Gilgal Revisited

Last winter, I found myself in mysterious Gilgal Garden in Salt Lake City. As usual, the park was empty so I took the liberty of shooting some video of the artsy-monoliths that make Gilgal their quiet home.

The soundtrack is provided by Mason and Trevor from the Vox Jaguars who recently formed a band with friends Lizzy and Duncan. Their new song, Little People, is featured in this video.

My Recent Trip Behind the Zion Curtain... In Pictures

Word

Superbowl daZe

So far so good anyway. I'm speaking, of course, about the super bowl and the fact that I still haven't found out who the competing teams are this year. I don't know because I'm not at all interested in the big distraction and do my best every year avoiding what has become the climatic opiate of the masses.

While talking to my dad on the phone earlier today, he couldn't understand why I didn't know who was playing and attempted to inform me, but I quickly stopped him before he could say anything more than the Saints. Fortunately I've stayed aloof from the sports scene long enough to not know where the Saints hail from. The only Saints I know about, are the Latter-day Saints I know from Utah, but I doubt that the Beehive State has a professional football team. They wouldn't call them something stupid like the Saints if they did.

Gentlemen Broncos Pleases Santa Cruz Midnight Movie Goers

Applause erupted in the old art-deco Del Mar Theater in downtown Santa Cruz late Friday night (actually early Saturday morning), as the final credits began to roll for Gentlemen Broncos, a movie that only a few lucky folks have had the opportunity to view.

More than half of the audience members in the Del Mar weren't even aware that there would be a final scene after the credits had run, but they stayed anyway, and again, expressed their approval with more applause as the house lights were turned on, and the movie was officially over. A midnight movie is tough for an old-phart like me to endure, but I decided to attend the following night too, because who knows when I'll get the opportunity to see Gentlemen Broncos again? The Saturday night crowd was equally as enthusiastic about the movie.

When I saw this movie for the first time last Thanksgiving, I assumed that it would become as commonplace as Napoleon Dynamite and Nacho Libre, but that didn't happen. Gentlemen Broncos should have been a mainstream hit, but bad reviews and poor earnings in the first days of its release, caused Searchlight Pictures to panic, and they hastily reacted by canceling national distribution of the film that I and so many had been looking forward to seeing again or for the first time. Those coming soon posters and trailers suddenly became sad and empty promises, and it seems that now only a handful of people will see Gentlemen Broncos in a theater.

The reaction of the Santa Cruz crowd last weekend gives me hope that Gentlemen Broncos will catch on as an underground midnight movie sensation. Everyone I spoke with after the show liked Gentlemen Broncos very much. Everyone seemed surprised at its obscurity, and lack of attention. Gentlemen Broncos has all the makings of a cult-classic - great acting, intentionally awkward, ridiculous, & quirky scenes, and some really intriguing cinematography too. There's even a theater cry room in one of the scenes. Popcorn balls appear throughout the film, therefore if Gentlemen Broncos does become a midnight movie sensation, popcorn balls should surely become part of the pageantry of the attendees. That would be fun to clean up.

Unfortunately, what should be, isn't always what is, and Gentlemen Broncos may disappear forever. Hopefully, there will be a DVD release of Gentlemen Broncos in the the near future, otherwise, this pseudo science fiction oddity may become another Whiffs* (1974), and dissipate like a cloud of Hollywood Smoke... forever.

So if Gentlemen Broncos comes to your local midnight movie house, be sure to don your grandmother's nightgown, grab a pink cape, fake moustache, and long blond haired wig, then mount your battle stag and head over to the cinematic yeast mine. Don't forget the popcorn balls... two in a bag. And beware Younglings donning mammary cannons intent on probing the mysteries of the Human mind. I hate those.

*Like Gentlemen Broncos, much of Whiffs was filmed in Tooele, UT and it also should have become a mainstream hit. Whiffs featured big names like Elliot Gould, (his role following M*A*S*H), Eddie Albert, Jenifer O'Neil, etc. Whiffs even received an Academy Award nomination for its title song, but only a few folks actually got to see Whiffs before it was swept under the rug. There was a limited VHS release of Whiffs, but the film has never been released on DVD, and probably never will be.

Whiffs Trailer from 1975 - sorry about the commercial!!!

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The Salt of the Earth

Some of you knew her as Fae Ann
Many of you called her Fae
Others knew her as Aunt Fae
Lots of people remember her as Mrs. Rosenberg
A few kids called her Grammy
Three of us were fortunate to call her Mom.

When I think of my mother, I think of love. In fact, she was the personification of love in my world. If you knew her well, you no doubt feel the same way.

Mom's life was all about love.

Mom loved fluffy white cats. Dad always pretended not to like them, but I think he was just a little jealous of the attention the cats got.

Dad didn't need to be jealous though, because Mom loved my dad and regularly mentioned how happy she was to be married to such a wonderful man.
She loved his dark wavy hair, and when dad turned gray, she loved that too. They had the happiest of marriages. I recall that they never argued in front of the kids and I never heard either of them raise their voices at one another. I'm sure they had their moments, but not in front of the kids. We were fortunate to grow up in a stable, and peaceful loving home.

Mom loved peace, and harmony in her home and in the world. Recently, when President Obama was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize, I mentioned that my mother would have been a more appropriate recipient. She hated seeing young men go off to war, because too many of her own friends never returned from battle.

My mother loved her children.
She always said that my older brother, Lynn, was the most beautiful baby anyone had ever seen. When Lynn got killed in a car accident in 1973 Mom was never quite the same. I'm sure that their reunion was a joyous occasion for both of them.

She loved her little curly-haired daughter, Karen, and made sure that her pretty little girl always looked just right. She frequently mentioned to me what a wonderful person Karen is, and how thankful she was for her.

I'm pretty sure that she loved me too.

Mom loved all of her five grandchildren, and enjoyed spending time with them more than anything else. She told me that Karen's oldest son, Lynn, named after my late brother, is the nicest young man she has ever known. Mom had a great sense of humor, and often mentioned how clever Jedd is. She was also impressed with Jedd's intelligence and ability to express himself. There was a special place in Mom's heart for Michelle. The two of them were fortunate to spend lots of time together, and developed a special bond between them.

My son, Mason, was special to Grammy too. She always said that he was the smartest little boy she had ever seen, and was thrilled that he was pursuing a career in music. I know she would have loved to see Mason's band play.

Grandma loved Kirsten too, and cherished every precious moment they were able to spend together. Last month, Mom taught Kirsten how to make Grandma's Famous Noodles, a favorite of kids and grand kids alike. On Christmas Eve, the day of Mom's death, we all shed a tear when Kirsten unwrapped a present that turned out to be a rolling mat for making Grandma's Famous Noodles.

I asked Mason what he remembers most about his grandmother, and he said,

"My favorite things I remember about Grammy are when she would sing and play piano for us and when she would make her homemade noodles."

She also loved her sons- in-law and daughter-in-law, and always made them feel loved, comfortable, and accepted - destroying the mother-in-law stereotype. She loved Karen's husband, and was crushed when he suddenly passed away at 44 years of age. When Karen remarried, Mom embraced Art with all of her love and acceptance. She loved my wife, Heidi as if she was her own daughter, and would confide in Heidi things she wouldn't even tell me.

There's a pretty little town in Southern Utah that played a special role in my Mother's early life. Mom loved PANGUITCH, and the people there so much. She always said the the finest people in the world come from Panguitch, and from my own experience, I wouldn't want to argue that point with her. Panguitch was her favorite place in the world, and always referred to it as home. The folks in Panguitch all remember Mom as Fae Ann, everyone's best friend.

Mom loved her schoolmates, and she looked forward to her regular class reunions in Panguitch. She said that her high school days were the most fun time in her life and I know that she cherished seeing her surviving schoolmates that she loved so much. They will miss her at their 2010 reunion. I'm so happy that Karen, Kirsten and I were able to take her to the reunion in 2009.

Mom was the youngest in her family, and grew up in a small house with two wild brothers, and four beautiful sisters who all adored their sweet baby sister. Mom loved her rowdy older brothers and had nothing but praise and adoration for them. She loved to hear Jim sing, and said that Grant was the funniest and most witty person she knew.

Mom loved her sisters too. Before Grace died, mom stopped by to see her whenever possible to visit her sister who spent the last part of her life crippled with arthritis. I remember the good times they had conversing for what seemed like hours to me, an energetic child.

Mom always said that Gwen was the most beautiful woman, and best mother there ever was. Gwen's husband, Lynn, was so beloved by my mother, that she named her first-born son in his honor.

Mom loved Jean. Mom has happily traveled great distances, to California, Arizona, Idaho, and Saint George to spend time with Jean. I remember how thrilled mom was when Jean moved to Tooele, and lived close bye for a short time.

Mom loved her sister Mae. They were fortunate to live in close proximity for many years. This closeness has afforded them many opportunities to get together. Mae and Mom were close to the same age, as were their children, therefore they had quite a bit in common, and our families shared many wonderful Thanksgiving dinners together.

Mom also loved the spouses and families of her brothers and sisters. She loved and accepted everyone, and genuinely enjoyed their acquaintance.

Mom loved her friends. She was always genuinely concerned about the well-being of her neighbors, and would do anything for them. She loved the good times they spent together, whether talking on the phone, playing pinochle, or attending Sons of Utah Pioneers' activities.

Mom loved music. There was always a song in her heart, or being quietly hummed or whistled as she went about her daily routine. Mom knew so many old-time songs, and now that she's gone, it's like a music library has burned down.

Everyone knows that mom loved to play the piano, but most folks are unaware that she was an excellent accordionist and even played clarinet and ukulele.

Mom loved to sing, and was honored to be one of the Joy Singers. Her angelic voice brought joy to every occasion. She loved singing with her grandchildren, and teaching her favorite songs to them.

She loved her job at West Elementary School where she worked as a teachers aid, librarian, and everyone's favorite class, music with Mrs. Rosenberg. The kids and faculty all loved her there.

In Conclusion:

My mother was the salt of the earth. Everything was a little bit better with her there. She made the bitter bearable, and the sweet even better.

I think it was David O McKay who said:

"Every person we come in contact with effects us to a greater or lesser degree."

Those of us who have been fortunate to know my mother have been effected in the greatest degree. We are all better people for having known her. Her loving spirit has touched us all, and we will never forget her gracious life.

Pseudo Psi-Fi Classique- Gentlemen Broncos

When the movie ended, a twelve or so year old girl sitting couple of rows behind me said to her family,

"That was officially the weirdest movie I have ever seen. Mom would have hated it."

My mom would have hated it too, but my own opinion of the strange movie was less immediate than the twelve year old's. I knew that I had been thoroughly entertained, but was still a bit unsure how much I really liked the awkward comedy about Benjamin Purvis, a home schooled teen with aspirations of someday becoming a published science fiction writer.

The story was simple enough. When Ben attends a writer's camp for home schoolers, he is thrilled to discover that one of the guest presenters there is Dr. Ronald Chevalier, his favorite science fiction author who announces that he'll be judging a science fiction writing competition resulting in the publication of the winning entry. Ben enters his own, hand-written sci-fi novel, titled Yeast Lords, and is later disappointed when he discovers that his work has been plagiarized by Chevalier.

An imposed friend of Ben's named Lonny Donahoe also has interest in Yeast Lords and creates a short film starring some of Ben's friends. Donahoe's modifications and interpretations of Yeast Lords cause Ben to regret his decision to allow the film to be made.

While browsing in a bookstore, Ben stumbles across Chevalier's newly published interpretation of Yeast Lords titled Brutus and Balzaak, and is furious. Ben takes matters into his own hands and after a whirlwind of events, procures poetic justice for himself, and a happy ending for the audience. Formulae, but still fun.I remained in my seat until all of the credits had run because I suspected there would be a final scene... I was glad that I waited because I was rewarded with a splendid scene that I won't reveal to any readers who may not want to know how it ends.

I didn't have many expectations for this movie even though I have been anticipating its release for a year or so. I first learned about Gentlemen Broncos while interviewing Alan Bradshaw for a post I wrote last year. Alan told me that a scene from the movie had been filmed in the lobby of the Ritz Theater and that other scenes had been shot at his dome shaped home near the Motor Vu Drive-In Theater in Erda. When I watched Gentlemen Broncos, I paid close attention to the lobby scene, and was a bit disappointed that the early 60's era velvet Mexican clown paintings hanging in the Ritz lobby weren't featured. However, I was happy to see that the door to the cry room was in full view. When I was very young, my mom had to take me into that cry room during my very first big-screen experience, when Mary Poppins became too much for me. I had hoped to see Gentlemen Broncos at the Ritz when I was in Tooele last week, but found that it wasn't playing there. In fact, it was only playing at one theater in the entire Salt Lake area.

The Broadway Theater in Salt Lake City was empty when we arrived for the 9:30 show on Thanksgiving. Mighty Mo, Mason the Punk Girl and myself took our seats while a handful of movie goers arrived as previews of coming attractions played on the big screen. I was surprised how few people attended.

Four days later, I find myself thinking about Gentlemen Broncos quite a bit. Much of the thirteen hours traveling home yesterday was spent discussing the so far relatively unknown pseudo science fiction comedy, and all four members of our family agree that Gentlemen Broncos is an excellent movie, and all of us look forward to watching it again soon.

.

One of a Kind Book of Mormon Stolen from Brigham Young

Recently, a pair of malicious drunken dumb-bells climbed the small gate at Brigham Young's family cemetery, (Mormon Pioneer Memorial Monument), in Salt Lake City Utah, and successfully removed the finely crafted bronze Book of Mormon from the hand of a Brigham Young statue that features the early Mormon leader reading to two of his children.

Two men were quickly apprehended and arrested for larceny and public intoxification. The bronze replica of an early Book of Mormon has been returned to the LDS Church, meanwhile, Brigham's outreached right hand remains empty.

I took this photo October of 2008, a year before the beautiful bronze book was broken from Brigham's hand by 26-year-old Parley Mortensen and 26-year-old Stewart Bodenstab.

four fanCy fotoZ from behind the Zion Curtain

I took these photos near the shore of the Great Salt Lake whilst in Utah for THanksgiving.


THere were THousands of dead birds THat had washed up on the shore when I was THere a few monTHs ago, but most of THem have been decomposed by THeir excessively salty environment. NeverTHeless, many of THem were seen scattered along the beach on THanksgiving.
THe end

Made in China - How the Cookie Crumbles

My first question may have been my most insightful. As the sun sank closer to the tops of the Oquirrh Mountains to our west, the large granite building appeared to exhibit a red hue in the direct sunlight. Where did they quarry the stone for the new Oquirrh Mountain Temple? I wondered. The first person we asked didn't know, but someone else informed us that it had come from China. With so much granite available right there in the Rocky Mountains, I was surprised that it had come from so far away. I tucked the information in the back of my mind and proceeded to enjoy an exquisite open house tour through Salt Lake Valley's newest LDS temple.

It is a rare event for the general public to have an opportunity to enter an LDS temple. Before long, the building will be dedicated to the Lord for secret-society like rituals that instruct the most faithful members of the church about how to become the Adams and Eves of future worlds.

The construction and craftsmanship of the Oquirrh Mountain Temple is astonishing. Every detail of this fine edifice is manufactured and fitted perfectly. The LDS Church spared no expense to create this beautiful palace constructed with the finest materials gathered from the four corners of the Earth.

By the time we had completed our tour, the sun had set behind the Oquirrhs and the Salt Lake Valley glistened with millions of sparkling lights as hoards of tour-goers walked from the magnificent temple to a large tent where free refreshments were being served. In LDS lingo, refreshments means artificially flavored and colored juice and cookies, foods I never eat. I remembered a popular Mormon belief that the human body is a temple, and thought it ironic how the Oquirrh Mountain Temple had been constructed of ONLY the finest materials, yet so many of the Mormons there were perfectly willing, (almost as if it was expected of them), to construct their personal temples with inferior materials such as punch and cookies, not to mention all of the soda-pop, junk food and pharmaceutical/prescription drugs most (American) Mormons consume at an alarming rate.

A mile or so to the north-east, the Jordan River Temple could easily be seen, and across the valley in Draper, I could see another temple glowing in the darkness. In addition to these three, the historic Salt Lake Temple is located only a few miles to the north, making a total of four LDS temples in the Salt Lake Valley. With so many temples in the valley, I wondered why there was a necessity to build the new one right there, so close to the Jordan River Temple. I tucked the thought to the back of my mind next to the reddish granite from China, and headed back to Tooele using Highway 111 on the western edge of the valley to avoid the construction we had encountered on the way there.

As I lay in bed later that night, it occurred to me that Mormons believe that Jesus can't return until the gospel has been preached to every nation kindred tongue and people, and so far, the Chinese government doesn't allow Mormon missionaries to proselytize there. The church, I surmised, in order to hasten the second coming, used Chinese granite to showcase their newest monument to the Lord as a goodwill gesture with hopes of wooing the policy-makers in Beijing. The new temple is an impressive building and I'm sure the Chinese must be proud of their granite.

Personally, I never intentionally purchase anything from China as a statement against that government's human-rights abuses and mass pollutions of the environment. I hope they do change their policies for a better world.

Rick Wakeman Eat Your Heart Out

I felt like a groupie when I showed up twenty minutes early for the free organ recital at the historic Tabernacle on Temple Square in Salt Lake City. I try to catch at least one of these recitals whenever I travel to the Beehive State, and I'm never disappointed by this amazing instrument, and those who play it.

When the doors finally opened, I scurried to the front row to get the best seat in the house to view and hear the king of musical instruments. Unfortunately, they no longer allow photos or video to be taken during the performance, and I wasn't allowed to get on the stand for close-up shots of the keyboard array, but I did manage to snap a few of pictures before the music began.

Richard L Elliot was the featured organist and demonstrated his mastery of this awesome instrument with amazing skill and finesse. Neither Keith Emerson or Rick Wakeman holds a camel to this skilled professional who played on a level I have never before experienced.

The highlight of the event was a rendition of Richard Wagner's, Flight of the Valkyrie, which he performed flawlessly without any sheet music to assist him. Bravo!

I spoke with Dr. Elliot after the recital and expressed my appreciation for an amazing performance.

Pretty Great State

Yesterday, I returned from a lengthy, three-week vacation behind the Zion Curtain.

My trip was a good reminder how awesome the State of Utah truly is. No other state boasts such a variety of beautiful scenery as the Beehive State, and I feel fortunate to have traveled there again.

The 1,200 foot tall Kennecott smoke stack reflects in a colourful pond near the harbour at the Great Salt Lake.


Swallows make their mud homes in the security of the towering Saltair Resort on the shore of the Great Salt Lake.
Obsolete phone booths at the entrance of Saltair Resort are a reminder that we are solidly rooted in the wireless age.

At sunset on the edge of the Saltair Drive right-of-way, about a half-mile east of Saltair Resort.
Sailboats return to the harbour as the sun sets over the Great Salt Lake.

The old grain silo on Highway 36 near the southeast corner of Tooele County still stands as a familiar landmark on the desolate and lonely landscape.

I was thrilled that I could legally travel at 80 mph on Interstate 15 south of Meadow, Utah.
At an elevation of 10,000 feet, Cedar Breaks in southern Utah is one of the most beautiful spectacles on Earth.
At the Panguitch Cemetery, Meadowlarks sing, "Panguitch is a pretty little town" near the grave of John D. Lee, an early Mormon pioneer who was executed for his role in the infamous Mountain Meadows Massacre.
Lichens grow on an old sandstone headstone in the Panguitch Cemetery. The name and epitaph long since eroded away.
The old gate at my dear old grandmother's home in Panguitch still stands. As a child, I had lots of fun swinging on this gate and walking on the old wooden fence, some of which still stands.
Near Bryce Canyon, the elevation is 7,777.
Sap oozes from a young Pinion pine cone at Red Canyon in Garfield County.
With hundreds of huge surrealistic towering Silly Sand-like sandstone monoliths, Red Canyon is always a joy to visit.
A 1" long Dragonfly rests peacefully on a flower moments before being attacked and eaten whole in a matter of seconds by a vicious Yellow Jacket.
Evaporation ponds on the southern shore of the Great Salt Lake bid me adieu as I departed the most beautiful state in the US. I hope to return soon.

Remembering the Great Comet of 1997

I wasn't expecting to see the great comet when I took out the garbage early in the morning on March 2, 1997. I wasn't expecting it because the previous day I had been using the then infantile internet to find out when the comet would be visible. The information I had seen the day before indicated that I wouldn't see Hale-Bopp until summer, yet as I looked at the fuzzy star in the distance, I could see that something was different from any other night sky feature I had ever seen. I knew what I was seeing and retrieved a small notebook and pen from my front shirt pocket to record the event. It was too dark to see the page, or what I was writing, but I scratched out the following words:

"Looking @ Hale-Bopp for first time 5:10 AM March 2 - 97"

As long as I can remember, I have wanted to see a real comet. Astronomy has always been interesting to me, and I'm certainly no stranger to the night sky. I've spent countless hours sleeping under the starry canopy of the Milky Way Galaxy, and gazing up in awe at the wondrous eternities stretched out before me. Comets have always intrigued me, but the comets in astronomy books were either drawings of old wood carvings or fuzzy images.

I remember what a disappointment Haley's Comet was back in 1986. It could only be viewed through a telescope, and that wasn't something I had access to at the time.

Then on April 3 of 1996, the comet Hyakutake became visible to the naked eye when a total lunar eclipse briefly darkened the night sky. Still, the comet was quite disappointing, but was still a unique and memorable experience that I shared with my family including my sister and her kids.

Then came Hale-Bopp. From that moment in the early morning hours, I watched the great comet get closer every night until it was the largest object in the night sky. The two sparkling tails streaming from the comet appeared to paint the indigo sky with an almost magical luminescent glow. I was living in Southern Utah at the time, and the arid desert air aided in making the heavenly spectacle clear and highly visible as I watched the comet's nightyly progress across the sky. It began to feel as though the two-tailed comet had become a permanent fixture of the night sky, and perhaps even somewhat commonplace. After months of observing Hale-Bopp, it almost seemed like it would last forever. But, eventually, the cosmic visitor disappeared from sight.

The great comet of 1997 may be gone, but I will never forget the magnificant splendor and beauty of Hale-Bopp.

Got Gumption?

Gumption. That's one thing I don't have an abundance of at the moment... at least when it comes to writing for my blog. Sure, I've already begun writing many of the upcoming posts including, but certainly not limited to:

When in Morm - Do's and don'ts and insightful tips for visitors to Utah

Mighty Mo names the spiders that live in our house

My simple answer to the gang problem, (and it isn't dynamite)

Phrases and terms I have coined

A walk down rememory lane to the old Blue Mouse Theater in Salt Lake City

A recollection of the Bucket of Bernie Brains show at the Catalyst in Santa Cruz

A book review of Paula Phelan's 1919

Examples of literary structures in ancient texts

Hale Bopp

Plus many more Xtra Files

But I'm going to take a nap right now instead of writing. I'll listen to some Lawrence Welk for inspiration later on. Meanwhile, take a gander at this pretty bottle brush that Mighty Mo photographed last week.

Bye Bye Blacksheep

On this day in 1968, early in the morning, ranchers discovered that thousands of their sheep had mysteriously died overnight. Toxicologists from the National Animal Disease Center at Ames, Iowa, determined that the sheep had died from exposure to the highly volatile VX agent, a terribly toxic chemical weapon, which just so happened to be in large supply at a couple of neighboring military bases at the time.
Read Allah Bout It.

Fashion Week - Welcome to 1984

Actually, it may have been 1985 when Mighty Mo's siblings, John and Megan posed for these photos. Now they're all grown up and have kids with punky hairdos of their own.













I was happy to come across these photos because Megan recently sold her long blonde hair to a Norwegian man who has mysterious undisclosed plans for it.

Today, in 2009 it's difficult to understand just how shocking some of the hair styles and fashions were twenty-five years ago. Where I live, it's common to see mohawks, pink hair, and every other nuance that goes along with the punk image. But back then, in Utah, people didn't know what to think when they encountered such persons. The good old daze!

My Mighty Mo sporting a snazzy mohawk somewhere in NYC 1985

The way I saw it then was that punk rock was a result of the stagnant and slick mainstream music industry that was pumping out really predictable and uninteresting music, (which is ironically what eventually happened to punk rock). To me, punk was also about being intellectually aware of what was going on in the world and within in our government. That didn't last long either, and punk soon became the noisy medium for uninspired messages.

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Post-Punk X - Pickin' on the Knitters

The Knitters at Moe's Alley Last Night

Something that is difficult for me to get my brain around is the fact that I started listening to X before Ronald Reagan was President of the United States. Five presidents later, I still listen to X, but even more surprising is the fact that the raucous and rowdy rockabilly punk band from LA is still going strong... in one form or another. These days, they're touring as a bona fide cowpoke band.

When pUnK Wasn't Cool

The first time I heard X was in the Spring of 1980. Jon and I were hanging out at our friend David's house in Tooele, Utah listening to music and talking about bands when David asked, "Have you ever heard X?" I replied, "I know Generation X, is that what you mean?" He pulled out his newly acquired record and began to educate us about the band and their legendary producer, Ray Manzarek, from the Doors, who, he informed us, also plays keyboards on the record. He removed the black vinyl disc from it's sleeve, placed the record on the turntable, and after a quick dusting, placed the stylus on the first track of side one... Los Angeles. It was obvious from that moment that X had a truly unique sound, and that they were worth paying attention to. I did. To me, X was evidence that punk could be poignant artsy and smart... eXactly what the stagnant music industry needed.

Sometime in the early eighties, I had the opportunity to see X live for the first of what would become many times. The show was in Salt Lake City at the old dilapidated fairgrounds coliseum... an appropriate place for the big rockabilly sound of X. 004, a local ska band, opened the show that night. 004* was followed by Angst, a semi-punk bay area band. Both gave exceptional performances, but when X took the stage, it became obvious who everyone was there to see. X sounded great, and seemed to give it all they had. The crowd's enthusiastic appreciation was reciprocated by the band who seemed joyously surprised by their favorable reception behind the Zion Curtain.

When Mighty Mo and I first met, one of the things we had in common was X, and we still go to see them perform whenever the opportunity presents itself. Strangely, from San Francisco to Madison, the most fun X shows have always been in SLC.***

Knit Pickin' and Grinnin' Twenty-Nine Years Later

I was thrilled when I learned that X had a country music alter ego band called The Knitters. First, I can't resist silent letters, (especially K), and secondly, I thought the idea was brilliant - Cowpoke music played by punk rockers. It's stuff like that that keeps life worth living. Speaking of living, one thing that I love about living in Santa Cruz, is the fact that I've had so many opportunities to see my favorite musicians perform in quaint venues, like Moe's Alley. Last night, Mighty Mo and I took the bus across town to see the Knitters play at Moe's. We had found out about it only a day before the show, and were happy that it hadn't sold out.** Whew!

Moe's Alley was filled to capacity. Apparently, word had gotten out about the Knitters, and the fact that the band features three X Patriots. The eclectic stylings of wardrobe exhibited by attendees was entertaining and amusing to observe. I assumed there would be lots of rockabilly folks, but saw only a few watered-down versions thereof. No jet-black haired gals sporting Betty Page bangs. Dang!

As we sat at a table in the back, listening to the opening act, X's vocalist, Exene strolled right behind Mighty Mo on her way to use the restroom while the crowd was distracted. I told Mighty Mo who had just walked behind her, and she proclaimed, "I love her." When Exene came out from the restroom, she passed by us again. As she did, I got her attention and told her, "We love you, Exene." She blushed, and sheepishly said, "Thanks" and disappeared into the crowd, hoping not to be recognized by anyone else.

When the Knitters took the stage, Moe's Alley came alive. We muscled our way to within fifteen feet of the stage before being thwarted by a wall of compressed thirty-five to fifty-five year old bodies that prevented us from getting any closer. It had been cold earlier, but now, within that mass of huddled humanity, I was warm and cozy.

The Knitters played for two hours, to an appreciative and enthusiastic crowd. The songs were truly country floavoured, but there was no mistaking the tell-tale harmonies of John X Doe and Exene that are so prominent in X.

Dave Alvin, the smokin' guitarist of Blasters fame really impressed me with his marvelous playing. His skillful manipulation of his fancy Fender Stratocaster gave the band a rockin' down-home sound. I think he gets better with age.

The low ceilings at Moe's are conducive to a powerful punch from the bass, and Jonny Ray Bartel made use of the special space. His stand-up bass sounded clear and powerful. An integral part of rockabilly, it was a pleasure to observe Mr. Bartel's technique.

The five Knitters played a handful of Merle Haggard covers and even treated us to a country version of The New World, a classic X song. The crowd swayed and sang along with most of the Knitters tunes, too. A truly warm and memorable show.

I called Moe's ahead of time to find out what the camera policy would be, and was happy to find out that I didn't have to sneak it in. Even though Moe's was crowded, and we didn't have the best position in the house, we managed to take a few photos and video before the batteries died.

The Knitters front-man, John X Doe, was personable and engaging

X band members, Exene and D.J. Bonebrake at Moe's

John X Doe and Exene

John X Doe's Highy 17 Warning

* 004 featured fellow Tooelian, Phil Miller, on saxophone

** Maybe it did sell out. That would explain why the joint was so crowded. I don't think I've seen so many people stuffed into our popular roadhouse before. It's probably happened, but not while I've been there.

*** I think it may have been the Dee Burgers.

SLC PuNk Meets the MeaT puPpeTs

In the early eighties, PuNk rock was still a fairly new phenomenon and hadn't yet sold out, (or bought in), to the corporate machine that seems to condemn everything it touches to some kind of entropic doom. According to many, that's what happened to PuNk the following August.*

I don't know how the Indian Center came to be the primary venue for the early bands in Salt Lake City, but I can't imagine a better place for raucous mosh-pits to slam to the sound of the new genre. The old brick building on 1300 South had large windows open wide, allowing fresh air to relieve the hot and sweaty moshers. The 60' x 80' theater could accommodate a substantial gathering too. The Indian Center was mainly used by the Native American community, however on occasion, a different kind of Mohawk touting tribe made use of the social center. SLC PuNks!

Flyer Image Thanks To writermama... Link

I had already heard lots of Black Flag before Henry Rollins joined the noisy ensemble. Jon and I wondered skeptically about Rollins addition to the band; we had seen first-hand what Steve Perry had done to Journey, plus, we could see the direction the new PuNk music was heading and it didn't look good.

Even though it was April, the weather was unseasonably cold and had even snowed. We arrived early at the Indian Center because we didn't want to miss any of the bands. We had paid seven bucks each for the fancy yellow-green transparent tickets and wanted to make sure that we got our money's worth, (unlike my own kids, I had to work to for my money when I was their age).

There were already a couple hundred kids there. A far cry from the old days when a handful of PuNks would show up with self mutilated hair. Now there were lots of short hairs and bald hairs running around with home-made t shirts and lots of black leather jackets. Those without the courage to cut their hair, had it PuNked up with lots of hairspray or some kind of goo. It was easy to spot the poseurs. Jon and I both still had long hair. Neither of us were into fads, and figured it was more PuNk to be different from all the conformist PuNks. We kind of stuck out and could only see two other guys with long hair in the entire Indian Center. One of them was sitting against the wall watching everyone nervously. I got the feeling that he was probably with one of the bands. Maybe even the new Black Flag guy. I was right. There he was, casually leaning against the cool brick wall, the very un-famous and young (nearly baby-faced) Henry Rollins on one of his first tours with Black Flag. I hope he had fun in SLC. I'm sure he was surprised that there were so many PuNks behind the Zion curtain.

Act One
Snot and Snowballs

The first band nearly caused a riot. Nig-Heist came out wearing only little white briefs. They seemed more interested in antagonizing the crowd than playing music. Their hair was long and flowing, like Ted Nugent wore his at the time, and that didn't go over well with the PuNks who began spitting big lougies at the nearly naked musicians. Oddly, the band seemed to enjoy the attention. The snot was getting out of control when a large snowball just missed the drummer's head and smashed into the wall behind the band. Jon doesn't usually miss. It was cold and snowy outside, but everyone inside was sweating from the mass of people crowded together moshing chaotically. We were covered with sweat, while the band, covered with snot, played on. More snowballs began to fly in through the large open windows on the east side of the building. Rage!

Act Two
The Massacre Guys

One of Salt Lake's local and most successful old-school PuNk bands, the Massacre Guys, played next. Jon and I had been outside cooling off, but when the MG's began to play, we gathered an arsenal of snowballs which we carried inside and distributed without prejudice. The most fun ever mosh pit ensued.

Act Three
Pinochio Wants to be a Real Boy

The Meat Puppets brought some sanity back to the Indian Center. The snot supply had dried up, and no more snowballs were directed at the stage, but the floor had become slippery from a combination of snow, snot and spilled drinks, resulting in many fallen and trampled moshers. Ouch! I went to the restroom to take a leak. As I washed my hands, I realized that there was no mirror, but could see that one had previously hung on the wall above the sink. Out of the corner of my face, I noticed a Native American guy standing in the doorway keeping an eye on the restroom. I pulled a comb from my back pocket and combed my hair as if I was looking at myself in the nonexistent mirror. He liked that. When I returned to the dance floor, I met a girl who I spent the remainder of the Meat Puppets set with. We danced together for about a half hour by the time the Meat Puppets stopped playing. I could see that Jon was feeling dissed, so I left her there with her friends who swiftly wisped her away. As our friends ushered us off in different directions, our eyes met as she was swallowed up by the mass of people, never to be seen again. I was smart enough to know that she would be one of many girls, and that my best friend comes first. We went outside to cool down while throwing snowballs at passing cars. Thump!

Act Four
Name with no Anagram
Black Flag was fun to watch but it wasn't the Black Flag I knew. I was standing against the stage with Mr. Rollins directly in front of me. He was heavily tattooed, and incredibly sweaty. He wore no shirt, and little Dolphin shorts. His long stringy black hair draped over the shaven side of his head when it wasn't thrashing about. Squatting and screaming, he stood before me at less than arms length, and I was strongly impressed with the feeling that Henry Rollins was an egotistical jerk. I realized that if I reached out and pulled his leg out from under him, that he'd fall right on his arse in front of everyone. I amused myself with the notion, and fought off the impulse. I did pull out some hairs on his legs though. He didn't like that, and offered a bit of a sissy-kick and a glare, before retreating a half-step, out of my reach. It was the beginning of the end of an era. Black Flag - Kills PuNk Dead!

A Quarter Century Later
PuNk is dead, but the Meat Puppets live on. Not many bands have the staying power of this trio from Arizona. I hadn't seen the Pinocchio brothers in nearly three decades, but a hat-full of hours ago, I had the opportunity to see the Meat Puppets live in my own town, in my favorite local theater. The Meat Puppets I saw all those years ago in the Indian Center appear to have become real boys... actually men now... old men. Nevertheless, the well weathered remnant of an age long gone demonstrated their craft with skill and professionalism as they presented their two-hour show at the Rio Theater in Santa Cruz. The Brothers Kirkwood expressed their kindred familiarity as they played a variety of multi-tempo songs ranging from Cashesque cowboy rythms to psychedelia. I was impressed by Curt Kirkwood's exclusive usage of an acoustic guitar throughout the show. It reminded me how versatile the acoustic guitar really is and how much fun I used to have playing mine through effect pedals to achieve unique** sounds.

The audience at the Rio Last night was much tamer and respectful than the snot hucking snowball chucking juveniles that attended the Meat Puppets show twenty eight years ago. I'm glad the Rio didn't get trashed. There was no stage diving and no mosh pit at last night's show either. In fact, there were only two moshers who gave it a go during the opening act.***


*MTV launched on August 1, 1981. About that same time, I attempted to start a PuNk is Dead campaign, but it didn't catch on.

** One of my favorite acoustic guitar sounds was created by holding the inner wire of a broken E string with needle-nose pliers and applying tension while laying it across a pickup. The tension in the string causes the outer wire to uncoil, making a nifty whirring sound.

*** Shaky Hands from Portland Oregon played an enthusiastic set, but I was disappointed that our favorite local band, the Vox Jaguars, didn't open the show. I assumed they would since they share the same recording label with the Meat Puppets (Anodyne).

PuNk isn't what it used to be

SKI KIRKWOOD!