Dear Mike

Hi Mike. Weird weekend that started with a 3 minute voice message from your favorite Croat asking me for help tracking down Schmidtheads photos or flyers. It's actually the second time he's asked, and the second time I've had to explain that not only do I have a very limited memory of anything that really happened between '85-'88 in Arcata (sadly, given all the shows, ASB stuff and just general hijinks we got into) and didn't take photos like I should have been at shows and stuff. I was busy taking weird personal candids, but in terms of shows - I was all into doing it, and as usual, didn't have the confidence to just get in there and take photos. It is probably my greatest regret that I was so selfish in my photography. Sure, part of it was the cost of film and developing, but overall, I cannot for the life of me figure out why I didn't give it more of a go. That said, why didn't I pursue drama/stage work more? Why didn't I keep doing A/V stuff,

Hi. \ Remember when we first got to DC and I literally walked into a random record store and got a job there? Nobody Beats The Wiz. That was the spot - an East Coast chain we had no real understanding of, but once I started there and found out it's NYC provenance it was a pretty insane place to be in 1989. I mention it, becausemy absolute favorite band discovery from that time, De La Soul (and, to be honest, I knew I dug them, but they have grown to be a solid touchstone for that specific time in my life) - and that first album, 3 Feet High and Rising, is the damn gold standard of hip hop for me but it hasn't been available to stream for any of the years streaming has been a thing. Sure, I think I may still have the cassette in that rubbermaid tub at my mom's house (or, it may be gone. i haven't seen those casettes in a while) but I have only been able to really hear those songs if John or someone plays them on KEXP, and I have sorely missed it. The good news is that th

Hey, I'm gonna do some more transcribing of stuff from letters I wrote to Karen from tour, and since they are really just unhinged conversational venting (the more I read through them as I get older, the more arrogant and inssufferable I realize I was (LOL, it's true now as it was then, I'm just less vengeful. But poor Karen - it's amazing she has stayed friends with me all these years; imagine reading this shit and not thinking: holy shit my friend is really an asshole) she is solid gold. So many parenthetical asides. LOL, again. Anyway, let's get into it: August 1992 Hey, it's me. And I'm currently trundling around rural France in a big red van. Neato. Not...we're on our way to Holland, 'cause the Agent86 luck, holding firm as always, finds us facing 12 days (underlined for effect) without shows. As usual, our French contacts blew it and this time it's us and Punishment Park who suffer. So who knows when I'll finally send this - it's

Hi again. So a little over 30 years ago, I wrote this to Karen, describing the gig in St. Medard with Tormentia: "So, our second show with Eric-the-Dick (he says everyone calls him that) was in a suburb of Bordeaux called Saint Medard. We're on a four band bill, the headliners were bumped so we would headline. It was in this massive community center/multipurpose room on a sort of community living area (some sort of experiemnt in socialsim, or something...). They were very specific about being there at 2pm to soundcheck, so of course Laurant had us out 'til 6am drinking and meeting the locals. The guy is like No Means No unchained!! So we get to the show, mucho grouchy, at about 3pm. Don't soundcheck 'til 6pm. Hang out. Meet the guys in Tormentia, a bunch of 118 and 19 year olds in a thrash metal band (think Metallica)The bass player, whose name I never mastered was a cute one. Great blue eyes, dark hair, very friendly (he was excited that "the American band&qu

Hey Mike. You've been on my mind a bunch the last few days. Our favorite Norwegian guitar player had reached out a few months ago, because he apparently is going to actually get his book published. As opposed to me, who has the one third of it she started 25 years ago safely stored on a floppy disc she has no idea how to ever retrieve the data from, and so I may fail to ever get a tangible telling of those prime Agent 86 hijinks out into the wild. I mean, the middle part was the most interesting part anyway, right? At any rate. Kjellykjellkjell had asked for photos from tour, and of course I put it off until he pestered me again and mentioned that if I got the photos to him we'd be "part of the history forever" and as I have been a shitty steward of Agent86 in those terms (wait...have I? I don't see anyone else trying to keep the dream alive: GL has long since moved on from all that ((and literally moved up here now)). Anyway, as I was rifiling through stuff to f

Hey. Per usual, this didn't take off as I had intended it, even though I potentially have more time to spend rambling than ever before, but am so consumed by malaise that it just sits here. Much like the broken filling in my mouth that needs to be fixed, but doesn't hurt - I just dick around with it from time to time, but never actually...nah, that's a terrible analogy. Who really needs an anology anyway? It is what it is: an underused blog. I can't get excited about day-to-day rambling like I used to. My opinion in general just seems pointless. After years of dreaming of having my own platform, and a couple of years of actually using some of them, now? Now it's just like water running in an open sink. A waste of resources. Of what little constructive thought I still have. My health is declining. I have all the signs of all the diseases. Heart attack, liver failure, brain tumor, cancer, all of them. If I see the other side of 58 it'll be a damn miracle. And wha

"It was just after dawn in Woody Creek, Colo., when the first plane hit the World Trade Center in New York City on Tuesday morning, and as usual I was writing about sports. But not for long. Football suddenly seemed irrelevant, compared to the scenes of destruction and utter devastation coming out of New York on TV. Gonzo himself, Hunter S. Thompson on the tragedy and it's implications...the link is at ESPN.com where he is a Page2 columnist: Even ESPN was broadcasting war news. It was the worst disaster in the history of the United States, including Pearl Harbor, the San Francisco earthquake and probably the Battle of Antietam in 1862, when 23,000 were slaughtered in one day. The Battle of the World Trade Center lasted about 99 minutes and cost 20,000 lives in two hours (according to unofficial estimates as of midnight Tuesday). The final numbers, including those from the supposedly impregnable Pentagon, across the Potomac River from Washington, likely will be higher. Anythi