The Vandals. In Memory of “Stevo” and “Human”
Two punkers who were some of the best, a time to reflect on my youthful relationships and rebellion.
They are part of my, and maybe yours, DNA.
Happy happy Valentine’s Day !
Category: Flash Backs
They come now as I get older… I don’t know why..
They took off
The holidays and my dad’s birthday all bring up memories of my family that I grew up with. It has been about ten years since both of my parents died. They both lived a long, good life. I think it is good to think about loved ones and remember them. It is a seasonal thing too.
My dad was a WWII Vet. He discovered veteran benefits where he could travel really cheap anywhere around the world. So, Mom and dad did just that. They traveled everywhere.
All their five children grown up and independent, mostly. They took off.
As a teenager in High School, it was kind of strange not having mom and dad there. Yet, my older brother or sister reluctantly helped out.
In the late 1970s and through the 1980s mom and dad continued to travel.
I was running a punk rock fanzine at the time. I gave them some issues to give out to any punks they met up with. This image is from Germany. Mom with a local punk rocker. It must have been around 1984.
Lycanthropy: My favorite scream from any punk singer… ever…
Celtic Wolf
“We do have myths. Myths nourish the old soul with even older stories. They give us strange images and amazing suggestions; these promote speculations that activate the aging mind.”
~ Hillman, James. The Force of Character: And the Lasting Life
Oh, I grew up with the Werewolf story. My best friend Gigi and I walked down to the local market with our pennies for candy. Then back up the wild hills, what we kids called “the Indian trails,” to watch scary movies on Saturday. Only with a big pillowcase full of candy. We knew this quote by heart,
“Even a man who’s pure at heart and says his prayers at night, will become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the Autumn moon is bright.”
The original quote written by screenwriter Curt Siodmak is “Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon is bright.”
Moving forward to the early 1980s when I played Charged GBH’s song for the first time. It was such a treat. I became a kid again climbing the “Indian trails” once more.
The wild sage bushes, hills of grass and sun above and the windy blue sky. I was free running and rolling through the wonder of youth. The easiness and thrill of being scared by good old monster films. Walking home at night with the full moon coming up from the Verdugo Mountain Range and hearing owls singing!
I never saw the band play the song live in the 1980s. They would tease us. But Ross and Jock are very clever and played a new song.
Then a few years back 2007 when they were touring in the United Sates, we went to see them in Ventura California. Close to my hometown. They must have known we were coming! As we were walking towards the event from behind the theater I heard a call,
“Hudley, Hudley…”
We saw Ross screaming from the second story room. His English slang-accent endearing to my heart. Looking up we heard him tell us to wait there, he had something to tell me.
So, when we were in front of the theater Ross and Colin came out. Colin came up to me and said,
“Hudley, we have a real treat for you. We are going to play the old songs.”
I often got on their cases. Asking them to play Lycanthropy. Even had them write out the lyrics to the song on a napkin. Which I still have. It only took about thirty something years to finally hear GBH’s song Lycanthropy live.
Well, that about does it this year with my little story about a band, a song, wolfbane and the first full moon of Autumn.
As ritual goes every first full moon of Autumn, since first hearing the song Lycanthropy, I listen to the song! I dance, howl, and enjoy my childhood and youthful rebellion again! I enjoy the song so much! All the good wild feelings are there!
October 9, Hunter’s Moon
The next full moon will be on Saturday morning, Sept. 10, 2022, at 5:59 a.m. EDT.
Yet, the Moon will appear full for about three days from Thursday evening to Sunday morning.
“Aging makes metaphor of biology. The organic changes are a form of poetic speech, rewriting personality into character.”
~ Hillman, James. The Force of Character: And the Lasting Life
One drop of rain
YEARS ON WORDPRESS
Originally posted 2019
I have Chiron square Mercury in my 7th house…
“Please believe me
Oh well, please believe me
Please believe me
I swear
I
Swear”
I didn’t speak much when I was young. Was not interested in writing either. Only a few poems. I played with my friends, but I found it more and more difficult to communicate at school. I felt restricted, invisible, or persecuted by my own peers. I was wild and not awake to the pounding of an education that seemed incredulous to me.
I now realize I had foresight, creativity and a natural spiritualism that could not find contact. Nature was receptive! My mom and dad tried with lots of watercolors and paper. A giant black board was painted in my room. Endless chalk drawings were created and erased, drawn, and erased. The old player piano in the boys’ room is where I spent hours playing any song I wanted that I learned by heart only.
Did I not express myself in school because of fear? Was it the constant fighting and alcoholism in my household which pushed my mind down into myself? Was it dyslexic, autism or a painful shyness that was the bewildering issue within me? We the children were not diagnosed back then.
Having foresight was a curse when no one listened! I did not have the proper device, neither did I have the wise ability to reach out towards others. I did not have a voice!
Now at 60 (66) I realize my heart & mind are mature and keen enough to reach my inward growing child. That is my reasoning currently to create a hub like The Seminary Of Praying Mantis Publishing.
To share my voice and reach a global community! I believe this is the truth. Finding one’s voice and sticking to it is wonderful. The years on WordPress has helped to make this happen.
While spending a few hours observing nature this afternoon. I know that the many voices were loud and some subtle. The chirp-chirp birds, to the black ravens on tall cypress trees. Above me high in the sky are the circling hawks and the commercial jets. Sounds of life. One drop of rain touched me. I am one drop of rain too.
I invite you to support The Seminary of Praying Mantis Publishing and celebrate with me. I have words to read, items for sale and images to make you laugh. I have grown as a writer, author, and artist.
It is amazing that so many tools are available where one can publish ones’ works! It can be achieved very cheaply and sometimes even for free as with Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing. I have taken the core of my punk philosophy, wild nature, foresight, and freedom to communicate with the world. I found a place to express myself. It is colorfully rewarding.
Mother’s Eyes
(this is a post about our humanity and is not political!!)
Taking children from their parents is what is happening at this time and place in the United States. It bothers me terribly. I think about the loss of my own two parents over the last ten years. The grieving is done. There is still a place in my mind and heart that will always miss them. My parents were in my life for over 50 years.
I remember lying in bed at night as a babe thinking,” what would I ever do if I lost either one of my parents!?”
I would cry alone at night. Maybe this is what we all go through as children in our imagination? A reality for many children now in our country!!
Yesterday my oldest son came home from his third week from his new job. I ran and greeted him outside. Under the olive tree I looked into his eyes and smiled. We talked and he was happy to have the weekend off.
His eyes were a beautiful green. I remember that color! The same color as my mother’s eyes.
As a mother it is a wonder to see my mother’s face echoing in my son’s face!
I wrote a poem for my mother about her eyes. I would like to share.
Entitled Mother’s Eyes. Written 12/87.
Something in my mother’s eyes
told me something more!
Something in her wondering words
as we walked downstairs
Passing the front door.
Her eyes, her eyes!!
Her peace,
I felt,
She talked of crystals as spiritual,
She talked about protecting and caring
for her son and another son’s wife
I saw her and felt her smell the roses L’Amour.
I drive away from her
going to a place
she has visited before
I wondered about a ghostly her
that I never saw before.
In her eyes, her eyes
green crystals
dulled and well-rounded
as pupils are
I almost started crying
seeing the wet tears
which never left
the whites of her eyes.
Her eyes, her eyes
told me something more
then the simple room there knew
Her eyes told me of new feelings
which words can’t capture
and fear brings in its true meaning.
Her eyes and fear and lots of love
could it be I’m capturing?
her soul shape
a dove?
The little secrets she threw my way,
silly me,
I bet she knows me
past, present, and future days.
I don’t know whether to be happy or cry,
All because of her eyes, her eyes.
Oldest son had an invisible friend that soon disappeared as he grew up. “Beek Owl” was a large bird that watched over him and talked to him. I tried to capture Beek’s image as son described him. We did not have much back then to create with. Some cardboard and a few watercolors for arty farty projects. I made a stencil of Beek Owl so I could always remember him.
Mavericks of Night Fever
“Those who tune in with its powers will be mavericks who will drag us into the new era…”
~ Uranus the planet insight quote.
Here comes one of those narrowing openings. A flash from my past. All initiated by a song. Youngest told oldest son to play some Bee Gees. Oldest son was driving so he did. The song came on and while sitting in the back of the car it happened.
Lynn 1977. She took me to see Saturday Night Fever in Westwood, CA. The late night showing of the film. A long drive at night. We had the night fervor of youth and freedom flowing through our blood. It was a fantastic time to be young.
Disco, new wave, rock and punk were merged tight as the proverbially creative spark upon the music scene unknown.
wilds of youth
Winter is often a time to reflect as the fire burns. In a year I will be a senior citizen and like my mom told me, “I may be old on the outside… but I still feel young on the inside!” I still yell the rebel call now and then too! So What?!
Punk nostalgia is a good thing.
I was thinking about my parent’s home today. Over 55 years it was the home of my heart and my youthful years. A place to visit and be loved. Now that it is gone to me, I still like to think upon it and share how great it was. Building tree forts, running away from my dad cause he was being a drunk ass, or enjoying the great fires he would make in the fireplace. Mom’s cooking was always a delight to sit down to.
“We just want to live a lovely life.” ~ Steve Ignorant
I miss the wild freedom the Flipside Fanzine people had to create and speak out. It was an overwhelming experience all the time. The great, foolish and profound characters that we promoted and shared rebellion with, I miss them too. So punk nostalgia is a good friend to remember. Punk has transformed into a different animal. It ain’t what it was. Shows are vastly bigger. Yet, in contrast to this are the small free shows at local bars, when you can find them. I like local now ! I don’t like driving the freeways anymore if I don’t have to.
“Just because we give the impression that life’s a certain way because of technology, there are still people having a rough time of it. So there are bands trying to do it, and there always will be. You’ve just got to go and find them.” ~ Steve Ignorant
I miss the wilds of my youth to run up green hills in Spring and slide down them on cardboard boxes. I miss going to shows where I knew all the players. I had something to offer them then.
Irrelativity
“…Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!
I find comment ’bout my looks irrelativity,
Think I’ll go and have some fun,
‘Cos it’s all for free.
I’m not searching for a reason to enjoy myself…,”
– Yardbirds
Had one of those dreams of being back at the scene of the 1980s. A club morphed into a Golden Voice show! The tight feelings were there of knowing all the bands and the characters and players! Jim Kaa of the Crowd was talking in my ear when brother Gus showed up. We are not talking these days, but in this dream, we approached each other for a forgiving hug when I turned into myself. How I look now.
I asked myself if I had the password to get into the show? I said it does not matter because I am in and not going anywhere!
Lots of guys from bands were roaming around! I was consciously aware enough to dig being back in the middle of things. Running around and being part of what was happening…like everyone else there! My scene, my friends, something to offer and cover! Al approached me; we then were at an adjoining Chinese restaurant. We were shooting the breeze! I was wondering where the bar was ’cause a cold beer sounded good to ease my social tension!
Al Flipside had a new computerized contraption that took pictures, recorded bands, and interviewed bands; ready for documenting the whole scene. All from a large black computer book!
He was on the cutting edge and creative as usual. As we were eating our noodles a band came on! Al said he had to go see about a band. I told him go ahead I will watch over your noodles until you get back!!
I awoke from the dream with a missing feeling of belonging once to a music scene that was overwhelming wild and unpredictable. I was spoiled then! My heart will always mourn those days of youthful rebellion!
sneaking suspicion… somethings in the air…
Colin AbrahallWhat a wicked web we weave /When governments deceive/And I wanna believe……/I gotta believe/Conspiracy theory abound/But the truth is under ground,/I wanna believe I wanna believe/I gotta believe ` GBH
I have a sneaking suspicion and I believe that Colin Abrahall wrote the lyrics to the song “I Want To Believe!” I woke up with it on my mind. Also those “X-Files” feelings got my pineal gland stimulated again. Something is in the air. I can always feel it when Chris Carter is creating by way of the vast unconscious collective of writers. Believe me I just know. Before big hair Giorgio A. Tsoukalos there was the great big hairdos of GBH!! See how it all comes together here. I am pulling the threads tighter too.
Original Poster to X-Files film I Want To BelieveScully: Mulder, since we’ve been here you’ve acted as if you’ve expected to find every piece of evidence that we’ve come across. What aren’t you telling me? Why are we here?
Mulder: A true piece of history, Scully. The very first X-File. Initiated by J. Edgar Hoover himself in 1946. ‘ X-Files
When the X-Files film I Want To Believe came out in 2008 I was thrilled. You have to know that I was a hardcore fan of the 1990s X-Files series throughout the 90s; besides nursing the babe I looked froward to Unsolved Mysteries and then the X-Files on Friday nights.
“We are made of stardust, our whole body consists of material that has been here before the beginning of time.” ‘Giorgio A. Tsoukalos
Now before the 2008 release of the I want to Believe film we listened to the Ha Ha CD in our car. GBH’s song I Want To Believe, was to me, the perfect new addition to the this film. I put so much anticipation into the song and the film I thought for sure that Mr. Carter would use the song in his film. I was sad when the two songs only came together in my mystical place of belief… but I was projecting it real hard onto the movie screen … believe me!!
What does all of this mean… it means something and in time I may understand…. but for now…
@@@ until next time..
“The Electromagnetic Hypothesis of Olfaction” at the Society for Scientific Exploration conclude that insects use a portion of the EM spectrum to communicate.” ‘Pg 207 Lost Star of Myth and Time by Walter Cruttenden
A high standard
Music is about good character, loyalty, good friendship and integrity. Rock & Roll is more than goo goo eyes and stupid sluts with wet panties. Rock & Roll is a revolution of words and style. Yes, this is a high standard…so be it!!
While growing up my home had a lot of musical diversity around the house. The German Telefunken radio was usually playing what my mom or dad liked; Jazz or local radio channels. There was not a large section of radio channels back from the 1950s through to the 1970s. This made is easy to hear your favorite songs. Just like TV, everyone was listening to the same channels and that had a community sense of continuity to it.
I have written this before…my first 45 record was Love Me tender by Elvis. I played the 45 on my little portable hand-held record player. Oh boy, It was rather large compared to hand-held devices of today and a lot cooler too. One of the older siblings had a 8 track cassette player in his car. I remember hearing the Beatles’ Rubber Soul in his Hot Rod Ford Falcon. By eight years old ! I knew all the songs off the album by heart. Then there were vinyl LP’s; Donovan, The Seeds and I think Cream might have been around in home somewhere?
Teen Idols and the world of music !?
Teen idols were someone to mock and make faces at. I still feel even stronger about this today!! For me it was the music that moved me. The lyrics and the tunes that got me going. Even Elvis Presley and the Beatles only got the ‘crush-thing-going’ pale in comparison. It is their character that got me. How they dressed and how they spoke. I always focused on who they were as a person then the usual sex object to be swooned over. Even with all my experiences with music and rock stars or anti-rockstarism over the years, I have kept this solid in my perspective as,
Love the music, love the character, try to be a good friend, dig the whole thing together!! Dance to it too…or roll around on the ground and throw up!!
Later on when deep in the bowels of the musical beast I made a promise to myself. If those overwhelming feelings of ‘Idol-love’ consumed me I would blow. I made a vow never to go out on a date or fall in love with a band member; even if only indirectly and from afar!! The idea of “Idol,” “Icon,” or “rock star,” repels me. It was not easy…but it can be done !!
Now imagine driving (before-drivers license) in you older brother’s Ford Falcon, when he is not around, and pushing on the gas pedal down to this song…. my first sense of musical power. Here comes Big Bruiser…the hill that helps you fly over the San Fernando Valley. Ha HA Ha !!
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