Archive for October, 2011


My Favorite Boy Band

This is a trivial post. On the horizon, there is another big road trip coming up. Soon, we will have plenty of mundane things to chit-chat about. Thursday we will be at the Atomic Test-site in Nevada, Friday we’ll be in Sonoma, California so C-Jane can run the ‘Wine-Country ½ Marathon.’ I don’t run for fun, only for survival. I’m going to Sonoma for the wine.

This post has nothing to do with wine or running, this post is about Boy-Bands. Well, actually, only one Boy-Band; The Beatles.

(Yes, I’m avoiding writing about the truth. Before I deleted all my ‘truthy’ posts in July, I had stated that my integrity was for sale, all I needed was a book contract and I’d shut up. Two weeks later, I was signing a book deal. So ride your own shortbus to hell, I’m going down quietly.)

So, with that said, I’m going to write about my favorite boy-band, The Beatles. Revolver is my favorite Beatles album. It is within my top-twenty albums of all time; and believe me, I have listened to many albums and I own over 400 on CD. Music is my muse, my inspiration.

Why Revolver? Well, as far as ‘hits’ are concerned, the album offered ‘Good Day Sunshine,’ ‘Eleanor Rigby,’ and ‘Yellow Submarine.’ Two out of three of those I think are the worst on the album, the true genius of the album is all the ‘off-tracks’ that were ignored by popular media. Songs like ‘And Your Bird Can Sing,’ ‘Love You Too,’ ‘Taxman,’ and ‘Here, There, and Everywhere’ were ignored completely by the pop-media moguls. This album was totally revolutionary.

One year earlier, Help! showed some early signs of the change coming, and Rubber Soul which came out in-between had some worthy tunes, but Revolver was so radical in its time. In 1966, with the release of Revolver, The Beatles kicked off the entire hippy movement. Is that a bold statement? Contest it, please.

Seriously, who was there in ’66; the Trogs? the Rolling Stones? The Who was still a local band in london, and Eric Clapton; where was he? The Doors were still reading Aldous Huxley, Jimi Hendrix was still playing the blues, and the Grateful Dead hadn’t yet been born in ’66.

But the Beatles, who only three years earlier, had driven little girls wild with ‘Love, Love Me Do’ and ‘Twist and Shout,’ was now beginning a revolution in both spirit and in mind. Yes, the critics say Abbey Road was the Beatles pinnacle effort, and it is a brilliant album, but Revolver was truly Earth-shattering.

(See, now that I’m writing in the acceptable-politically-correct arena, life is truly boring and safe. It really is much nicer here with my head in the sand. I’m happier, you are happier, and I won’t be kidnapped by my own government and taken to another country to be tortured. Think about that for a little while. This is why I’m writing about the Beatles release forty-five years past.)


Remembering Stefanie

(The story below is true, but some of the facts and names have been altered to protect identities, particularly those involved in the accident and those closest family members of the lost. Those who were there know the absolute truth, and even they may have forgotten or replaced parts with various versions of their own recollections.)

Twenty years is a long ways back, and it is even further if you weren’t there. I was chosen as the messenger, and I don’t know how or why. However I may have come upon this knowledge, it has been long forgotten.

I write this under duress, but not resentfully, or regrettably. It is unhealthy to exhume the dead; we bury them for a reason. But maybe- just maybe – there is new evidence to the crime that took our friend from us. Does something need to come to light from so long ago passed, or is this haunting still in need of last rites?

As everybody knows Dorothy was swept up by a tornado and whisked away from our world to be dropped in a place unknown to all. My cousin, for this event, we shall call Dorothy. Consumed by a tornado may have been Dorothy’s fate, but it was Stefanie who had held Dorothy here on Earth. Stefanie gave to Dorothy temperance, but more importantly, a wind sock.

I used to party with RJ, Darren, Otto and Brian, Geoff, Chuck who don’t give a f**k, the Devil, and sometimes we were blessed with Dorothy and Stefanie’s company. We were the dirty dozen, even if there were only ten of us. There were hundreds of significant people in the fringe, but these ten were the core of our group. We were not a gang, we were a force.

Yes, I said I hung with the Devil. You don’t know him like I did. We were real tight back in the 80’s – BFFs you could say, but that is a story for God to judge, not you.

Having just come off a bad run with the Anti-Christ in 1989, my warped and drug-addled mind slipped to Oz. In my own drug-induced schizophrenia, I had warned Stefanie to stay away from him. In my complete freak-out I told EVERYBODY to stay away. And then I dropped out of the scene to clean-up and put my fractured mind back together. Ahhh, drug rehabilitation.

Stefanie didn’t believe in the Devil, as most of my friends didn’t. One night in October, back in 1991, Stefanie decided to go to a party with the Devil. In 1991 there used to be places in Southern California that could be called ‘The Middle of Nowhere.’ But not anymore, everywhere is choked with an over-stagnation of people. But twenty years ago, California still had pockets of nowhere, and one night in October, there was a party out in nowhere. It is here that the Anti-Christ took Stefanie, nowhere.

Stefanie rode shotgun. Two others traveled in the car with them, I’d known both of them, but I cannot remember exactly who they are now, 20-years have passed. Scotch doesn’t even age that long, right?

The Devil, who’d always wanted Stefanie as his girlfriend, worked hard to sway her away from a really good guy who’d loved her. You can’t blame the Devil for that, Stef was pretty hot. Everyone hit on Stef at least once, but the Devil was just more persistent.

(Back in 1985, one time, I not-so-subtly hit on her while we hung out and nice little Stefanie spit on me. On that day I decided that true love was a rare find, Stefanie’s flirtatious reply shouldn’t be discounted to an absolute ‘no.’ In her defense, she was only a freshman in high school, and clearly I was way too old by being a sophomore. Rejected, and thrown to the curb, I loved Stefanie anyway.)

Driving too fast, the driver missed seeing a stop sign. The diesel truck had no time to stop, smashing into the passenger side of the smaller car. In the direction of the greater force, the auto began flipping. Four bodies tumbled inside the end-over-end automobile. Hurtling out of the car through the shattered window, Stefanie’s body flew; having not a seatbelt’s strapping to hold her inside.

Stefanie landed head first on the pavement. God spared her beautiful face. According to the Devil, Stefanie died in his arms. We all blamed him, every one of us. Not one soul had an ounce of sympathy for the Devil. As we all saw it, he’d murdered our friend, the one he’d claimed to love.

Twenty years have passed. Brian has also passed; suspected suicide by automobile into a palm tree. Geoff has also passed; I heard he drank himself to death. Having no more wind sock, Dorothy never came back to us; she is now directionless and lost to the weather. The Anti-Christ is still at large, roaming the streets of SoCal.

Dorothy and the Anti-Christ share in that they never let it go. Dorothy will never forgive him for killing her best friend. After he’d burned me in ‘89, I’d always assumed that he lied about everything, especially his feelings about Stefanie.

But now, twenty years later – I wonder. I hear rumors that his life is a self-destroyed mess. Perhaps deep inside, the Devil hid some human qualities. Maybe I was wrong in these accusations. Guilt is a clear sign of conscience.


Absentee #1

(If I’m not writing here, I’m writing somewhere else. The Shortbus has a certain tone, a certain twist that I’m not feeling lately. The world is turning to hell before our eyes, total disintegration, and I have nothing to say? This isn’t right. I’ve been hiding in a make-believe world. Once book two is finished, I’ll need a small breather before book three. That is why I’m posting this absentee message. I could re-post something from the old-angry-days, that is, if anyone opts for it.)


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