Hug the close ones

Susan Spitz was my first love. I was crazy about her and she just wanted to be friends for like the first year. Eventually I was persuasive enough, we ran around after school and youth group, and I well remember posing for prom night pictures while Maggot and Harsh Lipton clowned us in the driveway. We saw Fishbone together. And went camping for the first time. She warmed the chambers of the hearts of more than one EV'er, that's a fact. We stayed close as our lives took different turns, and she stayed up in Virginia after college.

She lived in recent years with a really tough, debilitating pain from an accident that left her arm paralyzed. She took her life Friday night. I don't know how to imagine her not around. We stayed in touch all these years, but sometimes the pauses got too long. I hate that I hadn't called her more recently, or sent a note. Hard as we try, it's tough to avoid the regrets.

So here is to the hurt we can't always see. She was one of the all time greats. It will be hard to figure out how to miss her. I loved her about as deeply as a person can. Do you ever really get over that? Why would you want to?

There are some more pictures over here.

FARE THEE WELL, MISS CAROUSEL

Well, the Co'Rolla breathed her last breath Tuesday morning. She wasn't sounding so good on the way to work, decided I should drive around the block a little and let her warm up. It became pretty apparent she wasn't going much farther. Turning around on this little side street, she just damn give out. Our last minutes together were good ones, she was trying, coughing and sputtering, but in the end her race was run. She wouldn't even turn over, seized up. I had to push her into this spot, and then today the truck came for her. She's a cube now, waiting for a ride to China for her next incarnation. I got her 6 years ago, and we came just shy of going one hundred thousand miles together. Thanks to everyone who rode along. It was a good ride.


Char bought her from some crackhead in San Jose off craigslist. This was his sketchy bill of sale. You read that right. $950.

Some of you might remember this view.

Chariot of fire.


Hallowed be thy name.

DJ Chuck Chillout

I got to meet Chuck Chillout the other day when I shot this story for the Times. He was cool as hell. If you ain't down, he got name checked on all kinds of old hip hop records, and broke artists like Public Enemy on his radio show. Legendary. Seems the radio station he works for Kiss FM got closed up. Let's hope Chuck lands on his feet.

IN THE PRESENCE OF GREATNESS

41 YEARS, SAME OLD RUSE

Homage to a jam.

DERBY DAYS

Spring 2010, meeting of the minds in Luhville. Radar, Darnel, Jizza. Pure classics.

CHARACTERS

I miss these guys, but I trust they are out there keeping it sketchy.

The Proudest Canadian

For those folks dwelling up there in America's Hat, life can be discouraging. Your neighbors in the land of the free know nothing about your homeland or the kindness of your people. All we know is that your beer sucks and we've somehow stolen your greatest cultural export: hockey.

Well that's where Stompin' Tom Connors comes in. He keeps the home fires burnin', makes you proud to pass a Sudbury Saturday Night, laugh off some back-breaking work in the fields of Tilsonburg, or haul Margo's Cargo to Ontario. Ask any Canadian worth their salt, "Who's the best man in Ottawa?" And they'll reply, "Big Joe Mufferaw!"

Stompin' Tom almost makes you wish you were Canadian, almost.

Enjoy this ode to the most delicious spuds, the ones Bud is driving down from Prince Edward Island (and stay tuned for the creepy Jayne Mansfield promo).

WHITEY IS STILL ON THE MOON

R.I.P. Big time. We're all imperfect, we're all fallible, but Gil's talk outweighed his walk. What else is there to say?

Welcome to Epic Vistas

EPiC ViSTAS is excited to have two new contributors writing for your reading enjoyment. I am hoping with all the combined stories that these two and the rest of us here at EV have, a 43,458 page book (with illustrations) that will take half a lifetime to read will be compiled and written. 

"Have you given up life? Do you feel that there is nothing left to live for? Well fret no more. Now you can spend all of your remaining decades living vicariously through the wondrous lives of the Epic Vistas Contributors in their new NSFW fantastical true tales anthology, "Life is a highway, I'm gonna run train on it all night long."

*$10 p.p. in u.s.

 Can't wait to hear what this old crow has to say

Papa Wright's gonna bring it to a higher level

Was that the random stripper in the basement show? I think I missed that one.

Victro had to ask. So yeah, there was a question as to whether or not the previous pic was from the night where a woman was so moved by the Mercury Birds that she stripped down and danced. I think it was the same night but I can't certify that.

But here's the image. Same band, same basement, what's the difference? This young woman had stumbled across the party, drank a lot of beer and, at Mr Jackson's urging—directed at everyone and no one—to "take your clothes off and get retarded," did just that. Just look at the happy faces. She really lit up the room. Well she and her boyfriend ended up staying for the entire show and then hung out at the house into the wee hours drinking beer. We never saw her again. I wonder where she is now?

Hands down: my favorite drummer (no offense to the many other great drummers I have known)

I've known this suave cat for at least twenty years. We were in high school together. I saw his bands (Stewface, Resol, Dart 360, Mercury Birds, Red Fang) more times than I could count. I'm sure I have permanent ear damage from standing five feet away as he pounded his drums in small living rooms, basements, and clubs—most recently in October.

This snap is from a Mercury Birds show on Van Ness Ave in the Mission district, SF. I believe it was the summer of '99. Those were good days, the best days.

New National Holiday: ODB Day

Yes, Yes, Y'all. Our main man was born on 11/15/68 and he left this earth on 11/13/04. S0, since I was drunk on Saturday and forgot to honor our man on the day he was stricken from this earth, I will instead bring your attention to his birthday.

Big Baby Jesus would have been 42 years crazy today. Get some.









Put your choice ODB lines in the comments (hint: "i'm immune from all viruses, i get the cocaine it cleans out my sinuses").

Halloween in Greensboro

Walking the streets of Greensboro, catching a sold out showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show, Drinking some expensive bar beers. The streets were filled with freaks.

Monday Night Football Hank Jr. and Kiss

The whole Halloween gang (plus kiss). Dave behind the lens

Couples skate only.

Bo and PeeWee

 Something about this is too natural

 Legends

Death to Chauvinistic Pig Attitudes!!!

What can I say? Some of you have seen this, no big deal, it's on the internet. But have you watched it enough times? Can one watch it enough times?

Damn, I miss the sweet, sunny south.

See you in Guntersville, suckas.



EDIT: Dirty South remix

Bourbon Not Brownies!

…my personal theme for the HSB festival in SF. Who eats a brownie in SF if they don't wanna get stoned out of their gourd? (no need to respond mixmasterandrewfreshluv.)
Only had Sunday to attend this year and couldn't deal with the crowds (estimated at 600,000 by the Chronicle, but they are hardly a reliable source on anything). We posted up in the cut and watched Scruggs, Doc Watson, Del McCoury, and Emmylou. The view was lacking but it's one of the better spots to actually HEAR the music.
The local crew has been a bit despondent about the big event for the last couple years. Anyone wanna fly out and light a fire for next year?


The small swath of silver in the middle of the stage is Del McCoury singing "1952 Vincent Black Lightning." Jealous?


Neer do' wells.


What are ya kiddin'? We got us a family here!


Trying to get a good look at Emmylou (ok, i'm living vicariously).

Willie Sandwich

It's great to see three legends together in one place. Look at these happy faces, basking in each others' glow.

In the summer of 2009 we got two out of three, which ain't bad. Willie, the Coug, and Dylan played at the minor league ball park in Stockton, CA. I say two out of three because Willie is Willie, Mellencamp was absolutely fucking mindblowing, but Dylan was a major disappointment. For full disclosure I went in sour on Dylan (aside from a few odd jams I think he sucks) but his show was embarrassing. We couldn't stop laughing thinking he sounded like Adam Sandler covering Dylan.

But yeah, this photo is from a show in Greensboro, NC back in 2000 (I think). The same night I got a bottle of High Life signed by the Red Headed Stranger. It's the only beer I'll never drink.

Enjoy the tunes.