Please! No more Paris Hilton! I don't know who she is, what she did or why anyone should remotely care. Just stop now. Please. Stop.

I’m a pretty easy going guy and have very few rules in life (the main rule being that there aren’t many rules and what few rules exist are generally subject to change at any moment). However one rule should always be implemented; if you are an adult male you should not wear any type of ball cap backwards unless you are catching a baseball/softball game (rally cap is fine here), riding a motorbike without a helmet (a bicycle on a windy day is okay too) or looking through the view-finder of a camera. And the older you are the worse it is.

I’m not too down with reunion tours. I look at them as about one step above “Tribute bands,” and several steps below French Pop music. My general experience with seeing bands on reunion tours was usually met with disappointment. I saw the Police, Gang of Four, Parliament/Funkadelic, War, the Pretenders, Tower of Power etcetera in their respective “hey-day(s)” and I thoroughly enjoyed them. I still enjoy listening to their music from time-to-time as well. An example of the point I am trying to make is this; I went to see Gang of Four a few years ago at the Fillmore for their “reunion tour” and though they were pretty tight for the most part they were nothing compared to how they were when I saw them back in 1979/1980. Frankly, they were not as vibrant as they once were and seemed to be trying way too hard to please. I left that evening wishing I had never gone. Maybe if it was my first time seeing them the experience would of been different, but I had seen them before and I felt somewhat cheated.

I never saw the Rolling Stones or the Who or even the Kinks in the 1960’s but I did see them in the 1970’s and they were great. However, I saw the Rolling Stones during their Bridges to Babylon tour (my old job. Long story, don’t ask) and, once again thought they were tight and such but it all just seemed so stilted and hokey to me. Mick was pretty stiff and looked pretty silly and good 'ol Keith... his age has finally caught up to his physical appearance.
A Stones show back in the 1970’s held a lot of weight and was considered quite the “Chic” thing to go to and be seen at. Now it seems like an over-priced nostalgia tour where for a wheel barrel load of money you can sit several miles away with a bunch of 60-year olds and watch specks on a platform stiffly move about under colored lights…..oh, and they’ll shoot off some fireworks at the end for ya.
Don’t even get me started on why they (the Stones) even bother to continue to record and release records. I feel that they could have stopped somewhere after Tattoo You and still have several ( and I do mean several) hours of “hit” material to play and that isn’t even counting the other stuff that they recorded that wasn’t a hit but is just as good if not better.

The drummer from the Police, Stewart Copeland stated recently that the opening reunion tour concert the Police just played in Vancouver, Canada, “…was lame.” Though I wasn’t there that very well could be an accurate statement. The Police haven’t been a band in over 20 years and frankly I’m not surprised that Mr. Copeland thought they came off lame.

It seems to me that in most cases it’s actually better to end on top than to continue on until one reaches mediocrity, or in bands such as the Police’s case perhaps this is one-too-many-trips to the well?

I still whole-heartedly encourage you to support music, art, film and literature locally as well as globally.

Priorities


I just returned from a coffee run and was glancing at the front page of the Marin Independent Journal (the news paper of Marin County where I live)while pouring my afternoon cup o' joe and it seems that even with April/May being the deadlist period of the Iraq war for the U.S. and Bush, in his infamous wisdom imposing new sanctions on Darfur (I'm still wondering who will have the guts to impose some freakin' sanctions on him!), five British citizens are kidnapped in Baghdad, U.S. Gerneral Peter Pace undercounts the American war deaths and Cindy Sheehan steps down from her protesting Bush and the Iraq war...it seems that all the Independent Journal can come up with for headlines is that Delta and Dawn the wayward whales are heading back out to sea and something about cows being shot in West Marin.

Circling the Drain

Lately I’ve been wishing and hoping that people would spend the same amount of time and concern with knowing more about the war in Iraq and all of the underhanded dealings the Bush administration has been pulling as they do with knowing all about professional athlete’s statistics and contracts and the results of American idol.
Then again, that would be like asking people to drive less, get off of their cell phones more and quit treating stop signs as mere suggestions.

Afternoon Siesta

This Friday, May 18 at 1:00 Pm (PST) Yours truly will be getting interviewed on Coastal Airwaves on the West Marin radio station KWMR. You can listen in on your computer by going to:

www.kwmr.org

Click on the "On Air" sign with the little cow on top of it and follow the prompters. What could be easier? An all pull-out from Iraq? Yeah, one would tend to think so, but....

I guess I’m more of a traditionalist than I thought.
I went surfing early this morning. By early I mean dark o’ clock early like usual. This is why it’s called dawn patrol. I was alone this morning which in these crowed times is more than unusual and I was also without my buddy, John who either drives out with me or meets me there.
I got to the sea wall as the sky was only beginning to turn from Indigo to a cobalt blue before becoming a sort of battleship gray and did my usual surf check with cup of coffee in hand. It was a nice, crisp morning as there was no wind to speak of and the full moon was disappearing and the stars beginning to fade. Very nice, indeed.
Anyway, to non-surfers a surf check is generally going by surf spots and seeing what the surf conditions are like. Good? So, so? Naw, I’m going back to bed and so on. Lately I’ve been noticing that this practice seems to be on the verge of becoming extinct.
I watched the swell for a while being aware that the tide was at slack and would soon be turning and coming up. I also noticed that a lot of sand was off of the beach and that sand bars were starting to form. The surf was breaking both right and occasionally left, 3’ to 4’ and only a couple hundred yards off of the wall itself. I haven’t seen it do this in quite some time and I was pretty stoked to be sure.
After about 25 minutes of observing the swell and making sure that it is consistent I suddenly noticed that guys were coming down to the beach with there wet suits already on, expensive boards under arms running for the break! “What the heck?” First, one lone guy and then two guy’s right after him and a couple of minutes later and two more guys. I didn’t know any of these people. When I drove up this morning I was the only person there and I was also the only person on the wall checking the conditions as well and now there are five people in the drink, without even looking just running into the surf ignorant as all hell.
Boy, was I ever missing John’s infamous smart-ass remarks at about this point. Being a couple of old guys, John and I have seen some funny shit happen at the beach over the years and it never fails that you almost always get some arrogant “new-be” not check the surf first and end up running down to the water in wetsuit and with the high-end board under the arm only to find it flatter than a pool table. We just shake our heads and chuckle into our coffees as the “new-be” either slinks off without looking at us, or they go out and bob around in the cold water as shark bait. “Yeah, showed us!”
I do realize that with free web sites and cell phones and all the other modern gadgets that people are finding out what the surf is like before they even see the water. Hell, it’s said that over half of the surf population doesn’t even live by the water! I once on a lark was able to check the surf at my local break from a computer when I was on vacation in the Peruvian mountains! It’s just that crazy now.
Still, I’ve just been a student of watching the weather and knowing my surf spots and how they work in certain weather conditions. This is what they call old school, I suppose. And let me tell ya’ this old school method has paid off as I’ve had plenty of great surf with just me or me and my friends because the computers were claiming it was flat or whatever it is they claim and we were out in the water enjoying quality surf.
After watching the Neoprene Lemmings flail into the water I figured I better get a move on if I want to get some surf myself. I returned to my truck and suited up. The funny part about all of this was that with the time I put in observing the surf this morning I still was able to surf for two hours alone in my spot because the other knuckleheads who were in such a hurry ran over to the usual, popular spot and fought with each other for a decent session. I, on the other hand enjoyed the morning alone with my thoughts and the ocean riding wave, after glassy wave.

I had just recently spent part of a day in my hometown. I actually drove and walked around a bunch of areas and places I spent a good portion of my childhood in and was amazed at how in one sense everything had changed and yet even the air seemed to smell and feel how I remembered it all of those years ago. I hadn’t done this since the mid-1980’s so it was quite an eye-opener.
After visiting a cousin I was shocked to hear how many kids we grew up with or went to school, little league or church with have either passed away from cancer, accidents or an alarming amount by there own hand--not to mention the ones who are now either incarcerated or homeless and live under freeways and push shopping carts.
I was also surprised to find out that the few people that had moved away are now back living in town again. What’s up with that? There seem to be very few of us who moved away and stayed away. I can count them on one hand.
There was one boy who I met in junior high school who was a very talented guitarist and preferred to play jazz over rock, which I found very cool and just so beyond what any of our other contemporaries were doing. He didn’t do drugs and was a really mellow, cool guy. My cousin had told me that he had passed away from a drug overdose a few years ago and I couldn’t believe it. My cousin also told me about a girl I had known since grade school and how she had died a while back from breast cancer. This was almost more than I could take.
During the long, multiple hour drive back to the bay area where I have been living for the better part of 25 years I had these two people on my mind the whole way and could see their young faces and how I remembered them as little kids, as high school kids and then how they looked when I had last seen them.
The next day I couldn’t get them out of my head so I tried to look them up on the internet.
I was elated that the boy I had known since junior high school is alive and well playing guitar in New York City and doing quite well too boot! However, I couldn’t find anything on the girl.
I guess this is all part of life. This is how it goes and one must take it as it comes. Everything is different and yet nothing has changed.

Streets of Hope

Walking to my work the other morning I noticed a homeless man walking towards me. He was bedraggled so much so he looked more like a child’s scribble on a piece of paper than of a man. On top of this person’s noggin was perched a ball cap and on this ball cap the inscription; Make a Wish. You gotta’ love his optimism!

I just returned from my late-morning coffee run and on my way back I noticed that some careless person had strewn their garbage from two trash bags all over the side walk in front of the side entrance door of my studio building.
I sighed, set my coffee down and commenced to pick up the trash, re-bag it and set it next to the fence where the garbage cans are generally set out around here. One bag was full of old food containers and the like. Pretty gross stuff. Fortunately this wasn’t the spilled bag. The other trash bag was full of old blankets, a shoe and other miscellaneous items. However, on the ground next to the bag was a hardbound copy of the Tenth Anniversary Calvin & Hobbes book…and it’s from a library that is located on the other side of the county. I noticed that it was due back on November 2, 2004. Man, the libraries in this country are already in dire straights as it is that they really don’t need this kind of careless abandon with books. I don’t know about other parts of the country but I do know that here in Marin County the hours of the libraries have been cut back quite a bit among other things and this worries me. I like libraries and the services they give to the community. It’s truly one of the last community oriented institutions in our modern culture that is free of corporate meddling and such.
Also, being a cartoonist myself the thought that some kid somewhere wasn’t getting to enjoy the wonderful world of Bill Waterson and his delightful creation for free and perhaps set her/him onto path of creativity was not making my day a nice one. So, now I know what I’ll be doing at lunch today. Yep. I’ll be driving this puppy back to the library.

There is a prominent carpet cleaning company of the most national kind here in the land of Dictator Bush and they run commercials on television. Most mornings I have my cup of coffee while watching the local news (see previous blog entry) and this is where I have been seeing this particular advertisement. I know, you're probably thinking, "So, what?"
Yeah, I did too at first, however this particular company seems to be pushing not that they are a wonderful carpet cleaning company so much as they are advertising that their employees are clean, and by clean I mean clean and sober. They go on with a satisfied customer testimonial (the customer is a white woman) on how they trust this company because all of their employees have been carefully screened and are drug, alcohol and background checked and they now feel safer and can trust the company. Also, it REALLY makes me wonder as this woman is blathering on that the two employees shown cleaning a cartpet are an African-American and a Latino....Hmmm. What is the subliminal message here? After the testimonial a narrator then repeats pretty much what the woman had already said and the kicker is that the company’s carpet cleaning abilities seem to be secondary.
This has me wondering what I've missed lately in that carpet cleaners are more keen in advertising employee sobriety as opposed to actually cleaning carpets better than the competitors. What's happening in the carpet cleaning business?

Irony, it's a funny thing




I woke up this morning and poured my morning cup of coffee. I then went into my living room and turned on the TV to watch the news but all I got was a funeral.

Late summer nights in a valley town
Seeming so long ago It can't be reached
That never is far away in my dreams
Sagging, little houses too hot to sleep
Trains lumber by all steel and cold
In the wee, small hours on large wheels
Drowning out cricket operas in the starry night
If only for a few moments then silence returns
As a dog barks in a far-off corner of the neighborhood
Probably at a neighbor cat on an pre-dawn prowl
In old sleeping bags in my mother’s backyard
Looking up through the silhouette branches
At a crescent moon looking back at me
Thinking of a world far beyond my own
I can still hear it all as a man today
In the new dreams that won’t let me sleep
In this world I never knew existed when I was a boy.

Past to Present

I’ve been thinking a lot about the past. I do this quite often. Thinking a lot about the people and places I’ve known and about the things I’ve done from the great things to the not-so-great things. I like to remember the way the sun made my street look on a late, summer evening or something funny a kid from grade school said all those years ago. I get this way every so often and I certainly don’t mean for one to live in the past. No. I just like to visit the past every so often if by way of a fond memory, or even looking someone up and checking in on them even if just to share that laugh from a million years ago. It’s a good thing to do to help keep one balanced. I guess what I mean is this; I’m a firm believer in the fact that to know where you are going you must know and understand where you have been.

Not Paranoid…Just Bummed


I’m not the most political guy to be sure, but I like to think that I am at least awake and paying a bit of attention. Here’s what’s got me wondering; why is the media focused on John Karr or Paris Hilton or steroid use in professional sports or immigration and the Mexican border, etc. and why should any of us even care about such issues? Well, for starters I live in a state were Arnold Freakin’ Schwarzenegger was elected governor. To me that speaks volumes! Here’s a guy that is an actor in Hollywood films and a piss poor actor on top of that, yet enough voting Californians felt he was the choice for governor! The Terminator for governor! The presidential elections aren’t any better I mean 26 years ago another piss-poor actor was elected, twice! Let’s face it, you don’t really get many choices for elections and even less good choices on top of that. Every election I feel like I have to choose between three piles of horrible, reeking sweat socks and I have to choose which pile smells least! Serves us right, I suppose. We, as a society on a whole don't really seem to think too deeply and part of this is probably due to living in a fast food, dot-com, commercial, plastic, dumber-than-a-bag-a-hammers society where we let things be done for us and it has me really bummed.
I really believe that the populace of the U.S. at this very moment are being hoodwinked into believing that the Jon Benet Ramsey case is truly much more important than the war in Iraq, or the unrest between Palestine and Israel or the strife in the Sudan, or jobs being shipped off to other countries, the people in Louisiana and Mississippi a year after Katrina are still in dispare, do you think for one second that Iraq had anything to do with 9/11 and that the government didn't have prior knowledge? Come on and wake up! It seems that most of the people I come in contact with lately are more bent out of shape because, “ …the fucking Oakland Raiders are so shitty this year!” Big freaking deal, man! Those millionaire athletes couldn’t care less about you, me or anyone else so why should you care so much about them?! Hey, Oakland, California is up to 114 homisides already this year! I'm much more pissed off about that than the Raiders win-loss record.
I could go on and on. The sad part is that no one would really care if I did. Besides, it seems that not many people have any ability what-so-ever to think about this because I am truly convinced we live in a society of non-thinkers. Yep. A society of dolts who couldn’t be bothered to read (and I don’t mean the news paper here people) or question and seek out the truth. We are being set up in a very Machivellian way and not many folks see it or even seem to care while the Bush Cartel are running off with the store.
We are being spoon fed fear in dogmatic ways every-single-day while at the same time being sold the latest SUV, cell phone and down loads as the rest of the planet is circling the drain. “Relax man and have a beer.” Sound paranoid? Well, maybe so but it has been said that the paranoid individual is the one with all of the facts at their disposal. Look around a bit and see what I mean. Oh, and not only will the revolution be televised but so will the end of the world…and it will probably sponsored by McDonald’s and Budweiser.

Jeff Lehman Heart of Gold


I received an email this morning from my friend, Amy Bingamon informing me of the passing of Junkyard Buddha’s front man Jeff Lehman. I knew Jeff casually through my record shop that I used to own and operate. Jeff was one of those customers you were always happy to see. He had a warm approach and was easy to talk with and he was very intelligent and funny.
A couple of months ago Jeff and I were playing email tag in regarding artwork for the Buddha’s. Jeff felt that my art style and understanding of music was a perfect fit for what he (they) were looking for and I couldn’t of agreed more.
We took a week or so of phone conversations to try and work out what the Buddha’s were looking for and then it was off to the races…almost. I was having a bit of trouble tuning in my head to what I wanted my hands to produce. I also have another, outside project that has absolutely nothing to do with my art work or music, but it is a commitment I signed onto last year and I have about 9 more weeks left of (who’s counting?) and it really takes up a huge chunk of my personal as well as professional life. Jeff understood this and told me to take my time and I told him I’d have it in a couple of weeks (ironically that was this week). Jeff was kind enough and big enough to cut a brother some slack and that, my dear friends goes a lot father than any diamonds, money or gold.
Jeff will be missed and all of us other musicians get to move up one spot and feably atempt to fill a huge place that was left by Jeff. Velocidad de dios, mi hermano.

Beauty from East Los


I really seem to be getting the hang of this blog thing because here I am with yet another music recommendation and I’m sure just about everyone who buys this album will love it! The brand new Los Lobos album The Town and the City is simply one of the most realized albums Los Lobos has done since Kiko. I am totally serious here. There was a period not too long ago where the boys were going from what seemed to be record label after record label and putting out 35 minute gems but not what most would consider total albums (Colossal Head and This Time being great records but far too short). When Good Morning Aztlan came out I thought, “Alright then! Here we go!” …Aztlan is a solid album that seemed to mix old Los Lobos, or pre-Kiko Lobos with Post-Kiko Lobos very well (My friend, musician/music collector and fellow Los Lobos fan Tony Palmer cites Los Lobos as quite possibly the Beatles of the 1980’s and 90’s. We both figured that Kiko was Los Lobos’ Rubber Soul album).
A couple of years later they released The Ride which was nice with some great cuts, but it was one of those albums where there seemed to be too many guest artists and not enough Los Lobos. They then released a few weeks later a companion EP Ride This which was a covers album of Los Lobos doing the guest artist’s music from The Ride Another must have if you already don't. Are you with me so far? Whoo! I don’t want to go on and on about it too much(too late?), so I’ll keep this blog short but I just wanted to tell the two or three of you who actually waste your time reading this that this album is an extremely beautiful, dreamy Chicano masterpiece. The album was produced by Los Lobos themselves which I don’t think they have done before. I have been playing this album since its release this past Tuesday at work, El Rancho de Skybunker around 4 to 6 times a day! Yes, it’s just that good. Also, great cover art by fellow Chicano cartoonist Jaime Hernandez (of the comic book Love & Rockets fame).
I recommend that you go out and buy this album right now….preferably at a local, independent CD/book store! My favorite cut so far is Little Things….WOW!

What Once Was Isn’t Anymore


Remember when tattoos were a stigma? I do. When and where I grew up usually only two types of people had a tattoo or multiple tattoos, a) you were either in the service or b) you were in the joint. In some cases in my family it was both. The war tattoos were something that every member of my family that got one eventually regretted getting. The prison tattoos, well let’s just say that those individuals (who are still alive anyway) are still “living the life” that those tattoos carry and each and every one on their bodies means something in the sub-cultural society that they inhabit within the confines of prison and the subsequent prison gangs for which they are representational.
However, on the streets in suburban America where I now reside there are small armies of men and women with their bodies covered entirely in tattoos. I’ve noticed a huge number of these neo-rockabilly types with pompadour hair-do’s, black primered hot rods and Betty Page look-a-like girl friends (with just as many tattoos) bopping around Marin county and I almost always smile to myself and wonder what they’ll be doing in ten to fifteen years when the party is over, but not all of the costume comes off.
Now, I don’t have anything against tattoos (I have some myself…well concealed), nor do I have anything against rockabilly or hot rods and I sure as hell don’t have a thing against Betty Page! I guess it just seems that the days of when something as personal (and artistic) as a tattoo held a lot more weight and was, for lack of a better term much more underground and individual. Now tattoos seem as common and commercial as a Nike swoosh across someone’s t-shirt, which brings me to certain t-shirts. CBGB’s t-shirts and Ramones t-shirts, twenty five plus years ago were an almost underground phenomenon to let other hipsters know you were in on the joke. Now the jokes on the consumer as these same two t-shirts are sold online as well as in most major department stores in any mall across America. In the past two years I have noticed that 9-out-of-10 people who wear a Ramones shirt or a CBGB’s shirt are usually male and under the age of fourteen. The last part of my rant is the middle aged guys who dress like they are still in junior high school. What with the grey (long) soul patch under the lip, a few silver earrings in each ear and the obligatory baseball cap worn backward. Yep, I’m sure they have the tattoos and are the 10th person (from the 9-out-of-10) who wears a Ramones/CBGB’s shirt. “Dude.” It’s not like I feel everyone at a certain age should wear a tie, work in a corporate office and play golf because, hey they’re already dead so…! No, but Jesus there are whole armies of idiots who think they’re “thinking” and they are not, well at least not for themselves.
I really have no answers and I certainly hope that I am not coming off as self-righteous or the like. These remarks are me merely wondering aloud. I still wear tennis shoes (mostly skate shoes for that matter) most of the time. I’m no different really. I wear t-shirts and jeans primarily in the winter and I still surf whenever there is a swell and on occasion I skateboard (I skated today to get a small coffee this morning before I settled in to work). Perhaps we are experiencing a sort of arrested development/adolescence in the cultural mainstream? Maybe it’s a need from a populace that is feeling even more disenfranchised and is crying out for attention, or maybe just maybe I’m reading way too into this and it’s far more basic. Maybe people just think that their new tattoo and Ramones shirt looks pretty damn cool. Period.

El Space Vato and the Poetry Reading

HIJOLE! Yet another rant! C’mon I have to make use of this blog thing so bare with me…I went out last night (which is almost worthy to report itself being somewhat of a shut-in) to see my dear friend poet/writer Josiah Luis Alderete as well as writer/poet Jon Longhi read at a club here in Marin. I, along with several other revelers were treated to a classic evening of reading as well as music (check out the local group Airport Sexy if you get the chance. Great hook-filled tunes).
Josiah is a great story teller and poet telling stories of junkies, saints and other urban street heroes as the unseen that plod along in life late at night through the shadows and alley ways of any city or in your mind. I would refer to Josiah as a Chicano Tom Waits, if you will but with a bit more grit. His stories are filled with imagery and references sprinkled with Calo (or Spanglish) or straight-up Spanish that are poignant as well as hilariously humor filled. I was extremely happy to hear my favorite, the tale of El Chengon dishwasher; Don Miguel! The only down side to Josiah’s work, if there is any down side to be had at all, is that his work is sadly under published.
Jon Longhi opened, if you will for Josiah with hilarious tales of his exploits with his fellow east coast transplant, a guy that goes by the name Dada Trash. The stories this night featured Jon and Dada from LSD dosed doormen to my favorite of the 10” fleshy dildo bong! Jon’s latest book; Wake Up and Smell the Beer is out now from Manic D Press as well as his others. These are excellent books you should get a hold of because, let’s face it, you can only watch so much T.V. so get out there and read fer chrissakes!

It’s time for me to rant about music just a bit. Those of you who already know me you are pretty used to (or sick of) this behavior from me.
I just want to throw down some words of admiration for a group that is new to me, but probably very familiar to you others (much thanks to Curtis “BPM” Cirillo for the tip). The Bad Plus is the name of the group and they are a three piece outfit featuring all acoustic instruments (very different for the youngsters these days) with piano, up-right bass and drums respectively.
It’s no secret that I am a huge jazz fan and to find something musical in any genre to get excited about these days is definitely a great thing so let me tell ya: these guys can really swing. The only thing that makes me wince a bit is that they seem to get lumped in with the “jam band” moniker a lot, but I don’t see/hear that in the sense that they are not another Medenski, Martin and Wood. No. They play songs in somewhat more of a jazz idiom where the songs actually have a head, a middle section and so on. They also do some interesting covers of Nirvana and Blondie. They definitely have a good sense of humor and have freakin’ chops to spare without it being over the top. In other words they play with fire and taste. The music is very dense and texural at times which I like (see: the Lounge Lizards Voice of Chunk).
Now how they play live may be a whole other issue and perhaps that is where they get the jam band thing tossed in there. I haven’t seen them live as of yet but plan to this November. I’ll let you know then….unless I see you there. You might not dig jazz and that’s cool, but you should give these guys a listen and maybe you’ll expand your musical horizons just a little more….and that’s a good thing. Free your mind and your ass will surely follow. Go buy their albums now.

Oh, apologies to my sister for the “worthless” statement in my last blog. Sorry, sis.