Dear Friends,
I have no idea what this new version of Maine will be like. This version that I came to today. This very morning. This Maine without Doug.
Will it look the same?
Will it feel so different that I won’t like it anymore?
How will it feel?
By the time you read this, I might not know quite yet. We will be in Portland for a bit gathering supplies and maybe taking a look at the ocean. Taking a look at each other, too.
I haven’t seen this version of my wife. The one I anticipate will have a pain in her eyes that I can’t do anything about no matter how hard I try. The one who is grieving and missing the only guy in her life I could never feel jealous about how much she loves him.
The time without her is always so different and so tough. This time is the strangest yet, obviously, but I almost feel guilty about being glad to see her. I feel like I shouldn’t be giddy on the inside that I get to be in her presence, but I am.
*****
When I first started going to punk rock shows in 1985, I became a fan of a band called Joke Flower. They seemed to be cool and weird and old. They were one of the token locals on several of the early shows I went to, and I just liked them.
The first time I remember seeing them was a show that The Descendents and the Vandals played at Party Gardens. It was in September of my junior year of high school which was 1985. The Harvest also played and it was the birthday of a girl I had been dating (and would date again), so it was awkward seeing her there.
Mainly, though, I remember being pretty transfixed by how small of a fuck Joke Flower seemed to care about whether or not the crowd was into them. I know now, of course, that the main members of Joke Flower had been in the Phoenix scene since the beginning and were used to being ignored by all these new third and fourth generation (by that time) punk kids.
Again, I thought they were great.
I was always happy to see that Joke Flower was on the bill of shows I was going to go see and would make sure I was there early. They had this song I thought was hilarious called “Dirty Hands” that was about masturbating and dropping bombs. It made me giggle because I was 15 and because it was (and still is) clever as fuck.
After a while, I learned that there was also Victory Acres and occasionally they would pop up and play shows, too, over that next decade. I remember seeing them at the Mason Jar, I think, for the first time and loving the song “Let’s Just Lounge.” The bass line was so trippy on it.
In those early days, though, their split 12” record had not come out yet. Somebody was kind enough to dub me a copy of that, maybe my buddy, Chris B., in 1989 when I was living on 7thAvenue. I wore that sucker out.
Eventually I got a copy on vinyl and loved that the lyrics to all these crazy, wild, and weird sonic gems was in the record sleeve. I could read along and marvel at the interesting way Mary Clark’s mind worked. Dan and Mary Clark are people that I really idolized back in the day.
In 1992, the Great Ciarlino and I were looking for potential bandmates and we ended up going over and meeting with Dan and Mary. Dan was playing keyboards at the time and we talked shop, but nothing came of it except them wanting to steal Ciarlino from me. I’m surprised they didn’t, but I think maybe there was some drug stuff happening in their circle that reminded Ciarlino a bit too much about what he left when he got out of Dallas.
They didn’t need another singer hanging around and I had yet to start playing bass. Things could have been way different had I already been playing bass. I would have loved to have jammed with them. If you ever read this, Dan, I would still love to jam.
Thanks to journalistic pursuits, I have gotten to know Dan a little bit and he’s a really interesting and wonderful guy. It makes listening to the Joke Flower/Victory Acres split so much better. It should really be written the other way, I suppose. Victory Acres has side A.
My friend, Doug Clark, plays on the Victory Acres stuff, as does my friend, Derrick Bostrom (drums). Cris Kirkwood, another friend, also plays keyboards on the Victory Acres stuff, too. Everyone who graces both sides could really play. I mean, hell, Charlie Gocher from Sun City Girls played drums for Joke Flower and that guy was amazing.
“Hunger Dogs” is another favorite of mine from the Joke Flower stuff, as well as the closing track, “Man Destroys The Things He Loves.” All the stuff is/was great, though. As I mentioned, they were weird and wonderful and they didn’t give a fuck.
The Victory Acres side is totally bad ass, too. The Father Figures did a cover of “Looking Up The Bottle’s Neck” at one of our last shows with our friend, Leslie Barton, singing. It was so fun (and challenging) to play. I wish I had a good recording of it. Missed opportunities…
I rarely missed an opportunity to see Victory Acres back in the day when they would play the occasional show. It would be awesome to see them play one more time. If only…
*****
See you tomorrow.
Pinkus.
Comments