My Punkalullaby

Excerpt from MY PUNKALULLABY a paperback Memoir


I fell into the punk underground, but I was not a groupie or reject from an earlier

music scene. I was one with the punk scene,

and I tumbled into the mystery of it. I had a

voice again like I did when I was that young

tomboy. The punk scene was like Halloween,

Christmas, horror films, and freedom all at

the same time. Overwhelmed, I felt as though

I was in A Midsummer Night’s Dream,

mimicking Puck— taking on the images that

were around me without question.

I was becoming one with my punkalullaby. I coined the word punkalullaby.

It means that the whole time I was in the

punk rock scene, from beginning to end, it

was all about a song. One song to the next

pulled me throughout the scene. Once that

loud music got into my blood there was

nothing like it. I was socially awkward, wild,

and morally uncultivated. I was a perfect

product for the Los Angeles punk rock scene

because I was someone that the normal

culture had completely abandoned. Yet, here I

was, welcomed into an underground

counterculture.

It was my turn to create a name for

myself. I became a punk rocker. I would spit

in your face if I hated you. I’d hit you if I

loved you. For the first time in my life I felt

power.

I cut my hair, painted my nails black and lips Revlon Blackberry.

My bellbottoms

were thrown out and replaced with black

straight legs. I shopped at thrift stores and

navy surplus stores for my clothes.

For twenty dollars, I could buy a

complete wardrobe. I wore cowboy boots or

rain boots. I collected badges and put them

on my shirts. These badges were of local

bands and images that were important to me!

I started buying punk rock records and

listening to punk rock music and continued to

listen to the radio.



Shine on shine my little star

image rellief / Stencil of Chiron 1995

Chiron, is a small Solar System body in the outer Solar System, orbiting the Sun between Saturn and Uranus.
Orbital period: 50 years. Discovered: October 18, 1977Radius: 84.314 mi Aphelion: 62′ 0″ Orbits: Sun Angular diameter: 0.035″ (max) Discoverer: Charles T. Kowal


Some say that punk has been around a long time. It has in one form or another. Yet the flavor I am referring to is a unique form, known as Punk Rock, that formed around the cusp, a little before and after, 1977. The median of young punk at that time being the age of 19. As most born in the year 1958.

The small solar system body discovered at the time is Chiron known in mythology as “the wounded healer.” Los Angeles Flipside Fanzine formed at that time. Punk bands with this flavor formed too. The Saints, The Dammed and The Ramones. Sex Pistols etc. Around the time of 1977 to 1987 is the decade of the creation of this unique flavor of punk that continues today.
Now (charged) GBH, the Circle Jerks and Social Distortion are celebrating their 40-year anniversaries around that time median.


Mar 28, 1977, Chiron enters Taurus. Feb 18, 2019 Chiron enters Aries. “Chiron teaches us the philosophical perspective, and the perspective that our wildness, which may put us outside the status quo, may be our wisdom.” ~ Tim Lyons


The current 40-year celebration is based on the beginning close to the cusp of 1977. The originators and wild ones who moved with this flavor of punk rock.
Back then were not our glory days but more the beginning when we all had to create our hubs, bands, media, promotions, record labels, and fanzines. We were isolated and dependence on each other was the key to our survival. The news did not mention us unless cops charged our shows. Our ways were strange and unique. We did it all ourselves. Dark rooms, silk screens were what we did. Flyers are how we communicated.

I always had a way into this flavor of punk. It is in my DNA. Like most of us original characters we are now writing about those days. As a bard and punk journalist, it is only natural for me to do this.

Recently I received a review on Amazon calling my Punkalullaby memoir as being “Trite and Boring.” I thought of many ways to respond to the criticism, but I did not. It was a long process for me creating and then sharing my story. I think that review is more about the reviewer than my story. If that person took the time to read it. He would have found a woman’s psyche addressing the world with her wild woman ways. It is about characters, music and the growth of a punk scene. Punks who grew up together.

I don’t see the past as my glory days. Yet, I did make some darn good friends. I think that 1977 was a unique time that brought a lot of misfits tighter together. This is all about our experiences and friendships which both need to be held up high and respected.

This is the key of our punk scene. Its foundation and flavor of punk rock, music wise that is. Chiron is an embellishment,  a signature in the heavens that once announced our coming. That it all is valid and has deep meaning. So, do our lives.

“Shine on shine my little star

Up above the world honey that you are

Shine on now you don’t give me no love

Hit me like a death ray baby from above.”


 

 

 

 

In its highest sense.

To my friend Dionysus

“According to Jung, humanity holds a special role in creation: to contribute to the act of consciousness, and the point of view of morality, in its highest sense.” ~ Johnson, Robert A. Ecstasy (p. 64) Harper One. Kindle Edition.


The Avengers, the Dils and the Alley Cats.

Sunday May 26 will be the time to join with punk comrades and celebrate our originators and characters of the early California punk scene. The Avengers, the Dils and the Alley Cats.

In memory of Jimmy Wilsey

I stumbled into the early punk scene. The Australian Saints and the San Franciscan Avengers gave me the courage to go and see any other alternative underground bands on my own. I found myself melting into a wild alchemy of youths that had something to say. We were finding our voices. All the unknown characters were there, nobodies creating a scene together. We were wild and knew all the songs by heart by The Dils, The Alley Cats and the Avengers.

I will be there handing out some badges joining in the event in memory of our youthful rebellion that is still the heart beat of this crazy continuity of punk rock that still drives our DNA onward,,,

The Avengers, The Dils and The Alley Cats + many special guests (A Celebration of the Life of Jimmy Wilsey) at Echoplex

https://www.facebook.com/events/623081094804740/


Images taken from various Los Angeles Flipside Fanzines.

 


 


 

Sting like a jelly-fish

Today while walking into Ralph’s super market I saw the familiar old lady under yellow plastic. She was holding a white tissue to her red nose. She sat in her wheelchair at a prime target getting her ‘a little sympathy’. She got mine. I went into the store and purchased a $1.95 Starbucks house coffee medium. I am still amazed that a ‘cup of joe’ costs so much now. I remember when it was 25 cents.

“I like watching Noir films,” I said to the barista. “It is a wonder in those films that a ‘cup of joe’ only coast five pennies.  Twenty-five cents got you a cup of coffee, a ham sandwich and a piece of pie.”

The barista smiled at me as I took the coffee, put in some cream and sugar and then headed towards the old lady in a wheelchair.

“Here is a cup of coffee, you look cold.?!”

“I don’t drink coffee it is bad for you.”

“Really I thought it would warm you up. Coffee is not as bad for you as you may think.”

“I have never had any.” She looked down to her right at a dirty bag of oranges. “It is all right I had an orange…I am fine.”

I was a bit upset. I never thought that she would reject a cup of coffee on such a cold and rainy day.

“Lady sometimes beggars can’t be choosers?!”

I realized that I could not reason with the lady. She had her right to say no.  So, I walked on remembering what an old myth taught me. All about a woman’s psyche.

As Persephone went on her journey, she was advised not to give anything to those needy people who asked for something along the way. It was important for her to hold on to her strength and parts of herself that were precious.

I guess I failed the test today.Then that sorrow thread pulled in me. I call it the thread of sorrow.

I think that our current society does not embrace their share of sorrow. That is why we have so many drug addicts and alcoholics. A social epidemic.

We all need to hold on to or embrace our threads of sorrow. It can pull hard. It can be an echo that mocks. It can sting like a jelly-fish. When we run from our share of sorrow, ignore it, or get lost in our addictions hating it, it only manifests in our world as a monster shadow. Creating hate, chaos and terrible politicians. That is why I love Jazz because it speaks to the human heart and soul. It embraces it’s share of sorrow.


On my mind when i woke up….


I know what I write here. It is the pun-rock curse. A fan, promoter band thing. As a fan it was my dream to meet the bands and the promoters. The intimacy and friendships that formed are endearing for me. There was a time and place about eight years ago that I brought two bands together. Rikk Agnew Band (cult of ‘58) and The Black Widows (carry a big stick). It was a time when the San Fernando Valley was beaming with a few hot spots or punk and alternative music hubs. My one promotion time right after a 10-year  Flipside Fanzine flopped. My mom had just died and I had two boys that needed me at 8 and 16 and I was acting like the teenager… for a while.  Eight years ago is fast growing time for two boys. Life is new and exciting. Eight years for a 52-year-old is slow and precious. I introduced A Pretty Mess and Rikk Agnew and Panic Movement to a good night of old-time buddies and new ones. I was trying to bring together many aspects of the scene at that time and place that I loved. I like small shady clubs and intimate encounters. It was a happy night of loud live music. I was delighted and still think about that night often. I see that the Rikk Agnew Band and The Black Widows will be playing at Cafe NELA coming up this month. Sweet. I guess seeing this event brought back a few fantastic memories. So much has changed but this is so surreal & feels good to my old punk rock bones.


https://www.facebook.com/events/2180430575536192/?notif_t=event_calendar_create&notif_id=1535937037942310


Pancakes… in the hot oil…

Trump’s lawyers are in the hot oil… they have ruined their bright

reputations !!

and have become pancakes with pesto… Testaroli..  with pesto and garlic… and lots of cheese…. eat them down Mr. Trump…. hahahahah poor Rudy and Emmet…



Flopside COmics.. Be More than an assholi !!!!


A punkytale

A punkytale as oral tradition as bards of old

Rockin’ in my rockin’ chair
Rockin’ in my rockin’ dreams
We all are elder punks now
The first of the punk rockers
A youthful explosion…

001

March 28, 2018

Last night’s dream

The dream was long but what I remember is we had a big back yard. In the back yard were big beautiful old trees. So big that artists would come to visit so they could sit under the trees. They’d sit under the shade of the old trees and make art. They enjoyed the big trees. Two people I knew came to visit us. Two old friends I knew in my rebellious youth when I had a punk fanzine. Band members I championed as we grew from youth to adulthood. First was Mike Palm. He was sleeping under one of the trees. I saw him there. Next son said that another one came to the door. He went back to the big trees. He told son he knew me. Son let him in and he went to the trees. He had his painting art supplies and a sleeping bad rolled up behind him. I went back and saw that it was Mike Ness . He smiled warmly at me. I felt all those friendship, close, intimate feelings come back to my heart. The feelings of loyalty and belonging to something bigger than ourselves.  He was fine. So, I left him alone under one of the old trees. In the house I made him a sandwich. We always made sandwiches for our art guests.

Dreams like this hurt me. I still somehow feel connected to these punk charmers of my youth. They made a big impression on me. I still love them both so much. Though our lives are not intermingled as they once were. They are still beholding to me. They hold value in myself, my psyche. It is nice when they come to visit, even if only in my dreams.

I wonder if they ever find my face smiling up at them in their elder punk dreams. I hope so… somehow there is still a heartfelt remembrance and shared values from our youthful rebellious days. Long gone by days…that we all share together.


Vesta Image

I have enrolled a new image for The Seminary of Praying Mantis. She is Vesta.

“In her role as sister. Vesta represents the principle of focus and commitment. She functions as autonomous self-identity transforming creative energies into purifying and integrating personal circuitry.” ~ Demetra George & Douglas Bloch