Jazzy Love Theme Spartacus

Varinia and Spartacus’s love song resonates through the ages, embodying a profound connection that serves as a backdrop to their epic tale.

Yet it brings forth many myths and stories of the love of a woman and her man, illustrating the timeless struggle between the heart’s desires and the harsh realities of life.

Their bond is not merely a romantic ideal; it symbolizes a fierce rebellion against oppression, where the struggle for freedom intertwines with the yearning for love.

In the face of insurmountable odds, their love becomes a powerful anthem of hope, inspiring others to dream of liberation and the unbreakable ties that bind two souls together in the pursuit of a shared destiny.

Spartacus 1960

The focus here is on the Love Theme in this film announcing and following throughout the film about the love between Spartacus and Varinia. They are both slaves of the Roman Empire and so history unfolds.

A remarkable love story and theme song that has haunted me my whole life. Here is a jazz interpretation of the Love Theme of Spartacus by Lalo Schifrin!!

Varinia and Spartacus

If you have not seen this film, you must! It is directed by Stanley Kubrick which always guarantees an interesting experience. A film is always enhanced by a good musical score or soundtrack.

Spartacus is a master at this. The original score for Spartacus was composed and conducted by Alex North. Kirk Douglas produces the film.

Originally, Howard Fast was hired to adapt his own novel as a screenplay, but he had difficulty working in the format. He was replaced by Dalton Trumbo, who had been blacklisted as one of the Hollywood Ten. Douglas insisted that Trumbo be given screen credit for his work, which helped to break the blacklist.

Isis Goddess and Osiris

https://egypt-museum.com/statuette-representing-isis-and-osiris

Rocketdyne and Mission Burrito

The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.

~ Alan Watts

Those eerie, wild feelings of youth have not changed !! A few local words and yes it is offbeat and serendipitous… thank you!!

Our local Orchard Supply went out of business and now the local Albertsons. I understand that life is change, but does community have to change too: at this particular time in my life? The routine and getting to know people is an art form that takes some work. Unaccepted waves wash this all away. Yet, Mission Burrito is open again!

A UFO flew over the valley last Friday. It seems even though the Rocketdyne property is being sold, the aliens don’t seem to know this yet. They are flying over it as they always have: since my youth. I remember the rocket testing, the sonic booms and Friday alarms. It sounded like the end of the world!!

Rocketdyne

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rocketdyne

Satire at its best…

“…And wit. And, finally, satirists, who are needed as truth is needed-for is not satire, simply, truth grinning in a solemn canting world? “

~ Gore Vidal, United States Essays 1952-1992 Pg. 30

Make Mine Mink:

Nanette Parry

The most delightful character in Make Mine Mink is character actress Hattie Jacques who plays Nanette Parry. Her facial expressions are simply marvelous darling. I want to watch the film repeatedly just to study her facial expressions.

This whimsical, funny, and thrilling film is a must see for all. It is offbeat and hilarious. Terry Thomas was at his best. The film is about how some unusual characters get together for bizarre reasons. The motif of the film sounds like something that might be tried today, which is to take from the rich and give to the poor…or your favorite charity.

A British “B” film that is in your face humor with an excellent soundtrack that will make you laugh, giggle, and spill your coffee.

Satire at its best…yes…I would say so!!

Lionel Spanager: [Speaking to his wife concerning his “barmy” mother-in-law]

Why don’t you put her to sleep?

[His wife looks shocked]

Lionel Spanager:

I mean take her to bed!

Day 7 off the Holy of Holies

Still & Quiet

Hummingbird is sitting on a branch

Looking around

Long thin beak

I heard a chirp too

Hummingbird quiet on a branch.

Today is a new moon

Like a vacuum it pulls

But like the humming bird

I will be still and quiet

Looking around…

Waiting for the time

To spontaneously vibrate my wings

And take off.

~ Poem By Hudley

The Hierarchy of Libra rules this day of the new moon.

“The human body center correlating with Libra is to be found in the adrenal glands. These glands, when functioning properly, create absolute physical and psychological balance through each organ and it’s processes.”

Pg. 15 Corinne Heline

“May the element of space not rise up as an enemy,

may I see the realm of the blue Buddha.

May the element of water not rise up as enemy,

May I see the realm of the white Buddha.

May the element of earth not rise up as an enemy,

May I see the realm of the yellow Buddha.

May the element of fire not rise up as an enemy,

May I see the realm of the red Buddha.

May the element of air not rise up as an enemy,

May I see the green Buddhas.

May the rainbow of the elements not rise up as enemies,

May I see the realms of all the Buddhas.

May the sounds, lights and rays not rise up as enemies,

May I see the infinite realms of the Peaceful and Wrathful Ones.

May I know all the sounds as my own sound,

May I know all lights as my own light

May I know all the rays as my own ray.

May I spontaneously know the bardo as myself,

May I attain the realms of the three Kayas. “

~Pg. 101-2, The Tibetan Book of The Dead, Francesca Fremantle & Chogyam Trungpa

Day five of the Holy Days of Christmas…

Today is ruled by the Hierarchy of Leo. I think upon Aslan from The Chronicles of Narnia as the perfect symbol of this type of love, compassion and loudness.

“Wrong will be right,

when Aslan comes in sight,

At the sound of his roar,

sorrows will be no more,

When he bares his teeth,

winter meets its death,

And when he shakes his mane,

we shall have spring again.”

― C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe

LOVE is the fulfilling of the law ~ Romans 13:10

Think how paradoxical this seems in our world ?

Day three of the Holy days

The hierarchy of Gemini illuminates our hands today.

A Flower…Mom, camera and Holly 1990’s by Hudley

“They are to be visualized as flower centers, fragrant, luminous and endowed with the precious gifts of healing, and bestowing benediction” Pg. 11

Yet maybe a nice hug or pat on the back might be more down to earth and human. Anything that we do with our hands we can make it a caring or creative gesture; A moment of conscious awareness in action.

“Be still and Know that I am Goddess [God].” Psalm 46:10

Maia, is the Goddess of May the hierarchy of Gemini.

“Romeo:

If I profane with my unworthiest hand

This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:

My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand

To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.

Juliet:

Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,

Which mannerly devotion shows in this;

For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch,

And palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.

Romeo:

Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?

Juliet:

Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.

Romeo:

O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;

They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.

Juliet:

Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.

Romeo:

Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take.

Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.

Juliet:

Then have my lips the sin that they have took.

Romeo:

Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!

Give me my sin again.”

― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Living Dead Hands

I am still riding the wave of the flu. Today I am drinking some Burgundy wine in a small crystal glass. The warmth of the drink warms me along with the fire in the fireplace. Even though a son follows me around the house and laughs as he touches my arm with his cold “living dead hands”… we laugh and I have time to write the daily WordPress prompt.

When I reflect and look over the vast amount of ways to learn I focus on individuals more than an educational system. The people I respect and learn from are those that learn by their own means. I often reflect on the MASTERS OF HUMAN LIFE… William Blake, Thomas Paine and Carl Jung.

Though Carl Jung had a vast and strong academic education he also had a separate very independent education going on at the same time.

“Reading and reflecting” is what suits me best because social stimuli and peer pressure both turn me off. I read books by many different authors on many different subjects. I like it this way best because I can set my own inward goals. I am not studying to be a doctor, nurse or accountant or engineer. I am a philosopher.

My chosen field is love, I am a philosopher of love.

I have been through university study and I learned a great deal. I find that politics get involved as one climbs higher in the education system.

Child’s play. I guess one has to really desire it. If the love of your chosen field is a love that is worth the sacrifices ; such as your identity. At times it is… but for me it is not a valid argument anymore. I say no,

The greatest reward is to study on ones own and come to knowledge on your own terms. A good grade, an acknowledged pat on the back from a friend is just not the same. I never feel alone while reading a book, researching a subject, listening to music or when writing… but I often feel alone and frustrated around people because they are awkward at loving what they say they love and are so darn weird.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/12/08/learning-style/

Do Corporations Drink A Guinness too?

Under a new moon, feverish and hearing the call of revolution Mr. Fuck inspires us again….

Their little hearts mock others.

Punk Rock Colleague & Historian and Professional Consultant

Hudley Flipside

Relevant ~bearing upon or connected with the matter in hand; pertinent: a relevant remark.

Image of HUD in San Fransico by Pete Landswick. 1979

In an exclusive group a relevant remark may be very pertinent to the matter at hand but to the rest of us it is not. It is the opposite of inclusive. Though I am a private person I am also an inclusive one. When comments are exclusive, they warp on the matter of firm context to the rest of us. People that do this are like little gerbils in the corner mocking others because of their lack of intelligence or the ability to communicate properly. Their little hearts mock others.

Today a friend asked me if the Flipside Memorial page on Facebook is relevant. My first response was to what? It is a memorial page because the fanzine has not been published for 13 years. Joe and Ed wanted to create a place to share memories of Flipside Fanzine, workers on the fanzine and the early punk scene in general. They were riding the beginning of the old school punk rock nostalgia of the Big Punk Rock. Joe’s focus is on the late 80s and the early 90s. Ed I assume was more weaved into the 90s but was not a hardcore member of the Fanzine by any means. They both helped indeed, I am not denying that.

Yet, do they have a deep exclusive understanding of the heart of the magazine? I have to yell out,

“no fucking way!”

This is where the Flipside Memorial Facebook page is lacking. They superficially dip into the realm of Flipside to protrude some sort of authority. They control rather than inform. They mock and delight in shocking others instead of illuminating fans about the underground punk’s scene. I agree that many images and insights from fans on the Flipside Memorial Facebook site can be fun. It does bring back some of those good old feelings, but It does not take the place of the real deal. Not even close.

The creators of the Flipside Memorial page have a diabolical hand in posting some very disturbing posts. Ones that made me disassociate with it. I only view their page if a friend shares a post with something pertaining to the Flipside Memorial page. I contributed images and comments there at one time but not anymore. You judge for yourself.

The Flipside Memorial page brings friends together and this is a great thing. I can forgive Mr. Joe and Ed and move on…which is what I have done for the last couple of years. In comparison I created The Seminary of Praying Mantis Publishing which also includes memories of Flipside Fanzine. I make it inclusively relevant to the growing old school punk nostalgia, which I call THE BIG PUNK ROCK. People like it and do respond to these posts more than other ones that I write. A global community that is truly bitchin’.

I am cursed by Flipside Fanzine and Punk rock in general. It isn’t what it used to be, and it is always barking at my heels to be remembered. I am not saturated in it anymore. I pick and choose. I feel no more accountability to it. I try to make this site relative to the past, present and future from my perspective in life. Sorry folks, it isn’t always about the BIG PUNK ROCK… but it is honest and I love publishing it like I loved publishing Flipside Fanzine.

In memory of Shane Williams and Pat Fear (Bill Bartell) true comrades and mentors of punk rock.

Unsquare Uncup

The writer prefers using Yahoo for searches. After shopping and bringing groceries to the car, they went online to find a jazz song called Unsquare Dance by the Dave Brubeck Quartet, which they heard on KJazz 88.1 FM around 7:40 am. While doing this, they noticed a man in an SUV, aged 45 to 50, taking a picture of them, which they found creepy.

Does the Eagle know what is in the pit?

Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?

Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod?

Or Love in a golden bowl?

The Book of Thel, Thel’s Motto

(1789–1792)

~ William Blake

Resurrection flowers of a waxing moon on November 2013. Last years flowers are looking mighty good this year…

I eat meat, fish and vegetables. My philosophy is~ we have all killed and been killed; we have all eaten and been eaten. This is the continuity of life, death and rebirth and today I feel like shining. I hope to do it a little bit better each time around.

Before I looked up this song and after I went shopping and put my grocers in the car seeing a strange man take a picture of me; I went crazy in the kitchen. I cooked up some scallops , sesame seeds, yellow squash and zucchini.

I made black forest bacon and scallops without wooden spears to make my treat. I highlighted this all with some San Luis Obispo garlic sourdough bread and a uncap of my favorite coffee; Java Delight Donut Shop.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/11/06/daily-prompt-searching/

Bobbing at the top of the waters of the LETHE. Review of Push the Sky Away ~Nick Cave and The Bad Seeds

Punk Rock Historian and Professional Consultant

Hudley Flipside

“…And here I come to the hill

I’m pushing my own wheel of love

I got love in my tummy and a tiny little pain…”

I have not bought an album in some time. We used to have an iTunes account. I don’t know if anyone notices the music posts that I use quite a lot from Nick Cave and The Bad Seed’s new album Push the Sky Away? It is about time again when I reward my kids and myself with the instant gratification of music. I feel that I have been using so many YouTube songs for free that it is about time to pay the piper.

I don’t feel comfortable ripping others off or taking things for free if an artist worked hard to create something beautiful.

Push The Sky Away is beautiful to me. I am enchanted by this album: The lyrics, music and singing by Nick Cave are pulling at my belly; bringing forth feelings that I have lost in the real world. He has become my musical companion of the netherworld. He inspires my dry and jaded libido as the rain, wind and the sea do. He speaks from the deep unconscious of longing and love.

Nick Cave is an expert in archetypal resurrection.

Son hot-burned some CDs for our flying machine on the way to and from school. While driving home and listening to the full album, I felt as if I was hovering over the dark asphalt streets. As a jet takes-off; I felt that feeling as if riding on a swing where I almost took off to the rain clouds above.

Nick Cave is a man from my generation and from the same rebellion. As we engage in this collective aging, I hear his wisdom!

I know where he is!

He is at the same magic place of life. Yes, it is really magic! Nick’s music makes us slow down to listen and wonder. I cry with a wonderful longing that I have not felt in a long time.

“It gets you right down to your soul!”

Day of the Dead Number One to Remember.

William Blake’s Death Mask

Without contraries is no progression. Attraction and repulsion, reason and energy, love and hate, are necessary to human existence.

~ William Blake

Lynn’s lycanthropy biting at our heels

I love this time of the year… moving into it like a wild cloak of wonder; Crones, screams and laughter; cinnamon, chills and the first full moon of Autumn in the wilds of October. I also honor Lynn now… this is her time.

Me and Lynn in that order 1980

You’ve done terrible things… be strong.

The dark, Halloween and the shadow… here we go again. My best friend, who years ago, before she turned fifty, was my champion of scary and forbidden places. She was a true wild and free soul and lived life by the seat of her pants. Lynn could never break the mold of her youthful lust for life. Even love could not bind her beyond her desire for a type of youthful fulfillment. This time of the year was our time. We ran with the blaspheme of the night with lycanthropy biting at our heels.

My mind now circles with Ouija boards, horror stories and of the film Suspiria.

She led me to depths… depths I dare not always follow! It is hard to understand that Lynn is gone from me now!

She sometimes stands beyond the darkness. At such altered times I catch her memory…the few breaths between twilight and darkness. I feel a longing pain, a need to run with her by way of the hills of our youth. Ah… but she is free now from this aging of these memories….

Many years I have celebrated the first full moon of Autumn in October with this song…until I die…!!

Saturn is a hermaphrodite!!

November 2017

“The World represents the ultimate in individual achievement. It is symbolized by a naked, dancing figure, a hermaphrodite”

~ The Saturn / Pluto Phenomenon by Joy Michand

Over reading this. I think the monster may have been Pluto. Saturn in a female form and Pluto in his ugliest! Now working through both and listening to their stories. I am in awe of both of their transformational abilities. Within us they help us to balance our hermaphrodite natures. I think the war happening in our current American culture is a force to be reckoned with. Male and female wise…. that is!

I am studying and reading about Saturn: the mythology, history, archetypal, astrological; and even jumped into some depth psychology and esoteric merging. Saturn could be a God or a Goddess because through meditation he reveals to me himself, as her, that looked and spoke a lot like Lana Turner.

Lana Turner is a strong-willed dame that is morally together. She does not jump fences for men and knows herself. She is accountable, beautiful, smart and karma incarnate. Saturn manifesting himself as Miss Turner in my imagination is good.

My dream embraces a different aspect of Saturn than from my walking imagination. I found myself in a dark horror film. Blood and gore galore heightened my awareness. Dark opaque shiny metal and a large pool table caught my attention. A monster had already taken and killed three of my friends. I looked across the pool table and a light above was moving back and forth.

I grabbed a large katana blade and was swinging it around and around back and forth. I was keeping the monster from me. I heard the knife through the air and looked at his massive body. His shadow was darker still over the pool table. The monster’s head was black as death might be. No head. Terrified, I awoke.

My eyes opened to the thought that I had to post this to help me understand what I was seeing in this dark dream. I think it was Saturn’s shadow. Now together with Miss Turner I now know I am dealing with a God / Goddess. a hermaphrodite.

Woven

I remember for 20 buck I could buy a wardrobe of clothing: mix and match fashion and then add something of my own.

“Hope is the golden thread that should be woven into every experience of life,”

Fashion is superficial. The competitive world of contemporary fashion bores me. I rebel against it. Yet now the fashion industry has taken that rebellious look and ripped it off and now reproduces it in India, China or Mexico, taking the sacredness away from its clothing message.

This is always the case. It is a matter of quality over quantity. Lots of women dress to be a fuckable target for men. Let them.

There was a time, as stated in many fairy tales, where it was a woman’s life to weave the family clothing. As soon as they could, little girls learned to weave.

“So, this is what they did with their time?” Little lamb said to her mama.

“Yes, but it left time to dream!”

“What did they dream of?”

“They dreamed of weaving golden threads and finding a beautiful Prince?”

“Is that all?”

“No, they also planned out their day.”

The Great Giveaway…

Wade Davis: The Worldwide Web of Belief and Ritual (19:12)

When one consciously practices the ritual of the Great Giveaway one prepares for new things, opportunities and friends to come ones way on this mysterious journey we call life.

In the American Indian tradition the Great Giveaway is something you do with all the things that you no longer use or need; but some may call it junk. Toys, books and clothing but it can also include friends, family and beliefs. Son is turning 13 this year. I looked in his tight room and told him this,

“OK it is time to clear out the sides of your room!!”

He has several plastic containers filled with toys of all kinds. I told him I was not going to do it. So it took him some time to go through it. Some of the toys he put into the garage for observation and a future day to let go of these items, and a few plastic bags contained toys and things that we would take to the local Salvation Army. Our Salvation Army is a drive up. It is easy and the people who work there are angels. I told the workers that my son was turning 13 in a few mouths and that he was ready to let go of some stuff. I told him that these toys were still in good shape. The worker said this,

“Well son life gets better when you turn 13. It is going to be a great time for you son!!”

As we drove away we listened to the local 88.5 kcsn FM. It feels good to let go of the toys but it also tells me that the time is coming to let go of my little boy. The time of teenager is here.

Another story about Junk is when I called the bulky Item pick up to pick up some things: an old basketball stand and hoop, old metal ladders and a Golds Gym trapped in the garage. To our surprise Thursday evening before trash pickup was the best time to practice the Great Giveaway. No sooner had we put something out in-front of the house that three or four truck collectors were there to take it away. They came into the garage and immediately took apart the gym in moments. It was amazing to see. In the morning the real unusable junk was taken away by the city.

http://www.kcsn.org/

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/09/29/daily-prompt-junk/

Brother butt is it art?

Comic relief… and the side kick Mr. Fuck still lives in our bomb shelter. He comes out once in a while when he needs things like a shot of whiskey or some split pea soup.

I remember one day waiting for the stores to open. I was parked in-front of an Art Store. I knew the joint was closed but watched a guy go up to the door and pull on it.

Before he did this he tossed his cigarette butt to the ground. Once he found out the place was closed he went looking for it on the dirty asphalt jungle street.

I watched as he looked for it, found it and picked it up. It was still hot and he walked away smoking it. This image is inspired by the man and the cigarette butt…

Glory hallelujah!!

FLopside Comcis Extreme, thrilling, and risky – The Seminary of Praying Mantis Publishing

Rock Fight Curated By Timothy White

The event was a dualistic creative assembly of many works from photographers,

or …

A pub is where the heart is, in case you have lost it.

Been staying local for some time but territorial pissing can be a drag, so tonight was a dash to do something different on a whim.

An invitation, art and continuity of friendship aroused those taking a risk feeling again.

Yes, the 101 freeway was heavy with traffic at 5:30 PM; but we could use the extra time to find a place to park.

Easing the stress with a pint before the event is always a reasonably social thing to do. So around the corner was a delightful Pub with a kind hearted giant bouncer hanging outside the door.

Guinness will do thank you or maybe a Firestone.

We arrived there early but the rats from the press smelled the cheese first. When we came back to the event a bouncer was courteous and remembered us.

The photographs were large, clean, and in your face. The general motif was a compare and contrast between boxers and musicians. The event was a dualistic creative assembly of many works from photographers.

The building was rather small but was filled to the rim with a mixture of all ages; video cameras and technology galore with the usual turned up nose.

The heart the host lacked must have been misplaced, even though he gets credit for being accessible.

I watched as youngsters bathed in his lecturing discourse like he was a professor of something. I gave him a handshake and hug.

He didn’t seem to understand that the images on the wall were all from 25 something or more years ago, just like both of us.

The heart the host lacked must have been misplaced because the bouncer at the pub around the corner had a heart. He glowed with integrity, muse, and love.

Yes, lost by the host of this event. Too bad because overall we had a great time.

I am getting a taste in my mouth for another event like this one…soon.

Carlos Palomino In Training by Theo Ehret. and Mike Ness by Edward Colver

George Foreman Training for The Rumble In The Jungle by Theo Ehret and Iggy Pop by Ebet Roberts.

Host without a Heart Henry Rollins

Hedgemon Lewis and Armando Through The Ropes by Theo Ehrel and Elton John by Berrie Wentzell

Sid Vicious By Bob Gruen, Dallas circa 1978.

Mil Mascaras The Original Luchadore by Theo Ehret and Debbie Harry/ Pink by Bob Gruen

All images of this event are taken by Hudley Flipside edited to black and white for this layout only, The original images are full color. Except for the heartless one.

Crossing the Threshold of the Stairs

Stairs at Mom and Dad’s Photo by Gus Hudson

A home holds many memories. Mom told me once,

“The stairs are part of my exercise routine.”

I wonder how many times mom cleaned the stairs? Now she is free of that! No more worrying about stains on the stairs or if the kids are going to fall down them anymore.

My paternal grandmother couldn’t walk down them, so she slid down them on her behind.

Then there were the paper racing cars on paper tracks that raced down those stairs.

I remember when sixteen a brother chasing me up the stairs while grasping and ripping my only persimmon colored cashmere sweater. I guess I had done something nasty to him at the time.

What lurked at the top of the stairs?

Siblings and fights and running up the stairs and out the door.

I did that lots. Looking to the top of the stairs at night was a scary adventure because I had to go up there alone.

What lurked at the top of the stairs? My youngest child still looks up there with the same wonderful fear as I did.

Mom and a brother told me about the shadows at night that walked the stairs. They may still be there tonight.

A child hearing the distant sound of a pack of wild coyotes screaming in the night.

This was not a dream because as a child I heard and then saw the parade of music and fairies dancing up the stairs passing through my bedroom into the boy’s room.

I know the floating white ghost came from the stairs.

This all started with the sounds of the night. Waking up as a child and hearing the distant sound of a pack of wild coyotes screaming in the night.

moon light might shine through

For siblings crossing the threshold of the stairs; going up and down them was a common part of life.

Above the stairs is a window that lit up the stairs during the day and at night the moonlight might shine through.

Then there were the mysterious shining multicolored lights from alien mother ships; they turned on as fast as a light switch. Yes, at the very same window and at the bottom of the stairs. This was their point of vortex vertex contact.

holy as gold, frankincense and myrrh

During the holiday and Christmas season, Dad would staple large tree branches highlighting the stairs mixed with holiday lights.

Perfuming the air with the smell of Xmas trees as holy as gold, frankincense, and myrrh only to be overcome by the smell of booze, cigars, and food.

Punk Chicks Dee and Hilda

Al, Hud and Dee

https://www.facebook.com/hilda.unapproved

If I never said thank you, I am saying it now, thank you!!

While going through some pictures on a PhotoBucket account I found a picture that I thought was lost. It is of Flipside Fanzine staph writers Dee (RIP) and Hilda. These punk chicks were the heart of the scene. They loved it, loved the music, and knew all the key players.

They were not rude or nasty like some of the other punk women; they were friendly and part of my female initiation into an underground music scene.

If I never said thank you, I’m saying it now, thank you!!

Today I’m including this picture in my ongoing article about those who worked on Flipside Fanzine. We had a great time!!