I was still hanging at the 'bookstore' a lot. i had made a great friend there. a fairly well to do guy named Mitch. He was a handsome and out going personality to say the least. he and i wee both ' hardcore regulars at the place and had two choices...be bitter competitive enemie bitches, or be friendly and try to get along. we choose the latter. Mitch was a really interesting guy. from a small mid western town.moved to the big city and had tons of way out experances. ended up in a great job and made tons of money one day we were talking and he ask if i wanted to go get a beer, of course i said yes. we both had seen a little bar on the corner of Pacific and Broadway called Mr Bings. we headed down the hill and began what would be a 10 year 'stool warming' at the greatest bar ever. the place was a mix of North Beach, China Town, and tourist. Mitch and i sat there for hours and talked and drank. His money seemed to be endless and he paid for every beer. he could tell a story and loved to talk. he and i became really good friends. now and then one of us would run up the hill to see if any action was happening at the 'store'. if too much time passed and the other was left at the bar, you can bet nerves were on edge and only seeing the other coming back could calm u down. it was a blast .
tons of sailors who were on leave ended up at Mr Bings. For some reason North Beach was a place for navy guys to gather and drink. maybe it was the strip clubs and adult video dives.Mitch would shamelessly flirt and buy them beers. i guess i did a bit of flirting myself. it was fun to watch them get drunk and steer them up to the bookstore. some went and some didn't . either way we all had fun. lots of people walking by the open door recognized me from the band. i loved that. sometimes crazy people that knew me would also come in and just sort of stand there and creep me out. but for the most part it was the bliss of drinking and laughing and sex all with in a few yards of each other.
Kevin had seen Sister Double Happiness a few times now We had even gone to LA and played One of the problems Warner's had with us was defining us and Kevin hated our first album on SST. He thought it was so bad that if the other executives at Warner heard it they would never sign us. that was odd to me. we were an independent band on an indy label and recorded an album and mixed it in 48 hours and he thought it so bad that he was not letting anyone hear it. I like Kevin, though. but it was always a lopsided relationship. he was clearly going to be the one with the power and we were the band. He was funny, though. we made each other laugh a lot. Debbie called one day to tell me a tribute to Roky Erickson was being recorded and we might be able to be on it. Roky was is pretty bad shape and a big fan of his at Warner's , Bill Bennit, was in charge of it. I found out REM and ZZ Top were two of the bands going to be on it..kevin went to bat for us and before long we found out we had made it! and the song we wanted, Red Temple Prayer--Two Headed Dog was ours if we wanted to do it. What a dream! Keving bookeed Hyde St. Studio and we had a time block of four days to record and mix. Before any of that, though we had to do pre production...which just means practice out asses off. getting the arrangement we wanted and deciding how to approach the song. It was pretty smooth working with Kevin on it. we wanted to do it hard but add sounds and tempos that would set us apart on the song. Kevin worked with us very close and had some great ideas. I thought he was pretty good in his moving in to the band and his comfort in giving opinions to a band that had been together for a couple of years and we had only known him a few months. However it was working and it was fun. i was learning that a lot of discipline was needed to keep my voice working smooth for a whole recording session. drinking was not a good thing. hot tea was. i hated hot tea then and loved cold beer so it was a big problem. i smoked a few cigarettes a day but had to stop. every one of us was going through his or her own victorys or problems learning how to really get serious about the recording process. just before we recorded we got the news that Kevin did indeed want to sign us and Warners would do it if he gave the word. Red flags certenly should have gone up when we were told the deal was in cement if Kevin was given the job of producing our first cd. oh, boy. even though this it's not unheard of it' a little dangerous to do. if their is a problem during recording it's the AnR person the band goes to for support or help. however as time passed and we spent more time with Kevin the more I liked him.
getting ready to sign with a major label was a funny thing. going to the Warner's complex in Burbank, Ca. with the men in suits and coolsters gone cooperate was always a trip. guards everywhere, and lots of people ready to help you spend the money you might just make them. oh so weird. but i loved a lot of it. even if they ere phony, the big shots were very friendly to you. phony is a word not used much around the place. I will say, though, I also met some very real and loving people People who loved music and were in positions of making and breaking other people. LA was fun on this trip down. we all piled up and were staying in Debbie's little apartment. Poor Mikey. he was hving trouble th whole trip.. as soon as we got back we were going to record the track for the Roky tribute cd...in the mean time we had decided to play LAA, meet th new lawyerthat was going to represent us, then drive to Texas and play a few shows. Mikey got sick, though. i was so stupid i didn't know why he was in puking in the bath room of Debbie's before we were leaving to go meet out new attorney. I kept knocking at the bathroom door, "Mikey, are you alright?". on the way down to Hollywood he kept nodding out and dropping his cigarette. i figured out what was going on and got super pissed. i'm not perfect and thought it was fucking disrespectful for him to hav gotten high when the our wholee futhur was right there in front of us. he decided not to go in with us. the lawyer was Rosemary carroll...ex wife of jim Carroll. i compleatly agreed tht if didn't want to go in to met her it was fine with me. Maybe nodding off during the meeting might be the wrong impression.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
I was back in San Francisco and I was ready to do music. When we restarted SDH after my time away from the band it seemed to be a perfect time for us. we had our first practice and all were happy to be playing again. During out time apart not only did i go my thing, but Ben had stopped drinking and other getting high stuff. he was healthy and he and i made new efforts to get along and work together. He and i were as different people as anyone could imagine. we both had a lot of respect for each other and this made it possible for us to play together.we never really socialized at all. i remember once thinking that it might be nice to hang out sometime and try to cultivate out friendship. this is before he stopped drinking so i called him up one after noon and asked him, "hey. Ben what are you up to?"
:Oh, gary....uhh, well nothing"
"I was wondering if you wanted to go get a beer somewhere"
all he sad was "why?"
i said "well, i guess just to get a beer. nothing else".
"well, i don't understand...why?"
ok...so i just got pissed and we never went for a beer. i realized we would be band mates and that's all and that s the was it was for out entire time in the band. this does not mean we were not close, but it was close in a guarded way. we laughed and fought and created what i think was great music together. I found Ben the best at listening to my ideas of what i wanted to hear on guitar and playing it for me exactly as i heard it. he would very patently listen and put it to music. Mikey was still playing great but bigger problemms were touching his life. He really was one of the sweetest people i ever met but some inner saddnes made him look in the wrong places to fill up the sad spots. i feel no need to go deep into the problems Mikey had except to say i loved him and he played bass better than most people i have ever heard. He defined out sound during this peroid.
Lynn Perko. My sister. my dear friend. when Lynn joined the California version of the Dicks she was still a bit of an awkward girl growing into a woman. and did she ever grow. i watched Lynn become one of the most beautiful women i have ever seen. One of the most dedicated musicians and hardest pounding, or gentle drummers ever. we love each other till this very day.
The other member of the band was Debbie Gordon. my best girl friend and one time manager of the Dicks. Debbie and i were a crazy sister and brother-best friend pair. during the time i had left the band Debbie had not only been the manager of Alternative Tentacles records, or as i call it...Jello's label. She had gotten a job at Warner Brothers n LA. Funny how one of her so called best friends denounced her for selling out and going to work at a major label. This same phony soon became a millionaire running her own record label. Creating a punk rock empire firmly cracking the whip to keep her myrmidons in order. People are funny.
Debbie could not be our manage anymore because she was a Warner employee. but i did ask her advice now and then and she was helpful when she could be. We were playing and writing and would practice at least three times a week. People started acting real nice when they would recognize me. During this time i met up with a nice guy who tole me to check out a bar south of Market called My Place. i had lost some weight but was still looked at as a fat guy. My friend told me My Place was very friendly to big guys and i would like it. well i told Phillip and that night we headed to My Place and it was pretty cool. the best news though i found out about was the Lone Star saloon and the Bear movement. ah--the Bears!
I had never been a popular guy in queer bars because either i was a hippie looking long haired weird-o back in the day, or a punk Mohawk haired wild nut or fat. fat being the real reason. the main stream queen worked 24 hours a day to look the right way. a way to attract guys who looked like himself. the fat queer spent years dealing with being either the super cattie sharp tonged queen or some lonely chub in the dark corner or the bar. finding a fat fiendly gay bar was rare. Phillip and i loved hanging out and drinking together but i hardly ever went to a gay bar with him due to me choosing the weird punk looks i came up with and being fat. not just fat, but more like in your face fat. so when we found the extreamly welcoming Bear culture growing on Harrison St. in the Lone Star i was thrilled. The bartenders, at the time were the nicest guys in the world. as Sister was in the papers a lot people there recognized me and that was a plus. going from ugly fat ass to a welcomed popular item was unbelievable. this pretty much meant i was there every night. when SDH did shows around town lots of the guys would come. once when we did a show at the Great American Music Hall one of our roadies came back to tell me "Don't be nervous, but there are lots of pretty rough bikers in the crowd...right up front". i went to peek and it was about 30 or more of the Lone star guys i had met or seen hanging out there. i told Kyle, the best roadie in the world, " i think things will be ok". i was never a big "fuck everybody in the bar" type so i was able to keep things friendly and easy. I was getting drunk at least 4 or five times a week. but loving it.
One day Debbie called and tole me one of the A abd R guys at Warners was interested in coming to see us play. he had heard a tape and out first album and wanted to see how we played live. we were ral excited and since we had a show coming up we spent extra time practicing and getting into the mind set of beint 'watched' by a record executive. i thought back of a show the Dicks had done in Houston way back in 81. i was hailed as one of the best hows ever at the island...so said Ronnie Bond of Really Red...Glen broke a string on th first song and was so drunk he sat on the stage for most of the show trying to change it. Buxf had a beer bottle and was running it up and down the bas neck over and over and over while Pat was doing the 'naw-jaw' speed clenched teeth and beating the drums out there on his own....i walked around on the stage cussing and blabbling about the communist and queers and so on. th entire show was nuts and we had a great time. oh, how times had changed. now one guy in the crowd was someone who could change our lives. if he had seen the Dick's in Houston he might have been a different kind of guy. a few diffrent a/r people came during this time to see us. one from Rough Trade, one from somewhere else....i thought most of them were big headed and on power trips to promote themselves and really could not care less about us or music. that night Kevin came into Laffee came into our lives.
:Oh, gary....uhh, well nothing"
"I was wondering if you wanted to go get a beer somewhere"
all he sad was "why?"
i said "well, i guess just to get a beer. nothing else".
"well, i don't understand...why?"
ok...so i just got pissed and we never went for a beer. i realized we would be band mates and that's all and that s the was it was for out entire time in the band. this does not mean we were not close, but it was close in a guarded way. we laughed and fought and created what i think was great music together. I found Ben the best at listening to my ideas of what i wanted to hear on guitar and playing it for me exactly as i heard it. he would very patently listen and put it to music. Mikey was still playing great but bigger problemms were touching his life. He really was one of the sweetest people i ever met but some inner saddnes made him look in the wrong places to fill up the sad spots. i feel no need to go deep into the problems Mikey had except to say i loved him and he played bass better than most people i have ever heard. He defined out sound during this peroid.
Lynn Perko. My sister. my dear friend. when Lynn joined the California version of the Dicks she was still a bit of an awkward girl growing into a woman. and did she ever grow. i watched Lynn become one of the most beautiful women i have ever seen. One of the most dedicated musicians and hardest pounding, or gentle drummers ever. we love each other till this very day.
The other member of the band was Debbie Gordon. my best girl friend and one time manager of the Dicks. Debbie and i were a crazy sister and brother-best friend pair. during the time i had left the band Debbie had not only been the manager of Alternative Tentacles records, or as i call it...Jello's label. She had gotten a job at Warner Brothers n LA. Funny how one of her so called best friends denounced her for selling out and going to work at a major label. This same phony soon became a millionaire running her own record label. Creating a punk rock empire firmly cracking the whip to keep her myrmidons in order. People are funny.
Debbie could not be our manage anymore because she was a Warner employee. but i did ask her advice now and then and she was helpful when she could be. We were playing and writing and would practice at least three times a week. People started acting real nice when they would recognize me. During this time i met up with a nice guy who tole me to check out a bar south of Market called My Place. i had lost some weight but was still looked at as a fat guy. My friend told me My Place was very friendly to big guys and i would like it. well i told Phillip and that night we headed to My Place and it was pretty cool. the best news though i found out about was the Lone Star saloon and the Bear movement. ah--the Bears!
I had never been a popular guy in queer bars because either i was a hippie looking long haired weird-o back in the day, or a punk Mohawk haired wild nut or fat. fat being the real reason. the main stream queen worked 24 hours a day to look the right way. a way to attract guys who looked like himself. the fat queer spent years dealing with being either the super cattie sharp tonged queen or some lonely chub in the dark corner or the bar. finding a fat fiendly gay bar was rare. Phillip and i loved hanging out and drinking together but i hardly ever went to a gay bar with him due to me choosing the weird punk looks i came up with and being fat. not just fat, but more like in your face fat. so when we found the extreamly welcoming Bear culture growing on Harrison St. in the Lone Star i was thrilled. The bartenders, at the time were the nicest guys in the world. as Sister was in the papers a lot people there recognized me and that was a plus. going from ugly fat ass to a welcomed popular item was unbelievable. this pretty much meant i was there every night. when SDH did shows around town lots of the guys would come. once when we did a show at the Great American Music Hall one of our roadies came back to tell me "Don't be nervous, but there are lots of pretty rough bikers in the crowd...right up front". i went to peek and it was about 30 or more of the Lone star guys i had met or seen hanging out there. i told Kyle, the best roadie in the world, " i think things will be ok". i was never a big "fuck everybody in the bar" type so i was able to keep things friendly and easy. I was getting drunk at least 4 or five times a week. but loving it.
One day Debbie called and tole me one of the A abd R guys at Warners was interested in coming to see us play. he had heard a tape and out first album and wanted to see how we played live. we were ral excited and since we had a show coming up we spent extra time practicing and getting into the mind set of beint 'watched' by a record executive. i thought back of a show the Dicks had done in Houston way back in 81. i was hailed as one of the best hows ever at the island...so said Ronnie Bond of Really Red...Glen broke a string on th first song and was so drunk he sat on the stage for most of the show trying to change it. Buxf had a beer bottle and was running it up and down the bas neck over and over and over while Pat was doing the 'naw-jaw' speed clenched teeth and beating the drums out there on his own....i walked around on the stage cussing and blabbling about the communist and queers and so on. th entire show was nuts and we had a great time. oh, how times had changed. now one guy in the crowd was someone who could change our lives. if he had seen the Dick's in Houston he might have been a different kind of guy. a few diffrent a/r people came during this time to see us. one from Rough Trade, one from somewhere else....i thought most of them were big headed and on power trips to promote themselves and really could not care less about us or music. that night Kevin came into Laffee came into our lives.
I've had people ask me how i could become religious? I don't know the real definition of the that word. I feel 'spiritual' suits me better. although that's just me. I always had a feeling with in me that a bigger 'thing' was somewhere out there but also with us. It was the same thing in and out. Our being able to tap into that 'thing' was a two way street, It was always the same--ready to take us to It's center and be our guide, but only if we took a step or two to realize it's helping nature.. the steps are what i call our own personal path. Some are taking the steps by following the Pope and going to a Catholic church, others are hooping and hollering in the Pentecostal church. I do think it it is helpful to find, as the Buddhist say, a sanga---a community of 'like thinkers' to unite with. Of course i would like to believe no one would expect or even want to be a clone of his
church or sanga fellow member. The "I am right and you are wrong" attitude is the element that has fucked up how so many of us feel about God and the path to enjoy what God is. When I hear people snarling and denouncing god and religion with much unhidden hatred i laugh to myself and think how they mush have been made to go to church and endure either the screeming preacher sending everyone to hell, or being tortured and forced to get up early on Sunday mornng and dress in clothes you hate to ware. Setting in a ritual of things you neither understand or even want to. some of the very few fights my mother and i would ever get into were the ugly Sunday morning clothes war. i would have gone easy if i could have just picked out my own clothes! not some fucking white shirt and tie and dress slacks. even to this day the very words 'dress slacks' send a chill down my spine. this has nothing to do with whatever god mght be. Jesus in dress slacks. the Buddha in a tie! Krishna in a JC Penny's summer suit. never happened. My point being we miss so much of the good and fullflling elements of God because of out past dealings with religion and church.
The great Swami Vivekananda said if there is really a Heaven there will be more atheist than belivers because theist did good for no reason...while belivers did good for the reward....(paraphrased). I love that.
I was looking for something to fill the gap i found in my life when i found Ramakrishna and the Vedanta. I knew what i was looking for but hqd no idea where to go. at the risk of sounding silly, i just let the faith of going where IT lead me tke over. All of this was much less mysterious, and more down to earth than i might make it sound. no angles singing in the background. I was lookiing though. this was my taking the steps i talked about. if you want to catch a fish you have to go to the water and put your pole out. sit and wait but at least bait the hook. you don't catch one usually by jumping in the water and hysterically grabbing. calm and steady is the way. when i first went to the little bookstore at the temple i loved it. when i first got Christopher Isherwood's book on Sri Ramakrishna and how wonderful His crazy life was. I felt like it was a personal, ongoing party for me. none of being Queer was going to stop this from moving me onward. no communist, punk rocker, dressed in drag and singing about being dead in a motel room made any difference to anyone. reading about the funny and loving and, to say the least, bazaar life of this God-man and his young followers, i fell in love with it all. this was no cult love because if you couldn't think for yourself and be a 'stand on your own two feet' person....well, you might move on. My heart had been pretty hard due to life being a rough row to hoe, but as got stronge in the ideals of these teaching my hert became softer and more loving and excepting. it can be a little hard to sing about hating people when really, i don;t hate anybody. i try to love everybody, although lots of people i love from a distance. being spiritual shouldn't make you a dumb ass...so don't go hugging stinging scorpions and kissing madmen. thinking and moving in a calm inner mode can keep you grounded and let you act like a human. meditation , or just setting down and being silent for a while is great. shut up for a few seconds...is the world going to fall apqrt if you are not talking? i offer no blue print of how to do this. you can find 10,000 other people to tell you how to meditate. of just find it out for your self. you can start with the simple method of just being alone with in your self and being quite. O million pages have been written and millions of dollars made by teachers when this first step is the mail lesson to follow. believe me, it's hqarder than you might think. me, being quite? me?
I offer no paths to you follow or anything for you to do. being happy and feeling whole within your self is the goal. if you are, stay there. i moved only when i felt the need. never aking if it was right. it was right---for me, and i live it now.
church or sanga fellow member. The "I am right and you are wrong" attitude is the element that has fucked up how so many of us feel about God and the path to enjoy what God is. When I hear people snarling and denouncing god and religion with much unhidden hatred i laugh to myself and think how they mush have been made to go to church and endure either the screeming preacher sending everyone to hell, or being tortured and forced to get up early on Sunday mornng and dress in clothes you hate to ware. Setting in a ritual of things you neither understand or even want to. some of the very few fights my mother and i would ever get into were the ugly Sunday morning clothes war. i would have gone easy if i could have just picked out my own clothes! not some fucking white shirt and tie and dress slacks. even to this day the very words 'dress slacks' send a chill down my spine. this has nothing to do with whatever god mght be. Jesus in dress slacks. the Buddha in a tie! Krishna in a JC Penny's summer suit. never happened. My point being we miss so much of the good and fullflling elements of God because of out past dealings with religion and church.
The great Swami Vivekananda said if there is really a Heaven there will be more atheist than belivers because theist did good for no reason...while belivers did good for the reward....(paraphrased). I love that.
I was looking for something to fill the gap i found in my life when i found Ramakrishna and the Vedanta. I knew what i was looking for but hqd no idea where to go. at the risk of sounding silly, i just let the faith of going where IT lead me tke over. All of this was much less mysterious, and more down to earth than i might make it sound. no angles singing in the background. I was lookiing though. this was my taking the steps i talked about. if you want to catch a fish you have to go to the water and put your pole out. sit and wait but at least bait the hook. you don't catch one usually by jumping in the water and hysterically grabbing. calm and steady is the way. when i first went to the little bookstore at the temple i loved it. when i first got Christopher Isherwood's book on Sri Ramakrishna and how wonderful His crazy life was. I felt like it was a personal, ongoing party for me. none of being Queer was going to stop this from moving me onward. no communist, punk rocker, dressed in drag and singing about being dead in a motel room made any difference to anyone. reading about the funny and loving and, to say the least, bazaar life of this God-man and his young followers, i fell in love with it all. this was no cult love because if you couldn't think for yourself and be a 'stand on your own two feet' person....well, you might move on. My heart had been pretty hard due to life being a rough row to hoe, but as got stronge in the ideals of these teaching my hert became softer and more loving and excepting. it can be a little hard to sing about hating people when really, i don;t hate anybody. i try to love everybody, although lots of people i love from a distance. being spiritual shouldn't make you a dumb ass...so don't go hugging stinging scorpions and kissing madmen. thinking and moving in a calm inner mode can keep you grounded and let you act like a human. meditation , or just setting down and being silent for a while is great. shut up for a few seconds...is the world going to fall apqrt if you are not talking? i offer no blue print of how to do this. you can find 10,000 other people to tell you how to meditate. of just find it out for your self. you can start with the simple method of just being alone with in your self and being quite. O million pages have been written and millions of dollars made by teachers when this first step is the mail lesson to follow. believe me, it's hqarder than you might think. me, being quite? me?
I offer no paths to you follow or anything for you to do. being happy and feeling whole within your self is the goal. if you are, stay there. i moved only when i felt the need. never aking if it was right. it was right---for me, and i live it now.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
My leaving Sister Double Happiness was no small decision. It was very rough to do. we were really starting to have big shows in SF. I remember a Sunday afternoon show at the DV8 .. it was a free show that was not a usual thing for that club. the place was packed--hundreds of people had come to see us. after each song a roar came from the crowd. i was having a blast. just the right moment and i was comfortable as could be. I remember Mikey being great on stage. throwing that long hair all around as he beat the bass into a bluesy thud on each song. i was standing in front of him watching and moving my hands in unison with his. It was wonderful. after the show i was upstairs drinking at one of the bars. this was the area of Health Drinks--Brain Drinks at local clubs. Bullshit herbs and sugary stuff in huge glasses that cost a ton but people loved them. a nice girl tapped me on the shoulder to say how much she liked the show. i was always pretty nice and thanked her. turned around to see Debbie and we started yakking and in my expression to make a point moved my arm and knocked the full drink all over the poor girl. she was soaked in sweet goop and sticky crap from her expensive drink. "oh, god...I'm so sorry!" she looked like she might cry..i grabbed a towel and bought her another drink. i left her there soaked but holding a new concoction.i was broke but the day was a turning point. the next big show was at The I-Beam. since torn down and replaced with another new business in Height St. wow what a club. ran by a woman named Cathy Cohan.. another packed show and after that we were doing great. I was loving it, but i had always wanted to be a monk. funny, but true. as a child i dreamed of being a Franciscan Monk. the great St. Francis and his love of animals was my patron saint when i became a Catholic so now i had discovered Vedanta i wanted that more than anything. i had met one of the old monks at the 2500 acer retreat the society owned in Olema, Ca. His name was Sahajananda. One of the most wonderful people i have ever met. Hard working and very strict in his actions and beliefs. he was always watchful an gave the best life lessons to me in the kindest wats ever. i wanted to live at the retreat and spend my days working there and practicing meditation. Swami Prabuddhananda was a bit more realistic. he was telling that i was not used to that life and would find it very hard after the newness wore off. I, of course did not want to hear this and said no, it wqs not true. I would call Sahajananda at night and talk about how i wanted to move into the monastery. he told me to just wait and watch the situation. if it was worth doing it was worth waiting for. i also found out i was a little to old to join. solders and monks are needed to b younger. not set in their ways. but i was hard headed and wanted to do it anyway. i could move into the place and not be a real monk but live the life. i told Lynn and Ben one day i had to leave SDH. they were not too happy at the thought of the band just breaking up and me leaving. I mostly cared about Lynn. we had been playing together for a while now. she had really become like a sister to me. but at last he gave me her blessing and i left. when i told Swami Prabuddhananda he said, "hump--ok..". i thought he would jump for joy--'gary has decided to become a monk'...well, that was not the case. i was working only three days a week at the time at the shelter and the other days i was at the Vedanta. On Monday i went to Olema with the young monk Greg...the other monk i hung out with was a tall goofy guy named Bret. i stayed there till Wed. and came home for the shelter staff meeting on Wed morning . then on Wed night i went back to the Vedanta mid-week lecture to hear Swami speak. on Thursday i cleaned a room at the Old Temple..a huge, old wooden Hindu temple built in 1906. then Friday and sat i worked and hung out with friends. Mostly Debbie and Phillip. then Sunday back to the Vedanta. i soon left the shelter and started working at a little cheese shop owned by an Indian fellow and a devotee of Vedanta. i hated it..i knew nothing about cheese and did not care to know. but i like my boss--the shop manager. this guy had been a monk for 20 years and one day just left. walked away. he was still a part of the society and went now and then, but was over being a monk.
one Friday night i thought i might go to North Beach and hang out...cruising for sex. an adult bookstore up there was a great outlet if you wanted it, but did not want the gay bar atmosphere, or in my case, i did not want to get to know anyone or date....of course because i was trying to be a monk.. and not even have sex---yeah, right. anyway now and then i would 'go looking' for something and did i ever find it that night. oh how i wish i had never gone. if i had just stayed home i would have maybe, been living at the retreat today. but it was not meant to be.
the bookstore was tacky, not too clean, and nothing but dark and filled with booths showing porn and plenty of glory holes. which had inspired many a song sung by myself...one being Sat. Night at the Bookstore. Well, Friday night would do this time. i hardly ever made it North beach but here i was.
standing around looking at the other guys and sort of waiting to see what action was there...a group of about 6 or 7 young sailors came in. talking loud and laughing loud. they were not in uniform but it was easy to tell by their haircuts and 'cool' clothes that they were indeed, sailors. i was just looking at them and thinking "Hummm", when one of the particularly goofy looking ones came and stood right in front of, and made eye contact, with me.. i have always liked nerdy guys...goofy looking that is. short blond hair, glasses, and a little thin blond mustache.
big blue eyes and a sort of hungry face no one could miss. that sort of dirty look only the filthy
minded sailor, or solider could have. i wondered if he really knew what was going on in this place. looking at that face again, i thought, "Oh, yeah. He knows". i walked to a empty booth and he was right on my heels. i knew his friends were all over the place, but if he didn't care neither did i. well, into the booth we went and as the door closed, so did my reasoning and desire to live the life of a celibate monk. about half and hour later i left the place and walked slowly to the bus stop. we had made a date to hook up on Sunday. he said he would call me. i gave hm my number and he slithered out of the booth and left. i could hear his buddies laughing and yelling as they walked away into the night..
. i spent the whole day on Sunday helping a friend move from Palo Alto to San Francisco...an all day back breaking move. i spent most of the time looking at my watch. the sailor was supposed to call me at 7 pm...i got home about 6. i was completely centered on him calling me. I showered fast and found myself planted by the phone till about 10. You ever done that? the phone waiting hell. this was no cell phone. they did not exist. if you wanted to get the call, you waited by the phone. it was a big old telephone. a silent, not ringing thing..
the whole time asking myself "why are you setting here...why are you giving in to this illusion, this silly crap?" Setting there even after it got dark. Waiting by that big telephone.
After a sleepless night i met up with Greg for our Monday trip tp Olema. I was like a fish on a grill...squirming and really in fucking hell. i could not really talk about it with the other guys since i felt so stupid and so foolish. after lunch i walked up into the hills and sat in the forest and just busted out crying. "Why?", i thought had i been so dedicated in my efforts to renounce the world and gave up my band and all the things i had looked forward to...for a night of meaningless sex with a dumb ass guy who stood me up and did not give a shit about me.?
well...after a few hours of this kind of thinking i realized it was a way for me to get back into the world. i was too old and set in my 'hard to give up'-ways. in my thinking a knew if i was not going to make it as a monk there was only one thing for me to do ...i walked fast back to the retreat house and called Lynn.
'Hey, Lynn, this i Gary"
"well, hello--what's' up?"
"Lynn, I'm in Olema. can you come get me?"
after a long pause she said yes. i could tell it would be a hard sell, but i knew i had to get the band back together. there was no other thing to do. i was thinking it had been a whole year. i had not even talked to Ben or Mikey but i also knew they had issues to over come and maybe the year had given them the time they needed to deal with their own stuff. When Lynn got there i had packed my little bag and was waiting at the gate. i had told the other monks i was leaving and needed to be at home. one of the senior Brothers told me to just be easy on myself and follow my heart. i don't think he knew i was dealing with a little sailor and a filthy bookstore..rock and roll and sexual needs...but really, who knows?.
the ride into town was about an hour long. I poured out my heart and told Lynn every thing. she told me she did want the band back together but needed to know my monk days and leaving the band were over. it had been a bit of a life upset to them and i knew it. i assured her i would be triple dedicated to SDH...now i had to talk to Ben...and Mikey. Both guys were into getting back together again...like Lynn, Ben wanted me to really be sure i was ready. Mikey was completely open and non-judgmental....happy to play with me and Sister again.
I never stopped going to Olema or stopped seeing my Guru and hanging out with the monks. even to this day. it's always been a blessing in my life. One that has kept me from being more crazy than i am. Duue to Vedanta and meeting really holy and honest people i am more grounded and inwardly happy. I always have a shrine in my house. i try and meditate every day or at least pause and give thanks to the teachers i have learned from in my life. This includes my parents and family members who were my first teachers.
---------- My father had died in a car wreck in 79. now i got a call from my mother. she was sick and i needed to go home and help. i can only hope people have the deep love of a mother like i had. if not the mother then some colse family member to hold you and give the unconditional love that my mother always gave me. my mother stood back stage and watched the Dicks more than once. I remember a very wild show in Austin at the Ritz on 6th St when we were opening for Black Flag. after the show she told me, "I am so proud of you. you sang your ass off and i am really proud!" when Ddicks records came out, i gave them to her and she played them. after SDH put out out first album she told me, " i can play this for my friends and not have to hear you doing so much cussing". i said,
" do you play the Dick's music for you friends?? why?"
she didn't even flinch and told me, " hell, yes, i do. I play your records because i am proud of you". once when she was visiting me in San Francisco SDH were playing at a short lived club on Market St. I wanted to see how shy she might be. she was setting with a few of my friends that she knew. when we played a song or two i told the crowd "my very best friend is here tonight..my best friend all of my life...my mother !"
i thought she would be shrinking, however she stood up and yelled loud enough for the whole place to hear, "My baby!!!" i have never had a moment in my life that i felt more blessed to be so loved. i was shocked and at the same time teary eyed.
My mother had had breast cancer a couple of years before. and the cancer had come back. she told me the doctor had found a spot on her liver. i told my boss that i had to leave and take care of her. and within a few days i was in Lake Jackson, Texas watchng one of the great lights of life began to fail.
this was a little bit after Halloween in 1988, she died on Dec. 22. My friend Debbie and Roxanne were with me when she died. the runaway shelter was a time of growing up for me. the death of my mother was my ccompleat coming of age. Even at my mid-30's i was still a bit of a baby and alittle bit hell raiser too. i walked from the hospital room when she passed away and left on Christams eve headed back to SF. i was so sad but knew moving on was my only choice and what she woould want.
one Friday night i thought i might go to North Beach and hang out...cruising for sex. an adult bookstore up there was a great outlet if you wanted it, but did not want the gay bar atmosphere, or in my case, i did not want to get to know anyone or date....of course because i was trying to be a monk.. and not even have sex---yeah, right. anyway now and then i would 'go looking' for something and did i ever find it that night. oh how i wish i had never gone. if i had just stayed home i would have maybe, been living at the retreat today. but it was not meant to be.
the bookstore was tacky, not too clean, and nothing but dark and filled with booths showing porn and plenty of glory holes. which had inspired many a song sung by myself...one being Sat. Night at the Bookstore. Well, Friday night would do this time. i hardly ever made it North beach but here i was.
standing around looking at the other guys and sort of waiting to see what action was there...a group of about 6 or 7 young sailors came in. talking loud and laughing loud. they were not in uniform but it was easy to tell by their haircuts and 'cool' clothes that they were indeed, sailors. i was just looking at them and thinking "Hummm", when one of the particularly goofy looking ones came and stood right in front of, and made eye contact, with me.. i have always liked nerdy guys...goofy looking that is. short blond hair, glasses, and a little thin blond mustache.
big blue eyes and a sort of hungry face no one could miss. that sort of dirty look only the filthy
minded sailor, or solider could have. i wondered if he really knew what was going on in this place. looking at that face again, i thought, "Oh, yeah. He knows". i walked to a empty booth and he was right on my heels. i knew his friends were all over the place, but if he didn't care neither did i. well, into the booth we went and as the door closed, so did my reasoning and desire to live the life of a celibate monk. about half and hour later i left the place and walked slowly to the bus stop. we had made a date to hook up on Sunday. he said he would call me. i gave hm my number and he slithered out of the booth and left. i could hear his buddies laughing and yelling as they walked away into the night..
. i spent the whole day on Sunday helping a friend move from Palo Alto to San Francisco...an all day back breaking move. i spent most of the time looking at my watch. the sailor was supposed to call me at 7 pm...i got home about 6. i was completely centered on him calling me. I showered fast and found myself planted by the phone till about 10. You ever done that? the phone waiting hell. this was no cell phone. they did not exist. if you wanted to get the call, you waited by the phone. it was a big old telephone. a silent, not ringing thing..
the whole time asking myself "why are you setting here...why are you giving in to this illusion, this silly crap?" Setting there even after it got dark. Waiting by that big telephone.
After a sleepless night i met up with Greg for our Monday trip tp Olema. I was like a fish on a grill...squirming and really in fucking hell. i could not really talk about it with the other guys since i felt so stupid and so foolish. after lunch i walked up into the hills and sat in the forest and just busted out crying. "Why?", i thought had i been so dedicated in my efforts to renounce the world and gave up my band and all the things i had looked forward to...for a night of meaningless sex with a dumb ass guy who stood me up and did not give a shit about me.?
well...after a few hours of this kind of thinking i realized it was a way for me to get back into the world. i was too old and set in my 'hard to give up'-ways. in my thinking a knew if i was not going to make it as a monk there was only one thing for me to do ...i walked fast back to the retreat house and called Lynn.
'Hey, Lynn, this i Gary"
"well, hello--what's' up?"
"Lynn, I'm in Olema. can you come get me?"
after a long pause she said yes. i could tell it would be a hard sell, but i knew i had to get the band back together. there was no other thing to do. i was thinking it had been a whole year. i had not even talked to Ben or Mikey but i also knew they had issues to over come and maybe the year had given them the time they needed to deal with their own stuff. When Lynn got there i had packed my little bag and was waiting at the gate. i had told the other monks i was leaving and needed to be at home. one of the senior Brothers told me to just be easy on myself and follow my heart. i don't think he knew i was dealing with a little sailor and a filthy bookstore..rock and roll and sexual needs...but really, who knows?.
the ride into town was about an hour long. I poured out my heart and told Lynn every thing. she told me she did want the band back together but needed to know my monk days and leaving the band were over. it had been a bit of a life upset to them and i knew it. i assured her i would be triple dedicated to SDH...now i had to talk to Ben...and Mikey. Both guys were into getting back together again...like Lynn, Ben wanted me to really be sure i was ready. Mikey was completely open and non-judgmental....happy to play with me and Sister again.
I never stopped going to Olema or stopped seeing my Guru and hanging out with the monks. even to this day. it's always been a blessing in my life. One that has kept me from being more crazy than i am. Duue to Vedanta and meeting really holy and honest people i am more grounded and inwardly happy. I always have a shrine in my house. i try and meditate every day or at least pause and give thanks to the teachers i have learned from in my life. This includes my parents and family members who were my first teachers.
---------- My father had died in a car wreck in 79. now i got a call from my mother. she was sick and i needed to go home and help. i can only hope people have the deep love of a mother like i had. if not the mother then some colse family member to hold you and give the unconditional love that my mother always gave me. my mother stood back stage and watched the Dicks more than once. I remember a very wild show in Austin at the Ritz on 6th St when we were opening for Black Flag. after the show she told me, "I am so proud of you. you sang your ass off and i am really proud!" when Ddicks records came out, i gave them to her and she played them. after SDH put out out first album she told me, " i can play this for my friends and not have to hear you doing so much cussing". i said,
" do you play the Dick's music for you friends?? why?"
she didn't even flinch and told me, " hell, yes, i do. I play your records because i am proud of you". once when she was visiting me in San Francisco SDH were playing at a short lived club on Market St. I wanted to see how shy she might be. she was setting with a few of my friends that she knew. when we played a song or two i told the crowd "my very best friend is here tonight..my best friend all of my life...my mother !"
i thought she would be shrinking, however she stood up and yelled loud enough for the whole place to hear, "My baby!!!" i have never had a moment in my life that i felt more blessed to be so loved. i was shocked and at the same time teary eyed.
My mother had had breast cancer a couple of years before. and the cancer had come back. she told me the doctor had found a spot on her liver. i told my boss that i had to leave and take care of her. and within a few days i was in Lake Jackson, Texas watchng one of the great lights of life began to fail.
this was a little bit after Halloween in 1988, she died on Dec. 22. My friend Debbie and Roxanne were with me when she died. the runaway shelter was a time of growing up for me. the death of my mother was my ccompleat coming of age. Even at my mid-30's i was still a bit of a baby and alittle bit hell raiser too. i walked from the hospital room when she passed away and left on Christams eve headed back to SF. i was so sad but knew moving on was my only choice and what she woould want.
Friday, July 10, 2009
i was looking for a spiritual path. i would always call my self a 'small c" communist, but to hell with 'religion is the opiate of the people' crap. i was not into that thinking. as a matter of fact, i had always felt if the communist leaders had allowed the people to practice spirituality ...have the gathering places of the church, not having a state religion but a flourishing of different paths the communist political system would never have fallen. If you remove the spiritual freedom from people's lives you soon have a deflated people. the proof has happened--there is no argument. i certenly think the two could have mixed. It also seemed to me as soon as one communist leader died very soon he was not only replaced but denounced....so whatever -- i loved the idea of keeping a socialist world overview with a path of god-consciousness. as usual i felt a 'fuck you' to the few people who gave me any grief for my beliefs. i was looking and knew the Christen path was not gong to work for me.Prue Christian folks were wonderful...if they really followed the teaching of Jesus. i loved Jesus. but that type of Christian was hard to find. usually a lot of judging was found toward my own experience. so i was looking for another way -Buddhist teachings were next and i looked deep into the Buddha and found a lot of different thinking and so many variations i became a bit confused and kept moving. although now i am as Buddhist as i am anything. i had though the years seen many times the book Autobiography of a Yogi by Paramahansa Yogananda. i had often made fun of his looks--a sweet faced, androgynous holy man from India. i felt ashamed for laughing at his looks as i opened the book and found him a wonderful teacher and the book itself a fascinating story of his life. i was reading the book one night after the kids had gone to bed at the shelter. I was working with a great guy named Ishmeal. a really sweet and super smart man who late, sadly, died . his spirit was funny and loving and giving. when he saw the book he sad he had been instretedin some eastern techers...and knew of Yogananda. a few says later he bought three little books to me when we were both at the shelter again. from the Vedanta society. 'Thus Speak Sri Ramakrishna, Holy Mother Mother, and Swami Vivekananda'. A picture of the three Indian teachers were on the front of the little pocket books. and quotes from them made up the books. he gave the books to me and told me he had gone to the big temple on Vallejo St. that they had a book shop. That i should check it out. At once i felt a attraction to the books and the pictures. I couldn't wait to go and see the place. I had found out a year before that i had diabetes. it ran in my family and the dr told me to loose weight. yeah, right! however it seemed to be the time for me. i had started riding a bicycle and walking all over SF. it was a good time for me. popular band, good job hat i loved, and the adventure of a spiritual life looking at me. i was happy. when i first went to the Vedanta i found a lot of old women working at the book shop. and nuns...not the catholic type but still nuns. i loved it. i would go every other day and hang out reading and buying books. asking the women tons of questions. the first book i bought was by the great writer Christifor Isherwood. Ramakrishna and His Decipeles. Isherwood was a follower of Vedanta. being gay and excepted into the Vedanta Society in LA i was happy to start showing up at the Sunday lectures and even meeting the Swami in charge. i was even loosing weight..about 80 lbs. in all and the diabetes had 'gone away'. soon i got the swami to become my teacher by giving me initiation into the followers of Vedanta and Sri Ramakrishna.
Around this same time i left the shelter. the 'burn out' factor had et in and i had to move on. i would miss many of the friends i had made there, and keep seeing many who i am till friends with to this day..truly the best job i have ever had.
but leaving the shelter and not being able to shake the problems and nightmares of the kids who were getting more and more heavy was too much for me. so i left. as alwys the good and the bad run together like twins. bad comes with good and good with bad.
my mother was sick...cancer .
a few months earlier i had quit SDH. it made the other folks in the band pretty pissed off at me. we had just recorded our first album...on SST. it only took 48 hours to record nd mix. great music, but i wanted out..i wnted to join the monastery and be a monk. yes. me--a monk.
Around this same time i left the shelter. the 'burn out' factor had et in and i had to move on. i would miss many of the friends i had made there, and keep seeing many who i am till friends with to this day..truly the best job i have ever had.
but leaving the shelter and not being able to shake the problems and nightmares of the kids who were getting more and more heavy was too much for me. so i left. as alwys the good and the bad run together like twins. bad comes with good and good with bad.
my mother was sick...cancer .
a few months earlier i had quit SDH. it made the other folks in the band pretty pissed off at me. we had just recorded our first album...on SST. it only took 48 hours to record nd mix. great music, but i wanted out..i wnted to join the monastery and be a monk. yes. me--a monk.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Shelter was keeping me busy at least three days a week. one doing day shifts which was cleaning, getting food prepped for the night shift, making calls to get permission for the kids to stay there. after 72 hours you had to have a legal guardian give permission for them to stay there over night. i was always surprised when parents would just say "yeah" and hang up--not even asking how the kidwas...ok, healthy, alive...some parents would get pissed and say NO, send them home! it was such an across the board responces that usually let me know why the kid had ran away. i did two over nights a week along with another staff person and a 9--12 to give support to the over night people. it did not really take long for me to get way into the job. to work there you had to. some nights would be nuts with 30 kids and a few rappers and a skin head or two, husslers and kids tripping...it was a great effort to keep things calm with out being a 'big brother'and bitchy. some nights only a few kids would be there. that's when you got to really know the kids one on one. the could drop the street mask and be real not worring about the tough skin to protect them from the street.
a punk couple had been there for a couple of nights. they clung to each other from the time they got htere to the time they went to their separate bed areas. they had ran away from smaller town in Organ. i had done the intake for the guy...and checked in with him as we did with each kid every night in the office one to one. at nine the door bell started ringing with the kids ready to come in and eat....rest and just relax. i was cooking in the little kitchen and was saying hello and talking to them as they started pilling in. i was the punk girl come in and she looked less than happy. then the boy came in..."HI" he said to me. in a mood different than his usual stoic attatude. "HI" i said "how are you?"..he tood there with a big smile and said, " I sucked my first dick today...i loved it!". me and the other councilor just locked eyes. " i looked over at the guy and said "oh, did you ?" "yeah...im gonna suck a few more tomorrow". ok...i thought i had to deal with this at once. the poor girl friend was setting on the couch with big tears rolling down her face.
"why don't you and i go talk." i told him. and we went into the council room.
"what's up? and why are you making J---- cry?"
"i met thi guy today, and he took me out to eat and he gave me a little money and we had sex and i loved it"
"well, do you feel that givves you the right to hurt someone who loves you?"
"I don't want to hurt her but i feel like i am gay and i want to live that way".
"you may be able to do that and not hurt your long time girl friend both. just think of how happy you would be if she was not so hurt. I want you to be what you are but hurting another person is only going to hold you back....much less having sex for money. go slow with this and think for a second how to move forward. "
he was a good kid. just got away from a little town and wanted to be himself...if that was gay or whatever. i just wanted him to be safe and not mean to his poor hut girlfriend. we kept talking each night and he made peace with the x girl friend and they seem to settle into a sort of best friend thing. years later i ran into this guy in a bar and he thanked me for helping him come out..i ran into lots of the formor kids during my years after working at the helter and they all were thankful for what the shelter had done for them. of course some of the kid hated me...skin heads who came in and were trying to be bullies to gay or Mexican or black kids...i had to remember they were runaways too and had problems that needed attention. but i had to make it clear this was a place for everybody and no one was was going to feel otherwise....even if it meant kicking them out to prove that. i had a few mean big kid tell me they were going to kick my ass if they ever saw me out of the shelter....which scared me to death. Lucky, though, it never happened.
SDH
once when the Dicks were playing, i think in Houston, we played in the back of wha once had been a Revolutionary Communist Party bookstore. I have no idea how that happened. the guy who put on the show told me i could have a book...which was stored ther but he gave me a copy of a cartoon book. about a woman who was a fighter in the war of resistance against Japan that the Chinee had fought. she was super brave and loved Chairman Mao. Her name was Sister Double Happiness....i guess like a nun...yoou know...sister mary lovejesus?? so after my many other ideas had been shot down for naming our band i remembered the book and said why not use that as the name--Sister Double Happiness?? we all liked it, although long we could use SDH. that was the name and i heard my old pal Mikey from Austin and the bass player of the great Offenders had moved to SF. i was thinking how great of a bass player he was and how we needed one and....
i found Mikey and asked him to please come at least practice with us. he was happy and wanted to play something different than hardcore for a while. well, he played a couple of the songs and wow...we had our band at lat...SDH was hppening. we had written most of our first album's songs by our first show. SDH, the song, was our first tune when we did that first show at the Chatterbox in Valencia. what a club? small but it had the feeling of a real gritty rock and roll place. the sound we looked for was fitting the club at the moment. honest and nasty blues-punk songs we loved to play. a song Freight Train was about the ever increasing nightmare killer AIDS. it was cool because two writers for gay news papers were at the show. Don Baird and Adam Block. they both wrote great reviews of the show for their different news paper. Poodle Dog was our last song and it had started. SDH. i couldn't have been happier.
but i was still feeling a bit of a longing for a spiritual path. I felt something coming, though.
things were good.
a punk couple had been there for a couple of nights. they clung to each other from the time they got htere to the time they went to their separate bed areas. they had ran away from smaller town in Organ. i had done the intake for the guy...and checked in with him as we did with each kid every night in the office one to one. at nine the door bell started ringing with the kids ready to come in and eat....rest and just relax. i was cooking in the little kitchen and was saying hello and talking to them as they started pilling in. i was the punk girl come in and she looked less than happy. then the boy came in..."HI" he said to me. in a mood different than his usual stoic attatude. "HI" i said "how are you?"..he tood there with a big smile and said, " I sucked my first dick today...i loved it!". me and the other councilor just locked eyes. " i looked over at the guy and said "oh, did you ?" "yeah...im gonna suck a few more tomorrow". ok...i thought i had to deal with this at once. the poor girl friend was setting on the couch with big tears rolling down her face.
"why don't you and i go talk." i told him. and we went into the council room.
"what's up? and why are you making J---- cry?"
"i met thi guy today, and he took me out to eat and he gave me a little money and we had sex and i loved it"
"well, do you feel that givves you the right to hurt someone who loves you?"
"I don't want to hurt her but i feel like i am gay and i want to live that way".
"you may be able to do that and not hurt your long time girl friend both. just think of how happy you would be if she was not so hurt. I want you to be what you are but hurting another person is only going to hold you back....much less having sex for money. go slow with this and think for a second how to move forward. "
he was a good kid. just got away from a little town and wanted to be himself...if that was gay or whatever. i just wanted him to be safe and not mean to his poor hut girlfriend. we kept talking each night and he made peace with the x girl friend and they seem to settle into a sort of best friend thing. years later i ran into this guy in a bar and he thanked me for helping him come out..i ran into lots of the formor kids during my years after working at the helter and they all were thankful for what the shelter had done for them. of course some of the kid hated me...skin heads who came in and were trying to be bullies to gay or Mexican or black kids...i had to remember they were runaways too and had problems that needed attention. but i had to make it clear this was a place for everybody and no one was was going to feel otherwise....even if it meant kicking them out to prove that. i had a few mean big kid tell me they were going to kick my ass if they ever saw me out of the shelter....which scared me to death. Lucky, though, it never happened.
SDH
once when the Dicks were playing, i think in Houston, we played in the back of wha once had been a Revolutionary Communist Party bookstore. I have no idea how that happened. the guy who put on the show told me i could have a book...which was stored ther but he gave me a copy of a cartoon book. about a woman who was a fighter in the war of resistance against Japan that the Chinee had fought. she was super brave and loved Chairman Mao. Her name was Sister Double Happiness....i guess like a nun...yoou know...sister mary lovejesus?? so after my many other ideas had been shot down for naming our band i remembered the book and said why not use that as the name--Sister Double Happiness?? we all liked it, although long we could use SDH. that was the name and i heard my old pal Mikey from Austin and the bass player of the great Offenders had moved to SF. i was thinking how great of a bass player he was and how we needed one and....
i found Mikey and asked him to please come at least practice with us. he was happy and wanted to play something different than hardcore for a while. well, he played a couple of the songs and wow...we had our band at lat...SDH was hppening. we had written most of our first album's songs by our first show. SDH, the song, was our first tune when we did that first show at the Chatterbox in Valencia. what a club? small but it had the feeling of a real gritty rock and roll place. the sound we looked for was fitting the club at the moment. honest and nasty blues-punk songs we loved to play. a song Freight Train was about the ever increasing nightmare killer AIDS. it was cool because two writers for gay news papers were at the show. Don Baird and Adam Block. they both wrote great reviews of the show for their different news paper. Poodle Dog was our last song and it had started. SDH. i couldn't have been happier.
but i was still feeling a bit of a longing for a spiritual path. I felt something coming, though.
things were good.
Saturday, June 13, 2009
The Dicks were over now. I was happy to be out of a band for a while. Lynn and i were already talking about a new band with no 'kind of music'...or rather 'any kind of music' but for a while we wanted to just do nothing with band. however, the sweetness of having a house to live in came with the problen of paying rent. Phillip, rightfully had got a little sick of supporting my ass.
I head from Hilary that a night time runaway shelter was looking for taff members. Diamond Youth Shelter--a collective of diverse people dedicated to providing a safe place to sleep. A warm meal. as few rules s possible. and no judging due to color, sexuality, all the stuff a runaway shelter should be. Hilay worked at a sister shelter --Larkin Street Drop in center. Lots of x-hippies and punks and odd balls worked there....queers and sdykes and ananchist and people who wanted to help kids not fuck with them. I had never even thought of tht kind of work. a councilor..? Everyone told me to go for it. Not having a job and one being put in front of my face just made sence to at least apply. I knew a few of the people whi worked there. One of Hlary's best friend's Stacey. I met her a few times through Hil. She was a great woman. pretty much raised herself on the streets of Ney York City...Tom Alder, who had help start the anarchist book collective --bound Together. One of the guys from Crucifix worked there, too..but was leaving. the rest of the 20 or so staff members held hiring meetings to interview the job applicant. i was a bit nervous as i strolled into the old church building on Central Street....acros the paanhandle from the Haight. I lived just down the street so that was a plus right off. it was a rather odd group of collective menbers. Stacey and Tom were friendly and introduced me to the staff. A tall woman named Stephanie was the one doing mot of the talking at first. he was a beautiful person. pertty face and long hair in a braid. she poke with a kin voice telling me about th helter and what it ment to work there. I, had stuk with my long super bleached totally dead hair, no facial hair, pretty fat, tan pants and a big hite and blue hirt. meaning i had dresed up! everyone started asking questions. what if..type questions. having been in a touring punk rock band for years i had a pretty good way of dealing with all kinds of people.....all kinds of people on all kinds of drugs and all kinds of problems. the last question was 'will you to commit to working here at least a year?" of cours i said yes...not even thinking i would really work a second past when i wanted to leave. Later i saw what an important obligation that was. so they told me they would call me the next day to let me know if i got the job or not.
i left and thought about what it would be like working there. It was financed by Catholic Chairities, but the collective had a representative to go between the shelter and the CC.runaway kids. i had had some big fights with my parents in my years at home, but reunning aay had never been something i took to heart. there was a real feeling of all the people who had interviewed me as being really good people. the place, being an old church, was funky as could be. where had been the auditorium was now the sleeping quaters for the kids. half for the girls and half for the boys. the offices and eating area were now the hang out place and eating tables. and a mall kitchen. funky.
it was with in a few hours i got the call asking if i wanted the job--if i did they wanted to ask me to join the collective. my first thought was "oh, fuck...a job". then i was Ye and was told to come the next night around 8. i would be doing a 9--12 shift. two over night people and one 9--1 were the working set up for the staff. you never really knew how many kids might show up. My friend Stacey, who was one of the people being replaced since she was going back to her home in NYC was on duty that night...this was a good thing. She had been a street kid herself in NY and had been a real success story. she ran away but got her life in order and found safe places to stay...even group homes and places where she could get her education and not be a victim but an example. of course, everyone ain't stacey but it tought her how to work with other kids in situations close to her own. i got there right at 8 and the two folks were already getting food ready for the night. a huge salad, bread, tons of salad dressing, cooking and tea and a giant home made spaghetti. it looked great. i saw every type of kid that night. the seasoned 17 y/o who scamed and sold drugs to get by...just using the shelter to sleep....more that a few boys and gils who hung out on Polk St selling their bodies to men and using the money for dugs or a hotel room for the night that all the kids pilled up n in. clean scared looking 15 y/o girl who had been abused by her dad....on and on....after the kids ate taff member pulled a kid aside one on one to check in and find out what had gone on that day....it was a real trip. usually a clitent made a connection with one of the staff members and thats who they would talk to although everybody did every thing. one boy about 16 or so picked me out as an easy target to fuck with. he pulled out a knife and tarted playing with it and looking at me."i don't think you're supposed to have that", i told him, but a little uptight i showed a bit of fear of him..."yeah, who'll take it away?" he said to me in a real smart ass voice. From behind him Stacey reached over and said," i'm going to take it away...you know damn well no weapons and stop trying to scare gary...he's a punk rock singer" and walked off. he looked at me and i stared at him and started to laugh..."what and ass hole thing to do on my first night...you gonna cut off my fucking head next?" lucky, he laughed too...."a punk rock singer..." he asked. that sort of saved me and we hit it off the rest of the night....he was a sort of leader of a group of the hussler kids...girls and boys. a real sweet, but hard street wise boy. he was cute so he made more money and was famous for making enough to rent a room and let everyone stay there and part all night. he had been kicked out of his house by parents who had so many of their own problems his leaving hardly touched them at all. i ended up working at the helter for three years. i learned more on this job than i ever learned in school or on the road or anywhere. thi boy died a year or so later of aids. lots of the kids i met and worked with and got close to died of aids and durg overdoses or just never came back.
during this time Lynn and i were looking for another guitar and bass to form another band. She called me one night and said the famous and well known Ginger Coyote -- the local singer and fanzine owner...singer of White Trash Debutnts had called her to say she knew a great guitaist for our band. Ben Cohen. He played with Polkaside and with Ginger in different projects now and then. Lynn had called him and shure enough he was interreted in getting to gether and seeing how it might work out. It did work out. iwe met up at old capp Street Studios and played for hours. No bass yet but we loved his playing and he seemed to be having fun, although sometimes that was a bit hard to figure out. we set another get together up and made a commitment to try and find a bass player to come jam (although i hae that word) with us.
i wanted to get his going. Ben had a stule of playing that somehow had rock and a sort of ragged blues combined. i loved it and wanted band . I thought Brown Beach was a great name. they both gave me real non approving looks. whatever.
I head from Hilary that a night time runaway shelter was looking for taff members. Diamond Youth Shelter--a collective of diverse people dedicated to providing a safe place to sleep. A warm meal. as few rules s possible. and no judging due to color, sexuality, all the stuff a runaway shelter should be. Hilay worked at a sister shelter --Larkin Street Drop in center. Lots of x-hippies and punks and odd balls worked there....queers and sdykes and ananchist and people who wanted to help kids not fuck with them. I had never even thought of tht kind of work. a councilor..? Everyone told me to go for it. Not having a job and one being put in front of my face just made sence to at least apply. I knew a few of the people whi worked there. One of Hlary's best friend's Stacey. I met her a few times through Hil. She was a great woman. pretty much raised herself on the streets of Ney York City...Tom Alder, who had help start the anarchist book collective --bound Together. One of the guys from Crucifix worked there, too..but was leaving. the rest of the 20 or so staff members held hiring meetings to interview the job applicant. i was a bit nervous as i strolled into the old church building on Central Street....acros the paanhandle from the Haight. I lived just down the street so that was a plus right off. it was a rather odd group of collective menbers. Stacey and Tom were friendly and introduced me to the staff. A tall woman named Stephanie was the one doing mot of the talking at first. he was a beautiful person. pertty face and long hair in a braid. she poke with a kin voice telling me about th helter and what it ment to work there. I, had stuk with my long super bleached totally dead hair, no facial hair, pretty fat, tan pants and a big hite and blue hirt. meaning i had dresed up! everyone started asking questions. what if..type questions. having been in a touring punk rock band for years i had a pretty good way of dealing with all kinds of people.....all kinds of people on all kinds of drugs and all kinds of problems. the last question was 'will you to commit to working here at least a year?" of cours i said yes...not even thinking i would really work a second past when i wanted to leave. Later i saw what an important obligation that was. so they told me they would call me the next day to let me know if i got the job or not.
i left and thought about what it would be like working there. It was financed by Catholic Chairities, but the collective had a representative to go between the shelter and the CC.runaway kids. i had had some big fights with my parents in my years at home, but reunning aay had never been something i took to heart. there was a real feeling of all the people who had interviewed me as being really good people. the place, being an old church, was funky as could be. where had been the auditorium was now the sleeping quaters for the kids. half for the girls and half for the boys. the offices and eating area were now the hang out place and eating tables. and a mall kitchen. funky.
it was with in a few hours i got the call asking if i wanted the job--if i did they wanted to ask me to join the collective. my first thought was "oh, fuck...a job". then i was Ye and was told to come the next night around 8. i would be doing a 9--12 shift. two over night people and one 9--1 were the working set up for the staff. you never really knew how many kids might show up. My friend Stacey, who was one of the people being replaced since she was going back to her home in NYC was on duty that night...this was a good thing. She had been a street kid herself in NY and had been a real success story. she ran away but got her life in order and found safe places to stay...even group homes and places where she could get her education and not be a victim but an example. of course, everyone ain't stacey but it tought her how to work with other kids in situations close to her own. i got there right at 8 and the two folks were already getting food ready for the night. a huge salad, bread, tons of salad dressing, cooking and tea and a giant home made spaghetti. it looked great. i saw every type of kid that night. the seasoned 17 y/o who scamed and sold drugs to get by...just using the shelter to sleep....more that a few boys and gils who hung out on Polk St selling their bodies to men and using the money for dugs or a hotel room for the night that all the kids pilled up n in. clean scared looking 15 y/o girl who had been abused by her dad....on and on....after the kids ate taff member pulled a kid aside one on one to check in and find out what had gone on that day....it was a real trip. usually a clitent made a connection with one of the staff members and thats who they would talk to although everybody did every thing. one boy about 16 or so picked me out as an easy target to fuck with. he pulled out a knife and tarted playing with it and looking at me."i don't think you're supposed to have that", i told him, but a little uptight i showed a bit of fear of him..."yeah, who'll take it away?" he said to me in a real smart ass voice. From behind him Stacey reached over and said," i'm going to take it away...you know damn well no weapons and stop trying to scare gary...he's a punk rock singer" and walked off. he looked at me and i stared at him and started to laugh..."what and ass hole thing to do on my first night...you gonna cut off my fucking head next?" lucky, he laughed too...."a punk rock singer..." he asked. that sort of saved me and we hit it off the rest of the night....he was a sort of leader of a group of the hussler kids...girls and boys. a real sweet, but hard street wise boy. he was cute so he made more money and was famous for making enough to rent a room and let everyone stay there and part all night. he had been kicked out of his house by parents who had so many of their own problems his leaving hardly touched them at all. i ended up working at the helter for three years. i learned more on this job than i ever learned in school or on the road or anywhere. thi boy died a year or so later of aids. lots of the kids i met and worked with and got close to died of aids and durg overdoses or just never came back.
during this time Lynn and i were looking for another guitar and bass to form another band. She called me one night and said the famous and well known Ginger Coyote -- the local singer and fanzine owner...singer of White Trash Debutnts had called her to say she knew a great guitaist for our band. Ben Cohen. He played with Polkaside and with Ginger in different projects now and then. Lynn had called him and shure enough he was interreted in getting to gether and seeing how it might work out. It did work out. iwe met up at old capp Street Studios and played for hours. No bass yet but we loved his playing and he seemed to be having fun, although sometimes that was a bit hard to figure out. we set another get together up and made a commitment to try and find a bass player to come jam (although i hae that word) with us.
i wanted to get his going. Ben had a stule of playing that somehow had rock and a sort of ragged blues combined. i loved it and wanted band . I thought Brown Beach was a great name. they both gave me real non approving looks. whatever.
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