SPEW :: phoenix dead show copy

created: Sometime between 1997 & 1998 for www.seanna.com for a pair of phoenix dead shows that occurred Spring 1990

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These are from a pair of Saturday/Sunday Dead Shows in the Spring of 90. The venue was Compton Terrace. I always said it was located North of Phoenix, but the tickets said Chandler. These were the Saturday afternoon shows. I arrived on Friday evening to me parents house and met up with Greg A. We were to be receiving a caravan late this night. I had given Jessie S what I considered to be explicitly written, door-to-door instructions on how to get from out the door & thru the yard of Linden House, 129.7 miles North to me parents house. And to be fair, they were accurate. Accurate to a fault. Concentrating on the details over here, I left out a key right turn over there. Sent 2 cars and what may have been 2 pipe-less Japanese bikes careening up into the bowl of Mummy Mountain. Jessie, Josh Z, Brian F, Matt J (plus 2 heads from USC) and Jonny H. Hours they spent up there, all 6 or so trying to make sense out of a phone-number-less direction that was missing a whole 9 syllables. Ever dealt with a Paradise Valley cop? After some clown home-owner de-evolved and started throwing river rocks at freshmen at 3 in the morning?

Meeting up with many Clan at the show, I was impressed at how territorial we all were. First, to have met up with 15+ strong within a crowd of 25 large…

Noel and SeJ came in later in the afternoon. And what I remember about them is that they kept bickering about a nonsensical issue. Noel, growing up in Connect-a-cut, had the experience that is was most certainly IL-legal to slow down on a two-lane freeway (in the fast lane mind you), turn into the median, drive across it, and wherever a window opened, pick the freeway back up in the other direction. Well, one of them forgot some essential staple of their daily routine and had to make a u-turn around Toltek. SeJ, needing to turn around, and ever so clear on the ins-and-outs of the Arizona legal System, campaigns that it is perfectly legal and somehow encouraged to make freeway u-turns. My mind cuts to Sej strongly urging Noel to believe him that she MUST be a fool for not believing him.

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Matt S, Margo M, Lauren ?, …..Then, to have grown a root literally in the same spot for 75% of the day. I rarely have met up with Clansmen at a show. usually just the Jettaload that brought us and maybe a pair or quintet of someone you saw in class just yesterday, but greet like long lost. Shakedown does that. Not to get sappy, but there is a tangible glee when you see someone you know amid all that dusty, smiley chaos. Sure the toxins and their various mixtures aid in this, but there are sober shows that eclipse the foggy ones.

We all managed to cling, and that’s what’s memorable about these photographs. These images, to date, are the clearest snapshots I’ve been able to capture into the emotion. Fairly odd how candids’ and semi-aware photographs capture images that are worthy of staring at.

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These pictures were taken undoubtedly after the First Set. And if I’m not mistaken, I believe that if you look closely into the eyes, you can distill wee blue unicorns prancing!

SPEW :: failed journal

created: december 1994 thru march 1996 

Monday December 19, 1994 8:37m 
The Debilitation of a Man from Mars 

The [controversial] Third Generation: After the elders of the Second had successfully lobbied to become sovereign from Earth, it was the Healthy of the Third [Darwin?] that had so far developed the furthest and most researchable “away” from their Earthling ancestors. Leaving their feet to grasp and fully rotate 180 degrees had developed into the widespread dependence on using the 1/2 G for the free-use of all four limbs. 

One of these Healthy Thirds [government/sovereign] has been [drawn/lured/spirited] to Earth where the 3G atmosphere left him crippled & powerless under the massive exaggeration of weight. Imagine the ratio: it would be as if you weighed 180 lbs. and you were stranded in a foreign world bearing over 1000 lbs. 

Wednesday April 19 1995 8 
On what could quite possible be the biggest news day of my entire 24 years… 
Japan happened first. There was supposed ly to be another gassing of the massive subway system this past Saturday, putting Tokyo and the rest of Japan on red alert. Today’s gassing was not as deadly injuring only 400. Japan also made it because it was also the day that the people that were being sought for the first gassing (almost a month to the day) had to be taken down forceful(?) 

Then in Oklahoma City, around 7:30am, a 1200 pound car bomb blew the whole front off a building that may have contained as many as 900 people. Although 12 hours passed and casualties were only 24 confirmed, with some reports reaching 81. In addition the bombs destructive capabilities the this building and those within it, it also effected a 10 block radios, with all the windows blown, with glass being an intentional feature.

The US had been bombed. And it had been bombed effectively. For anyone who really wanted to, the US is very easy to fuck with, especially Oklahoma City. Dead babies on the radio., bloody Suits on CNN, Clinton’s writers make a speech, America prays in confusion. 

Was it the fact that it has been funded from within? There have been some really spooky Middle-Easter-decent here that have been landed and prospered. Wealthy Arabs with a deep hatred of America as an object, fueled by the radical element over there. They could have been planning this for years: staking out every conceivable option and scenario before they finally brought their funds and ideas to the surface. Or…it could have been thrown together in the time since the World Trade Center bombing. Same device, probably the same amount (1200 pounds of anything liquid would need a van),
all in the name of belligerent Islam. 

The eighth Republican, ‘Lugar,’ from Indiana formally announced his bid for the presidency, but what was interesting was that he was saying that one of his goals was to abolish the Federal Income Tax…the IRS… 

Atlanta, which was dubbed a “Black Mecca” today, is at odds w/ itself over what to do about “Freaknik95.” Just as white students have for years flocked to here or there during their Spring breaks only to eventually shut the city down by over-populating it, only now are we hearing about what African-American students have been doing and where they have been going. Only it takes the city a massive amount of time to figure out what to do. The city officials are closing freeway exits in an attempt to shut them out..the surface streets will be manned by the police. Inevitably, it becomes a Black thing. CNN played that out. Atlanta, if you recall, is the cite of the 1996 Olympics, which should remind you of another entry… 

All this had a massive effect on the stock market closing the day up 28 points. By tomorrow I’ll know how the media stocks did. 

Sunday April 30, 1995 8:53p
To have an all too brief flash of forethought… 
In the coming years, there will be a tremendous amount of business going on between the visual images of CD ROM and the video production savvy. It seems to follow perfect logic that the 5 1/4 inch disc will be the standard for those using computers more and more domestically. These domestic computers running disturbingly fast will not only be offices and entertainment, but integral parts of everyday life..so they’re going to have to have a friendly face and a personality. Only video images and computer animation “produced” in concert together can truly achieve this. To be right there when those gates open up will be truly deep. 

When I got to Hollywood, the first thing that I noticed was that there was an entire industry at work here. The movies that were my soul could generate so much more. A whole foodchain at work, with so much room to move. Jeff Huber once said that he felt like a very small fish in a huge sea. That analogy has haunted me to this day.

With so many version of opportunities, I never have a clear definition of where I am going or what path I should be taking. But to see into one conceivable future and see that this microcosm of an enormous industry could be at the right place at the right time and hook up with this Fifth Generation Computer. Somehow, these visual images need to get produced, shot/rendered, converted to CD ROM, and distributed/sold/ programmed-in. –narration of Romeo & Julliette– 

Friday, May 5, 1995 3:35 
On this Cinquo de Mayeo day of cellibration, marks the two week point of my unemployment. How tidal the fortune of the neophyte. When things looked so good at EP, I never once stopped to realize that this was just a wave I was on, and that sooner or later, it would come to an end. Since no care was taken in this respect, I was not prepared for the down-time that I must go thru in order to catch another wve. Not just saving up the money so the sting of no paycheck isn’t too bad, but getting in the right frame of mind to get on top of things; get to where you need to be in order to get the best possible ride. If I can master that, I;ll be able to if not ride these analogies further and better,but to get morte out of anything that comes along. 

Alvin raises hope by… Anna calls… almost bragging about how much work is slate to come thru there. In true Alvin style, he says that we keep sending out the budgets with a rush at their request, and then have to sit and wait for these assholes to approve or request revision. At least three fairly large projects, plus the remains of the Sumitomo Bank stuff supposedly to start up next week. I’ll be working again. And if all of that wasn’t enough, Alvin tells me that he’s calling around to see how much an AVID class is running…because Eddie is actually going to get one. Was I quick to let Alvin know that I had cut much porn on an AVID all that week? 


Thrusday May 11, 1995 6:35p 
Effects racks will have to power mains in oeder to deliver the delayed/spfx signal
“High end…rolls off over distance…”
Delay towers 

When it says “effects send,” that’s referring to whatever signal any effects rack is sending to your board. 

On a much bigger board/production where there is a lot going on at once, the board will accomodate any effects racks their own fader for more control…($$) 

Any and all ‘monitor mix’ will most likely have its own stage console to A) actually hear the monitor mix their working, and B) communication with music. 

Will an opening bands fader controls stay there (active) thruout the headlining bands show? Is there enough time to switch every thing, or has it all been allotted to a very
wide board? 

What is “Interband Pause”? 

Submasters offer 8 – finger operation:
Say tracks 3 thru 7 all need to come down at once: all stringed instruments & vocals so that we hear just percussion 

The blues and the reds at the Comedy Store 

“No one respects the flame like the fool who’s been badly burnt.”
-Pete Townshend 

LA: Moral bankruptcy, suppressed rage, the suffering of others is none of my concern, and blind ignorance in light of personal objective… 

the streak hath ended 

Saturday May 13, 1995 12:45a 
com pul sion – a strong, usually irresistable impulse to perform an act, especially one that is irrational or contrary to one’s will 

sex u al – occurring between or involving the sexes; sexual relations 

in di vid u al ism – (philos) the doctrine or belief that all actions are determined by, or at least take place for, the benifit of the individual, not of society as a whole. that only individual things are real the principle or habit of individual thought or action 

greed – excessive or rapacious desire, especially for wealth or possessions; avarice 

ran dom – occurring or done without definite aim, reason or pattern; haphazzard; lacking uniformity or consistency. 

non se qui tur – an inference, conclusion or comment that does not follow from the premises. a comment that is unrealated to a preceding one 

you’ve really got to stop smoking pot as you do.
when you know that it will surely render you socially impotent, don’t smoke… try coffee or drink, but stay alert. 

The symptoms of flatulence, which can cause great psychosocial distress, has been unofficially and humorously described according to their salient characteristics: (1) the “slider” (crowded elevator types), which is released slowly and noiselessly, sometimes with a devistating effect; (2) the open sphincter, or “pooh” type, which is said to be of a higher temperature and more aromatic; and (3) the staccato or drum-beat type, pleasantly passed in private. 

Tuesday May 23, 1995 1:48am 
Mom has asked me when I plan on growing out of this grateful dead thing. When I go out camping, most of the attraction it to push the limits. To extend myself to such a degree that I can see things (mainly myself: my life) in completly new light(s). To go a distance w/out knowing where you’re going, what you’ll do when you get “there” or exactly how long you’ll stay…but going there w/ purpose and hope together w/ the expectation that anything goes…no expectations w/ high hopes…planning for the most & re-discovering minimalism. “Sometimes you get shown the light in the strangest of places if you look at it right” 

While many in positions such as yours can see all that goes into a Dead show in one convenient nutshell, I consider myself to be much more fortunate. To have seen all & done enough to have developed a clear, sober interpretation of these gatherings has been nothing but benificial. And to beable to see them again and again is trully a gift. On top of that, I have had the opportunity to finally go and join this intentional community for the past couple of days. I really think that, at first, it’s a natural reaction to be repulsed by such overwhelming peace & happiness; to automatically assume that it’s the drugs that are making all these people smile like this. But after seeing my 13th show, and experincing my 15th parking lot, after running into cats I ran with back in 12/89 (remember?), I know that the drugs & the dregs are only an inevitable side-effect that is continuing it’s journey towards the fringe. The true beauty, the real draw is the soul that thrives in that crowd waiting to hear these men do what they love. I was sucked right in by this feeling of jovial peace w/ strangers & the happiness this brought me won out square over the drugs. While the drugs could go on for undescribable lengths in making for a better show, it all came back to how the show was theraputic…in every sense of the word. In mind, body & soul, this collective mobile-musical economy of brotherhood is very life-preserving. Longevity thru clarity. And that just can’t happen w/ the drugs. While the music may convert atheists to agnostics, tripping produces too thick a cloud afterwards to regain that insight & is therefore unwelcome. While I have held this all to be true for quite some time now, it took the best show of my life to realize how little I remember of the shows where I had been a little bit too festive. So when Mom says that she wouldn’t want to see me at a Dead show due to my assumed condition, show her this printed out, I’ll but the tickets and be your guide, & I’ll show you both first hand one massive extended family gathering. 

Even though I am in the midst of looking elsewhere, I do talk to Alvin quite often. He has asked that if there is not much assistance in acquiring funding for “The Guardian,” that you please return the two books of information. He knew from the start that to sell you on such a pitch would be thin, but that’s the process: send it all out just in case. So if you could send that back so I can show him that I am still w/ EP GRFX, or just bring it out w/ you in June. 

Yes I am working. It may be an “erotic thriller,” but it’s working. 

I got much more but I need to catch up from the conditions of living over the past 4 days…

Friday May 26, 1995 11:59 
…and the forests will echo with laughter… 

Thursday June 7, 1995 4:35p 
It’s starting again…That feeling where everything is starting to come to a head, and somewhere, at any time, it could reach breaking point. I am reaching a point of critical mass, where the outcome will most cretainly be something changing drasticaslly. And since I have a fairly strong longing for goals I cannot yet describe, that shifting will cause a leap fowards instead of in reverse. 

After sending out close to 70 resumes, all of which contained a misspelled word in the first sentence, I am noticeing the interviews finer points as well as noticing the companies calling back. Pacific Ocean Post, the place that wants me to be a cheerful receptionist for god knows how long before I grow the balls to bust my ass and kiss others, has already called Phil and Brodie as references. The thought of them calling EP does not even warrant consideration. The fact that there is a very pretty one sitting over at Paul / Miller Films. She gave me blunt advice and a euphoric interview. I fit well into the idea of a familty-type unit auitioning for prospective entrants into their collective drive. I dont yet know what to make of the fact theat Rosina seems to be dodging. Could it be that when she offered 11:30 tomorrow for the follow-up interview, she just threw it out? Off the cuff? For a time that she may have had free, it was set in stone. I was going to call her at 11:30 and I was going to get this job, Dammit. I had no plan. I had to strategy. I was just going to go in there and be myself wanting to work for you guys. I think I can make a contribution. After that interview, I know I can make a contribution. 

Then theres the follow-up I had at Straightline. I think I would be a rental clerk there. The rent everything from Arri’s to Avids. I haven’t thought too much about working there. 

Saturday June 10, 1995 3:33p 
And suddenly…Lightworks (…and Schnieder) 

It seems as though there was yet another undiscovered country within the world of non-linear editing. First there was D-Vision, which was noticeably far away and complex when I first found it in December. Then there was AVID, which had had a reign over the likes of D-Vision ever since day one. And up until now, AVID was the center of the universe. It was so deep and so prolific that I considered it to be the industry standard. What I didn’t know that I was judging probably less than half of the industry. In one day, I become aware that Hollywood isn’t even the hub…that the one-hub theory doesn’t exist. There rest of the industry; the big-time, don’t use AVID’s…they’re called LightWorks. I had heard of it, but I grouped it amongst the dozen or so other brands that strived to be like AVID. When I interviewed at POP, I had no idea the scope of that operation. “Oh yeah, they got seven of our systems there at POP,” Schnieder says. 

Andrew Schnieder was that weird tech-guy that would, more often than not, rub you the wrong way at first. Wether it was the obscure questions he asked, the business’ that this college student had up and running (soda vending / 8 machines, and a car stereo installation operation / “UltraSounds”), or it was the way that he got an arrogant pleasure out of setting you up as you followed his success. He was the one that got me on that U of A admissions video because he was the technical director. Last I heard of him, he had gotten a job with this place called LightWorks, installing editing machine/computers… that’s all they were to me at the time, I had not yet swallowed the non-linear pill. Anyway, they were apparently sending him to London and New York setting up these things. I was, by definition, a great job. Perfect for one that was as technically inclined as he was. I tried calling him at first, but he never returned my calls, which didn’t bug me all that much. 

Within 20 minutes at the LightWorks booth, he sat me down, studied my resume, asked me questions, and listened to mine. He steered me in the direction of asking questions about LightWorks. I made sure he knew that I had no concrete ties with either the D-Vision or AVID platforms, which compared to LightWorks are very similar systems. Only after he knew that did he hint upon openings at LightWorks and a full demonstration to the machine, and how it differed than AVID…its only competition still. Then came the class that he could comp. Then came the introductions to his colleagues; not bosses. then came the invitation to see the rest of the show and notice who was in charge throughout the world in the universe of non-linear editing. that is where it became clear that LightWorks was the new standard. I could now see a ceiling. Before, I was just randomly climbing around, trying to stay up, never trying to realize or research just what was going on. The mistake was in thinking that these 77 post houses that I applied to were the apex; at the top 5%. While I knew that some, through advertising, used LightWorks, it took this showbiz expo to show me that LightWorks infiltrates the markets of the world without the fanfare of AVID. 

While all this may be massively inflated by the expo and my imagination, but the fact remains that Schnieder got a $650 editing class comped for me, and that will only increase my skills to get a job at either LightWorks (as per Schnieders hints) or at any other post house. And remember, there are enormous post facilities all over the nation and the UK. They don’t send their work to LA? Everything doesn’t get conceived, produced and posted in LA? The implications of that revalation could be baffling and detrimental to my future residence here. 

On a related topic, Tom Barger, my mentor; the guy who taught me all my AVID, helped me take some really big last strides on this road to gainful employment. He knew Robert over at StraightLine who happened to be the same Robert who had interviewed me at this place called Straightline. So one call to someone he called a friend could possibly do much more than I could have done on my own. Who knows. 

Also, he said that he could introduce me to someone named Danny at the House of Blues. He said, “They’re always looking for stagehands…they got a mill over there…they’re just cranking out kids.” So over dinner and drinks, I met/interview with the chief lighting and sound tech for the world famous Hollywood House of Blues. They have what he calls “a system not unlike firemen use.” I’d start out as a loader. For $10 an hour, with a 4 hour guarantee, I would be on call, as would 30 others, to load in/out truck loads of audio equipment. To be on call when Peter Frampton’s 2 semi-trucks got there at 7:00am. for example. I would do that for a long enough period of time until I made it to the top of some hierarchy, and would be rotated up or out. I figure the wait would be 6 – 12 months to rotate up to stagehand, which is the only next logical step if I wanted to continue at the House of Blues. He has my resume, and told me that I would be put on that on-call list, so once again…who knows? 

Back to the expo tomorrow morning to see what can be done… 

Sunday June 11, 1995 4:30p 
Are humans merely just the missing link between the apes and robots? 

Thursday June 15, 1995 8:50p 
Thoughts on: dinosaur vs. man vs. ?
Complex structures of organisms that appear throughout time. We, as man, will continually study the dinosaur because we do not yet understand this magnificent 150 million year period. We marvel unaware that we are one with the dinosaur. Try to conceive of a time, say 150 million years in the future, there will exist a species of organism that have only evolved as far as we have evolved away from the dinosaurs. How will their advancement in intelligence (for that is the over ruling enhancement.) and adaptability allow them to study their origins and their future by studying obscure clues like bones. Would they know what cause us to undergo radical mass extinction so far in the past by following our puzzle pieces? We have built monuments structures with materials that not only last much longer than the fossilized bone*, but they abound with glorious evidence of intelligent life. (*fossils are that very rare bone that somehow was save from pulverization from the elements. It was somehow secure enough where it had a chance to lie still and petrify via spreading deposits of minerals (calcium) from the earth: millions of years. Think of how a cow skull deteriorates within 2 years if left to the elements.) We are only beginning to understand how the dinosaurs had a extraordinary flourishing over millions of years, then by the end of millions more, only rudimentary organisms existed. We are related to one(?) of those species. Think of them as a bridge to the next flourishing of intelligent organisms. And since these lush exhibits of nothing more than bouncing particles lasts for millions of years, then we are so in our infancy, what with it being less than 25,000 years since we first learned to communicate. Without drawing queries into how we’re too young to be seeing that mass extinction of our own, I’d like to play with how we may go out. 

Up until now, I whole-heartedly bought the theory of the meteor. All it had to have been was a half-mile wide to have caused the sharp drop in the curve; it may have been really big. Once again, try to conceive of how this may have only have been the agitator that caused all of these creatures to make a futile journey that lasted far less than a million years. In probably less than our 25,000 to evolve to speak, it became Darwinism at it finest hour yet. 

The amphibians, the fish and the little furry krebblers were to see little or no curve in their bell. Right away, the plant life on the planet would have seen it the quickest. their extinction would eliminate the vegetarians at all points. The less herbivores there were for the carnivores to hunt. The healthy ones followed herds of herbivores who went everywhere in search of green. Their millenei of nomadic allowed for their bodies to be effected down to the genetic level in that they would have slimmed down to probably the size of really sleek elephants. Their journey would take them across the then amply connected Bering Strait, because in the drastically different climate, there would be up there found plenty of the flora and fauna we associate with the prehistoric world. Okay, here’s where it gets tricky. See, the tectonic plates moved so slow, that there must have existed immense variation on the themes of “dinosaur” because they had never came into widespread contact with each other. The afore mentioned critters with advancements in small-scale dexterity, yes, but the big guys had no need. The planet could have been massively overpopulated with them. What do you think the ratio between how much fossil record there it available and the amount of bones there would be if they ALL got preserved? 5% or less seems befitting. When that many disparate species gets thrown in the mix, chaos results. Try to conceive of how wide-spread plagues of disease wiped them out slowly. this cannot be prophesied and compare to AIDS; even they are occurring for the same reason, they are doing so from opposite angles. 

AIDS and that crazy bleeding disease in Africa are just premonitions of warnings from the planet. Most humans are so caught up in their own intelligent selves that they don’t think on a really longview and see the earth to be a living organisms that will fight to protect itself. I’m not talking about the planet being alive on the tectonic level, mind you. Rather, I see it as almost 5 billion years (yet, who really knows for sure?) of living organismsms: plants. All that time and the remains of this the most prolific species has produced a layer of carbon around the planet as if it were an existing, aware entity. I believe the Earth to have a skin composed of water and 5 billion years of plant ash-dust-mulch, with organism remains which rot with the other two producing more chemicals producing whole new reactions and products to the point where I can envision the Earth’s rocks, in all sizes, to be fiber, providing some sort of consistency or regularity to the planet. Not unlike the 6 feet of moss I’ve encountered on the rocks of Ontario, Canada. I’ve seen very old trees blown over…by this I mean that the tree, and the 6 feet of dense mulch it had been growing in for years was peeled off the rock, exposing both microcosms of life, and brilliant colors of recently oxidized mafic rock. 

So, we really start to fuck with our home by destroying things that were here for millions and are only within the past 150 years experiencing threat. The Earth can sense what has been done to the ozone layer by an altered exposure to the sun. The Earth can sense the deforestation for we are merely attacking her lungs. The earth can sense the overpopulation of intelligent species by the rape of here skin to feed all the vegetarians who feed all the carnivores; sound familiar? The Earth can sense that while she is not in danger, she must still begin the unconscious, reflex-action of defending herself. The saying goes, save the planet. The planet will be here so far after whatever we could possibly inflict that the saying should be: “Save the Humans.” So, the Earth, our eternal mother, hands down to us, the top of any food/power chain, immaculate ways of culling our ranks. Without discrimination or active decision, we have our population thinning out on many fronts. Not only is there new mutant strains of once curable diseases, but there are wars cropping up right in out own backyard…we’ve been killing each other almost as efficiently. She threw the plague, she threw polio, she threw TB, she’s thrown thousands of strains of the flu, and then before we can even catch our collective breath, she throws AIDS. 

Unlike the African bleeding disease (sorry), AIDS hits to our very anthropological core because it is so efficiently transmitted via procreation, our one and only purpose for being here…as far as I can tell. She is divinely correct in thinking that if you hit the humans and thin them out, then this will stop. It is here that i begin to wonder if there will come a time when Mother Earth will drive us so far down for how foolish we have been, that we will follow in the footsteps of our fossilized brothers and sisters, becoming nomadic out of instinct to stay alive. Could we once again ever follow herds so that we may feed our families and communities? On what basis will Darwinism thrive? Will we get to a point where the richest has nothing to do with the “fittest?” In essence and ending: Who will survive? Who will be our counterparts on the next bridge to the next flowering of intelligent organisms? 

…..and I’m worrying about my future in AVID. 

Wednesday June 28, 1995 11:25p 
Ever since puberty, and probably even long before that, I have longed to cut against the grain. there are those men who follow the rules set up by either god or men before him, and there are those men who make up their own. They don’t have a plan. rather they are driven by some eternally untangible force from within. Either derived from an event in their past or from a discomfort within the now, one may be experiencing some turmoil as he struggles to define what it is that he should do as opposed to that which he feels compelled to do. Some call it listening to their consciousness and taking heed. Others, called schizophrenics, are actually driven compulsions so strong that their actions are dictated by marionette-like voices from within. To whatever the degree, the one who listens to their souls desires are sitting on a fence. At some point, a comfortable medium is achieved…a plateau where he doesn’t have to keep climbing or descending or scaling, but can rest at height and find true happiness. I, for one, never have known when to stop grappling. (..I feel deep mountain analogies coming on…) I have always been so restless as to abandon a stable perch with a good view that I was convinced was comfortable. My question is this: How does “stability”, a condition I mocked yet have recently admitted dependence to, so suddenly become the linchpin to happiness? Let me go off… 

At the turn of the century, the choices for stability were so defined be those who came before you that by the time you were a man, that the abandonment of convention for the discovery of the self was insanity. I am referring to the exploration of Mother Earth around this time. There was the ways and the means for a man of good health to catch a ship and sail to the far reaches of the planet with only one goal: To absorb so much information that he could make an informed assumption of who he was, why he was there, and where he was going. There are people of this planet making that decision all the time based only on the information they’ve received from living in one or two towns or cities, absorbing at most two cultures, soiling their hands with the earth of a mere fraction of what is around them. At the turn of the century, all that man needed for sustenance could be provided through the labor of his back. There was no over-population. There were no economic tyrannies. there was only the educated white-man steaming up brown rivers where even the weight of the Cross had not yet been felt. What I find the most deserving of attention here is the fact that this now costs money. All of the above fore-mentioned is practiced by many who have grown disgusted with a capitalistic and thus materialistic world and go off in search of a higher meaning. They are right in choosing to walk the Earth in search of it. They are right in abandonment of love, possession, occupation and tradition. It’s just that now there is the element of a cash transaction in order to survive. No longer is barter or endenturement going to get you by. There are medicines to be obtained, papers to be presented, and ego’s to be dodged…all of which cost you money. Without going off on the subject of the next great uncharted frontier, where are the places a man can go to find himself? 

I, for one, like the idea of going against the grain at a slow and “stable” pace; exploring my own mind within the past 25 years, and now off to the immediate continent. In just the 2 states that I can say that I “know,” I have seen things that gourge me with insight. These are natural formations that remind me just how temporary we are, and that is truly beautiful. All this is not confusing. I know this to be a definite…a constant. I know the gurantee of the beauty of the lands yet to come is my stability. It’s just that now enters a second party that is an additional, while wholly different source of stability. I must now share where I once was one. 

Monday July 17, 1995 10:10p 
Quotes from throughout my years at the University of Arizona: 

Nothing makes a woman more beautiful than the belief that she is beautiful… 

Television is a passive, inspirational sedative that, when neccessary, can function as an active, objective source of learning. 

I’m going to move to LA…the world’s only functioning abusement park since Nazi Germany. 

Tuesday August 8, 1995 10:31p 
I am worrying that I am slowly loosing the inspiration to write. It seems as though the whole time that I was unemployed, I was ripe with ideas and the motivation to write. I was clearly going insane…but I had expressible ideas that somehow made it on to this drive. That was so long ago that I don’t have the floggiest notion of what it was that I was thinking then. I remember that i was broke and that I swore that i was going to be very smart with any money’s that were to come in the future. That, to my knowledge so far, has been the only thing that has remained from my head from those times. So, at this point, I can rule out the fact that I simple had more to talk about. I must have wanted to purge that evil bile that was my desperation by smoking and spilling my mind. But, by definition, there was nothing significant going on. I was idle. My lack of a steady, secure job translated into the fact that Sean was in a bad way, he doesn’t deserve this, please let me help, here try this, how much do you want? I know you’re trying and/or the inevitable: You’ll get yours before you know it. Before I knew it hit and has sunk in without you even knowing. 

Monday August 28, 1995 8:29p 
For someone my age to come out and speak about themselves along the lines of how and why they are the person that they are, they will usually (have to) give some sore of reason for it. Something, somewhere must have happened early in their lives, most likely at a very impressionable age, to have cause them to be defending their personality or opinion. I believe this to be a search for answers that they, themselves, have not asked…but explanations for those close/around them for insight as to why they are who they are. Yet, for those, like myself, who have absolutely no clear definition of who they are and what they stand for or where they are headed, these questions will, unfortunately, be coming from an aggressive standpoint. Independent of the fact that I truly pity one who is so set and focused as to be able to answer this question unwaveringly….who ever said that I had to have reasons to support the argument that is my life? Why should I have to substantiate who I am in this world. Just because the planet is becoming so overrun by the ego and their dollars does not mean that I have to declare my classification in that world. Allright… Okay… I whole-heartedly adhere to that world that is run by the dollar. I am so driven by the dollar that it’s value has become forever abstract to me. But here is where I must get back to my point: What conditions early in my life produced these set of circumstances in my mind today? 

For as far back as I can remember scholastically, I have lived with the fact that I have been afflicted with some sort of learning disability or another. I remember “hyperactivity” being attributed to how it just could not folly directions. it was also around this time that I was simultaneously drilled with the notion that I was extremely intelligent…as far as IQ tests were concerned. These years of untreatable hyperactivity was unsuccessfully diagnosed with me seeing as shrink from the years 10 -12. While i remember enjoying these sessions, I did not then understand how directed these question could be and how much creative license was “too much” in answering them. I come out with how I was afraid to succeed in school because I was worried that i would become the exact type of person that we tormented: the smart, misunderstood, a-student who would have excruciating wedgies administered right after lunch… daily. Today, it is impossible to know if there was any real substance to this excuse. There was never any doubt… the shrink and my parents ran with it to the point where it eventually became true: I became what I thought may have been the problem. I never sketched about the fact that i was seeing a shrink at that age… I had no frame of reference. Besides, he would always throw you off target and into his “realm” by offering popcicles and video games. “Oh…they’re to test the child’s coordination.” 

So this set me on a path for the next 7 – 8 years where I would get the most mediocre of grades, yet continue to score high on intelligence and comprehension tests.0 My parents couldn’t understand this anomaly. “He must be preventing himself from success if he really is this smart.” What they didn’t know is that excelling at my schoolwork was the furthest thing from my mind. I really did enjoy the subjects, but I never got the connection between the satisfaction of working for my interest and working for the satisfaction of earning good grades. They didn’t seem like they were for me…I wasn’t doing it for myself. When I did get the occasional good grade (A+ straight through geometry), I would be praised like a dog that finally may be getting the hang of this training thing. Even though my mom would put it in terms that I could appreciate, it would never bleed into the other subjects enough to see results. We both agreed that i was so good at geometry because I was working with something I could see and rotate around in space. While that may have been true, I now think it was because I enjoyed it as a whole. The professor, the subject matter, the peer “support,” and the pride that I excelled at something geniuses (or so I thought) just could not get. If I only knew then that I just needed to focus in on what was interesting, then I would succeed. No one tells you that it’s not until you get out of college that you get to persue what interests you. So much of it dependes on the professor that even the most arcane of subject matter can be made into a tapestry of knowledge waiting to be had. And that is where the University of Arizona comes into play. 

The UA was such an open candy-store now that I think of it. I am so disappointed that I could not have the frame of mind that I now possess back then so that I may have taken advantage of not only the classes that I paid no attention to, but the classes that I, then, had no interest in taking. I recall Anthropology classes given by the most repeated PhD’s in the world that I would ditch for I was still tripping from the night before, or would just skim thru with a D. The English and the other requirements fell into the same category as all the other students my age. But it is here that I first remember steering myself towards topics that fueled my mind: the History’s and the Media Arts. If these classes weren’t given by incredible, animated professors, they were of subject manner that I would just eat up for it was knowledge that I sought, and was getting for the first time. My main drawback was how much of this knowledge was coming in at such a pace. I had so many other bunk classes to deal with that the ones I really cared about faltered at the expense of the classes that others said were important. I had no way of dealing with this futile pursuit of an even ground. Its difficult to try and recolect what it was that I was goping thru, but I remember cracking up. So, getting back to the point of this entry…I was at this point diagnosed with ADD. This meant that I had a significant, yet not unusual difficulty in my attention span. It would have done better to have said that I couldn’t juggle courseloads made up of boring AND interesting classes…and excel at them all. The most I could hope for was to spread everything out so that I became a solid C+ student. That was an accomplishment that was 13 or 14 grade levels in the making. So, if we’re attempting to uncover why it is that I am so driven to “make it,’ or to distance myself as far away from failure as possible, it is the UA’s SALT program and my mothers faith in that as to why I had had so much scholastic turmoil over the years. These fuckers told me that I had a mental deficiency, and that I would, in some way or another, have to struggle to excel where others merely worked hard. I bought it for all about 2 semesters. Even though this program would allow me to take undepartmental exams and to take much extra time to do so, even though this program prescribed me Rytalyn which was like cocaine for mind not the body…I pride myself with the fact that I beat their system. I don’t deny that I have what they call ADD, but I now know that it was a product of the fact that I didn’t consider a grade to be worthy result for my efforts. And even though this motivation to separate myself from those who said that I “can’t as easily” allowed me to achieve a 3.5 GPA, I never saw the grade as that much of a reward. The reward was that I was doing the best that I could at what it was that I wanted to do. That fucking program has put me on such a regime of power-working that I think I may have forgotten what it is to not only follow what interests me, but how to search for it in the first place. 

When I told that psychiatrist that I didn’t want to get good grades, I think that I may have unconsciously knew all along that I could. Unconsciously, I considered the reward of a good grade at subjects I don’t recall being interested in as not even worth my time. Go back and I’m sure you’ll find that there were A+’s in there: Art, creative shit. Somewhere in there, then, is the formula for what it is and why it is that I like doing what I like to do. Where did that excuse come from?…The one about being associated as a Nerd? I made it up. I remember making it up. I have made up a number of things in my life…but that is a whole ‘nother neurosis. 

Friday September 1, 1995 10:59p  
When I was being schlepped around the Washington DC/Virginia area back in 87′, I remember riding in the back seat of a reddish-marroon Ford Tempo and getting this strong oder of Marijuana. Not the smell that you associate with larger musical events…coupled with that of mass body odor. I’m refferring to the smell of the plant when it is still ripe on the vine. Uncombusted Ganj. I somehow asked about this smell and found out it was that of skunk. Dead skunk that has had it’s shot at bloating in the sun until its anal glands burst, for the lack of a better word, and its ingenious concoctioon of fluids and secretions long since fermented begins to seep out and burst into the air with a stentch that you swear could be cut with a knive if only you could see it. That is my image, that is what reminds me of tha kind’ when I’m on a road trip. An opportune time to dust off the basic Scientific Theory and conduct a controlled experiment.
…oh yeah, my sister was looking for where she wanted to go to college. Or somethink like that. 

Tuesday September 5, 1995 6:55p 
“I don’t know where I’m going…I only know where I’m from.” 

 Saturday September 9, 1995 LFW 
We all want everybody to be treated equally. But what about a suspect being pursued by the police? Say he’s just committed a rape or an armed robbery, he’s running, so it’s obvious to the cops, and whatever happens after that can sometimes be subject to blackout. Either by the sensors in TV, or willingness of departments like the LAPD, these foggy areas where there are conflicting stories about the necessity of police “brutality” during the apprehension of the accused. The public will have much incentive to exaggerate what they say for it is one of theirs that is being “abducted” and only their god knows for sure. The police will say that the suspect had gone crazy and resisted and those marks are from that…sometimes exaggerrating the force necessary to apprehend the suspect. And into that, you can throw ignorant racial differences, a general hatred one side of these issues towards “a few” on the other, and you have an infection. This will continue to get infected until it is lanced by the desires of the concerned public. Blown wide open, the playing field leveled, and everybody seeing the problem as one to make everybody accountable for what they do during these encounters. I have the referee. 

Okay, our ultimate goal is, once again, for the police as well as the criminals that keep them in business to be held accountable for their actions. But this is only one side of the equation. The product of this accountability would be the entry of the public eye into this world. Some shows have already touched upon this. Cops, Real Stories, and On-Scene have brought the real world professions to light in an almost tangible and spicy form of entertainment (this material is inherently entertaining…it doesn’t have to have flashy titles and catchy themes, though). But, due to the elements of censors both from the police as well as the programmers, we the public only get to see about 15% of what these crews ever get on tape let alone all that ever goes on. I’m sure there were a number of arrests where the cops either forgot there were cameras there and just went off and edited it out later, or simply pulled the plug for they knew things were going to get hot. So, while these shows go to great lengths to show how “fun & fulfilling” it may be to be a cop, they are far to dry. Ignorant is the viewer who thinks that they are watching reality just because they are watching it “as it happens.” What we need is for an entity separated from “Hollywood” to take things a step further and produce the ways and means for the police departments as well as the suspects to show it like it is. This will, undoubtedly have to incorporate the use of Hollywood-type conventions to fit the format of the television, but it would have to be totally unconventional in order to break any new ground. 

Through the uses of micro-electronics as well as miniature video products, any police officer can easily be fitted with the latest in video technology with little or no interruption of their normal routine. Having all officers wearing a lens the size of a bottle cap under (or w/in) their badge that would transmit via radio to recorders in their squad cars, we could theoretically gather the all images of everything that police officers have to deal with. Any officers working at night or in dark environments would be rectified by the advances in low-light “lux” capabilities which allow these lenses to record images that rival what the human eye would have to strain to see. These images would first be used for the purposes of verifying what the paperwork says happened during an apprehension, but after that, there is a latent value in these images that goes far beyond their entertainment dollar. 

In light of the Mark Furman tapes, there is a tremendous public outcry for the actions of the LAPD, as well as other departments, to cleanse their ranks from within of this element of brutality and abuse of power. The LAPD is/was such a tight unit, that they were getting away with murder for there was no one on that particular “beat” that would ever squeal…be this out of agreement or fear, there was no accountability…just 10 cops’ stories to one convicts….10 whites against 1 black…it will always come down to racial line in issues such as these. If we can trust the elements within these departments when they say: “come on in and just see what we have to deal with! Then you all will understand,” we should trust them to be responsible enough to make tapes such as these taped apprehensions public. These camera would be everywhere. On the cars, on every officer, up in every helicopter, in every holding cell…everywhere. Although, just to play it safe, there would have to be outside crews come in to see that the equipment was functioning properly…not tampered with by the PD to shield there comfy traditions. These images could be packaged as simply the arrests. 

Thursday September 14, 1995 11:40p 
Ode to Sedge Parker. 

AKA: Sej.
AKA: Sam Parker. 

I have never admired a person so much in my life as I have Sej. And I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why. He was the quintessential candidate for, as Neil Young put it: “It’s better to burn out, than to rust…” (or was it to fade away? Either way, this kid lived his life in such his own terms that for someone like myself, who had had the lines to stay within drawn for him for so long, Sej exemplified the way I wanted to live and act and to behave…I had the mind and the stomach, but I lacked the balls. Why was this enigmatic figure such an influence on me? 

It was my first night back in Tucson after Christmas break. In the past few months, I had pushed any limits that my parents had though rigid, and was, for a while, on very thin ice. But here I was, back at school, now with my phat blazer, my girlfriends, Jessie, Noel & Kathryn had a fancy house and a dog on Linden…and we were the only ones to have such luxuries in our second semester. We all must have had this address before we left for our breaks because I don’t recall too much planning as to how we all were to meet up once we all got back into town. I distinctly remember showing up. Taking “my” parking spot right in front of the front gate of the front wall (which concealed most of what was to go on there in the next 9 months) and I felt good…Alive? I had my white Smiths jacket on, sweat pants, glasses…comfortable. Upon my entry, after the barrage of hugs, kisses and interest as to how good a month I had just had, I remember a character in the corner…sitting on the couch…kinda keeping to himself. “My God! This is a spitting image of my cousin Dave!” Only this guy had a thick, paunchy build accented by what was at the time an amazing tattoo on his bicep. Although the idea seems somewhat jaded now, the concept of a rose amongst barbed wire that circled the entire upper arm was radical. He was introduced as Sej, and I remember questioning it…”Sej? Ya mean like ‘Sledge?,’ as in ‘Sledge-Hammer” and from that point on, it was history as they say. He laughed at everything and said shit that made everybody laugh. And, despite his intensely young looking face, he had the air of someone who had seen and done much more than we ever would. Yet, his attitude and demeanor was that of one that looked up to most of us around him. Especially Fortin, his childhood crony. He was, in fact, a few years younger than us, which at that age was quite significant. He had, form that first night, a closeness with Fortin that I wasn’t to see repeated until I studied Johnny and Fortin later that infamous semester. 

I can’t think of a better way for a stranger to bond with a foreign tribe than for him to be shown that tribes outer dimensions. In one night, Sej was introduced to me, Jessie, Noel, Kathryn, Josh, Andrew, Kline, Jason M, Paul M, Erin W, John P, and god knows who else, all the while keeping up under the influence of the Blue Unicorn. It was this night that I attribute my attraction to Sej. Although I have had far more humorous experiences when I have visited these areas of my psyche, I can’t recall a personality that made a potentially dark or at least gray trip bright with spontaneous humor. And it was to be this very personality that drew me to him. I had a fairly powerful dose that night considering what I had been through that month. Josh and I had the next door to Andrew and Fortin (where Sej was crashing), so I drove a fraction of these cats home to Sun Terrace. “Who’s ride is this?,” He said admiring the blazer. This night was a kick-off. it was after this night that I accredit my college life to have begun. This was the first night of a semester that was to go down to my grandchildren. 

There is no way for me to place all my memories of Sej in order chronologically. Not only were there too many, but they involve so many other personalities of that semester under varying distances from sobriety that they all seem to bleed into one another. 

There was Southern Comfort. My good friend, Jarrod, and I had concocted a drink in Park City Utah that we uniquely dubbed Park City’s: Gatorade and SoCo. Now, Sej was a veteran before I ever knew how it applied to my kind. Although he was a hard-core fan of SoCo, he enjoyed, as simple as it was, this mix of drinks that it became a Thursday night tradition over at Linden. Remember, Linden was where we ALL spent 80-90% of our good times…reefer to my photo album for the ultimate picture of the living room. I considered myself to be very adept a drinking. Oddy and I would each down a 12-pack up at BeerGooRoo Cul-de-sac and then drive to a party…no problem. Yet, I had not yet busted out with hard alcohol. But SoCo tasted so good that it was like drinking candy…just watch out for when it bites back. Before long, Josh and Fortin fell out of this “Park City Club” and the Gatorade could only follow. Without any formal training, Sej taught me how to drink. Not only how to get past the punch, but how psychological drinking-sickness was. How to talk yourself straight enough to keep drinking. In the few times that this club met, Sej and I would polish of a 1/5 of SoCo, then raid Noels Budweiser. Reeling, arm in arm, I had a new, powerful, knowledgeable friend that was as new to the group as I was to myself. 

Was it the Rock by then or was it still MudBugs? Either way, we were spending a great deal of time across the street from sun Terrace at a complex whose name eludes me. It was the same room that Jessie, Noel and Kathryn occupied the semester before, but now Kline, Margo, Heather, and someone from Texas lived there… (Emily..1/96) which was great for we didn’t have to lose the routine of crawling out the window to access the world outside. Sej had, by this time, proven to all that he was on a completely different level. We had all observed him, on a number of occasions, fully compose himself with a full head of mescaline, Jack, herb and X…and this night was no different. Something big was going down at the Rock, and all we had to do was stumble there. Sej, always the purveyor of smiles and feeling good, had, in his system, an M/X missile, and, on his face, a full get-up of make-up. Picture this, if you can: Sej, at 5’7″(?), visibly built, wearing combat-boots, jeans, black leather biker jacket, black dyed hair that naturally stood up in a twisted Morrissey hang, lit joint in hand, with a full job of blush, mascara and lipstick compliments of Jessie and Noel…and he was on fire because of this. A complete contradiction of terms. We all lost it at first, but that was lost as we were drawn into an enhanced trip because he was doing this and it was working. It got to the point where it became unconscious…and we weren’t even at the bar yet…just on our way there. On the corner we had to turn on our walk (we were maybe 7 or 8), we came across a fight. That “pussy, too scared to engage, pushing back and forth with 2 friends on each side eyeballing the others” Kind of fight. As if timing were actually perfect, these two lock up right as we walk up, thus setting an X-ing Sej off the handle. With the roach securely fastened in the teeth, he grabbed just one of these kids, yanked him off of the other (without aiding the other, mind you…he simply broke it up violently), and screamed at the top of his lungs: “FUCKING KNOCK IT OFF!!! JUST SMOKE A FUCKING JOINT INSTEAD YOU FUCKING ASSHOLES!!!” And with this, he held out his had with the joint for either one of them to take. all right, the imagery gets better. These two have taken Sej’s actions as a blinding act of aggression and they and their friends have turned their panting stares at him. Still with out stretched offering of peace, but still with him X-ing hard and grinning at them like that…with make-up on…there was dead silence. We were no help; either hiding behind the nearest car, rolling on the ground laughing, or attempting to get his attention by breaking the silence with a “hey Sej…let’s go?” I can’t remember if they took the joint or not, but the fight was broken up, and these two clans had stories for their pledge classes. 

Without going into too much detail of how little I know of Sej and his past in the middle of this country, he was working with a clean slate with me in Tucson. What Fortin and Jake and all his KC buddies did for him unconsciously, I chose not to care what kind of a record Sej had accumulated in his then 20 years. Although I could not yet understand it, I somehow realized that souls such as he are pushed thru this Earth by an engine that can sometimes get away from the good logic of the driver…no matter how much he try to aim straight. But from what I could gather, Sej must not have come from the economic background that some of his close friends may have enjoyed for he was soon drawn to subtle yet specific things about our circle o friends. Jason M, Paul M and Erin W placed themselves in what was, at the time, Euclid Terrace. And from this apartment, these, for the lack of a better word, rich-kids would throw stunningly blurry festivities stocked with all the best party favors. These guys liked this life-style, wanted to enhance it rather than experiment with it, and had the funding to go nuts…all they lacked was the engine. Sej, drawn first to the festive, began his carreer as a promoter here. What began as a couch to rest his head mutated into a fourth roommate. “Oh…don’t worry about the rent, man.” I remember a party in Spring where in addition to the 5 foot-tall amplifiers blasting the Cult until the cops came, but when they did, the 1/2 full keg going out the window and onto Euclid…this same window that was perfect for pitching pool-balls at parked cars. It was parties like these that Sej made better like a spice. He brought much to the table. He provided so much, in fact, that when these kids’ money was fronted, Sej, much to his displeasure I would guess, gave them more then they had the balls to imagine. I feel lucky in a way to not have all the details, but that apartments’ inhabitants spread themselves thin enough to be very paranoid…and all this for a drug that, among other pleasures, made you paranoid. So, into this, throw Fippin. This character acted like a catalyst for Sej. I don’t have one solid recolection of this kid other than when he was stumble-drunk enough to pick a fight with a rave bouncer…from the outside of the rave that he got ejected from. So drunk that he had only one piss-soaked Cole-Haan loafer on his foot…the other, as Scott E would later find out, had fallen off somewhere. It is Fippin with whom I credit Sej’s last stand in Tucson. The ride was over when Fippen…I’m sure of this…planted the seed in Sej’s head that it was possible to betray your friends for their money…and somehow look yourself in the mirror…we’ll come back to that mirror later. Bad checks. Guns drawn. 1 parole-violator in custody. Fippen tackelled and subdued by one of Tucson’s finest lady-cops. The streak hath ended…for now. I did, however, get a chance to hear him speak his mind right before he left Tucson, and fighting back tears, Sej didn’t apologize…he couldn’t…not yet. He did something that left a chilling scar with me to this day: The kid, sitting on my couch at Sun Terrace, became, in my eyes, a man. Because he spilt for me his proverbial guts…who he wanted to be, who he was. It didn’t have to make sense…he had just committed a felony against the woman I think he may have even loved. He simply gave his best shot at a definition of who he was right then. It has been said that you are never strongest as you are when you are at your lowest. But I saw Sej prepare himself to take on the world…whatever it had in store for him. We both knew one definite future that was right around the corner for him. But he would explain that it was a finite future…that it was, by all means, going to be a healthy one. Sitting here now, I was wrong to think that there was something special about what it was that I may have been saying to him in light of what he had done…what he was doing. I think he realized, in me, that I was not only an ear in which to vent, but so that these thought may become real. He must have had a tremendous amout of crap in his head that night…all jockeying for position until he can spill them out…release his thoughts, his ideas so that others might know that what his actions said and what his mind & heart were saying sometimes were polar-opposites. Sej was giving me something there. Sej was purely Sej that dusk. Somehow, months later, he got a picture out to Noel of just the shirt on his back. The letters read “BUILT TO LAST.” 

I was to meet up with Sej on a number of occasions upon completing his tour of duty somewhere in the mid-west. If you could bottle the addrenelyn one experiences during homecomings of that magnitude, you’d be elsewhere. By this time, it was already Spring of the following year. Fortin, Jesse and Noel were living in a house on Waverly, not far from the OG house on Linden…and I was a pledge in a fraternity…that never-ending- expanding circle of friends that I am still building, right? Thrown into this mix were Jake and Johnny, Storm and Cassiddy. Just 4 more characters that brought spice and pure ingredients to the table. Johnny was living there kinda-sorta, Jake was at USC, Storm was in trouble or in the hospital, and Cassidy was with me so that she wouldn’t suffer the same fate as her brother Zodiak to the paws of Storm. Not much needed to be said about his return. Hatchets had miraculously been burried, and we all were very excited to see him. Yet, that isn’t to say that there weren’t going to be some leashes kept on him when eyes couldn’t This wasn’t for a lack of trust as much as it was an effort of love. This kid was NOT a bad seed, he just needed some time to get the rubber side down so that he could get up to speed. We all knew that Sej possessed something. We couldn’t explain it to any of each other for so few of us understood it then. I recall vivid seconds of pulling up in a white VW with John P behind me in his grey VW. I’m in the process of getting up and out of the car and hustle towards the door. I know he’s there…Noels blazer is back from the airport. It is night. I hear him from within as he exits the screen door and I see Sej for the first time in roughly a year. As I’m slapping his back…”Holy shit this kid is huge.” 

Sitting here months after I wrote these last passages and even closer to a painful anniversary, I feel an eerie guilt that I may not have touched upon some key point with the kid. First of all, there is the fact that I had lived in this city for close to a year and never looked him up. I knew full well how close he would be…how little effort it would take to have a crazy-sweet reunion with the punk. Couple that with the harboured guilt of the fact that I would first have to re-establish contact with the clan in Tucson to get his information. See, in my life, I have one major criticism: I always wait tooo long to say hello. Completely viod of negative vibes, it eats me alive how long it’s been since I made contact with those I love. The cliches could go on and on, but the fact still remains that I subconsciously isolate myself from the outside world and devote myself to chasing the almighty Dollar and it’s making me fucking sick. I do play…it’s not all work. But there is also something o be said about making that phon-call to your roots and saying: “Whaasup?” When I traveled to Tucson for the UA Homecoming ’95, The pleasure I got from seeing and hugging and catching up with old friends was so healthy! It all reminds me of when I say Jason M over Christmas ’95…he said to me that it was so hard for us to hook up whenever we could be in the same town together. He really meant it. I said that it was quite easy to hook up…what was really hard was for us to catch up. From across the bar at the TT Roadhouse in Phoenix, AZ, he shook my had again and wished me a Merry Christmas and good luck with everything I did. And it was at times like this that I realized that while true pals may grow appart, their soul-connection will never sever. No matter how much significance you put on the “water under the br

After 3 generations of Martian-born humans, most had forgotten about the stories of Earth their grandparents had told them about so long ago. The results of just one generation of living within a 1/2 G environment had begun to affect these first newborns down to the genetic level. Not withstanding the painful increase in their lifespan, the physical “mutations” were anything but. Since the gravity of their parents Earth was six times that of their Mars, this burst of human evolution manifested itself within the humans need for mass of muscles into relatively short limbs. Arms and legs had lengthen proportionately by 15 – 25 percent with the dramatic improvement in pedal dexterity. Yet, this first generations lived customarily as did their parents: slaved to surfaces with varying degrees of depth. With simple effort, the inexperienced or romured “adrenalennes” could push off and away from Mars’ surface.