“…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!
I am presenting for purchase four watercolor paintings:
Life, death and rebirth is what the Praying Mantis teaches me. We have formed a relationship over the years. Each year in my garden the many small perfectly formed baby mantis come to my garden each spring. The mantis matures through the summer months. In August the big golden green mama mantis lays her egg sack. Then she dies. The continuity of life comes forth again next spring. In this watercolor painting I capture the essence of Cronemantis’s charm and beauty. She shows off her wings in the glow of moon phases within her flower garden.
2. Sunflower Soul
The sunflower symbolically represents the soul or solar plexus. The harvest time of experience and adventure. Pomegranates balance out this watercolor painting with the memories of youth and fun at the end of summer. Heading to the hill to pull the fruit from the trees to eat the jeweled sweets.
3. Praying Mantis Mandala
The colors in this watercolor painting blends colors of flowers and the Praying Mantis. This symbolizes my reverence for nature.
Baubo’s myth and archetypal archaic knowledge is symbolically shared in this cartoon magazine cover. A new twist on Flower Power. When Demeter lost her daughter Persephone to the underworld she is deep in grief. It is Demeter’s maid servant that pulls up her skirt exposing herself. Naked below, Baubo, made Demeter laugh. Baubo Protagonist transforms! As a woman, as a flower pollinating humanity with the thoughts of equality and love. Men are transformed by her mighty power!! She is awesome glorious in her nakedness! Lampoonery!! A Flopside Comic production.
At Starbucks the young woman behind the counter said,
“I like your shirt!”
“You like G.B.H.?”
She gave me an intense look of inwardness.
“Yes…like Minor Threat and…China White!”
“No one listens to Punk anymore.”
“Only the old punk folk!”
I was referring to myself. She gave me a sheepish smile while giving me a receipt for two Grande Café Lattes.
It was the first time we were in this Starbucks. Walking the streets here in the evening is pleasant. Noticing the many closed storefront businesses along Colorado Blvd. in Pasadena made us wonder. Our conclusion was that the businesses that offered a service survived. This is where the people mingled. As colorful clusters around most coffee shops here. Foundations of parking lots, businesses and apartments went up above this! This gave me a dreamy concern. I imagined living this way.
“John, After the kids grow up and are on their way, maybe we can get an apartment and live this way?”
“It might not be so bad.”
“I wonder if they allow cats?”
It was because of a longtime friend that we were out here, a few miles from out hometown. The Laemmle Theater a couple blocks from our home closed down about three years earlier. Once down the street from us now Pasadena was the nearest one.
My punk rock heart asked me,
“Do you really want to see another film about punk rock, I mean didn’t you experience the real deal already!?”
“I don’t know? A friend told me that the film has “girl energy,” it seems like I could use some of that!”
Researching the film I was pulled to it more and more. I decided to get a ticket online and drive out to see it alone. Husband jumped aboard and said,
“We can visit the Yard House or Lucky Baldwins after the show!”
This we did later.
We Are The Bestdoes have “girl energy,” it has something more that touched me deeply too. Something, that I must say, defines the punk rock experience for me! It always has and it always will.
Since its creation and migration around the world. punk rock , has been raped-skated-and-donated!! What this film brings forth in a true way is the experience of punk rock. The film puts you in the world of three 7th graders. Three thirteen year old girls that don’t fit in! So they reach out to music, each other and to other punks.
Having guys call you ugly and being ignored by popular culture are two real initiations into the punk rock girl experience.
It is all about rebellion, ideologies, music and fun! The film is sweet, innocent and honest! Defining that having a band and friendship is more important then the guys you’re sleeping with.
I enjoy the freedom the girls have to get around on subways. The film is based in Stockholm Sweden during the 1980s.
After the film and a nice long walk I found myself perching at the Yard House with a dark beer before my gaze. The monitors were all about Hockey. I am naturally repelled by organized sports as well as the commercials. The ones before the film were awful too…Porsche to Lexus commercials. Madmen designed to get that needed uplift. Why did we pay money to watch commercials as well?
Anyway, I thought upon Bobo, Klara and Hedvig and how the punk culture was portrayed in the film compared to my real experiences. As I sipped my beer I made my usual under the breath insult about the Kings game. With wide eyes and mouth grinning,,
“Hate the Sport!!”
Adding another rebellious beat to this old folk punk heart of mine.
He is rascal, part of the youthful scene that we punks were made from! Those microbial bats of Rock & Roll. A jokester that played his music the way he wanted to. He is a friend and youthful comrade that always was there. A few years back I got to see White Flag rock out a Saint’s song. Demotion Girl. (He knew that was a favorite song of mine.) That was Pat always making his friends happy and irritated at the same time. He wrote and recorded the Flipside Fanzine theme song that is used on a few of the Flipside records and videos which are now free trolling through-out the internet. The last time I spoke with him was backstage at the Golden Voice 30-year gig at the Santa Monica Civic. He was part of the sexy black lace that held the original puck scene together. I will miss him. He overwhelmed me with his knowledge of music and he let me know it too!!
I have learned one thing. As Woody says, “Showing up is 80 percent of life.” Sometimes it’s easier to hide home in bed. I’ve done both. – Woody Allen
I saw the invites to this event and they stirred me up. I ignored it. Then my brother asked if I was going. It stirred me up again. I love Griffith Park yet I was in a lazy mood. With conflict and debate the kid and I decided to see what was up. We printed the directions to the event and then we were off.. Son is my car-copilot so he had to tell me where to go…ah how to get there.
“You sure we don’t get on the 134 east to get to the 5?” I asked.
“No just go straight on the 101 until you get to Los Feliz exit!”
We ended turning around near the Hollywood Bowl back on to the 101 heading towards the 134.
“Mom you have gone too far we are already past the Bob Hope Airport.”
I knew what was going on but I wanted him to get an idea and learn ‘ the dance of the 134, 5 and 101.’ Once we worked it out he knew where he goofed up and that we were now heading in the right direction and soon turning off towards Crystal Springs Griffith Park.
We found the place where the event was. I saw Ed Colver who was the tallest one there. So we set up our chairs at a distance and enjoyed our subway sandwiches. I was feeling the vibe. Getting an outside view and enjoying the park and my kid. He was eating and looking at the little pedal chopper bikes that some kids were riding. So we took a spin on a couple and had a hell of a time for an hour. I had so much fun. Don’t think we laughed like that in a long time.
I realized, as I walked closer into the crowd of punkers, what was pulling them together was not the sound of loud music. It was a buzz like bees around honey, friendship.
“Ok, I am ready to move in.”
“You don’t have to Mom.”
What use to draw me to these rebels like a moth to a flame was the sound of loud music. I was not picking up any on my antennas and they were up. We moved on in like it was the most natural thing to do. Colored hair, tattoos and life was there. A lot of happy faces and talking all-round made it a good place to be. It was darn good to talk with some of my ol’punk buddies and say hi to friends. I then got a couple looks from son and we were off.
He keeps me balanced. One foot in the music scene and one in a mama / kids world. I like it that way. I am happy we went. It seems like it was a very successful event!!
The Three O’ Clock are playing at the Glass House tonight in Pomona CA. which is more than an hour and 7 minutes from where I live, but with traffic much more on the way there. This means if I want to drink some beer that is a hell of a risk that I would be taking on the way back, late in the wee hours of morn. Ya, when I was a youngster nothing would stop me from seeing my favorite bands. Critical thinking has really ruined my fun life. I feel blessed that I saw this band many times in my youth. They are a unique band who are now associated with the Paisley Underground; but they got their momentum from the early Los Angeles underground punk rock scene. We loved them. Their music dazzled us. They once called themselves the Salvation Army.
As the story goes, I was very nasty to them when they changed their name. I apologize now with all my heart… also about the religious candle too with Jesus on it. I made fun of it at Mr. Ricky Start aka Michael Quercio parents’ home. I am sorry. The Bangs (Bangles) and The Salvation Army rained hard on the Los Angeles punk rock scene in the early 80s. It was always changing, a penumbra of style and ideologies. We were all growing up together. This is when I learned that just because you loved a band, supported a band and offered them free promotion did not mean you had any rights to how they saw life. I found out the hard way. A band could drop you like a hot potato. Some did…but there were always other bands coming along that needed some help.
Thanks goes to Christina Zamora for the psychedelic pictures taken at the Glass House
I’ve included an interview from Flipside Fanzine with The Three O’ Clock from their earlier years as Salvation Army. What they had to say is remarkably interesting too. Also, I am sharing a little psychedelic weirdness with you the reader. Salvation Army is on the cover of this issue. The advertisement on the back cover of Flipside 30 is Shattered Faith. Yes, both bands are playing on the same night which is kind of interestingly out there. Shattered Faith is playing at The Redwood Bar & Grill.
This does sting my heart a bit because you cannot be two places at the same time. The addiction to see bands, support them and know them personally…has somewhat passed. Yet, it is comforting to know both bands are still out there doing their thing and having fun.
8 buck at the Redwood seems more of a deal than 20 buck charged at the Glass House. Oh Boy, here goes my critical thinking again, I know the beers at the Redwood are awesome pints but I am not sure about the Glass House. This is my two bits on the history of a band and the present reality of that same band. April 2013.
The Static Age brings us another fun show at the Scotland Yard Pub in Canoga Park. I could not refuse this free show in my backyard with the Smears (UK), Plexikill, Ingenue and Government Trap. I missed Government Trap but did see their flyers everywhere. Some of us made little paper airplanes with them. Flying promotional airplanes.
Ingenue is an all-girl band that has a certain kind of sound that I want to get lost in. That is what I look for in a band. That place where I get so lost in the sound that I forget myself. They also got to that point as well where they let go. That place where the line between band and audience fades away. Nice Bass sound and wildly played!!
Plexikill is a powerful band. Nice style with an awesome drummer. She had both feet going even if her left foot only seemed like it was vibrating up and down, cool…great sound!
Then came the headlining band from UK… The SMEARS. The lead singer Em reminded me of actress Rosalind Russell. They have a heavy musical current to their music. They played a few songs but not enough. It was like not having enough cake…or skimping on the orderves. A tease. I laughed when someone from the audience gave them shots of Sake, the singer said,
“Is this Semen?”
I ADORE seeing new and UNCOMMON bands. I included the bands websites below. All the stuff ya need like names, show dates and a little free listening.
Whenever I happen to drive by the Whisky a Go Go I often flash back to the golden days of my youthful rebellion. It was hanging under the marquee that I first met Mike Atta. Like many personalities and images that come forth, Mike’s is a pronounced one that echoes loudly in my memories of that extraordinary time.
It became a routine to go to the liquor Store on Topanga & Dumetz, in Woodland Hills, before driving out to the Whisky A Go Go on Sunset: I bought a large glass Dr. Pepper to drink on the drive through the canyon. The tall thin glass of cold soda was the best thing in the world. This was the beginning of my days in the Los Angeles punk scene. I gravitated towards the band the Middle Class. I remember the boys of the band. Impressions of running around, laughing, and talking while being inspired by the style and personalities of the boys in this band. The Atta boys and Mike Patton on bass is how I remembered them. They were my early comrades and contain the feelings of that time in my life of youthful enthusiasm and wild adventures on the streets.
We all filled our bellies full of beer and into the Whisky we would run as we then went wild to the sounds of the Middle Class. To recall these memories sends chills up my spine. “I love these guys.” They were such a big part of my life.
Current…last time I saw The Middle Class at Webers in the San Fernando Valley (2012)
I turned the exposure to “out of control light maxed out” on my little Sony camera and had some fun… enjoyed all the bands this evening but my focus was on the Middle Class.
If you are into the early evolution of punk rock you have to view these images taken by Jenny Lens. The feeling from her pictures jump out at you and it is all about those crazy wild punks. This is the root system of the LA punk rock scene and it’s amazing history. Jenny Len’s images yell out loudly about the history of punk rock and the continuity of a music scene in general. The women of punk rock may have to fight a lot harder to push their way in and Jenny’s photography needs to be proudly displayed in the “herstory” of musical museums as well.
Anarchy seems so often clothed in the rebellion and intellectual dress of its followers. When I was younger we had the familiar old image of the Dove sign of two fingers held-up and apart as the symbol of peace. In the punk rock years of the late seventies and early eighties that symbol metamorphosed and became the “V” of vice, vandalism and violence. I am sure from the outside this seemed radical and rebellious and it was, but within my community of friends it stood for something more. To me personally it stood for freedom from cultural and religious accountability, but not from what lived at the root of its meaning,
“all true-hearted, and that we did all carry ourselves with integrity.”
It was not laws and dogmas that guided us but a true creative spark to change what pissed us off. It was the Governments that lied to us and the dogmatic churches that belittled and brainwashed us with visions of hell and damnation. The worst characters to this abomination of their creation being Saint Augustine and the first Christian king from Constantinople, Constantine the Great.
Putting the blame aside, I understand that culture and religion breeds morals and ethics. The most powerful being how we learn these ways of being as an oral tradition passed on from mother to child. The ethics and morals of what is right and wrong nurtured by love, and this is the best scenario which is based on the bond between family and loved ones. The goal is to break the bonds of family and so move out into the world as a whole individual filled with integrity.
The above quote from Thomas Rainsborogh’s mouth states clearly the knowing experience of the true anarchy experience. This is the freedom to make the best choice for all concerned. This is not because we have to, or because of peer pressure. It is because we are true-hearted, and that we carry ourselves with integrity as a single individual , with or without government, but hopeful that others will follow on their own accord.
In Aurora, Colorado James E. Holmes killed and it is still a mystery why he killed. My focus is not on him. He is an insane young man who because of his lewdness reveals to us a darkness, a shadow that this country must now face. This is not Anarchy! It is something else and it is as dark and opaque as the sucking under-world. Yet, within this tragedy and drama is the extreme anarchy of a few individuals that cared more for another than they did for themselves.
I am speaking of the ones that died that day to save another life. I am not a political fool for this country, it is nothing like that. In the chaos of this a hope shines forth …can you see it? This hope best shows us what the anarchist experience looks like. This is defined as an act for another that is based on the statement, true-hearted, and that we did all carry ourselves with integrity. I am not saying that one should die for anarchy or die for another to experience this anarchy experience because it can be viewed and achieved in the smallest of choices or actions. I am saying that my heart is honored to know that within humanity there are individuals that have a conscience and this is the blood of a true anarchist. In these dark times I am often in a daze of overwhelmedness, today I cried and my heart-felt freedom.
Hold up the beam of light called conscience, hold it up to the Big Wigs, the Corpocracy, the Illuminati, Wall Street and the Federal Reserve… they don’t have a chance.