Dear Mike

Hi. Just wanted to share that as I was listening to a Spotify mix of my favorite songs, "Was It Worth It?" played. Now it's not the version I played on (apparently none of those are online, which I assume I can thank Scott VR and GL for) but probably the version that is closest to the one on the cassette of the same name. I just wanna say Mike, in case I hadn't said it (though I'm pretty sure I have, more than once, and especially in those years with exSMRGE) I think it is your best written song, and I loved playing it so much. I think it still holds up (unfortuantely, given the subject matter - I wish I could say it isn't relevant because we haven't had a shooting like that in so very long, but nope, we had one yesterday in St Louis, and a school one in Nashville last week and...ect) and just a really great punk rock sound and a realy glimpse at what we should have been, had either of us been more focused. Ah well. Anyway, miss ya buddy, thanks for the me

Let's just get into it: Hola! It's me again - sorry to keep this constant barrage of mail but I'm SO LONELY!! Ack. It's the usual, and today (let's see, uh, Thursday, the 15th of...uhm, ah, yes: OCTOBER yay. On the autostrada from Rome to Foggia I'm bummin because I don't have enough energy to attempt to obtain a cup of coffee, and Adam has already shut down on us and his translating ability. So that's nice. Plus we're payin ghimt to treat us like shit this time, which makes Mike and I partucularily happy. It makes Rob nothing, 'cause he's just floating aimlessly now, sulking a lot more. Ah well. So I'm just watching the amazingly beautiful Italian (Adriatic) coast zip by. It's all so green and hilly, with these either sheer cliffs to the coast, or sort of a rolling hill that ends in a sandy beach with a fabulously blue ocean.But do we get to partake of any of it? Nah, we gotta go to Foggia to play another lame show I'm sure. Oh y

Honestly man, I don't even know what to say anymore. There's the part where I want to say that I have never, ever felt as physically horrible as I do currently. I dunno if it's the covid, the covid vax, general lack of taking care of myself, the steady march of time on my physical being matched by the psychic degredation that the entire world is experiencing or what, but damn, I am not digging anything right now. Except for the puggle of course, but dogs have always been the only reason to keep going to be honest. So, the grifting blowhard ex-president looks to be getting actually indicted, but honestly, to what end? I have literally given up any hope of Americans ever being capable of critical thinking on any sort of useful level. I suppose all the states have always passed (or not struck down, in the case of the wannabe confederate lunkheads) bullshit civil rights squashing legislation, but after Roe getting the national treatment, and weekly train wrecks that point direc

As the planet hurtles towards its demise, I grabbed a book from the library for the first time in ages - and it's a good one, though probably from a mental-health standpoint not the best? Anyway, it is Play Like a Man, by Rose from the Poster Children. I had a brief interaction with her in the late 90's ('97 or so?) when I was briefly seeing the former drummer of Steel Pole Bathtub, who they had toured with in Europe and she had written extensive tour diaries during. Because she was a computer-programming student, she was actually posting her diaries online on a listserv, which back then, was not something normal folks really did (god knows had I been able to focus and was aware enough to do that, shit would be different. But enough with imagining how my EEAAO selves are faring in the alternate universes) and she recently used those diaries as a base for a book about being a woman bass player in a punk rock band in not only the era I played & knew her in, but she's

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