My Mom Made Me Start Smoking Pot

We were having dinner with some friends the other night and the subject of smoking marijuana came up. Bubala, of course, said that he didn't. (He's a real straight edge homo!) Then, everyone looked at me and, of course, I remained ever silent on the whole issue. I have learned that sometimes, in certain company, (not the company that we were with though) saying that you are a pot smoker is like saying that you rape little children. Anyway, isn't it obvious by my blatant Cheech and Chong sense of decorum? Don't I, like, talk like Bill and Ted, dude? Don't I make it a hobby to take off my sneakers and bang myself on the head a'la Jeff Spicoli?

Hold on... Let me go do a few peppermint bong hits and I'll be back to tell you a story that dates back 27 years ago to this very week.

(Gurgle, gurgle, gurgle... excess smoke fills the room with a pungent aromatic fog... Ahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa... Cough, cough, cough!)

The Late 70's

I was still in elementary school and already my interests were very centered on music. From my basement bedroom, the sounds of Kiss, Aerosmith, Led Zeppelin and other rockers were constantly being blasted much to the rest of my families dismay. I had discovered this music on my own. No M-TV, no older siblings telling me what was cool. And, it was very cool at the time. Especially if you were only 10 years old.

Sometimes, my favorite bands would come around on tour and play at the nearby Capitol Center arena. It was only 20 minutes from our home and the tickets were all always under $10. So, when the bands came around, I would beg my folks to let me go see them and the answer was always "NO! You're not old enough to be in that kind of crowd by yourself and I'm certainly not going to take you." My response was always, "What is so bad about the crowd?" I just wanted see Steven Tyler. I couldn't care less about who else was there or what they were doing. But, every year when my favorite bands would stop by, the same thing would happen. I was starting to get pissed off! I missed a lot of great shows. Thanks Mom!

Making matters worse, my older sister started going and seeing her favorite bands in concert. (Fleetwood Mac and The Eagles.) She'd come back and tell me how awesome it was and she'd also tell my Mom about the people who were there and how they smoked pot right there in their seats. More ammunition for my mom to justify not allowing me to go to my concerts. (Thanks Sis!)

Finally, when I reached Junior High School, I decided that the first thing I needed to do was to find one of the older kids that smoked pot and tell them that I wanted to try it. I wanted none of this peer pressure BS. This was an aggressive act on my behalf so I would be able to see my concerts. I figured that if I just started smoking pot, I could tell my mom that I already smoked pot, so there was no reason to keep me from going to the upcoming Led Zeppelin concert. Right? After all, if Jimmy Page smoked pot, I should at least try it, right?

So, I started pretending at school that I was a cool stoner guy and that I got high on a regular basis. My rock star training had begun already and it just fit in well to act like I was stoned all the time even though I had never even tried marijuana at this point in my life. Eventually, my plan to get stoned worked. My friend Tammy, who had a crush on me, told me that her sister got high and that I should come home with her and catch a buzz. So, on March 1, 1980, one week before my 13th birthday, I went home with Tammy. Her sister, Laurie, turned us on to smoking some bowls and we also did some bongs. (I had always wondered how you actually did them.) We got, as they say in stoner talk, all fucked up.

I remember sitting on their front porch alone because they had both gone inside for some drinks. (Cotton mouth!) I drifted off into my mind, blanking out of consciousness. When I finally snapped out of it, I realized that I had been singing. Just making up the words as I went along and improvising a melody. I kind of liked that. Now I knew why all my favorite rock stars did it.

That spring, there was much trauma at home when my parents found out, much to their disappointment, that I was smoking pot. No, I didn't just go up to them and say, "Guess what I did today, Mom? Bongs!" The music from the basement just got louder and weirder. My plan had worked though, and on July 13, 1980, I was allowed to go see my first Capitol Center concert. Ted Nugent, The Scorpions and Def Leppard. It was loud and crazy and general admission. Terrible Ted blew out the power, so we smoked pot and watched him play Frisbee and grab himself while wearing only a loin cloth until the power was restored. Even though I now think that Ted Nugent is a terrible, homophobic, animal killing, womanizing, Republican asshole, I didn't know that at the age of 13. I loved every minute of his show, even though it was a little scary at the time.

My plan had worked! As time went by, Mary Jane and I would become very good friends. We did take a three year break in the early 90's only to discover that, in this increasingly crazy and fucked up world where people come and go so quickly, it's nice to know that there is always a big old bowl of herbage there for you to hit and another concert to mark the good times in life.

No Seeds - No Stems!

Thanks Mom. You're the best!

Recording Every One Of Me

Well, the recording process is coming along. Putting down the percussion tracks went reasonably painlessly and now I have moved along to the vocals. I tried thinking about the different heads I have to wear in order to play the different parts of the music. The bass player is always nervous with sweaty hands wanting to get the parts down and have them be perfect. The keyboardist is like, "Wow that sound is like so cool. Let me see if that works in this part." The drummer is confident and can sit there and work out his parts and play them while thinking about everything besides what he is doing. The vocalist... Well, let me tell you. She can be a real temperamental, perfectionist bitch. But, so far, she has not killed anyone... yet. All and all, every one of me in this musical project has one thing in common and that is they all think that everything I ever did always sucked. That is why every one of me keeps on trying to get it right.

Council Of Circles News

In Council Of Circles news: The first CD of the resurrected COC will be a limited edition of 5 copies and will surface some time around the 8th of March. It will feature 3 twenty minute drum jams containing various parts. I'm still thinking over the title, so more information will be passed on later. Here is a tentative track listing:

ONE - 20:25
1. Rim Shotting
2. Staccato Jam
3. Funky Groove Zone
4. Kit Kick
5. Encircled

TWO - 20:27
6. 1-2 Kick
7. Swing City
8. Unsnared
9. Majestically Round
10. Ethnic Pulses
11. Epoxeta

THREE - 20:26
12. Cymbal Serenade
13. Don't Stop Me Now, I'm On A Roll
14. Primitive Percussive Passions
15. Hands With Brains Parts I, II, & III
16. Don't Brush Me Off

I Hope I Die Before I Get Old

I will be spending the evening of my 40th Birthday down in D.C. at the Corporate Communications Concert Hall where a special Birthday show will be performed by the musical group known as The Who. Myself and at least two others that share the same date of birth will be sitting in various places around the arena. I figured I that would spend the occasion of the transition from my 30's into my 40's with these guys because they are in their 60's and are still rocking. There is a lot that I can learn from them about growing old with a vengeance. There is also a lot to learn from their dearly departed members about what not to do. They are on tour to support their first brand new studio album since 1982 entitled "The Endless Wire." It's actually a pretty good CD coming from a band that's been around since the dawn of time.

New Music To Spring Forward To

I don't know how it happened or if it was all planned out this way, but all three of my favorite long followed bands and a few other artists I follow are putting out brand new studio albums within the space of a month. So, I'm sure that the month of April will be filled with change and excitement. If you read into music like some read into astrology or religion, this may actually be a pretty good year for me. At least when I'm 50, I can look back and say, "Man, a bunch of great records came out that year. Everything sucks now."

Counting the days away...

April 9 - Marillion - Somewhere Else
April 24 - Porcupine Tree - Fear Of A Blank Planet
May 1 - Rush - Snakes & Arrows

Also in April or around then will be new albums from The Ark and Tori Amos. Later on in the summer, a new one from Bob Mould. To make it all even better, my musical tastes will become even more incestuous because Rush Guitarist, Alex Lifeson will be playing a guitar solo on a 17 minute song called "Anesthetize" that will appear on the new Porcupine Tree album.

Chasing Away The Winter Blues The BlowOff Way

This past week was cold, and I spent most of the time with Little Boy Max in my usual hibernation space under the dining room table with the portable heater blowing on us. Saturday finally arrived and Bubala had already stated earlier that he wanted to go to BlowOff this month. Now, the thought of sending my lover into the big city all by himself scares me a little bit, but the thought of all those BlowOff monkeys pawing all over him scared me even more. It was enough to bring me out of hibernation, for the evening at least, so I could be the one doing the pawing. So, we headed downtown.

First stop was Jimbo's for a pre-BlowOff meet up. It was a lot of fun. Just like last month. A home full of handsome men and their equally sexy party host is always a lot of fun. We saw some of the regular bloggers: Copperred, Clickboo, Cynically Optimistic who introduced himself and was very friendly. Durban Bud and his husband were there also with their buddy, Josh, who we had met on the river tubing excursion that some of us went on last August. (I remember Josh because he got my private vote for the sexiest shorts within our tubing group.) We also met a guy named Mike who Bubala and I both agreed was very handsome.

I also had a surreal moment at Jimbo's when some guy who I didn't know, who looked like a young Mickey Rooney with glasses, started spanking my ass only to find out that I wasn't the guy who he thought that he was spanking. He said that he was sorry. Man, just my luck. There were more than a few guys there who I wouldn't have minded at all if they had smacked me on my ass, and I end up getting mistakenly spanked by a total stranger.

The group of us left Jimbo's and made our way down the street to the 9:30 Club. It was empty at first, but quickly filled up. We ran into some more of our friends inside. Steve and Dale and Brian and Bob who were out with some of their friends. We were all trying to shake off the winter blues, I guess. Our buddy, Greg, showed up too which was nice since it was at Blowoff about a year ago that we first met him. Greg knows everybody. He has everyone's name and phone number in a fish bowl by his bedside. I also saw the cute "Piranha Sean" or "The Squirrel" as Jimbo refers to him, who I had missed earlier at the pre-party gathering. Missing in action though were Tos and Dumbek and Dinger. Where were you guys?

Unlike some of the other wallflowers we were there with, I was trying my best to rise up to the spirit of the evening and to move my body to the music instead of just standing there like a stiff white boy. I even got my shirt off for a bit thanks to Greg and Cynically Optimistic whose job it is to go around and make sure that everyone takes their shirts off. Much to my disappointment, he only got Durban Bud to cover up more with his sweatshirt though. (What's the name of that Kajagoogoo song?) The music wasn't that bad. Sometimes, it was interesting and rather trippy. Of course, I don't expect Bob or Rich to start playing music that you can twist to, so my dance movements will always be minimal.

All in all, it was a fun night, and you may see me there again some time. As usual, I left with Bubala because he's my man.

Winter In The Blackfield

Well, finally it's here. After almost a year of waiting, the new Blackfield album simply titled "II" has arrived into my eager little hands. I quickly popped it into my CD player. The majestic and melancholic sound hovers around my house as I write this. I already knew about half of the songs from bootlegs and downloads. So, it all seems so familiar for a new album. Anyway, it's released in the UK on Monday and here in the USA on March 6, but I got it directly from the man. We have already made our Blackfield tour plans. We will be here on these dates when our friend Steven Wilson brings his other band to the USA:

13 Mar 2007 - USA, Philadelphia, World Cafe Live
15 Mar 2007 - USA, ANNAPOLIS, Ramshead
16 Mar 2007 - USA, New York, Bowery Ballroom
17 Mar 2007 - USA, Hoboken, Maxwell's

My Trashy Trick

Little does Bubala know! John and I have our own plans for Valentine's Day. He's going to teach me all about sploshing...