Photographer Doc Keyaza …Doc’s Shots Series Archive #18 [Sample Gallery Mega Post]

Photographer Doc Keyaza …Doc’s Shots Series Archive #18 [Sample Gallery Mega Post]

 

Today Up On Christmachine Audio Reference Music Server :

 

 

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc Keyaza !

Time for another Doc Keyaza Photo Post! I want to welcome my new followers from Twitter and the interwebs. As I said before we have so much amazing history to show in photos. This post is only another sampling of the 1000′s of amazing and rare photos I have from the Doctor which he has bestowed upon us! If you see a photo you know already, the doctor had his hands involved in it or at least through his friendship with the great Ross Halfin and other of our generations greatest music photographers. It’s going to take me years to post the best and I’m honored to do it here. One day Doc will be known more for his art than his real job, lead rigger for “The Monster”. So here we will publicly post and archive his Art of Photography.

 

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You’re welcome to join me on Twitter if you want and I’ll follow you back as well.

https://twitter.com/Christ_Machine

Thanks For Reading and as always for you’re support…Now we can get down to business!

 

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You ain’t seen nuthin yet!

Thanks Doc your the bestest.

 

Thanks, as always, for your support.

Cheers and Bless Bless!

CM ☕

 

Please do not reproduce this article either all or in part without the expressed written permission of the author who can be reached via the “Contact” section in the header menu. You may link to the article if you wish, all that we ask is that you give credit to the respective author…”Christmachine” wherever you post a link. Thank you.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2015 Christmachine. All Rights Reserved.

©2014 – 2020 Christmachine ☕

[REWRITE] Schitzo – Manifestation Of A Nomad…Jack Kerouac, Lowell Sun And Bastard Saint (Excerpts Part 2)…[Second Pass Edit]…

Today Up On Christmachine Audio Reference Music Server :

Schitzo – Manifestation Of A Nomad…Jack Kerouac, Lowell’s Son And Bastard Saint (Excerpts Part 2)…[Second Pass Edit]… Just so people know Part 1 has not been published yet, so we’ll start here. These are excerpts from an early version of a non-fiction memoir.  Again this is a true story…the caveat being that what readers take from this may have dissenting opinions of it’s possibility to be true.  For example, some might not agree or believe in the possibility of descriptions of phenomena described herein, and see them as delusional experiences (this is key and left for the reader to decide).  Again that is the point, each reader will see these descriptions as they relate to their own personal beliefs.  It is written with the highest regard to accuracy, and is in relation to the entire story, only a small piece of what the complete story has to offer readers.  This is just a taste, and the final name of this memoir has not been completed as of the date of this being published.  Finally, the text is subject to change with subsequent rewrites.  Enjoy!

 

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Excerpt #1: Pre-Amble – 

r5768986bbSo I want to be an author, but all I could think of is what right did I have to try and be anywhere near the caliber of a wordsmith as many of the world greats that had come before me.  My writing is shit to be honest, but again it comes back to my belief that this is a long term learning process, always reaching for the sky to attain higher levels of this disciplined art.  What I do have going for me is the many experiences that have been laid out before me to explore, going deeper when there was no shovel to dig.  My fingernails are stained from the soil, my hands chaffed and cracked, dry to the bone from the rare earth and loam.

Each piece that I write is part of a specific set of exercises that I look to explore and hopefully master at some point in the future.  The most exciting part of this experiment, that will unfold right before your eyes, is that each piece is published in relation to how I feel they belong in the overall story since the start of this process.  Each piece calls to me when it is meant to be posted.  What that fully means I do not know, but something prompts my conscious mind, and lets me know that this (whatever that means at that specific moment) is what is to be published next.  Some might see it as just the human mind doing what it’s supposed to do, others may see it as a higher calling.  Maybe it is a little of both, regardless to me at least, it is an interesting look into the creative process.

 

Excerpt #2:

I had been brainstorming for weeks, months maybe, thinking so hard that my brain began to hurt.  I was in transition from being a dreamer to a thinker and it was very very hard.  I had always been a fierce dreamer, the problem being that it was taking all the brain power afforded to me.  After many years, a lifetime really, the dreaming had literally taken over all of my mind.  Even worse, is that through the years I did not even notice it.  Then at some point dreaming became so dominant that I sometimes could not tell the difference between fantasy and reality.  It was as if I lived in a cartoon or was in the throes of full fledged dissociative episode where I was often living vicariously through an outer body experience.  It was not as some have described as looking down on their body’s in a situation where they were close to death, it was for me as if my body was going through the actions pertinant to the life situation and my detached soul taking the ghostly human form, sitting right next to me as my unconscious mind had completely taken over.  My detached self was prompting my earthly self to react as if I was a character in a video game.

I was a sleeper and I loved to lucid dream where I would drift half my life away, just as I had in a previous life as an opium addict, frequenting opium dens where I would indulge and float around, never seeming to reach a complete state of sleep.  There I would explore the universe without having to get off the hard bamboo mat, where my body would lie with my mind shelved on a small pillow.  Now don’t get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with an overactive imagination, obviously it is in part, absolutely vital to reaching our full potential.  At the time, more of it the better I thought.  It would help me to experience more of life with an open mind…and for the most part it did.   Having an overactive imagination opened my mind to experience all that I could, and helped me to understand and accept many things that others seem to have a hard time reconciling about the human race and the breadth of differences in people.  There was plenty of logic in there as well, which I now know I had confused to be a full fledged thought process, but logic is only a small part of a robust thinking mind.

I had come to the realization that I now had to rewire my neuronal pathways in my brain to be more of a thinker, and put the data stores in my mind to good use as there was no use for them in an overwhelmed dreaming mind.  Too many thoughts and experiences coming into brain storage and not much of that coming back out with intelligent efficiency.  Think of it like having hard disks or sets of file cabinets in your mind, and they are all overflowing with billions of separate thoughts coming and going into and out of consciousness.  There is only so much space before they begin to overflow, losing and misfiling pieces of paper or data.  At some point when these pieces of information are called forth by the conscious mind, the problem faced is that the data or files are now incomplete, corrupt, and damaged.  You can imagine the problems this would begin to cause…wait, what were we talking about, I completely lost my train of thought.

Now all that might sound foreign to some as each person’s mind learns and is wired differently, but we’ve all heard the old addage as well as the song “Don’t fall in love with a dreamer”…as well as the part about the fool.  It also happens that many people have a more healthy balance and division in their use of brainpower.  For those who do not, like me, I’m apt to say that everything happens for a reason.  If I had not developed the way I had just described, I definitely would not be writing all the things I am now.  So what might be seen as weakness, I am now flipping on it’s head (No pun intended), and turning it into a form of strength.  In the extremes, It is how many people with seemingly devastating and debilitating disabilities, forge on with heroic stamina and poise.  With all that said, we cannot forget that societal stigma tends to deny that hidden wounds and internal mental scars can be just as devastating, if not worse.

In being a dominant dreamer, I can now see how so many are held back by it’s comforting yet deceptive charm.  Also as in many cases we are not taught the difference between dreaming and thinking, that there is a huge psychological and cognitive difference.  The phenomenon is often described that the affected person cannot see the forest for the trees.  As I realize all of this, it’s like a light switch has turned on in my brain.  Spending days, months, and recently years forcing myself to brainstorm, think, and write…I can actually now, as I put pen to page, feel the physical transition and transformation taking place in my head.  The dendrites and neurons in my brain are rewiring as I speak.  I now regularly go in and out of what are commonly referred to as peak experiences, and reaching the tipping point the words come to the page like an avalanche.  I can feel the blood pumping through my veins with excitement, my body a neuro-chemical suit.  As you can imagine it is not easy mentally making that transition, I can assure you that.  There is so much to tell…I cannot get the words out fast enough…It’s going to take me a lifetime (which I do not have) to complete, but I will do my best.

 

Excerpt #3:

The people began to feel lost in the coldest and darkest period in history.  Freewill was their ball and chain and again they were frightened.  The sage began to speak, “Flung into the darkness”, the man continued…”I was given the knowledge that is available to all men and women, all you have to do is stop and listen.  My Father’s Father was a great man.  My Father’s Father’s Brother was also a great man.  They recognized and chose to focus on the hope and the possibility for good in all humanity and became proprietors for the people.”  They knew that they could bring the people great joy and that it was good.  The world had just emerged from one of the greatest threats to all humanity, the greatest war against evil, men and women had ever known.  This was not about religion, or dogma, or God…far from it as a matter of fact.  What is known is that in exchange for winning the most tumultuous war of all time, in defeating evil this time, that it had not under any circumstances been destroyed.  There were many like my family, who had great faith in mankind as well as in the trees, sun, oceans, stones, and soil.  In order for the great war to have been one, it was well known that with all good there had to great evil…thus the world was slung into the universe, and bones ground to dust.

The evil that all humans knew continued to roam the land, taking the weak to their knees as they worshipped instant gratification into a blinding obsession.  The shortsighted were once again unaware and blinded by love, roaming the earth for souls to influence and nurture…but there was a catch.  The catch being that the earth was now slightly more than fifty percent evil, and slightly less than fifty percent good, so evil forces would always have a stronger attraction than good.  The difference seems slight but but paradoxically immense and infinite.  Legend has it that Mother Nature was to watch over this split and further the wisest mind of all time.  Whatever it was that was greater than the Mother was androgynous and absent of human form, and the life and energy and the future and the past and the intersection of all things, held the universe together in a balance (ebb and flow) beyond the conception of anyone on earth.  The equation of this meticulous and benevolent balance (never quite reaching perfect equilibrium), proved order through chaos, encouraging expansive outward movement in the formation of the evolutionary space-time continuum.   The constant tension of opposing forces is key to the development of both the universe and the species.

All that the people knew was that they were naked and flawed.  They felt the urge to compete, and there were no laws.  So the people had to create laws, and although unavoidably flawed, they had to be born out of protection for people who ought not be taken advantage of.  There were many who wanted to be “Gods”, even though there was no proof that there was such a thing.  Some of these self-proclaimed “Gods” were fare and charitable.  On the other hand there were many self-proclaimed “Gods” who were miserable and yearned for more and more power.  They did not care about the people, drunk on the blood and tears on those they held influence and sought to destroy.  This was the cost of freewill.  This was not beset upon the people, the people beset it upon themselves.

The earthly gravitational microcosm was the family, and the intention was good, although flawed. There was tension, but the intention was good, although flawed.  There was learning, and the intention was good, although again flawed.  Until one day when the son of the Father’s Father felt inferior for one reason or another, and that son took the burdens of all of his family that had come before him as personal.  This son saw an opportunity to exploit a weakness, a metaphorical cancer, which he also had the choice to extinguish.  Instead of stomping it out, he let it flourish because he felt slighted and inferior.  At the time he did not distinguish it for a cancer that would grow and swell uncontrollably to magnanimous proportions, fed by the bitterness of his brothers scorn.  There were many incidents along the way which inadvertently spurned and encouraged the disease.  At some point it grew out of the control of the weaker son’s hands, the point at which he had the opportunity to stop the spread had come and gone, and he was blinded by hate.  Some of it was rational but more of it was not. This brother sadly believed that if he waited for just the right time, when no one was looking he could destroy his brother, the people however would be the real victims.  Because he was blind, he could not see beyond his brother.  If he had to spend his entire life (till his dying day) trying to destroy his sibling, he would, even if it also meant the destruction of himself as well all he held dear.

 

Excerpt #4:

One night as the scorned brother was sleeping, in his dreams he came upon a powerful force in the form of a spirit.  It was very hard to see but he knew that it was there.  He felt power and awe and riches, beyond the dreams of any man who had come before him.  He felt compelled to kneel before the force to get a better look, as it was very very dark.  Without a moments notice, as he tried to focus on the spiritual force, he realised he could see the massive enticing power before him if he kept his eyes closed.  It was then then that the dark force seemed to reach out to the scorned brother, and the powerful said to him…

I’m pleased to make your acquaintance,

We have not met before, but you always knew I was there for you.

It was before my stay in the womb that you were conceived.

Taking the position of the blind, with one exception, the ability to feel.

Is it not so quiet with so many around.

People weakened from participating in humanity.

May I touch your face as I cannot see to well?  As my fingers cross the breeze and I feel your scars…

They are smooth and rough as the result of many fine years.

With your eyes closed, is it not true that I let you see?

Does the grass not grow, as we watch, right beneath our feet?

Does the sun not feed, insatiable…Does the water not quench, parched?

It offers me a gentle and pure time, with the dearly beloved.

Wait not, come into me and I into you, let me show you the world!

And you me, know that your secrets are safe with me.

Let me do the walking as you rest, forgotten son.

As we join together in spirit, you keep what you have, and I give you the rest.

The future is yours for all eternity.

It is all about you now and forever will be.  With all of us…

 

Excerpt #5:

I found myself plastered to my bed with fear and agitation.  My musculature was tightly shaking, anchored as if taught rubber bands were wound tight around my bones.  I was in the throes of an uncontrollable full body spasm with no end in sight, grinding my teeth so tight and unable to swallow.  Burying my face into my pillow, I tried to meditate to calm my nerves which were exploding with sharp pains as if I was lying on a plywood bed of nails.  Parts of my extremities were falling asleep and waking with no warning, just as one feels when they get pins and needles in a foot or arm from pinched nerves.  Sweat leaked from my pores, although there was no sign of fever, it was in a word brutal.  I did not know how long i could keep this up as my mind was anxiously suggesting that I was going completely insane.

I was lying in a bed next to the nurses station and there was only one incandescent light in that area with a single nurse doing paperwork.  The room was otherwise completely dark and as my eyes were adjusted to the darkness, I could see thirty other beds in the same room all full with patients, many writhing in different states of insanity.  Some were vomiting and others were screaming out loud in all kinds of noisy agony, the nurse just sat there as if this was normal. The large room was only separated by the warm humid outside air by large screens and there was no breeze.  I was hoping upon deception that a cool breeze would pass over my body, but it was not to be.  Out in the yard, in plain sight, there was an extremely large industrial size bug zapper where hundreds of mosquitoes and moths were electrocuted with every passing moment.  With the constant biological genocide before me,  I found myself wishing to be in their place…just kill me and put me out of my misery.  I thought to myself that if there was a hell, this would surely be it.

My mind began to wander aimlessly, I was not being kept there against my will…mulling over the idea that I could just walk out the main screen door not far from where I was interned at any time.  Then the reality of the situation would hit…where would I go?  It was quite feasable and a bit calming to think that I would probably feel better just getting this out of my system, running off into the black night screaming my head off until I fell to the ground in complete exhaustion.  The problem was that I did not have the energy to make this happen, exhausted from my hopeless quivering corpse. There was a clock on the far wall that would unervingly tick tick tick, every deafening second heard through the cries of despair and agony…every single moment felt like hours.

It was then that I realized, with nothing left in the tank, that before I had come to this godawful place that my father had given me a set of brand new rosary beads in a small leather pouch.  They were in a drawer right near were my head was situated, but I was convinced at what help would they give…none, I’m sure.  As I began to choke on the frothing saliva from my mouth and nose, I suddenly felt compelled to go for the beads.  I removed the beads from the pouch and grasped them tight enough to rip them apart. After wrapping them a few times around each hand, the crucifix fell into the palm of my hands surreptitiously, as if that was the place it was supposed to be.  Also inside the pouch was a small piece of folded glossy paper with prayers and a step by step method on how to use the beads. The instructions indicated what sections of the beads corresponded to each of the individual stations of the cross.  I was not the praying type and did not even know if I believed in any God.  Having no place to go and seeing no harm in attempting to just say the words and go through the motions, even if it only meant helping me to pass the time, anything to ride out this physically emotional and psychological trauma.

The one light in the background of the nurses station helped me to just make out the words on the paper now unfolded and laid out before me.  I first said an opening prayer as instructed, and then began to go through the stations of the cross one by one…it was unintelligible, choppy, and manic, but I soldiered on.  I would forget where I was and lose my spot as I mechanically moved the beads through my wiry shaking fingers.  I found myself tentatively re-reading passages and sentences over and over as I made my way through the process.  Sweat dripping from my hands and forehead, acidic fluid that upon contact with the print on the glossy instructions, rendered the words illegible. As I was doing all of this, I simultaneously was pleading with the universe to please let this pass, please-please-please let this pass.

At some point a few minutes later the shaking began to wane somewhat.  I was ecstatic that just faking it and going through the motions was working.  Suddenly stunned into a kind of stasis, In the air above the other patients right before my eyes, appeared what looked to be a hologram but it was more real than that.  There in an almost indescribable full range of color and motion, appeared a perfectly symmetrical apparition several feet wide.  At first there were several wrapped layers of green interwoven prickled thorn strands, wrapped around a beating heart that had flames shooting out the aortic canal at the crest.  About two feet on each side of the wreath of rotating thorns, the ether seemed to produce a moving universe where time and space were flowing towards but not fully reaching me.  My eyes no longer welded closed, then witnessed a woman appear above the heart in full color, while all the imagery that I just described was in constant motion all around her.  I had to be hallucinating this I thought, but I’ve never hallucinated without drugs before.  Anyway I continued to experience this phenomena as it was quite amazing and in turn began to calm my wretched frame. The woman looked only to what I could recognize as Mary the Mother of Jesus, seated and draped in a blue and white separated headdress and full body shawl, while the flames from the aortic valve flashed in her lap. She had a slight ethereal white halo rotating around her head.

All around her were what I recognized too be visions of men and women saints (if you believe in that sort of thing) and androgynous angels coming and going, propping her up in the air as I just lay there plussed. At some point her lips began to move but there was no auditory projection, nonetheless I somehow knew what she was indicating…that ‘I had to make a choice’.  As soon as I realized this, I could see what I can only describe as the ‘forces of light’ situated to her right side.  For some reason I equated this ‘welcoming force’ with the presence of ‘Jesus’ although there was no sight of what I could impossibly perceive to be ‘his’ likeness.  I actually felt a calm bliss with the ‘forces of light and ‘peace’.  Simultaneously on her left side was also only what I can describe as the ‘forces of darkness’. Similarly there was no ‘demon or satan’ but the  ‘impression was put upon me’ that they were there in the same way that ‘The Son Of God’ was there on the opposite side.  From the ‘dark forces’, I felt ‘power and strength greater than I had ever known’, and it sent shivers up my spine and riddled goosebumps all over my skin.  There were no more words, but the side with the ‘dark forces’ was the only side trying to ‘make its case to coax, convey, and convince me to come to their side’.  It was ‘implied’ that the ‘world would be mine…power and riches beyond my dreams, no more room for pain, and eternal glory’.  Focussing back on the side with the ‘good forces’, there was no hard sell and no promises, but ‘calm, peace, and eternal life’.

As I gripped the rosary tight, I thought to myself I have to make a leap, I had to make a choice (well really I did not have to, but I did anyway), even if it was going through the motions as I said before.  I checked to make sure I was not dreaming…but I was wide awake.  I always could tell when I was in a dreaming state and I was surely WIDE AWAKE!  So I made my decision and ‘click’ everything went black and all the pain and shaking stopped.  As I lay there for a moment, I felt a rush of adrenaline and power.  I wanted to yell out what had just happened or tell the nurse but I was rendered small, minute, and humbled.

Next thing I know I was suddenly stunned and shocked awake in a pool of sweaty white sheets.  The clock on the far wall revealed it was early afternoon the next day.  Exactly twelve hours later from 2 a.m. when the visions occured…I was covered in itchy hives and the clock read 2 p.m.

 

 

Thanks for reading and for all your kind words and support!

More Interesting Articles and Reviews to come.

Cheers and Bless!

 

CM ☕

 

Please do not reproduce this article either all or in part without the expressed written permission of the author who can be reached via the “Contact” section in the header menu. You may link to the article if you wish, all that we ask is that you give credit to the respective author…”Christmachine” wherever you post a link. Thank you.

 

 

 

Copyright © 2015 Christmachine. All Rights Reserved.

©2014 – 2020 Christmachine

San Francisco Sublime, Sushi On A Green Day, And Fast Cars With Tracy Chapman…

San Francisco Sublime, Sushi On A Green Day, And Fast Cars With Tracy Chapman…

Today Up On Christmachine Audio Reference Music Server :

I know, I know…I’m crap with deadlines.  You can be sure that something is always 46657bCRPcoming here, exactly when…well, that is a different story.  Be assured that I have a thousand more just like this. I hope you enjoy and many thanks for all your support and kind words. Respect! Respeto!

I have already told you that I lived in different places on different continents between tours, but I fell in love with California quite easily as you could imagine.  It was easy to go up and down the West Coast of the US very quickly when work became available. The two cities I established residencies in were San Diego and San Francisco.  San Diego for when I wanted to chill out in the amazing weather, and San Francisco when I wanted to be a night crawler.  It was the 1990’s and there was an explosion of creative expression on many fronts, but specifically in Art, Music, and Cinema.

After spending quite a bit of time in San Diego, I got restless and all it took to move to the Bay Area was a kind invite from a girl I met in San Diego to move into her home in San 65574fCRPFrancisco.  The relationship with her would always remain a platonic one, we just became good friends.  Not only that, one of the things I loved about California was how laid back and friendly the people were.  She invited me to live at her Mothers large rent controlled apartment after only knowing me for a few days.  Things always worked out like that in Cali, people were always so open to new, or even unconventional ways of living.  It was very communal in many ways, but as we know although I could easily make my way into new groups of people, it was no utopia as some would like to think or imagine from what they see in the movies. Whatever group one would become part of would also quickly inherit the flaws, idiosyncrasies,  and burdens of which that group had to bear.

So I was in San Diego and I thought to myself why not take up this invitation to live in Frisco for a good while. After returning from Europe to San Diego, I brought with me two 87866hCRPDanish girls, one who I was in a relationship with and her friend, who I also got on quite well with.  They wanted to go to San Francisco anyway before returning to Denmark. So we packed up my car and head up to the Bay Area, and booked into a Hotel in the Marina District for a few days.  It was a lot of fun walking around the city with two tall beautiful natural blondes on my arms, literally, they were intimating to people that we were in a three way relationship.  Brunettes don’t fret, we love you too, it’s the imagery of the situation that was quite amusing.  I just went along with their fantasy, although I was only in a relationship with one of them.  I vividly remember the two Danes dragging me into a large high end store because they wanted to pick out some cologne for me.  They fell in love with one scent and I bought it because I liked it as well.  After spritzing some on my neck and wrists, the Danes became overtly turned on and were literally attacking me with nudges from their lips on my neck.  I did not 25344hgstop them and of course continued to play out our sexual tension to their hearts content.  They were so erotically charged….there was no way I was not buying that cologne.

After a few days of wandering the city, I rang up my friend Anna, who had invited me to move in with her family, and she said I could come by whenever I wanted.  I had the address, but I would see the Danish off at the airport first before going there.  I have a thing similar to George Costanza on Seinfeld where I believe that sometimes it was crucial that two worlds did not collide and this was one of them.  I wanted a fresh start in Frisco, and it was essential that I send off the Danes in style.  So we went clubbing the night before they left and I basically dropped them  off for their flight back to Copenhagen on no sleep and I remember them being quite hung over as well.  We said our goodbyes and promised to keep in touch which still holds true to this day.

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Mission Dolores Park ~ It’s not usually this packed…You must go!

So the same day as the girls left for Europe, I went to the address Anna gave me to her home.  I was instantly blown away by the location on 20th Street off Guerero, just a half a block from the Scenic Mission Dolores Park and a few blocks from Mission Street.  After parking my car, I went to the front door and rang the bell.  I could hear Rap Music blasting from the house I was ringing.  The house looked beautiful from the outside, one of those row houses that you see in Frisco, thin and tall with ornate woodwork.  After a minute or so a black dude around my age opens the door and after looking me up and down and then up and down the street in suspicion he asks me, ‘What’s up?’ I told him I was a friend of Anna’s and she had invited me to stay.  He said, ‘ Oh yeah, she mentioned you might be coming by, C’mon in.’ He introduced himself as Jae (Pronounced, Jay), and said that Anna was at work, so I came in and we sat in his room listening to some great Rap Music I had never heard and smoked a blunt.  We got to talking and he told me worked at a the Radio Station KMEL which was big at the time for Hip Hop. He was a really cool guy…it was as if we had known each other for a long time.  At some point a month later Jae brought me to a party down in  LA and I got to meet Tupac Shakur and Suge Knight which was very cool because I was into Death Row Records at the time.

Anyway Jae had many friends of his coming in and out over the next few hours, smoking a blunt with every one…I abstained after the first one I did not want to be toast by the time Anna came home from work.  After a few hours she arrived and we were both excited to see each other.  She showed me to one of the many rooms in the apartment and said I could stay in there for as long as I want.  Anna showed me the rest of the flat there were five large rooms with very high ceilings and it was kept up well.  There was no bed in the room I was staying in but I was fine just using a camping pad and sleeping bag on a the hardwood floor. I was easy…I didn’t need much to settle in.  I was also curious to ask Anna how Jae had ended up living with them.  Anna told me that they had become friends and he 267549ggcame from a crazy home outside the city and he, over time, just became part of the family.

We hung out in Jae’s room for the afternoon to shoot the shit…we were having fun just chillin’. A few hours later Anna’s Mom came home we were introduced.  I was a bit thrown off that this was the first time Anna had mentioned to her mom that I would be staying with them.  She was real nice about it, when I got her alone in the kitchen a while later I told her I wanted to chip in for the rent…she said “Just give me 100 bucks a month.”, I gleefully agreed.  The mother had lived in this house since the 1970’s and thus had cheap rent because of rent control.  Anna’s mother was real cool she was a hippie from the 60’s and had lot’s of cool stories to tell about Frisco when it was a really happening place.  She recounted the earthquakes vividly and that their house had had been largely spared.  She pointed out the buckling of the pavement in the streets and the cracks in the foundations on the street…which I could have missed if I was not being observant.  She also told me what it was like to be a hippy in the 60’s in terms of art and music…I learned a lot from her.

I was told to turn my cars front wheels in toward the curb, standard  in Frisco, in case the car brakes let go…got it.  I was told I might run into Anna’s Uncle who lived in one of the rooms, and they left it at that he was a bit of an oddball.  Anna showed me around The Mission, so I could get my bearings in relation to downtown.  Jae had friends over a lot and we would have barbecues on the sidewalk just outside the house.  Everyone would be drinking and smoking blunts.  One of the first nice things I realized about Frisco was that rich people lived next to poor people and most people got along quite well.  That is at least in my neighborhood…I don’t know about the rest of the city.  Gentrification was spreading like it does in every city and had not hit my area yet.  I think today they call my neighborhood, “Dolores Heights”, I heard Mark Zuckerburg lives there nowadays.

 

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“Tracy Chapman 3” by © Hans Hillewaert. Licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons – https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tracy_Chapman_3.jpg#mediaviewer/File:Tracy_Chapman_3.jpg

Another thing that was fun about their house was they had a large front stoop with a lot of stairs and we would all sit out all day long with the neighbors and just enjoy the nice weather.  I know Frisco can be cold and rainy for long periods but it was winter where I came from and it was 70 degrees Fahrenheit almost every day.  They would tell me that I lucked out…that this was not normal.  Every morning I would walk down the street to my favorite rustic coffee shop called “The Club” and get some brew and then head back and enjoy it on the steps.  Also every morning a woman would walk past our house with her dog heading toward Dolores Park and I was intrigued because she looked very familiar to me, but I could not figure out why.  After a few weeks It popped into my head, she looks like Tracy Chapman…the dreadlocks and her face. One day I asked her and she said yes…it blew my mind because, years before she had made it big, I had seen her often outside the Underground (The T) in Cambridge (Near Boston, MA), playing her guitar and here she was walking by me with her dog every day on the opposite side of the continent.  Small world!

As Anna had a normal job, I would be left during the day to hang out with Jae and his friends.  Often I would walk up to Mission Dolores Park and sit there amongst huge palm trees and sun, and write voraciously in my journals.  Kids and dogs would be running around having fun, in my opinion the most beautiful spot in the city.  There was a guy who would walk around with a rolling ice box and sell those frozen 100% fruit pops and I always got the banana coconut every time.  If you sat on the benches at the top of the ascending green landscape of the park you could see the downtown part of the city uninhibited.  It was a miraculous site, I often could not believe how such an amazing view could be free.

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© Faruk Ateş https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

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©WendyHarman https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

When Anna would get home we would often wander down to Mission Street to shop or grab a massive burrito at one of the many Tacquerias in the area.  The food was cheap and portions massive, but it was a seedy area.  A lot of drugs being sold out in the open, lots of homeless people, and gang territories…I felt right at home. Walk a couple blocks back towards our house and it was very safe.  If you wanted chill, you got chill….If you wanted action, you could get that too.

So after a while I had begun running into Anna’s uncle, he was a pretty cool guy. He was a big reader and had a crazy good collection of old books.  He told me he worked at a pirate radio station in the city.  If I wanted he said I could come play the guitar on his show, as I had been playing coffee houses around North America.  He also talked about how he was a part of a city artist collective as well as the maker of baked goods laced with pot for the downtown Cannabis Buyers Club.  Now this was the 1990’s and pot was not legal anywhere in the US.  It was the first medical marijuana dispensary in the country, even though it was not legal to even have such a thing in Frisco or California at that time.  I went with him a few times night to the Art Collective on Mission Street and met a lot of really nice people.  They were all doing all kinds of artwork…I was once again amazed. Everyone brought tons of amazing food to eat and Uncle would always take the leftovers to our place. There was always 30 or more cooked salmon steaks in our fridge and I would just put them between two pieces of bread and munch away.  I was living large!

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Photograph by ©Robert A. Estremo Licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

After we would hang out at the Art Collective everyone would go to a local dive bar nearby, and it was there where I met Bradley James Nowell from Sublime.  He was only there one time that I can recall and he had Lou Dog with him, yup in the bar. In the US many states make their own rules depending, in California, in The Mission, In that bar, If you had to bring in your dog, they let you bring it in.  Next, remember Sublime was not huge at this point. Bradley and the band were still struggling musicians and hadn’t broken worldwide. I bought him a beer and we went out front to smoke a dube. I remember thinking to myself, Sublime, having seen them live already, where a very good band. With that said I knew many very good bands that never made it.  I had no Idea of what was to come.

Uncle also was a bit of a hippy as you could imagine.  He would make the Cannabis treats which he called “Mariposa Munchies”.  He would extract the THC from pounds of pot in our kitchen, the whole house reeked for days after as if we were a cannabis factory. After making hash butter and the aforementioned treats, Uncle would freeze them until they were needed at the dispensary. He told me i could help myself, but to be careful as a half of one treat would get someone rocked a full would turn you into jelly.  I ate a whole and he was right, total body high…unable to move and numb.  I asked him if he could get me a sample eighth of the Cannabis Clubs finest as I was just hyper curious to see the quality they were selling.  He said he was not supposed to but said he would this once…so I gave him 30 dollars and later that day had a nice bag of kush.  Quite cheap for the quality, I remember thinking how cool that the Frisco Authorities looked the other way and let the buyers club go about it’s business, downtown no less…I think he told me and I remember seeing it on Market Street.

Another day Uncle comes in the front door and leaves it open walks to the rear of the flat and opens the door wide out to the back yard.  I noticed there was a large box truck parked out front.  Next thing I know there are ten people walking through the house with over ripe fruits and vegetables in full boxes and placing them on a large pile in the back yard.  All I could think of was what the hell was going on.  I asked Uncle what all this was for and he told me it was for his compost garden.  Ok compost garden….yah….that’s one serious freakin’ compost garden.  Se la vie!  Now I got why others thought of Uncle as odd, but he also was a very resourceful guy.  One really awkward moment I had with him was one day I ran into him in the hall and asked him innocently what he had planned for the day…He replied happily, “I’m just going to chill out all day in bed.”  I returned with the comment “I wish I could do that as well.”  He looked as if to hit on me, and said, “Well you can.” It instantly dawned on me that he was talking about being ‘With Him’.  I politely said ‘no thanks I have a lot to do today’ as if I was oblivious to his offer. I walked away, no harm no foul and that was the end of that.  You see I already knew he was gay, but I’ve had many gay friends, and I surely was not gay.  After that we just went back to being friends. Too funny, for me anyway.

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc Keyaza!

One early evening I had made plans with Anna to check out this new sushi place, everyone was talking about how amazing it was.  It had only several tables so it was hard to get in and we would have to wait in line…which was fine with us.  It was right near where we lived, on a street north of Mission Dolores Park heading towards The Castro.  So we get there and there are about 20 people in line in front of us but it was a beautiful evening and the sun was setting colors everywhere.  A few minutes later I hear some commotion behind us and walking up to get in line right behind us were the three guys from Green Day.  Now you have to remember that they were newly famous and I thought they were going to skip the line.  They did not, we got to chat with them off and on for a half hour. It was pretty cool because everyone obviously knew who they were but no one bothered them. I found out that San Francisco in terms of Rock Star worship was much different in San Francisco than it was in L.A. Every other day we were running into famous people in Frisco and people for the most part went about there business.  It was quite refreshing.

Another time I got to be an extra in a film Sean Penn was Starring In.  They were filming near the small park at the bottom of the hill to North Beach and Chinatown, near the famous City Lights Bookstore.  It was just a car driving scene where Sean was in a vehicle with a large camera attached to the front windshield facing into the car. They did the scene a few times and within an hour it was all over.  I just happened to be walking by at the right time and next thing you know I’m an extra. It was pretty sweet, I don’t even know what film it was.  I should probably check to see if I made the cut.  He He! One of the things that I loved about San Francisco is that it is such a walkable city.  I walked everywhere from every angle and 223443dtgot to know the city like the back of my hand pretty quickly.  I loved walking over the Golden Gate bridge into Marin, breathtaking for sure.

One day I stumbled upon a Blue Angels show over the Golden Gate near the Presidio.  I loved how downtown they would shut down the streets in the center for the Bike Brigade to take over…Awesome.  I went to the Gay Pride Festival to check it…wow, I said wow…wild!  It was fun to catch new breaking bands at Slim’s.  Hanging out on Filmore and Haight at the foot of Golden Gate Park.  The Tibetan Freedom Festival in Polo Fields.  The Botanical Gardens.  My first time at The Registry of Motor Vehicles in California to get my Frisco drivers license.  The Palace Of Fine Arts Monument, where Hendrix, Janis Joplin, and Jefferson Airplane were all famously photographed in the 60’s.  The Albino Alligator at The San Francisco Zoo. Walking “The Sunset District” to hang out at Lands End at Pacific Beach.  So much history….so much culture!  I could go on and on but you get my drift. If you have never been to Frisco, you must go if you ever get the chance.

Now on to the difficulties and sad memories of my time living in San Francisco.  Even though there are things that turn out to problems, they are often quite worthy of recognition because as you know many difficult situations just give one more life experience and that which does not kill only make us stronger.  The first problem I encountered was getting half decent sleep when there are lots of drugs being consumed right in front of me.  Jae would have his friends over, up all night blowing lines of coke and I wasn’t into that scene anymore.  All I had to do any of those nights of snow, was to get up and walk in the next room over and partake and I would of had a great time.  I had done so much cocaine over the years, I was bored as shit from it. Not only that I was done with burning my nasal passages…I was just over it.  I still run into peeps doing coke off and on and I can have a good time without it and not wake up the next day with regret.  I’m lucky that way I guess as so many I’ve known just can’t stop.

Then there was the nights I had to deal with crazy violence.  I came to learn that Anna’s Mom had a a boyfriend that was addicted to crack and he kept falling on and off the wagon.  Her Mom would tell me he was a great guy, that was trying to clean himself up.  Often I would be awaken at three or four in the morning to them in physical violent fights, screaming and glassware being smashed against the wall.  I would gauge whether I should get up and beat the shit out of this guy but I was always stunned that no one else had any intention of stopping this chaos.  I would always be surprised the next day when I would see Anna’s Mom and she did not look to have any wounds and she would make  comments to justify his actions.  I think If I had seen bruises I would have killed the guy.  I realize now it’s the inner wounds that hurt the most.  Again I was always surprised no one stood up to that asshole…I knew when the violence happened that he had to be high on crack.  No telling what he would do…I really can’t say to this day if I made the right decision to stay out of it.  If it was my mother the guy would be toast.  The house would be full of supposed gangstas but they would never intervene.

Against all of this madness, I still found that I had a spiritual experience in Frisco.  One night while I was lying in my sleeping bag and the light was still on in the room.  I would find myself scanning the bookshelves in my room. I remember spotting a copy of the 786657ghseminal book by Aldous Huxley…The Doors Of Perception.  I took the book from the shelf and looked at the date of publication and found that it was a very rare first edition.  I knew of the book before that but had never read it. This was the book that Jim Morrison got the name for his band “The Doors” from.  I began to read and I could not stop, I read the whole thing within one day. I remember reading about how because of how plentiful food was to our generations that we tended to avoid spiritual experience.  I knew what Huxley was talking about when he described the spiritual journey one would undergo as a result of deprivation of modern comforts.  I had been there before in small doses, in large doses when alluding to mind expansion with psychedelics and how the experience could be similar with said deprivation.  I know it does not sound fascinating but I recommend the book even to those people who have not indulged in psychedelics as it explains ways to reach these heights without taking drugs and similar methodology used by many cultures around the world.

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Label from a Sublime Soda I bought. I tried to find a Sublime image to use but there was such tight copyright control it was no go.

One of the most bittersweet experiences I take from those days was the destruction of a band that had not even made it famous yet. Sublime was around for several years already throughout California.  Although they were from Long Beach, even before they hit the big time they were huge in California.  They were constantly gigging trying to get a record deal, and you have to remember that before they blew up in the rest of the country after the death of Bradley James Nowell, they were the quintessential Southern California Party Band.  It was twenty five years before the whole Bro movement that we have today, that many find annoying.  It was before people were sick of hearing Sublime all day every day on their local radio stations.  I got to see them three times before Bradley passed from drugs and alcohol, and before they released there major label debut and blew up across America.  I’m not here to defend Bradley’s ideologies, as everyone knew they were all about partying and good times as much as they were about anarchy and other unsavory ideals, it’s not my place.  As I said earlier, I got to meet Bradley and Lou Dog when they were in San Francisco for a show and although he was a prickly character he was no doubt a true artist.  Bradley and Sublime wrote many of there songs off ideas they got from music that had preceded them. If you had been there you would know that it was not about ripping others off, it was about paying homage to the music that drove them to be musicians.  It’s sad that we will never know what could have been, but with that being said there was a lot of great music left behind.  I remember the day, hearing that Bradley overdosed in a motel on Pacific Beach in San Francisco.  It also saddened me with the rumour that he had copped drugs in The Mission where I lived. Heroin, really shitty to have for a drug buddy.  Lou Dog Lived on for several more years. RIP.

As much as The Mission got it’s name from being an oasis of healing and love for centuries before, it was also a fine line or the same side of an eery coin where the angel of death would wait in alleyways and doorstops for people to succumb to their weaknesses and failure to thrive. It was a fascinating look into the microcosmic sub climates of the human mind. Yes, it really was like the movies, the only difference was that the good guy did not always make it out and many of the faithful would find themselves irretrievably in wait for their savior who may have already come.

 

Thanks for reading and for all your kind words and support!

More Interesting Articles and Reviews to come.

Cheers and Bless Bless!

 

CM ☕

 

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Sunset Hollywood, Seattle Sound And European Christmas Vacation Anthony Bourdain Style! Also My Latest Swedish Snus Haul…

Sunset Hollywood, Seattle Sound And European Christmas Vacation Anthony Bourdain Style! Also My Latest Swedish Snus Haul ~

Today Up On Christmachine Audio Reference Music Server :

 

UPDATE: @ BOTTOM OF THIS POST 12/23/14

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

So I just got off the phone with a relative visiting Los Angeles, and I ask, where have they gone…”We’ve been to Venice Beach, Santa Monica, yada yada, and Disneyland in Anaheim. We’ve been very busy, tomorrow we head to San Diego where we will be able to relax a bit more.” I replied, “Awesome…what about the Sunset Strip, how did you like that?” I remember when I went to California for my first time…I had a local take me to see the sites, and when I brought up that I wanted to go to the strip, she said…’there’s not really much there, but I get it, we can make a stop there so you can check it out.’ I get it many locals will say that it’s a dirty waste of time. Not me, I thought, I was on a pilgrimage and if I did not experience anything other than “The Strip” that would be fine. I also get that it’s very touristy…I did not care it was the 1980’s and I had to go. So anyway my relative on the phone today  says, they did not go to 346462hjSunset, and they would not have a chance. It was like a knife in my chest…WHATTTTT!!! At least do a drive through, WTF! So much amazing history but I guess it’s not to be. I know some of you are saying F Sunset, dirty waste of time…WRONG!

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

 

All I could think of to myself is that some day they will regret not going to the strip, just to see The Rainbow, The Whiskey, and The Troubabour. It reminded me of my first trip to Continental Europe with my Grand Parents when they took us on the “safety tour” in the 80’s when I was young, God love em, but I remembered that they tried to censor our trip. I grew up in Iceland so debauchery was not new to me, but the grandparents were a bit naive and did not get that we, the young ones already experienced the “adult stuff”. My uncle, aunt, and cousins lived near Nijmegen, Holland. It was pretty awesome experiencing it like a local…riding the bike paths in and out of the city and the 10 miles from Beuningen to Arnhem. We had Fritz Met, fries Old Skool 377 Holland - CopyEditand mayonnaise, had to explain what the American word “Cool” to a local (It did not mean cold), and were hit with major porn next to the Disney Movies at the “Video Ring” while renting VHS tapes. As you know women’s breasts on TV, on the front page of the newspaper, and at the beach is normal in Europe.

 

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

We ate horse meat burgers (salty strange), canned hot dogs, and dairy products like eggs / butter / and unpasteurized fresh milk not refrigerated. Actually reminded me of Iceland, not the same, but eating strange foods that is. Remember there was no Anthony Bourdain or Andrew Zimmern on TV then and wandering gastronomy was not popular with Americans…still is not, but people “get” foi gras now even if they don’t want to eat it themselves.  Now I know better to go for the Pig Cheek and Tuna Collar…first! Thank you Mr. Bourdain.

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

I also went to a Dutch school with my cousin and a friend of his, and all the students were asking me all kinds of questions about celebrities (blech!) and MTV (remember it was the 80’s). It wasn’t all bad, in fact I had a great time in English class. Everyone in Holland had English class in school, what was really cool was when I listened to the kids speaking English (Very fluent by the way), I realized they were learning British English. When they asked me to read a passage in their class book everyone seemed amazed and were stunned that I did not have an Icelandic accent. American English I found out that day was quite different from UK English.

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

Anyway I did not accept the idea of a censored Europe, no matter what they did (Much more on that later in this piece, see the plane ride home)…I spent my free days to do whatever I wanted, on my own wisely. I knew what I was looking for and I was going to take advantage of it, no matter what anyone said. We drove to Paris and I remember my Grandparents rushing us by the nude statues…very silly indeed, could not be avoided in The Louvre. Also all the sex shops near the Moulin Rouge was awkward for them…lol. We also went to East Germany, this was before the wall came down, and it was quite sad. Far from the free East Berlin Berghain / Panoramabar lawlessness I would visit several years ago, totally not like I remembered in a great way. We further went to Antwerp Belgium, Amsterdam NL (All Over NL), Berlin DE, Luxembourg, and Zurich Switzerland.  It was a very fun trip. 346346hg

I know now days seeing police dogs and Machine guns at airports is pretty common, but back then it was not.  You see we planned our trip months ahead and found ourselves in Holland with military fighter jets doing mission test runs above the house. We turned on the radio and in Dutch, they were saying America was on the brink of w*ar after blo*wing up one  of K*had*afi’s homes, kil*ling his s*on. It was pretty scary for a while we did not know what was going to happen day to day. Would we be taking our scheduled flight a few weeks later from Brussels to the US. We thought about leaving early, thankfully we did not as everything seemed to settle down when it was time to leave.

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

So as I said I was not going to allow a censored tour of europe, I was a young kid but had been around the block a few times. So I was worried about customs searching my bags especially with all I had acquired on my trip…unknowingly by my Grandparents and with the heightened security. My collectables in my luggage were; several Cuban Cigars, a bottle of cheap French Drinking Wine that all the locals in Paris drank at lunchtime with their bread and fromage, 1 bottle of Russian Potato Vodka, 1 bottle of REAL Czechoslovakian Absinthe, 1 Switchblade, 1 pen…woman with disappearing dress, 1 pack of Po*rn Star Playing Cards, and there was more but you get the idea. I was not even a teen yet and I was a walking ball of debauchery to go, just add water. It was that Heavy Metal music, it was a bad influence on me…I’ll blame it on that. K.

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

So we get to the airport in Brussels and began to put our luggage on the conveyor to the x-ray. As it went through I could have pissed myself. Breathe! As soon as my bag came through I picked it up and hustled it away about 30 feet to the bottom of the escalators. I grabbed another bag of my family’s as well. Then all of a sudden there was a commotion behind the scanner and two airport officials come out from behind and start pulling my Grandmother’s bag apart, obviously looking for something. They found nothing as my bag was safely away. Ah to be young again, man was I a handful. That was very close…very very close! Imagine them unpacking my suitcase full of treats right in front of my stunned Grandparents?!?! Anyway I passed through customs and on arrival in the US scuttled without even a search or declaration form in the US. As I walked by inspectors they paid me no attention as I tried to steady my bag, the bottles had come unwrapped and were now clinking. I almost shat myself…steady hand!

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

More to come about my trips to Continental Europe in the future, time to get back to music, Los Angeles, and Seattle. Forward a few years…Now it was the late 80’s, but I had travelled to LA in 83, 85, 88 and 89 and I did not establish my connections in the music industry until the middle of 1989. I thought to myself, I had missed out on Hendrix and the 60’s scene, as well as the Punk Movement in the 70’s (single digits, although I saw the 44633363mjRamones in 83 but that does not count, right, as I missed the movement). So I had to go to LA for the 80’s Glam Metal Scene…the Sunset strip was insane. The freaks were out and dressed to kill, it was more than you would imagine, the smell of Aqua Net and Phunky Kush was overwhelming. I got to see almost all of the LA Metal bands as there were shows every night of the week. It was a pretty carefree time as I was traveling back and forth between the UK, Boston, New York City, Los Angeles, and Seattle quite often. There were also many side trips to Vegas and Frisco as well. In the future I would find myself living between the UK, Reykjavik, Boston, San Diego, and San Francisco between tours in the 90’s. What made it even more amazing was that I was able to physically see the major turn in the music industry from LA Glam to The Seattle Sound.

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

When I look back on it, it was a seismic shift but as I just liked loud music I transitioned easily from Motley Crue and Ratt to Alice In Chains and Nirvana. I did not give a fuck about the politics and I got along with almost anybody, so at the time I did not notice the music was too different, of course it was different, but more importantly I could feel that I was part of something very unique and a part of history. What made everything more confusing was that Guns N’ Roses, Janes Addiction, and The Red Hot Chilli Pepper’s holding it up for LA blurring the Alternative lines. Megadeth, Metallica, Anthrax, and Slayer (The Big Four) where holding things up for thrash in the US and even bigger in Europe and South America. I would just the same listen to LA Guns, Mudhoney, or Megadeth (just as I do today)…where I really noticed the transition was when I went back home to work in the clubs in the 90’s.  All the work shifted from LA to Seattle for sure but back home Glam Metal was out and “Grunge” (hate that term) was in at some point. I didn’t get the memo that Metal was out and Seattle was in. I just went with the flow. The difference at home was the radio had stopped playing 80’s metal and full rotation was set on Seattle, it was really strange. Instead of taking my flights to LAX, I was now heading for SEATAC. That’s just the way it was. Not Enough time to write about the Raves and The Grateful Dead, Old Skool Rap Shows ( Notorious BIG, Snoop Dogg, Tupac, Warren G, NWA, Public Enemy, Wu Tang Clan, KRS 1, Dr. Dre, etc.) that’s for other articles…I was going nonstop for sure!

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Photo Courtesy Of Doc!

My experiences during these times are just beginning to be published, every day still I remember a new adventure and make note to be sure I remember to write about it here. “Bastard Saint” the Series has turned into something bigger. A book about all my experiences set to a bizarre ethereal netherworld. Based on a true story…there is so much to it, I will be posting excerpts from it in the New Year of 2015. Sorry, much later than I had expected because I want to give everybody a taste of how the book is coming along and the characters within, without giving away everything in a few posts. However I will probably self publish and give it away for free. So I look to give everyone here pieces to wet the tongue, while leaving people wanting to see development and progress with the full text.

So in closing here I wish everyone a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and Happy Holidays! Have a drink and a toke on me…I’ll be sticking with my coffee, Ettan, and Skruf Xtra Stark with a little Thunder Ultra Raspberry / Thunder Frosted, Oden’s Kanel, Gotlandskt Julesnus to keep it real for the season! Real Swedish Imported Snus Taxes Paid(Med Smak Av Jul !)….not that American SNUS Shit!

 

Most Recent Imported Swedish Snus Haul:

CRPRSZ

UPDATE: 12/23/14 ~ Excellent News…I guess it was meant to be. I just got off Facetime and the relatives did make it to the Sunset Strip today and they Loved It!!! They are now safely in San Diego [Dago] @ Mission Bay. Pacific Beach Manana!

So Cali Love!!!

 

Thanks for reading and for all your kind words and support!

More Interesting Articles and Reviews to come.

Cheers and Bless Bless!

 

CM ☕

 

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