Riding Dirty

My 25th Birthday

2009-03-20T12:16:00.000-07:00

March 12th was on of my favorite days on tour. We had a blast the night before in PHX. Stayed up until 5 or 6 in the morning. Roman, Katie and the PHX crew showed us a great time. There were 5 cases of beer, 2 handles of vodka, one bitchin bonfire, and plenty of grass to go around. We were warned not travel down to Highway 8, and to avoid Yuma, Az at all cost. I guess ANS had some issues down there last year, which led to their singer being incarcerated. I had been through Yuma with VPR in 2006 and I found that town was full of tweekers and trailers. So we took 10 to 78. 78 was a stretch of road that connected 10 and 8, down the border of California and New Mexico. This was an incredible drive, I even got behind the wheel for a while, as you can see. Along 78 we discovered that our show with San Diego's the Widows had been canceled. For those of you that are unaware the Widows are San Diego's lone rock experience. Well we sorta lucked out cause we got thrown on another show. Unfortunately it was with some up tempo stooges, but a show is a show. We cruised down to Washington Street Skate Park after the show.

I was beat. I was on three hours of sleep. We arrived to WSVT and I curled up into a ball in the back of the bus. Everyone else with exception of Cory slept in the back bowl of Washington Street. It was kind of ironic that the Enterprise Car dealership that VPR rented from was across the street from the park. I had kinda been there before. Scully lived/ worked on Washington Street last year. It was really cool to be embed ed in something that meant alot to him. It meant alot to me to have the Rowdy Ones play Saturn Bar, and see the house I lived in down in New Orleans. Unfortunately my camera was dead the whole time we were at WSVT, but I lent Cory my extra SD card, so I grabed a few flicks with his camera.

Dan, Cory, and myself was to get BBQ supplies and went to town. There is a great grill set up at WSVT, lots of details like mosaic tiles and stone skulls. The whole place is a trip. Not that I know anything about skateparks, but this has to be the greatest one in the world. It is difficult to skate(I know, I tried) there is amazing art work adorning the walls and gates, and like I said, what grill set up. It reminded me of being in Florence and being in awe of the Duomo(the world largest free standing Dome). WSVT is certainly a must see from then most harden skater to anyone that appreciates independent art.

Like I said earlier my camera battery was dead, and as amazing that WSVT is, they have no electric. We shot down to Snatch Park, which was another independently built skate park. It is located behind the football stadium, underneath a highway. Not as developed at Washington street, no transitions. It's more of a street park with various quarters, boxes and rails. Alot more private than WSVT. It is important to note that our transmission was on it's last legs at this point. We had been pumping fluid into it as fast as it leaked out. We beat the shit outa that thing. By the time we made it through the desert our trany was begging for mercy. It sounded like we had a family of dolphins living below us. We really lucked out that we did not get stuck on 78 or something. The first night we got to San Diego the bus would not budge from in front of the club. It took a bunch of us pushing it until it found it's gear. We made it to the show that night with Tipper's Gore and Gross Negligence, two incredible bands. The venue was an old hotel, converted into an all in one music shop/ school and recording studio.

I had never seen a crowd reaction like this for the Rowdy Ones. Granted a dozen or so people at this show were skaters that were buddies with Scully, there were plenty of other kids who weren't that still went off. This circle pit lasted for two songs, and it was as intense as a pit could get. There were some real meat heads joking out.

Julio's(Gross Negligence) 1964 or 5 Mercury Comet.

Our bus did not want to leave the venue, but eventually we hit the road and headed straight to Ocean Beach, on the eve of my birthday. We made it(barley) to a service station, I grabbed my Mexican blanket and the crew went to the Pacific Ocean. I had some home grown stuff from PHX that I had saved for the ocean. I walked barefoot the the water and blessed my self with the sign of the cross, we fucking made it. That fucking bus made it to the Pacific Ocean. Scully decided that sleeping on the beach was not the way to go, so we walked to his friends house and knocked on the door at 2 in the morning. No was home. So we did the most logical thing, we slept in the backyard. I slept underneath a trampoline. If I knew we weren't gonna get fucked with, I would have slept on the trampoline. Again I am omitting some really funny details, I'll let Scully tell you all about it when he releases his tour journal.

After I did my laundry, and ate 5 rolled tacos for $3.75, I found out that the service station we stopped at refused to service our transmission. Said that their garage wasn't big enough to handle our bus. Keep in mind it took alot of convincing to get our van to drive at this point, and as we tried to move the bus we met this man. The most pissed off old man in San Diego.

One of his bumper stickers proclaims that he "Loves his bad ass attitude". He was pissed because our bus was partially blocking the sidewalk, not that he couldn't get around, he just wanted someone to yell at. We called him an asshole, then he said that he was a bigger asshole than the four of us standing there. When I went to take a picture of him wagging his finger at us, he busted outta there like he had a 426 Hemi in his motorized wheelchair. Everyone in California is a speed freak, even the handicapped.

Roll job next door to the Snatch Park

Getting up in San Diego(Editorial note, my birthday was cool. I may not have gotten laid, I may have been filthy, I didn't even make it to Oki Dogs in LA, but so far I was at a beach, slept outside, saw some cool cars, skated, tagged a wall, saw a killer show, sold some merch, I hope every other birthday can be as cool)

We went to the famous Tower Bar for .25 cent wings. I drank an Olympia for the first time, it was great. The wings were being deep fried on the tail gate of a pickup truck. The bartender had a hard time cooking them or something, we spent a while there and only two orders of wings came out, at this point it was time to go, or we were gonna be really late. Long story short we could not find the venue. At this point we could barley reach 20 mph, Scully puts me in the navigator chair and says "Mattitude, you're in charge". I decide that we should go to Oki Dogs then maybe rest up at my friends apartment in Burbank. No such luck. At 10:20 pm March 14th 2009 the bus died on the 5. Alex(Scully's buddy from S.D. who joined the tour)called AAA but we were too big for a tow. Some California Highway Patrol cops had mercy on us and pushed us off the highway to a gas station. It was scary as shit, hitting that ramp at 40 mph, the whole time the cops are on the PA telling us to stay off the wall. As we started to push the van into a parking space I noticed Pickle Buckets(Dan) had a following. He found some hippies smoking weed at the gas station. We proceeded to party down with them, and we planned a mission to Huntington Beach for the. Figured it would be a great opportunity to sell merch.

We partied into the wee hours at the gas station. The guy behind the register was real cool with us hanging out. Dan, Jimmy and myself slept behind a pickup truck. It took a little convincing Dan, he thought some some would drive off in the middle of the night and crush our legs. The tires were kinda flat, so I figured we were cool.

This is where I slept the night of my birthday.

In the morning our surfer hippie buddies returned. We pushed the bus to the transmission shop. After wards we took of to HB and panhandled/ sold merch. I made plans to get picked up by my buddy Jimmy. He came at the end of the day we took Logan to the airport and I rested in a "comfy" apartment that night. I spent the last week building a website for my friends girl, the Rowdy Ones have been busy raising money for a rental van. So at the moment the tour hangs in the balance.

"Whatever happens, happens" Two Man Advantage

"Texas Trouble" Part II

2009-03-18T19:01:00.000-07:00

I awoke to the sounds of Jimmy Russel removing the air box from the engine bay. I crawled out of my sleeping bag and began wrenching, barefoot! Fucking redneck shit man. The next 8-10 hours looked like this photograph. We wrestled the alternator out of the bus, Jimmy skated off to snag a replacement. Well after several hours, the alternator clearly was not going back in, Jimmy and Scully merked back to the auto store to find one that fit. Keep in mind I am simplified several tense hours of sweat, scraped skin and oil stains. Our sound track to this horrifying experience was Homeless John.

John was a local who was described to us at a little paranoid, amongst other things. He got blackout drunk the night before, woke up covered in marker and almost got his ass kicked by a recently released prisoner. His breakfast was Kentucky Gentleman, his brunch was a 40oz of Old English, and his lunch was another bottle of OE. He spouted facts that were false, opinions that were confusing and convictions that were down right terrifying. The worst part was that he would not stop. Nothing was held back, religion, politics, conspiracy and even a little car talk. "Cars suck cause you don't know whats wrong with them, bikes are great because you can look at them and know exactly what is wrong". No that he was wrong but in the 6th hour of rtying put and engine bolt through a alternator bracket his voice became quite fustrating. Instead of beating the shit out of him, which alot of broken down bands might do to relive tension, I put a tape recorder by hi feet and got it on tape. Later that night we got high and laughed our ass off at how ridulous he was. TST 002, coming soon.

Scully stenciled "Killer Rock Box" TST 001 while the other Rowdy Dudes worked on the bus. Needles to say we eventually departed from Awful House, with the alternator properly(kind of) installed, we took off to Tuscon. We made it about two block and the power died. A cop car even got on the mic and told us to "Get that vehicle off the road". We pulled into a parking lot across the street from a service station, filled up on terrible grocery store sandwiches and crashed out in the van. The next day we replaced the alternator with a properly functioning one. We also needed tow new batteries. We lost the El Paso show the previous night, so we were in a real hurry to get to Tuscon. And there we were bracing ourselves for a 15 hour drive.

Desert half pipe, and free hot dogs.

Getting up in El Paso.(Alot of stupid shit happened in El Paso, but I'm not getting into it, wait for Scully's tour journal for all that)

Hitlers Death Car(The Thing, NM)

11 year old thrasher from Tuscon, AZ. I forget his name, but he plays in a band called Retard Riot(not to be confused with the one and only RETARD RIOT artist from New York. This kid skates pools, play drums really well, and was sent to the principals office for listening to CFL's "Party Time".

Retard Riot covering CFL's "Party Time"

Roman's 1967 Ford Mustang. He threw a killer party for us in Pheonix.

The Crew in PHX.

The next post will wrap up the epic conclusion of the Rowdy Ones US tour, or will it? We'll find out in a few days.

The Rowdy Ones In... "Texas Trouble"

2009-03-17T22:55:00.000-07:00

The Rowdy Ones charged into the southwestern part of the country on March 7th. The previous night had been a mixture of both positive and negative events. First off we played with some killer bands at the Broken Neck in Austin(Texas' answer to the Wheelchair). The bus' batteries had stopped charging, so our vehicle was dead in front of the venue. I was given apartment keys to a vacant spot across town from my old friend Little Adam. When Scully, Dan and myself arrived we were unsure of trying to open the wrong apartment, lots of tension. We eventually entered the right spot, took showers and slept nicely on a clean plush carpet. The bus' batteries were charged and we met up with the other dudes and took off to San Antonio. It was on this ride I first heard the transmission chirping slightly. When we arrived to San Antonio and the sun began to set we realized our lights were dim and CD player did not work. OH SHIT! No electric. We made it to the Awful House and began to drink, heavily. Tempted to start pulling to alternator out in preparation for a alt. swap the next day, we decided that we would be better off putting it off until the next morning.

The show had a higher energy level than the previous nights. We were broke and needed money for an alternator and that long trip to Tucson. I think the nights the Rowdy Ones felt a little desperate, a better show was had. Rowdy Ones wanted to prove to these towns that they were worth the money that was needed to repair the van and keep touring. More often than not on this tour Rowdy Ones were on point, and unleashed their own brand of New England frustration.

All the shirts were on display in San Antonio, we needed the duckets. Pardon the interruption, but photobucket is performing sight maintenance right now, so that puts a hold on this post. Will the Rowdy Ones make it to San Diego? What of the transmission that started to whine in Texas? These and a bunch of other questions will be addressed tomorrow. Stay Tuned.

NOLA/ AUSTIN

2009-03-07T12:10:00.000-08:00

Cold and tired, ready to goto New Orleans

Warm and happy, beer and girls on bikes, NOLA

Proper NOLA Dirt Rider

Hand Painted Who scooter

Hollis of Fat Stupid Ugly People

Shred Head, thrashed harder than everyone

Gotta Run to San Antonio. NO time for details. Thanks Baile, Saturn Bar, K, Adam, Marty, Brian, Shred Head, FSUP, and the venue last night.

Come On! Get Rowdy!

2009-03-03T08:20:00.000-08:00

Since my last post I have relocated to Philadelphia, and jumped on tour with the Rowdy Ones. Great shows in New Brunswick and Philly so far, driving south today, head up New Orleans, Saturn Bar show Thursday night! Many Thanks to Killin It, Hard Chillers, Know Your Role, Matt Bones, Acid Reflux and Model Home.

We need tires.

Killin It right before someone head-butted the light bulb during a Beastie Boys cover.

Fat Sandwiches.

God Bless America, screening tour shirts.

Know Your Role, power-violenced everyone's face off.

Fall Review

2008-12-07T10:52:00.001-08:00

No excuses for the lack of activity on this blog over the last two months. However, no lack of cool shit going down, here are a few events that I was proud to be a part of over the course of the fall.

This is a tee shirt I helped the Mugs put together for a recent reunion show. For those of you who are ignorant to the Mugs, they are New York Hard Core's best kept secret. Based out of Maspeth Queens, they have played since 2000 with a rotating line-up to mixed reviews. In 2002 they recruited New York Hard Core legend Jay Rogan(Eyes of Hate, No Self Pride, and currently Caught In A Trap)on drums to solidify their line-up.

After recording the classic "Sex, Mugs and Rock n' Roll" in 2003 with some guy named Don Furry, they played a few memorable gigs around the Lower East Side, including an epic St. Patricks day show with Murphy's Law. Mugs shows often ended abruptly, sometimes in violence, sometimes due to legal infractions. One thing is for sure the Mugs have always been impulsive and exciting. You never know what will happen. Well you kinda have an idea something is gonna result in them getting shut down or kicked out, but how will it happen?

The show was held at an anonymous Spanish cuisine restaurant near the Financial district in NYC. There was a great alley next to the place where I found Sammy(bass) and a few stray Budweisers. As you can tell Sammy already had his share. Inside the restaurant I found Metal Thrashing Matt(Guitar) and Legendary clothing designer/ hardcore impresario Rat Bones hawking their ware's.

Rat Bones did good at that show. He sold some shirts to yuppies who thought they went out for a night of fine dinning. Little did they know what they were getting into. Phil Mugs(Vocals) even got in on the fun.

Olde York open up the show, and from the first notes it was clear that the management did not realize what they had in store for themselves. The owner came out with some sort of Noiseometer, to measure the disciple level of the speakers. Look closely it is in the left hand of the Lou Pinella looking motherfucker.

Well this guy busted Olde York's balls through out the entire set, and it was clear that the Mugs should get on and try to play as many songd as possible before the club owner shuts it down.

The place went off immediately. It was an all ages show, filled with people who were too young for the Mugs the first time around.

Such Mugs hits included "Sack Attack", "How Much Do The Lions Cost?" and "I Get What I Want". Someone ripped open a bag of flour after Phil made a crack about coke. The energy was great, but it put the management on their toes. They responded by taking the microphones away. No worries, the crowd helped Reverend Phil spread the word.

After a couple of songs without a mic the set was over, so was the show. There was a big rush to the door to get a refund, which I think some people were granted. There was alot of under aged kids left outside the club and in the alley, drinking, loitering, pissing off(and on) the restaurant. There was a rumor cops on horses and riot gear showed up, but I was long gone by then. All in all, another Mugs show. The following weekend after that Mugs show I went to Vermont with Chris Balrtus to pick up Caitlin's 1964 Plymouth Valiant. Chris purchased this car from "Dr. Valiant" Andy Whittenbourne of New Jersey. Story goes after he evacuated New Orleans in his 1965 Valiant, he picked this one up out of Hemmings Motor News, and he's still getting his $500 out of it.

I love this car. Lot's of good memories associated with it. My senior year of college we drove it to New Orleans. Visited a few times after that. Cruising the Crescent City streets at night was always a treat in that '64. It has a 225 cu in. slant six engine. Not as economical as the 170, but it has good pep by comparison.

This is a 1962 Dodge Polara that is located near Chris' parent's house. Wonder whats under the hood. Maybe a Max Wedge, maybe.

This is Chris' other 1964 Valiant. It's a two door with a shitty flame job. We built a fire and picked the thing apart. We took apart the interior, lifted the dog dishes, snatched the carb, anything that was worth money or would deteriorate while the car is waiting to get refurbished.

Back in Sea Cliff we see here is a 1922 Dodge Brothers Series I Touring car. Brand new it cost $985, it had 5 seats and a 114 in. wheelbase. It has a 4 cylinder engine and is quiet as a Nun on Sunday. This particular car is owned by Glen Head resident Tom Malloy, who is a sculpture artist and lawn mower mechanic.

Contrary to popular belief the Dodge brothers were not Jewish as one might think due to the star of David being on their hood emblem. The six pointed star stood for Dodge's six points of excellence, what ever those were. I think he said that the car was original, and never restored. Whatever the case maybe, the last time it was inspected was 1963-64. I want this sticker for my car.

Finally one of my favorite nights of the fall was the "Cathy"(you know, that awful comic strip) inspired art show that my buddy Pete threw at the Chief Magazine gallery space in Bushwick. I had just moved out of my apartment in Brooklyn, back to my parents house, so it was nice to get down with some Brooklyn folks for the first time since I had moved. Here are a couple of people who made the art show/party possible...

Pete, he threw the shin dig.

Erica, she got the party pumping, and submitted a cool photograph.

Glen, the wheel man, he owns a versatile van, part utility, part party machine.

Chirs Riggs, I don't know this guy, he was not involved in the show per say, he showed up with a marker and got busy, good work.

This is what I submitted, I would have included pictures of other peoples submissions, but this post is getting crowded.
I've got some good posts planned for December, including a look at the "new" ABC NO RIO! and a long over due tribute to Yankee Stadium.

Get Rowdy

2008-09-29T20:04:00.000-07:00

Last Friday the Rowdy Ones(sludge-skate punk from New England) took a trip to Brooklyn. They sat in their converted mini school bus underneath the BQE and listened to a compilation of unreleased songs by old Berkley bands. After a night of skating and consumption of beer they drove to West Philadelphia, along the way they got high on spray paint and pot. They arrived at the Shore House anxious to make up for an abbreviated performance that had gone down several months prior. After wards they printer tee shirts and posters. This is what it looked like.

This show was intended to be at FDR skatepark. I think it was moved due to the shitty weather. Part of the allure to going to Philly with The Rowdy Ones was to catch Partysaurus Wrecks again. I wish I could tell you that they played well and that they are the second coming of Deep Purple, but I can't. I can tell you Nothing Is Over(it could have been Hat and War)played a great cover of "Young Till I Die". I was real shitty myself by the time P Wrecks played. My main concentration other than drinking beer from a cup, was watching all the people at the party coming up with creative ways to drink beer.

Guitar Beer-o

Here you have xMARTYFOULx hoisting a local fella while he shotguns a 12oz Sparks.

Now we have the same dude doing a keg stand with his bike.

Let us not forget the classic Keg Stand, Nice Form!

And of course there is Jello. It looks to me like he's regurgitating beer back into the keg. What a nice guy. I have several more wild photos from this show, but the pins in my hand are killing me, so they will have to wait for another day. Thanks again to the Rowdiest guys I know for letting me tag along.

"Purgatory" or "The Old Man and the Hat"

2008-09-12T09:09:00.000-07:00

Like I mentioned in my previous post, my right ring finger is banged up. In fact I am getting surgery later this afternoon. For the past two weeks I have been waiting to see what is going to happen, weather a splint would reset it, or weather I needed to be operated on. Needles to say I have had quite a bit of time on my "hand", this is what I have been doing with it.

Jake from Let Me Crazy threw a wing ding of a Labor Day party. Complete with a keg, several beer pong tables, and a kitchen full of liquor. Every one's good buddy Mick Cantone served up a bottle of his Grandmothers 44 year old Canadian Club Whiskey. I don't think that stuff really ages in a glass bottle, but it was very delicious anyway. On top of that, it was nice to drink a whiskey from a bottle as old as my car.

Let Me Crazy had just gotten back from a 5 day tour, which went well, so everyone was in good spirits. The Autumn People, Eula, and Jay Tea joined LMC and Playing Dead in Jake's backyard. Good crop of bands. I had not seen Eula yet, but they really stood out to me. They are a female fronted indie band from Connecticut. What really caught my ear was how bass driven their songs were, and through Let Me Crazy's bass rig it really had my attention. I don't tend to follow current three piece indie bands, but with Eula I'll make an exception. Their demo was real good too.

The Autumn People posing with Edna, and Momma Fentres.

Meanwhile back in Sea Cliff some things never change. Human beings between the ages of 12 and 21 years old existing is a hardship that The Village of Sea Cliff has had to endure for 125 years. This photograph captures a 70 year old man disciplining a 15 year old kid for riding his BMX bike down a set of stairs. There is a sign in front of said stairs outlawing biking, skating and rollerblading, but who put Sgt. Bring Down in charge of taking a kid's baseball hat(seen in his 70 year old right hand). That would soon escalate to the kid taking the old man's hat. The old man seemed down right surprised by this action, but as I can recall growing up, if someone snatched your hat, you would go for the hat, it's a pride thing. Wouldn't you know it the kid looked good in the old man's Indiana Jones hat. Now at this point the kid books it around to corner with out his bike, and the old man gimps after him. Just as all looked lost for the old man' hat, a very likely hero in a unlikely situation came to his aid. None other that Teddy Roosevelt himself(a local guy who dresses up like our nations 26th president) came out of the restaurant pictured in the background of the photograph and grabbed the kid by the arm(too bad he wasn't in his Ruff Rider gear) and scolded him. What a lovely Sunday it was on the Village Green.

I have been spending a bit of time with my ol' buddy K as well. Aside from restoring old homes and welding the occasional tall bike, K digs drinking beer on his porch. He took a night off from doing that to go catch diner at Chicken Delight. After wards we went to Savers in Hempstead and got silly in the used toy section. He must have found four toys that looked like, or could act like bongs. Not being the pothead type I found he had a strong skill set for finding bong like toys. Puss I never thought that picture of him eating beans from a PBR can would be beat. I stand corrected.

Special kudos to Jake and the whole Freemont clan for throwing a great party. Also to Alyse from Eula for being sly and snapping a picture of me and the Sub-pars with out me noticing. Two big thumbs down for not having insurance in America. Get covered if you are not, trust me you don't want to go through what I have had to deal with this week, and I'm not talking about seeing Teddy Roosevelt take down a 15 year old.

Saturn Bar Car Club

2008-09-02T12:11:00.000-07:00

Let me preface this post by saying this, my right hand is a little busticated so I am, typing with one hand. Needles to say details from the amazing Rumblers Custom Kills & Thrills Car Show maybe lacking, but hey, a picture is worth a thousand words, right? K and I had been daydreaming about BBQing the Rumblers Show for quite sometime. We all arrived on the late side, and there was no room for our cars to park in th main lot. Bummer. With no plan B in place, we parked in an abandon gas station across from the show. As you can see things could not have worked out any better.

'64 Dart, '65 Valiant, '60 Falcon

Beans cooked in PBR can, who says yankees can't be red necks?

Jay Rogan getting rowdy, '59 Triumph

'61 Impala

'64 Max Wedge

Vermefug and Friends!

2008-08-13T13:06:00.000-07:00

Where do I begin? First off I have been having camera problems on top of camera problems. I broke the screen of my Nikon 4200, then I forgot to buy a disposable camera for my totally bitchin couple of days I spent with Vermefug last weekend. I was left with just my phone camera, which as you will see sufficed in the situation. The day after I got back I shot with my Nikon EM 35mm. When It was time to switch the roll would you believe the camera ate the film? Since I am not full time at office I work at yet, and I would still like to enjoy the little things in life like bus trips and eating everyday, think I am limited to digital phone pics and 35 mm film. On with the show.

I spent the better part of last week crafting a stellar tee shirt and trying to get it printed. The problem was not time management, getting too stoned(which I did anyway), or drinking(which I did non of), it was ABC NO RIO. Instead of reveling in being a Hipster in Hipsterburg and paying $6 for dixie cups of beer at McCarren Park Pool, I went to ABC to print shirts after sitting inside all morning and doing art work. Of course contrary to the flyer that clearly states they are open Sundays, they were not. "Fine, whatever man", I said to myself, "I'm gonna walk home". So I did, across the bridge, up Shredford Avenue, all the way to Greenpoint, with my giant screen, and art work. Here is a tip for you attention getters out there, forget wild attire, neon pants, or giant sun glasses, just walk around with a ghost image on a silk screen, you'll get more looks than a girl wearing shear tee shirt with a nipple showing. "It's ok, I'll go to ABC on Wednesday", well of course the volunteer does not show up Wednesday either. Patience running low. I show up at 6:30 the following day and there was a line out the door to get screens made up. I waited 4 hours, but I did have a fresh screen that only cost me $5, and about 9 hours of my life. Did I mention that on Tuesday I carried 6 dozen tee shirts to my house from Union Square. Do you have any idea how many tee shirts 6 dozen is? Oy Vey.

It's ok, I have to remind myself of that. I am way satisfied right now. Despite the bullshit that comes up In a daily routine, it is all worth it. Once you have your merch table set up at a shit hole in Worcester, Mass. and you are a few beers in, LIFE IS PERFECT. At least for me it is. Vermefug was pumped too. They had merch and they didn't have to commit hours of their lives to getting it done. I could have just handed the shirts off and kept a low profile in New York, but after getting the screen made, and printing shirts till 1 am, I had the itch. The itch to climb on a bus in Chinatown, arrive in Boston 6 hours later, get lost on the Boston T, arrive in Brookline around 9:30, only to arrive at the Wheelchair(Worcester) around 11:15, and the show hadn't even started yet. Yeah, that itch.

Ahh the Wheelchair. This place holds a very special place in my heart. Now before you rush to judge(I'm talking to you local Worcester dude), let me explain. the WC is a lofted warehouse that is rented for $800 a month. It is loaded with skate ramps, pipes, couches, and graffiti. It's sole purpose, if any, is to facilitate skaters, punks, drinkers and drug addicts. It falls under very little if any jurisdiction. Maybe I like it so much because New York just does not have one to call it's own. And if it did/does every fair weather, cocaine addled, free beer seeking punk/hipster/scum bag/idiot would ruin it immediately. Or Vice magazine would show up and trash it in an online blog. Now I don't want to be accused of talking shit on the Internet, so let me make my self clear right now, I am talking shit. The old lady that runs the Wheelchair ripped the touring bands off. Somehow $250 went missing from the door. I suggested first checking her Vagina, then maybe her nose. But hold on, I am getting ahead of my self.

Cross Examination(The epic party dudes or whatever) played with Vermefug and Razormaze(Bitch'n 80's style metal from Boston). Let me say this about Cross Examination, I have not seen them before, but have followed them for years through Myspace, and friends of mine who have played with them. They are in my mind one of those national touring bands you can't wait to have play your town.(ie: Annihilation Time, Municipal Waste, ANS, and I guess if you are from Texas, Vermefug)They were very solid, as a touring band should be. Good crowd reaction, but I wonder why they played first? Vermefug had a really good show, complete with air horn, strobe light and fog machine. I think they got the crowd really amped. The crowd would have torn the place apart if CE closed the show. Instead Cross Examination had no issues with tearing the place apart when they did not get paid. I remember being loaded outside the WC when I had this weird "Dazed and Confused" moment. I walked through all the groups of people talking, and everyone was a buzz about how the bands were not going to get paid. I heard a shriek from the inside,

"WHERE'S THE MONEY!",

"I don't know, it's gone"

"FIND IT!"

It was at this moment when an unidentified member of CE tried throwing a couch down a concrete ramp. It was more of a spectacle than an attempt to actually get money from the old lady who runs the WC. I didn't think they would beat it out of her, every one was just pissed they were getting stiffed. They must have sold some merch at least. I mean they got $15 from me. The first star of the night was Mr. John Shirley. He paid The Fug and CE $40 out of his own pocket. Our second star, this guy...

I guess he tours with CE and video tapes them, that's right, VHS recorder, ala Marty McFly or Clark Grizzwald. Had the total late 80's early 90's party duder thing going on. He's like the old dudes I see at car shows with life size replica Elvis Presley mannequins in their 1959 Chrysler 300 convertibles. Totally dedicated to a particular style of an era. Rock on VHS Party Dude! Our third star goes to Ginn. Thank you for facilitating a great place to party and do what you want, despite the fact you ripped off my friends. Special thanks to Sam, Alex and Razormaze for driving, putting us up, and putting up with a little late night cleaning. Ask Nate, or Adam for the details.

Mid Summer Review

2008-07-30T11:02:00.000-07:00

With July nearly through and very few blogs to show for it, I have some catching up to do. This month has been jammed with 40+ hour work weeks, and lots adventure packed weekends. The weekend following my Philly trip, I spent a good deal of time on Long Island. Went to Bellmore Cruise night with Mr. and Mrs. Baltstern, where we met up with every ones favorite New Orleans homeowner, K. Got a few good pics, but I really like this Ed Roth inspired rod.

Afterwards I was so hungry. The first few burger places we went to were closed, so we ended up at some diner in Freeport. Equipped with my appetite, and a Whoopie Cushion I picked up earlier that day, we went on to be one of the most obnoxious tables this place had ever seen.
Anytime the waitress, waiter, bus boy or other patron would walk by we would let out the "Bronx Cheer" with in the Whoopie Cushion. As immature as that sounds we had such a good time, K even said that he hadn't laughed that hard in a long time.

The next day Andy Kle and I went down to Jones Beach. Kinda uneventful. The ride down the Meadowbrook was great. Cruisin the Dart on the highways that were developed my Robert Moses is kind of a trip. The Long Island highway system was built post WWII for cars just like mine, not theses modern super-machines that you'll see around now, but for daily commuter shit boxes.

Sometime during the course of July Glen and I went fishing with my old man. It was killer. Boated a few stripped bass, and a few fluke that were not big enough to keep. After that we fed a whole family of Sea Robbins with fluke bait we decided to call it a day. For those of you who are out of the loop, a Sea Robbin is a pre-historical fish that has wings, spikes, and barks. What a pain is the ass that those things are. They eat your bait, and never get off your hook with out a a fight.

The highlight of the summer thus far was attending the Major League Baseball All-Star Game. My cousin came through with tickets, in a big way. He has always been what I refer to as a Yankee Stadium "Pirate". Ever since we were kids we have been going to games, and he has been getting away with shit. Autographs, good seats, more autographs, he's always been able to get away with what ever he wants. My grandfather calls it manipulation, I see it more as charisma.

Well charisma, manipulation, I call it 3rd row behind that National League dugout at the Home Run Derby. We even had better seats that Al Leiter, who sat a few rows behind us. The next night was even more unbelievable, if you could believe that. Due to legal ramifications I can't go into all the fun we had at the All-Star Game, but I'm telling you, it was killer.

Wouldn't you know it, after I had all that fun at the All-Star Game, I broke my camera. Same one that I had for almost 4 years, the good ol' Nikon 4200. It left me unable to take some great shots of me working in the office the following Saturday and Sunday. I worked on a real cool pitch with some higher ups, so I didn't really mind missing a weekend. Fortunately Glen came through in a big way and picked me up that Saturday afternoon and drove a van full of people to a swimming hole in New Jersey, then we sent to see The Dark Night at a drive in. Very ill.

The following weekend was partially spent back in Philly. Caught ANS, and Retard Strength. Didn't catch a staph infection, which was a concern because I got a fresh tattoo from Patt Attack, then went to the show at Disgraceland a few hours later. Like I said My camera is busticated, so Mia let me take pictures with her camera.

..."it's gonna be a big dick day".

Gotta a lot of of great stuff planned for August. Rumbler Car Show on the 23rd, plus I am trying to get a few '64 rides to roll over to Shea Stadium for a tailgate. More than likely to end up in Philly at some point before the end of the month as well. Can't afford to replace my digital camera right now, so looks like I might be shooting film. More cool shit to come.

July Phourth 2008

2008-07-07T08:07:00.000-07:00

Oh man, what a bangin holiday weekend I had. In late March it was annouced that Party Time Records was going to throw a festival in Worcester, Massachusetts. I highly annticipated hanging out with kids I rarely get to see, releasing the long awaited Shred Bundy/ Rowdy One split 7", even getting a chance to reunite with The Shit. Due to venue problems none of this would happen 4th of July weekend. With some killer plans left for dead I decided that staying in New York was not an option. I would take my '64 Dodge Dart on it's maiden voyage out of state lines to Philadelphia where the "Punx Picnic" would take place. There is no one else that would appreciate a weekend of Blunts, Beer, Bands and BBQ, more than Mr. Mugs himself Matt D. It had been a while since I'd been out of town with Mugs, needless to say we had a great time.

First off we left New York Midnight of the 4th to beat the traffic getting down there. We had a rather uneventful drive, and to my car's credit, it ran like a champ all weekend. Special thanks to Brother Par for helping me change my oil and filter the day before. We pulled into a 7-11 in West Philly for a late nigh snack. We ended up buying a pack of Phillies and two Dijorno Pizzas. After arriving to Patt Attack's pad, we warmed up and consumed a french bread pizza and went to sleep. The pizza reeked a bit of havoc on our stomachs, as a result Patt's bathroom was occupied for most of the morning.

We arrived to the park that held the Punx Picnic. What a great sight it was. Beer openly being swilled, meat being devoured at a rapid pace. The punk kids swimming in a municipal pool reminded me of Caddy Shack when they let the Caddies swim in the club pool for 15 minutes. Unfortunately no one released a Baby Ruth into the abyss. My favorite part of the afternoon was playing softball. Jordan(Vinny) brought a garbage can full of softball supplies. He said that there a a weekly punk softball game in Philly. This motivated me to consider relocating for about a second. Instead I think I will just recruit a team of rag-tag ball players to take on the Philly kids one of these days.

So after yet another full summer day in the fun and sun it was off to South Philly for a show. I guess the original plan included the show taking place at the BBQ, but the kids organizing the event could not attain the proper permits. This could not have worked out better because the venue was fucking awesome. I am not just throwing f-bombs around for the hell of it, the show was held in what seemed to be a Unitarian Church. Everything was new and clean. No one who actually ran the place was there, it was kinda on loan to who ever booked the show. There were couches with passed out kids to draw on. Mugs and I even found a stair well to smoke blunts in, granted we were looking for roof access to shoot fireworks, but it wasn't a bad "door" prize. What kept on blowing me away was the lack of interest the Philadelphia police showed in a hundred kids drinking on the sidewalk and lighting fireworks. Granted they more than likely had bigger fish to fry, but I am so used to New York's Finest busting chops at the drop of a hat. I saw so many squad cars role by and not even look twice at what was going on. Meanwhile upstairs in the venue Hip Cops, Nothing is Over and Vexed Youth among others churned out a killer show. The mayhem outside found it's way inside for Partysaurus Wrecks. There was a lot of talk about this band while I was in Philly, I wanted to see if the band lived up to the killer logo Patt Attack designed for them. (Tyrannosaurus-Rex riding a Bones Brigade board, eating Dorritos, smoking a blunt and a bong, snorting coke while wearing a flip hat and Vans...epic)

Partysaurus Wrecks were real great. The energy and enthusiasm of the Philly kids was intoxicating. I think everyone in that room was into it, and a good majority of them made that perfectly clear. Musically they are a party punk band whose riffs, vocals and mentality follow those of Murphys Law, Municipal Waste and No Redeeming Social Value. No reinventing the wheel here, just getting it really drunk and making it go fast and hard.

The night eventually ran it's course and we ended up at Cassa de Patt for another night and another Dijorno Pizza, pepperoni this time. Patt could not partake in the Block Party out side of Disgraceland on day 2. He had to go make the doughnuts. On our way to South Philly we hit up a record store. Mugs got Anthrax's "Among the Living", I got "1960" from the "Cruisin" compilation series. Jordan and Andy went way above and beyond, smoking three pork shoulders for over 8 hours. Aside from that, Marco and a cast of dozens held it down on the grill serving up some real good steak, pork sausage and grilled pinapple. At some point a Red Bull car pulled up and started unloading cases of the stuff. In addition to general rowdiness that often mimicked a mosh pit there were several water balloon fights. Pictured bellow is Jordan at the very moment one of his water balloons struck a 6 year old girl. Look at how happy he is.

Finally, after eating a pile of pulled pork and sobering up from the few beers I had that afternoon, it was time to hit up Cheese Steak Vegas. I prefer to eat at Pat's Steaks, however my car was parked in front of Gino's, as you can tell. It started raining once we were on our way to 95. The fireworks had also ended around this time, and every Joe Jersey who can to Philly for the evening was clogging up 95 north and south. Between traffic, rain, and me going to wrong way a couple of times, it took over an hour to get out of town. All the while I am trying to figure how many miles we had till I needed gas(my gas gauge does not work), and why the hell in all this rain was my car heating up so bad(could it be due to lack of gas). Eventually the rain cleared, the roads emptied and we made it home. As Mugs kept saying while we were still in the middle of nowhere New Jersey, "It was a successful weekend". Of course I kept saying, "It'll be a successful weekend when my car is parked and I'm asleep".

Many thanks to Mugs for taking a ride, and Patt for putting us up. And of course to the organizers of Punx Picnic. Shit was sick.

Garage Sale Day

2008-07-02T08:31:00.000-07:00

Sea Cliff's annual Garage Sale Day took place on June 8th. It was the first time in 3 years I was available to participate in this great tradition. For those of you who don't know my favorite Village in the whole world hosts an annual town wide Garage Sale Day the first Saturday in June. Last year I was in New Orleans, the year before that I was in Florence, Italy. GSD is typically good for some killer bargins, not to mention some priceless finds. Some of my personal treasures from GSD's pat include an early pressing of Black Flag's "Damaged", and a Black Sabbath 1983 World Tour shirt. I purchased the Black Sabbath shirt from St. Bonniface's Rectory Sale for 25 cents. Hell, I was baptized at that church, and I gotta a killer Black Sabbath shirt from it as well. The irony is tremendous.

This Garage Sale Day was different from years past. I wasn't going to run(drive) all over Sea Cliff's hilly terrain in order to attain a bargin. I suggest to my dear friend Lauren that we have a sale on her fathers front lawn. She loved the idea, so much that she invited a few other friends to participate as well.

Customers came in waves. Dozens of people picked up this Led Zeppelin mirror, but no one wanted to pull their wallet out of their pocket and pay up. I was asking for $25 in exchange for the privilege of owning this gem. Unlike most people in Sea Cliff who try to sell in bulk, everything for a dollar, I was trying to cater to the higher end shopper.

It got so damn hot that day. Wheelin and dealin with a bunch of bargin hunters made it fell even hotter. I even got a little sun burn. I did manage to sneak off to a few other sales. I got a Beach Boys tape, and some framed pictures of Dwight Gooden and Daryl Strawberry, circa 1986. Speaking of tapes, I had my car stereo(shitty boom box) playing all the hits. The Clash, Devo, David Bowie, all contributed to a real nice vibe.

I even got my Rat Fink Pizza Boxes in on the action. Lots of lookers, but no takers. Oh well there's always Mini Mart.

Punk Island, Not as Bad as Anticipated

2008-06-26T09:00:00.000-07:00

June 21st, the first official day of Summer 2008 was a treasure trove of killer shit to do. Beach? BBQ? Yankees Game? Outdoor Music Festival up and down Bedford Avenue? Nah. I opted to take my bike to Governors Island for what I hope is the First Annual Punk Island. For those of you out of the loop, Punk Island was a plan Mayor Guliani had to round up all the LES riff raff and banish them all to Governors Island. Bloomberg found this plain the draw of the Mayors desk after a little spring cleaning and put things into action. 9 stages 70+ bands.

The day began with a ride into Manhattan. As I was cutting through Lower Manhattan I passed by a Law Enforcement Car Show. It's always nice to be out, and find something you find interesting.

Normally I'd be freaked out by he shear number of cop cars, but in this case I was quite relaxed.

And wouldn't you know it, the Batmobile was there too.

To top it all off, at the end of the block there was a 1964 Dodge Dart 170. This particular car was a replica of those driven by members of the Seattle Police Department. "Although Chrysler Corporation did not offer a police package for the Dart or Valiant until 1976, Seattle P.D. was using Darts a decade earlier. In those days their marked fleet consisted of Fords, while the Darts were unmarked "pool" cars. By the early 1970's Seattle began marking their Darts, installing light bars, and using them for full time patrol", according to the information sheet tapped in passenger side window.

After indulging my inner car guy for a while, it was off to Governors Island ferry terminal. It was great seeing punks congregated in front of the terminal like it was CBGB's or gAyBC No Beer-O. I grabbed a map of the island and wrote down the locations of the bands I wanted to see. (Just so we're clear the names of the bands were not written on the map, and there was only one of list of bands with times and locations. You'd think that after coordinating this whole event someone would put the ol' photocopy machine to work, but I digress, it was the only disorganized thing I saw all day, so in all I guess it wasn't so bad)

I spent a good deal of time hanging out on the Brooklyn side of the Island. I caught Dealin With It, Olde York and Scum City. Gotta hand it to those Olde York guys, always a pleasure to see, always put on a good show, can't say enough good stuff about that band. Props to singer of Dealin With It. He told a good joke about Guliani's "Punk Island" that I paraphrased earlier in this entry. Take note of the container ship in the back ground, the thing was huge. It was pushed out of dock by a tug boat while Olde York was playing. First time I ever saw that at a punk show.

On the Manhattan side of the Island I caught Rabia, Death Mold, Hipster Holocaust, and Lost Locker Combo. To LLC's credit they looked fucking funny as hell on that island. I mean look at 'em, looks like they are at some prep school up north or something. In fact the whole day had a college campus feel. I was on my bike so I zipped around rather quickly all day until I picked up a piece of glass in my front tire. Everyone else sorta floated around with their respective groups of friends. People gathered in the shade as if they were all in some study group. I even saw a couple of dudes playing hacky sack. Imagine that, hacky sack in this day and age.

Total college campus.

So towards the end of the day I caught this band in front of a church. They had an early Epitaph NoFx, No Use For a Name sound. You may have hated it, but I dug them, lots of energy. I forget the name of this band. I talked to the singer for a few minutes after they played but at this point all the sun, weed and beer had gone to my head, and I really needed to lay down for a few minutes and catch the Nihilistics. I opted not to catch Fakin Youth. Besides I had some things to do later that evening and I wanted to nap off the sun, weed and beer I had consumed that afternoon. As far as I could tell things went smoothly and I couldn't imagine why they wouldn't throw another Punk Island next year. Here's Hoping.