Disclaimer: Memory is a funny thing, and an elusive one. Meaning; I might have some of this wrong, as 1. my memory is not always accurate, like anyone and 2. it is from my perspective only. Any friends who were there, feel free to correct me or add things I have missed. It helps! Also, no gossip on anyone here, it aint about that. Personal details are on a surface level, and friends, girlfriends and others are re-named to respect their privacy. People in bands generally put their names out there on albums and in interviews anyway, and are not in the habit of staying anonymous, and therefore are named here. That said, anyone who is in the blog that wishes me not to use their name has only to ask.
The Cruel Desert That Spawned Us Calls Us Home - SOC's 1987 Tour; A perilous journey, Part III: California and Arizona and...California.
Wayne vs. the LAPD, Beans and Tequila, Godcore in Arizona
One night in LA I decided to venture out on my own in Torrance. I walked to a convenience store about a half a mile away from where we were staying. On the way back I came across an arrest scene to the side of the road. '...there were 5 cop cars, one scruffy lookin' dude was being held at bay on the curb, and one black dude was in one of the cars....I was going to casually slip by the whole scene which was stupid, not thinking of getting shot in the head or anything. A cop said to me '...'Hey you, come 'ere.' I walked up to him. He continued "You don't just walk up to something like this. You hang out and see what's goin' on.' After a while this fat cop comes up on the right.
"What's your name?"
"Wayne." What a smart ass!
"Wayne what?"
"Wayne Flower."
"Where you live?"
"Boise, Idaho."
"Who you stayin' with?"
"Friend down the street."
"Obviously, they don't do this kind of stuff in Boise, do they?"
"Guess not."
"Well, for future reference, you don't just walk up to somethin' like this, specially when it's the Sherriff's Department." In retrospect, it was wise advice for a naive young man.
Eventually, they let me pass. I ran into Scott standing outside, looking rather stunned. Apparently, when the cops pulled the men over, they had used a blaring loudspeaker and Scott thought they were speaking to them and he stood there with his hands in the air, freaking out. We played videos (Mario Brothers, Golf, Wrestling) and body-surfed. '...I think we've pretty much worn out our welcome here..."
I forget exactly how, but Pat got us a show in Arizona. For the life of us, we couldn't get a show in LA, getting on the Descendents show there was a no-go. Young Wayne recalls, "Here we are back in LA. Last night we were SUPPOSED to play a gig on Arizona. The plan was to play this show with the Dehumanizers & cruise back to here, hang out 'till Tuesday [heeyyy... ; ] go play our show with AOD [Adrenaline Over Dose] in Santa Barbara. Well, it didn't work out that way. We left here yesterday, after an evening of hell spent in a tequila bottle...'
What followed was a fight between Scott and Erik, prompted by some awful farts Scott was letting while laying in a sleeping bag on the floor. I had to step between them. Tensions get thick, often, amongst young dudes on the road, especially headstrong ones.
We drove to Phoenix the next morning. I note it was '$80 worth of gas' from Phoenix to LA!! (Oh man, how times have changed!). We found the gig promoter's apartment complex. The guy (Scott) told us the show was cancelled! He said the Dehumanizers had come by that morning. He had, or so he said, called Dave Portnow a week prior and told him that he couldn't afford the hall. At that point, '...we decided not to deal with Dave at all anymore.'
Promoter Scott let us in and we lazed around his huge apartment while he tried to scare up a party we could play at, and he ordered us some pizza. He told us that he could get us on a 'God Core' show (Christian hardcore, which was on the rise then) and he said "Yeah, I'm into it. You may have noticed by my books..."
We were beat from the drive so we all crashed out on the floor. Promoter Godcore Scott was watching evangelists on his TV as we slept; ' ...I woke up with a cramp in my foot and an evangelist in my mind.' Then, '... [Promoter]Scott was rappin' about the Lord. He wasn't pushin' it or nothin'. We had agreed to the Godcore show, but it never happened.
We found out the promoter of our Phoenix, Arizona show was into Godcore. It just didn't make sense to us, Godcore, but we rolled with it. Problem was, the guy lied to us about us being on the bill. And we had driven there from LA. Not very God-like.
Rockpile Records show with AOD
AOD was a pretty cool punk band and we got a great show with them at a record store in Santa Barbara, CA (where Pat had gone to college). The store moved aside the records and we played in the middle of the store. I remember it being one of our best shows on the tour. Our hosts drove to the show. We had a tight set, people responded well. The other band on the bill was a band called 'Half Life' who I was not impressed with (I was such a little snob!). AOD, on the other hand, was 'hot'.
Above: Adrenalin OD LP that was out during the time SOC played with them in Santa Barbara, CA. Right: Pic of the band around the same time. Below: A flyer from the Boise AOD show. They were great live.
We had hooked up with a girl we knew from Boise who lived in Oxnard, [who will be known here as 'T-']. We had arranged to stay at her place. She lived with two other 'chicks', one of whom I thought was cute '...at this point if I see any female I think she is cute, but C- really is...' The evening consisted of playing quarters with T- and one of her room mates. Later, Erik somehow talked one of T-'s roommates into posing for some photos. 'They didn't get any nude shots. I guess they got a good shot of Ted lickin' her ass..' Mind you, this was all in fun, not porn! Then everyone got it into their drunken heads to get nude shots of us! We did one shot where we all have our pants around our ankles and are tucking in our 'jewels'. Somebody has those historic shots.
T- called us and said that her scooter got a flat and she was '...across from some Mexicans so she wanted us to go get it...' So we drove there and got her scooter [and what is ironic here is that one of us was of Mexican descent], and on the way back we got a flat! I remember it was right on the side of a really busy road and changing the tire was really sketchy, and Erik was doing it with no shoes on. Yes, as I have said; dirtbag punkers.
The Descendents 'FinALL' Show
We all (our LA hosts included) went to the first of many to come 'final' shows of the Descendents (though they did eventually end and morph into ALL, who are still around today, I believe). The show was at a huge LA venue called 'Fenders' (I have no idea if it is still around, so much from those days is now gone) There were tons of people there, and it of course was on my mind that I could have been playing bass that night with the Descendents. But I had no regrets about my decision.
I actually ran into Bill Stevenson (drummer for the Descendents) he was chatting with some folks, I waved and said hi, and he looked at me and simply nodded hello, then completely ignored me. It seemed odd, possibly he didn't recognize me. I don't really know the guy, but maybe he wasn't used to people saying no to him. This is, of course, all conjecture on my part.
There were many skinheads present (this was the tail end of the times when they had reached greater numbers in the bigger cities). They were very intimidating, and none of us joined the thrash pit (Pat may have, or Scott, I'm not sure). There was a huge thrash circle, people actually 'skanking', a sort of parading ape march, arms and legs swinging up and down, slowly, with a defiant air, that I think started in England at the skinhead shows.
Descendents 'final' show (one of a few)
I will close with Young Wayne (now a completely separate entity than I, since writing these blog entries) and his memories (oh so much fresher than Middle-Aged Wayne's) of the gig. But first, another funny snippet of my wide-eyed Boise Boy impressions of big city traffic;
'…that's the thing about LA – millions of freeways, all of them full of cars all the time. At certain times of day it can take like three hours just to get across town…"
"…we stood outside in the ticket line so we missed them [the first band] turned out that we didn't have to [wait to get in] we were on the [guest] list. The place is so fucking huge, with a bar and everything. Next up was Capital Punishment. They were fuckin rad. They play intense thrash. The vocalist has a distinctive growl. They have a chick bass player with long black hair. She makes these weird expressions. She seemed like a witch, kind of. Turns out she's 34 years old. The drummer's way rad, so's the guitarist, he's got silver hair cut into kind of a mowhawk. He's 37! [so funny to read at age 42!] We talked to them later, their [they're] real cool. We even ran into them at the beach the next day. Next up was Social Unrest. They have two guitars and they tore it up. I've always liked their records…Only a few fights broke out. One dude even pulled a knife right behind us. Once during the Descendents I felt someone kicking me in the ass. I turned around to see two skins rolling around on the floor. One of them was struggling to get up and in the process was kickin' me…MIA's set isn't even worth mentioning other than that it was incredibly boring [such a rude young man!]. By the time the Descendents were up everyone was all fired up. Most everyone got on the floor. Everyone fully got into it & they ripped. It was weird seeing it and knowing I could be playing up there…Anyhow it was a lot of fun.'
We had planned on making the rest of the trip split into 3 days and headed to Zion National Park in Utah. There is a funny sentence, both in and out of context, and in light of Pat's beacon-holding persona in the band; 'Pat drove us to Zion.'
The truly beautiful Zion Park in Utah
It was $5 to camp so we decided against that and planned on hitting another national park and just hang out. And then it all changed while Young Wayne dozed (a rare thing, as I have said, for me to sleep in a moving van). 'I was asleep when the engine blew. We were 30 miles outside of a place called Green River, Utah…' Green River, Utah ended up being our home for the next few days, and a famous chapter in the life of SOC.
Next up; The Green River Utah Blow Out, and Wayne's first last gig.
No comments:
Post a Comment