Dead Kennedy's are coming

1/14/20 22:44 Bethlehem, PA

Just a few words before I close out for the day.  Having goals is giving a direction to work.  I had a white board installed during the Christmas break and already it is full.  Each morning I write down my goals for the day.  It is not only goals, but staying present.  I can go off on a tangent and search for concerts in the area and find myself thinking of Meli.  How come she does not call?  Like now. I’m laughing since I have been reading The Power of Now, “True Communication is Communion, the realization of oneness which is love.  He also writes about addiction, implies love addiction.  “The greatest catalyst for change in a relationship is complete acceptance of your partner as he or she is, without needing to judge or change them in anyway.”  In the past I would become angry and why, based out of fear and ego.  I project fear and vulnerability.  But I can make a choice, either wallow in self-pity, how come she does not call or I can make positive changes, I can read like, The Power of Now.  And now it is time to call it a night.  The Dead Kennedy's are playing in Philadelphia in March and tickets go on sale tomorrow.  Maybe I will be there.  Maybe Dave wants to join me?

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Henry Rollins and his picture show arrived in Philadelphia for two nights

1/29/18 

Henry Rollins played two shows at Philadelphia’s Trocadero Theatre.  The first night was sold out.  My brother and I were there.   We ate dinner across the street at a little hole in the wall. We ate there before.  The food is served fast and fresh and is delicious and cheap.  Dave is familiar with the waitress, “You should have seen her ten years ago, she was hot.  I know she doesn’t look like it now.”  Our waitress barely squeaked a word and wore a dark green combat jacket and a scarf inside the cold place. Somehow my brother could still find her beauty underneath the layers. 

Rollins.  Let me tell you, I was surprised.  This show was not the spoken word performance I have been to.  I wrote about a few shows in this blog.  The last Rollins show was meant to be my last for The Henry, but time heals all wounds as they say.  Maybe my soon to be ex is reading this?  I can see her shaking her head.  I digress. 

This show was different, he said and he did as he said: I will stand on stage right, which is to your left and I will stand here through the night so you can see the pictures I have taken.  Something like that. 

Rollins, the world traveler, the repeater of certain jokes like his impersonation of George W and the man’s struggles to speak.

The story of riding a train through the winter in Siberia.  Who would want to travel to Siberia in the winter, only Rollins since it's a good story.  Eating on said train and vomiting in shared public restroom.  I have to add, his description of the intense cold – stabbing you in the bones, the way his breath hung in the frost air for seconds before collapsing was classic Rollins - hysterical.

Vivid pictures appeared on a screen to the center. His appreciation for the diverse people he met and who he took pictures of was like peering into Rollins’ mind for a couple of hours.  He has traveled over the world, 130 countries, 7 continents, including a rehashed piece about his penguin adventure in Antarctica.  There were some rehashing, but not too many.

This was not a night of celebrity worship.  It was a night when we can see many sides of the shared planet.  To listen to Henry tell us about a boy in an orphanage who was lost in mind and spirit, I share his picture.  Nothing could break the child's spell or inner pain.  The desperate mother digging through a mountain of garbage with her children, her left hand outstretched as if she was poking into some hideous.  Her daughter smiles to the camera.  The Buddhist monks, his description of why he liked the picture, the orange robes in contrast to the white bowls. 

The last picture I am sharing is when he auditioned for Black Flag.  It's in inspiring story of a young Rollins taking a risk to follow his passion.

Rollins was not there to objectify.   He wants to share their stories in front of audiences who can pay for a night out, and may never want to see parts of the world which is ravaged by war, poverty and starvation.  Yet, it was in these places he dared to go that he discovered humanity – true generosity was abundant, sharing whatever little they had. He felt safe.  He can tell us that there is nothing to fear.  Iranians are good people, so are Syrians and North Koreans.  We are all one for a brief dot in time.  I hope you can catch this show.

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Henry Rollins is a sell out

10/30/16 17:27

I heard the criticism about the Henry Rollins for years, a self-absorbed, macho, and of course a lunatic.  I have a friend who were threatened by the Henry years ago.  I have read his articles and books, and would say I am a fan of the Henry; the myth which he created when he adopted a different last name, "Rollins" when joining Black Flag.  I always respected the Henry who would tell us at his shows that he was accessible, since he had the punk attitude; there is no difference to the person on the stage and the audience, we were united.  “I am here because of you,” the Henry tells his audiences. You could send the Henry an email and he would respond which is respectable and follows the punk ethos.  When seeking advice, for instance, on books or on bands such as - should I see Suicide who are playing in the city? The Henry thought it was a good idea and I went.  And I walked out before the concert was over.  Their last concert.  The Henry removed his email address from his website, no more direct contact with the Henry.  Last Sunday, I saw the Henry in Philadelphia and was not impressed.  He seemed sort of out of place on the stage and I left the show before it was over.  But before the show, I received a promotion from the TicketWeb pitching a special Q&A with Henry.  For $125 I could ask the Henry questions after the show, get my picture with the Henry and a signed laminate from the Henry.  What happened to the accessibility?  Now the Henry will charge you.  You think this was only for his fans in Philadelphia?  Not quite.  The same promotion was in-place when I was saw him in Westbury.  For $125, I could meet the Henry and ask the Henry a question.  I ignored the promo, brought my books for his signature to the gig - since I’d like to have them for my or the Henry collection.  The show itself was full of rehashed stories which I heard over the years and yet he added a new twist on his tip toeing around his sexuality, since he has been friends with Ru Paul for years.  Who cares?  He is seen hanging out with Ru Paul and the stories fly around the web that they are an item. The Henry received an email from a distraught fan.  Sounds like bull shit to me.  Listen, you are on the pride ride or you are not.  Either way, I don’t care.  It takes guts to tell the world you are gay.  It also takes integrity.  So, after the show I go back to the shiny monster tour bus for the Henry. I see his manager, who makes an announcement to the five of us standing around for the Henry, “Sorry fellas, the Henry is not coming out due to liability and management contracts and etc.”  Wait, you mean to tell me he’s not coming out, but if I paid $125 I could have met him after the show?  First he denied it and then made up some shit that was only in Philadelphia.  Henry Rollins, you lost this fan.  You’re a sellout.  You’re gouging your fans for all they can give.  Go on repeating your stories around for the rest of year and try to get on another ad for Calvin Klein.  You said it, you are a whore.  Your words.

Delayed at the Airport and watching an irate woman take on US Air

3/16/14 16:49 Home

One hour delay due to mechanical problems or some other excuse…

While I was delayed in Philadelphia; waiting for my flight back to Islip, I watched an irate woman, who although delayed was dressed impeccably in a business suit with a beautiful black leather hand bag.  She had long straight brown hair, and an expensive watch.  I imagined her to be more composed most of the time, but this time - it was different.  The extended delay was a problem for her.  She missed an important meeting and she was pissed.  She was letting everyone know how pissed off she was.  She yelled at a US Air representative who stood behind a counter and he appeared stoic and resolute.  I knew by watching his passive face and restrained response, this was part of his job.  He’s been through this before, perhaps been through professional training of what to say, and not to say when a passenger was this upset.  He was trying his best to calm her down, but he lost her - she was too far into her anger to see past anything.  Most eyes were watching how the scene developed.  “I was bumped off my flight and I have waited here since ten AM!  This is unacceptable! This is poor customer service!”  She actually waved her finger at him, as if scolding him.  A small crowd formed, he asked if he could help some others who needed his immediate assistance, she flung her arm out (giving him her reluctant approval to help the others) and then this older woman; let’s refer to her as the grandmother in the scene, tried her best to listen to the irate woman and seemed to convey some sympathy, by shaking her head and making a pouty face.  “Oh, you poor dear.”  But when another woman appeared things switched.  The other woman wore a big NY Giants T-Shirt and was clearly disabled, perhaps born with the defects which made her arms, lifeless; her face hung loosely, her tongue jutted from wet lips.  When she overheard the commotion; the public display of irritation; she too looked with sympathy at the professional woman who was beside herself, brimming with anger.  The disabled woman sensing the other's frustration and anger repeated, “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.”  The professional woman’s tone changed.  She looked at the disabled woman, and tried to tell her how...she waited...and was told she’d get credit, but that wasn’t happening… all of a sudden the shift we waited for…which we hoped from the US Air agent…occurred.  The professional woman looked at the disabled woman and I saw her shoulders slouch and she sighed.  Peace was restored.  A lesson learned for us.  

Sure, the delay was an inconvenience…but it was only a delay.

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Running in Philadelphia encourages the soul

Running in Philadelphia I get to see the people sleeping on the sides of the train tracks, the man who looked like a black Jesus who ate a sandwich he found. He waved at me but I ignored him. On the way back his clear eyes met mine and I said hey…hey…keep on running. Keep on hiding on abandoned mattress you keep in the grass. Her head was covered by a red hoodie appeared like a solemn monk possessing a chalice of wine but it was something else that caught the attention of a man who leaned in close. Other joggers were running the opposite way. I was the late solo on the street who wanted to go as far as possible before turning around. Up the steps to the museum I glanced back at the grey clouds covering the tips of the buildings, their workers shrouded in the mist and far up from the street. Around the building I could feel the pains in my legs but pushed further. I was not stopping especially when a group of young women - cross country runners - were there. No…impress the younger generation and prove you still got it. There were no hoots. I don’t know if I still have anything, but I kept going, past the old school crew buildings, missing an awkward bicyclist with wobbly front tire, shaking hands. Get the fuck off the path until you know how to ride a bike, besides there are others who need to run by you. Wobbly head with a helmet. The Schuykill River held the faint fog, light wisps

of cool moisture merged in the warm morning air. Two - eight men crew teams were out practicing, their coach yelling into a megaphone…ready? Row….four… you can do better than that….that was a mile and I turned around, passed the statues and monuments…other joggers like the large black woman who I passed earlier and who sung something out loud to all of us within her proximity. She looked like a star from a soap opera which was cancelled ten years ago. Passed the Rocky statue and remember feeling inspired to box when I saw that movie. Each time I run this course I think of the movie, leaving the house before the sun is up an back to crack some eggs into a glass and drink it down. In fact I saw a boxer this time, running side to side sporting a gray sweat suit. He swung out his hands. Go Rock! Before I headed back to the hotel I stopped in the cathedral and lit a candle in front of the St Patrick statue. Next week this time Ma and I will be in Atlanta. Back to running. Each time I run back to the hotel I see the insane freaks who talk to themselves, run in the middle of traffic or just the smoking office workers who watch out for the women….they hunt for the next beautiful thing while I passed them with one eye open, the burning, the dripping out the intoxicants through sweat.

We Were Promised Jetpacks Roar at Union Transfer Philadelphia

5/6/12 18:44 Since both shows in the New York area were sold out, I drove Amanda to see We Were Promised Jet Packs at Union Transfer in Philadelphia. I was beat from playing two hours of basketball in the morning but a little nap did the trick, I fell into a deep enough sleep the body shook and a dream which I forget flooded by sensibilities. Driving to Philly can be a challenge, the traffic can be thick, the weather can flare up and there is the chance that somewhere on the New Jersey Turnpike a police officer can pull you over for driving 55 in a construction zone or where there is not a shoulder. Once the weather gets warmer the work begins on the highways and doesn’t stop till the cops make their quotas for the decade. We encountered a sever accident on the Belt, heavy traffic on 347 close to where we live and a good dose of the Saturday Westward bound night revelers. We were delayed on the Belt and passed a flipped over limo, I watched a cop crouch down on his hands and knees and he looked inside, I thought I saw a leg and a black leather shoe covering a foot. Traffic picked up and the insanity grew with the speed of our cars. Finally we made it to Horsham and met my brother there, picked him up and headed to 76. Route 76 is a gamble. I didn’t know what to expect and I thought I saw the red haze of distant break lights, but the cars flowed and darted in and out dangerously on the dark highway. We made it in and saw both opening bands: Fort Lean and Breton. I wrote about We Were Promised Jetpacks previously, we saw them last October at Webster Hall in the city. They came onto the stage later than I expected, after 11 PM and stayed on till after midnight. There was no encore like the Webster Hall show, but this band is it, you can feel the energy rise in the room as their music roared. See them as soon as you can, buy their music before they become sucked into the wasteland of consumerism. There was little give and take between the band, they were tight and played with precision. I believe this band will be huge. Set List:

Short Bursts Human Error H2R Voices Peace Sign Ships Backseat Medicine Keeping Warm Sleeves Sorethumb Pear Tree Thunder Before I go, Union Hall is a unique place for a show…I was able to get up to the balcony and took some pictures. The vastness of the open space is endless. It’s a new venue in the city and worth it to see a show and have some beers. The staff there are all very personable which is sometimes missing in NY City, we know it’s true. After the show we spoke to the bassist Sean Smith who was down to earth and offered to take Amanda’s album back to the band to have it as well as a playlist signed. Sean was obliging for a picture and a hug from an adoring fan and perhaps his future wife? Sure. My daughter can dream like I used to dream of Debby Harry...

Henry Rollins hits Philadelphia...if you saw him last year save your money

3/16/12
Last night the one and only Henry Rollins marched onto a bare stage, with bright lights shining, he performed a spoken word performance at the Union Transfer in Philadelphia. The venue is new for Philly opening last September, what used to be a spaghetti manufacturing plant. The interior was rustic and spacious with dark wood, think an wild west bar smacked in Philly. It was a sold out audience for one of the few East Coast stops on Rollins new tour, The Long March Tour. He came out wearing his typical black t-shirt, black Dickies pants and black boots. For most of the two plus hours he spoke, he kept in one area on the stage, the cord wrapped around his hand, sweat balls dripping off his left elbow, though he did not take a drink of water, and cracked a smile now and then. It was my third time seeing Henry perform; I was curious how this new show would be. It began with perceived threats to the United States, as an example a lesson on Abraham Lincoln and his address before the Young Men’s of Lyceum that he gave in 1838. The speech theme was; our country's threats are for the most part self contained. There is an ignorance and violence permeating within the ranks. He shared his knowledge of the constitution and the role of state’s rights. We live in a young country compared the Europe or Asia Pacific which can share a multitude of centuries. His impressive knowledge of history was impressive. But, he repeated stories from last year’s show, for instance his trips to Korea, Tibet and of course the trip to Vietnam and the classic punch lines from Mr. Kahn, you can call me anything as long as you don’t call me late for dinner. “John McCain is an angry man.” Another story which was repeated and I remember this one clearly at World Café was the story of when a girl lost her eye at a Black Flag show in New York. I waited and heard the gasp from those who have not heard or read the story in his book Get In the Van. While I’m at it, he did repeat the rent boy story last year. It is funny, and he added a little more, weighing which was a better candy bar for the money - a Snickers or a Three Musketeers. The story converges with another story which took place in New York City when two homosexuals fought on a sidewalk. So I asked myself, why was I there and would I attend another Rollins show? This was billed as a new show, so I was a little piqued. I expected to hear new stories, but Rollins rehashes his monologues, performances around the world. He shares how he loves the audience and has to always be on the move, he performs approximately 150 shows a year. He does not want to be home. His words, “I am a work slut” permeates his writings. There were some new features this year, but I have to say last night was one I didn’t have to see and I felt this way after the second show I saw last year in Philly, the night before I saw him perform in Harrisburg. It was almost the same show word for word. If you have not seen Rollins, I would recommend getting to a show. What impresses me is his selfishness when meeting his fans, and I am a fan of his. Last night he signed autographs, hugged some women, took pictures and answered all of the questions. His point, he comes from the punk world and there is no difference between him and us and that is the attitude his has. Of course I brought my pile of his books and I had the opportunity to tell him how much his work means to me. I’m close to a year of reading Rollins and my goal at one time was to read all of his books. His work has helped me cope with Ali’s cancer and other distractions. He thanked me for bringing the books and we shook hands. Before he left I asked if there was a possibility the Rollins Band would get back together, “No. We’re done. I’m too old for that sort of thing.” There are some faces I will never forget, the woman posing with Henry as if she was a model and his expression of his amusement. The two brothers with glasses, the one who didn’t shut the fuck up, and Henry nodding and saying, it’s alright…whatever bullshit they were talking about; the speckled kid was on speed since he could not tell Henry was trying to patronize them and move away. Maybe they were all reflections of me as I shivered in the cool mist and waited for Henry to sign my books, but barely could utter sentences. Knowing me, I will see him again since I respect who he is and what he stands for.

Henry Rollins is 50 & back in Harrisburg & Philly

It’s not common for my brother and me to hang out. Last Thursday was one of the rarities, we planned on seeing Henry Rollins in Philadelphia, but the show was sold out. I bought a ticket, before speaking to Dave, since I never know his plans. Also, let’s be honest, how many times have we bought that extra ticket for whom ever and it’s a bust. Anyway, I bought two tickets for his show in Harrisburg, PA. This was the first show back in the US on a shortened spoken word tour to celebrate his 50th birthday. After close to two hours on 76 heading west we arrived in Harrisburg. We passed the Howard Johnson’s on 83, where I stayed with Ali and the girls (don’t think Joe or Bella have been there) when we visited Hershey Park all of those years ago.
Harrisburg is a neat little town, some cool bars on the Main Street that we gearing up for St. Patrick’s Day. It’s a diverse town as well, since for the few hours we were in there, there was a decent mix of gay, African American, poor and rich, but most of the crowd at the venue were hipsters. I loved the fact there were a lot of young men and women, who beamed with an odd excitement for the appearance of the uncle of punk Henry Rollins.
The rapid two hour show was fantastic as Henry began with an apology; after all of these years of spoken word performances, this was his first show in the city. He described how he did not intentionally ignore Harrisburg. In fact Black Flag performed in the city a few times and he brought up some old haunts. He also described getting there the day before cause he wants to be prepared, visiting the local YMCA and coming in contact with drunks in the afternoon. ‘As if getting drunk in the afternoon is truly- taking it to the man!”
Mr. Rollins touched on the shows at Joe’s Pub in New York which started off the tour, and described walking up town in New York into a fierce headwind and coming across a man on the sidewalk hawking fur coats, “Get yar fur coats here! You know you want one!” Mr. Rollins has an incredible ability to mimic, but he is conscientious enough to know he should not mimic everyone in case he sounded xenophobic - as was his reason not to share a mimic of a North Korean performer.
And that is essentially the show, his travels to China, Beijing and the thick pollution and how he pretends to lick off the pollution off his fingers. Off to North Korea and his escapes to allude to truth to his ever present tour guards that he is a journalist. Off to Vietnam and his hysterical tour guide, Kong. “Can I call you Mr. Kong?” The man replied, “You can call me Mister, you can call me Kong, as long as you don’t call me late for dinner.” I will add, "John McCain is an angry man." See the show and you'd get the joke.
Henry’s story of his first ever visit to the local Cosco with Heidi his official office staff, is worth the ticket. He shares his disdain for our large American diet on fast food, our cells dying as they cling for life, but the best was when he came to the literature section and finding mostly conservative books, “Hannity, Palin, Bush. “ This led to reading President Bush’s Decision Points out loud. He said it was written by ghost writers, “Not the ghosts of the thousands of troops killed or innocent Iraqi citizens…” The master at mimic was at full force. He had an audience of one who laughed out loud and from another (who was offended) a stare that tried to shut him up, Rollins glared him down and recited out loud…the other eventually huffed off defeated.

**Let me add something, his story when he confronted Dennis Hopper had me on the floor**

Closing the show, he reflected on what bits of wisdom he could impart. Throughout the show he said he responds to all emails. He does. There are some young men and women who ask his ten favorite books and for his musical choices. Let me add, do yourself a favor and buy both editions of Fanatic, his books on his musical tastes, there only $5 off his website. In Harrisburg, he shared how he downloaded a large file onto a teenager’s computer while visiting his parents, and over dinner the young man said, “Thank you.”
“What for?”
“The Stooges”
In Philly he was proclaiming we are the generation to change the world, which he did not blare in Harrisburg. He pumped up as he bid farewell and saluted us. The lights went on and we were off into the warm night.
So this is where I will impart my wisdom, if you’ve seen one show on this tour, there is no need to spend another chuck of cash cause you’re going to get exactly the same - performance. He is a true performance artist.
On Friday I saw Mr. Rollins again, this time alone at the World Café in Philly. I heard the same jokes, same pauses as he gets “sidetracked” and back to his stories, the same reactions, and facial expressions. There were little changes, but there is no need to go to more than one show. That being said, I am a new Henry Rollins fan and look forward to next year as he launches a longer tour which will bring into a town near you. Now back to reading his book, A Dull Roar.