotic cults grow to the point they own skyscrapers and mainstream newspapers.
When I see a manipulative salesmen knocking on my door..be they representing Kirby vacuum cleaners or Jehovah's Witnesses...I don't give them the chance to waste my time. I am firm and unyielding. I slam the door in their fucking face if they don't get the message right away. I keep my life free and clear of excess superstition and speculation and mental baggage.
It feels damn good...and even though there's no sense arguing with them..I wish more of my friends would try it.
This is in answer to a bit of confusion caused by my "whitetrash" oriented comments over the last couple days.
For the last 15 years or so I've described myself publicly as an "alcoholic".
I'm not a "problem" drinker (the only problem is running out), I've never been arrested for DWI and I rarely do things while drunk that I regret. Alcohol has a calming influence on me 29 nights out of the month. So, why did I begin to describe myself as an "alcoholic?"
It's to dis-arm anti-drinkers (such as my Mother) who think they can scare us happy imbibers by throwing the "A" word around.
I often use the words "fat" "ugly" "hothead" to name just a few to describe myself. Enemies can't use these words to hurt me when I use them first.
This is also the reason why I refer to myself as "whitetrash". If I admit to being "whitetrash" my enemies can't use the word against me.
There's a geneological basis to my declaring myself "whitetrash". And, I'm also a hot tempered guy much of the time. I don't plead guilty however to just any insult thrown my way. When I was growing up as an egghead kid I'd be called "faggot" all the time...."faggot" being the generic playground insult directed towards anybody "different" a quarter century ago. I'm strictly hetero...so, I don't own up to that one.
How FAT do you have to be to be FAT??? 10 pounds overweight?? or 50?? My Mom defines an "alcoholic" as someone who ENJOYS THE TASTE of alcohol. Do you agree??? Or do you think that's pushing it a bit???
Emilio wonders if he's "whitetrash"?? He's a cityboy even though he enjoys D.A.C. and fishing.
When I visited Todd Goss last year I met a very close friend of his who drives a pickup truck, hunts, fishes, drinks whiskey, has a bit of a belly, loves guns and lives out in the woods..is he a redneck?? Oops, I forgot to tell you he's black!
Is my good pal from ANTISEEN Jeff Clayton a "redneck"?? Is he "whitetrash" Is he a "punkrocker"?? Or is he a "rocker" or a "Southern rocker" or all of the above???
He lives in an immaculately clean house and drives a minivan. Does that change anything?? Hhmmm???
When you hear somebody use the contemporary catchphrase "that's really gay!" is that always meant or never meant or sometimes meant as an accusation of homosexuality?? Who decides??
Does it hurt YOUR feelings when some Taliban boob declares all Americans "infidels"??? Do you want to kick ass?? Does it HURT??? Does it bother you for days and weeks??
You're ALL INFIDELS..everyone of you reading this..and you're all fucking faggot junkies and fatso's too. So, FUCK OFF!!
Here's another one from my email folder..in response to me and Don:
"i am so sick about white people whining about this shit.. when did it become
"chic" to be white-trash? it's never been anything to be ashamed of, but it
wasn't broughten up so goddamn much either i'm thinking.. when my mother was
12 years old waiting for the rest of the kids at school to go inside after
lunch, so that she could dig thru their trash for food, i don't think it was
the thing at the front of her mind.. "damn i'm proud to be white trash" quit
yer bitchin ya bunch of wussies.. oh goodness who would have thought a group
other then our's w/ different social leanings, and economic status would poke
fun at us.. boo hoo hoo.. maybe i'm a rare breed, but if i see someone making
fun of white trash, i never feel prouder to be a member.. whole world has
turned to shit.. got people runnin around who technically would fall under
the umbrella of caucassian garbage, but as much as they bring it up i think
they're privledges should be revoked.. basically, my point is, if you feel
your white trash, and realize that you refer to yourself as such more then
twice a year, your turning into the same little pukes that bother us all in
the punk circles.. think about it boys and girls..
Well guess what??? I think YOU'RE a fucking wussie for sitting back and just taking it. You sound awfully comfortable being the butt of the privileged classes jokes. That's your right.
It's MY right to bellyache about anything I want to here in this diary...as often as I want to. If you think I'm being a "wussie" go find some smut to look at.
Your comments bring to mind the old ladies I was surrounded by at an office job for 3 years. They'd bitch and piss and moan all they wanted as long as it suited them...but if I complained about something that bothered me, they'd go into a hard-as-nails dialogue mode telling me to "get a life" or "get over it".
Anyway, go ahead and be a doormat if YOU want to. I'll be sticking up for you anyway....
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