On this day in 1977 - 4 July

[Jade was visiting from Texas and staying at my house. Our friends Mary, Helen (Killer) and Trudie were still in New York. Tiger was the name of my boyfriend. Apparently Backstage Pass played this night too, but we missed them. Did the Quick play too? They all seemed to be there...]

Today Jade and I went to the beach – nay! We ate at the block party – exciting! – and Jade had to explain punk rock to people.

I hope Tiger’s not mad that we didn’t stop by cuz we were late. But then Jerry [Satinsky - I think he was meant to get us in free] wasn’t even there! Jade didn’t want to go to the fireworks anyway, and I got mad. [Not sure what fireworks these were!]

So we got in [to the Starwood], and played pinball with Jerry. We both won once. Then Paul Hufsteter kept staring at me and I showed him my buttons, but that’s not what he was looking at – he goes, “You know you have a perfect figure – you really do…” Oh, won’t Killer be jealous!

Anyway I left Jerry there talking. Jade and I left. We went to Thrifty’s and they were out of film but I wouldn’t have been able to take pictures anyway. We walked by the Whiskey and the guy let us go in for a minute. You could even walk right backstage! We didn’t see anyone we knew though. 

So then we went to the Rainbow. Bootsie was there. They were playing boring disco music. Then they played “Walk This Way” and “Rip Her to Shreds.” We left, but saw Eric outside the Roxy, waiting to see Roy Ayers. We talked for a while – it’s weird – I haven’t talked that much to him for a long time! Mostly about music and punk rock being a joke and stuff. He didn’t try to kiss me or anything.

We stopped at 7-11 and got a Slurpee, which Jade drank most ofl. When we got back to the Starwood they were playing good stuff in the disco so we danced a while.

Now, this is what happened that really confused me. I was standing sorta by the pinball machines, and I saw Steven Hufsteter go by with his arm around this blond chick. And he looked back at me like “Hey, it’s you!” OK, so Jade and I went into the concert room. We passed him and the blond chick was introducing him to someone; I heard: “This is Steve.” Then there he was, by the stiars! How could he get there so fast?! There aren’t two of him! 

I was just thinking – MAYBE he hurried over there somehow, to see me. Cause anyway he goes, “How come you never say hi to me anymore?” and he was hanging onto me sort of, and he squeezed my hand. I just said, “I don’t know…” or something. He then goes, “We are still friends, aren’t we?” I just said, “I guess…”

So we went backstage for a bit. I asked Rodney, and Trudie had called his show. He goes, “You and I never did get together, did we? What can I say – I’d still like to!” YIKES! Thank God someone finally came up to talk to him!

So, the Screamers… We had to stand at the back of the balcony, but at least we weren’t squooshed. I somehow thought they’d be more “musical.” They did do “The Beat Goes On” but I couldn’t figure out what it was until it was halfway through. But Tomata is such a great performer! The place was packed. I was standing behind Danny W. and he said hi and stuff. I saw Steve way over there. 

So after a while I went backstage again, to sit down for a minute out of the crowd, and to find Jade, who had gone back there halfway through the first song! We talked to Paul’s mom. [That must have been Steve’s mom too!]

Then we watched the Screamers do the Magazine song (though Jade left after ten seconds). I thought this guy over there looked like Kyle but by the end of the song he had disappeared. A little while later I went in the other room to watch Danny Benair play pinball and there was Kyle! So I talked to him a while. He does like disco now but not the really bad kind. His hair is longer and he really looks good now.

I told him that we were gonna play at the Whiskey that night [This would have been my band The Bromos, but I have no memory of this!] but we couldn’t find a drummer and he goes, “You should have called me!” I said that I did! He said he’d like to do it in September.

Steven T. came up and Kyle introduced us, and even though Kyle told me before that he was a Todd freak, I never could stand him. Well, I remember what Brent had said – he’s so dumb! Anyway, he says, “Come here,” and asks if I like Todd and stuff. So then he goes, “So I like Todd and you like Todd – let’s go fuck!” Fuck HIM! He kept bugging me and I said I had a boyfriend and he said he had never heard of him and he’s not here anyway. He kept saying he was better than Todd.

He complained to Kyle that I wouldn’t fuck him and then he gave up, thank God. Kyle jokingly asked me why I wouldn’t and I said, “I don’t like blonds.” Then I said I also didn’t like obnoxious and forward guys and mosst of all, I don’t like HIM in the first place! Then we had to leave.

On this day in 1976 - 20 February

I have been wearing contact lenses for exactly 42 years! The first pair I got were hard, and will forever remind me of Roxy Music, as I used to use the cover of Siren to rest my case on, along with the little suction cup you could use to pick up a dropped lens. This was the first and only time I saw Roxy Music, and I don't believe I even mention their name in the whole entry!

This was also the first and only time I went to Gino's nightclub; I don't even remember where it was! And I never saw that Glenn again! Wonder if Helen still has his number...

20 February 1976

Today Trudie started at our school. She couldn’t get in any of my classes! I stayed in Modern Dance 3rd and 4th to hear Tandy and Co. talk. That Dancy Dance phrase was fun and a lot easier than the stuff we learn in class!

I went to the eye doctor and got my contact lenses. It’s so weird being able to see without glasses! We went over to Mary’s and we didn’t leave for the Palladium for so long! Oh well, I didn’t want to see Flash Cadillac anyway. I didn’t see Eddie [Driscoll; he was everywhere!] there! Hardly saw anyone I knew. That guy with the super freaky hair from Alex Harvey was there and his jacket said MARS on the back. Then there was that guy who looked like Peter Frampton- what a FOX! I tried to take his pic. Saw Brent and Laura inside – Brent looked so neat – like Russell Mael sort of.

Trudie was wearing that shirt as a dress – I wish I could wear stuff like that. [Well, I later did!] Saw Kari, Hernando and Rodney too and took their pictures. That was sure nice how Mary, Trudie and Helen left us. Susan went to the back. I got pretty close to where Eddie [Jobson, on stage] was. Hope my pictures come out decently – I wonder which one broke. [???]

That was so dumb – afterward that guy showed me how I should have taken pictures! (Takes kidneys!) [I’m not sure what I’m on about here, I mean about how I should have taken pictures – pushing the film is my best guess.] I thought that one guy was really nice letting me go in front of him… but… well, he left me alone after I hit him once. [METOO alert!] Near the end I got really close. They started with Sentimental Fool, and of what I know the titles of that they did included: Love is the Drug, Whirlwind, She Sells, Both Ends Burning, Virginia Plain, For Your Pleasure… I forgot what the encore was. Eddie (sigh…) had a violin solo. He kept looking in the audience and smiling – people passed him up notes! He was dressed so neat in white tails. Bryan Ferry looked scuzzy. Clark Gable?!

Afterward, Rich [Susan Richards] and I went looking for people we knew. That Todd guy was soooo skinny! [I think that must have been Stewart who used to hang out at the Rainbow.] And we saw a Steve Tyler lookalike.

[I then waffle on for far too long about a brief encounter with my ex who had dumped me the month before. He was as full of charm as ever, which is to say utterly without the same, but I do come over all sentimental and wonder what it would have been like to have attended this concert with him, which, until last month, I had thought would happen. (He had managed to wrangle his way in free, as he often did.)]

I wanted to go to the Rainbow so bad but I’m glad I didn’t go with Robert [the ex mentioned above] cause it was $5 for one thing (which he wouldn’t pay) and I wouldn’t have met Glenn!!!! Glenn was so neat! He looked a lot like Eddie Jobson, was a little bit short, dressed neat and was so funny!!

He had to be introduced all around. I told him I was Mar Tian and he goes, “All right, Marsha…” “No! Mar TIAN – like with the antennas?” “Oh…” “I’m also known at times as Chandrika Zolar or Desdemona Luna, but most people call me Karen.” “Sounds like Carrot – so you’re Karen the Carrot.” (Later he introduced us to his friend as Karen the Carrot, Susan the Rich etc… Oh and he couldn’t remember Mary’s name – I go, “She has a little lamb.” “Does it lie down on Broadway?” “No, but its fleece is white as snow.” “It wouldn’t by any chance follow her to school?” “Also, she is quite contrary.”

At first he was talking mostly to Helen and Trudie but they were talking to the surfer geeks so then I was talking to him – he’s sooo neat! He had a candy apple [They used to always sell candy apples after gigs!] he didn’t want to finish so he goes, “Where should I throw it?” “In the street.” So he tosses it there… “Do you think anyone saw me?” “Yeah.” “Who?” “Me.” “But you wouldn’t tell on me, would you?” “Hmmm… No, I won’t…”

We started talking about Genesis a little. He told Helen to call him. Well, she can’t have him – he’s mine! I’m inviting him to my party, both Roberts, Ben, Bill Harris, Patrick, Chris… EVERYONE I like (so I’ll be sure not to lose!!!)

Anyway we went to Gino’s – bleccch. They played the crappiest music in the world! I didn’t want to go in. I waited outside with Rich then Trudie came out and we went to Bob’s Big Boy and Mary came too. We were acting so weird, throwing pancakes and stuff. When we came back out it was freezing!!

At Mary’s house in the driveway Helen ran over Mary’s shoe that she had dropped on the ground!!! We couldn’t stop laughing! We stayed up for this dumb movie at 4:00 am then fell asleep during it.

On this day in 1975 - 9 & 10 November

Sparks were doing two nights at the Santa Monica Civic, and I had to get decent seats, as my friend Dan and I got thrown out on our asses for lighting sparklers and running down the aisle with them as the band came out in May of that year. I got back in but he didn't. Our older friend, Brent Williams, offered to drive Mary, Trudie and me down to the Civic in the wee hours, and arranged for us to crash beforehand at Patrick Warren's place. Patrick was a professional musician who had also graduated the year before and I didn't know him that well but, as an aspiring keyboardist, I was in awe of him. I don't believe I saw him again in person until the mid 00s when he turned up playing keyboards for my friend Jim White.

Of course my parents would never have allowed this, so I had to pretend that I was staying at Mary's house, and she at mine, and Brent wrote my absent note to the school as my father. (From this point on my new dad took on this role a LOT.)

I have no idea who this Graham person was or what happened to him, though I seem to remember last seeing him at a Roxy Music gig where he told me he was a Gemini.

9 November

I couldn't believe it when Mom let me stay overnight at Mary's. Mary told her mom she was staying at mine. We went over to Kristi's to get her [ticket] $$, then Brent and Trudie picked us up and we went to Jade's. She had got her hair cut into a Bowie. When we left hers, Brent drove around her lawn twice - it was so funny!

We went to Patrick's. Never thought I'd be spending the night at his house! Trudie and I slept on the couch and Mary the floor. In the middle of the nite Trudie goes, "Don't! Please stop!!" I go, "What?!" and she goes,"Leave my hair alone! Leave it alone!!" So then I ask, "Are you asleep?" and she goes, "No!" But she was.

10 November

I saw Patrick get up and eat but I didn't say anything to him. Later I looked at the music on his piano and he had transcribed the music for "Firth of Forth." Brent was supposed to pick us up before 5:00 but he didn't come till 7:00! I was almost sure we were gonna have to go to school!

So we got to the Civic and who do we see but Bill Fucile! [He went to our school and in later years hung out at the Masque; sadly died in the 80s.] Mary and I went to Sambo's. I got in a fight with Trudie about taking cuts. [But at least I wasn't cutting her hair!] Dawn and Sharon came [two friends who went to the "alternative" high school] and I'd saved them a place. I fell in love three times and #3 was Graham. We were talking to his friends and they told him I wanted to take his pic but I didn't. I thought Graham looked so neat though with that scarf and everything. He was going to Sparks both nites and to 10CC too. I didn't see anyone I knew in line. That was weird - no one asked for the orchestra pit! [That was the Holy Grail and what we got!]

After we got the tickets we had to take Warren and that girl to court and it took so long and was so boring. I got really pissed. [Annoyed, not drunk!] Then we had to watch that Bill Cosby/Raquel Welch movie. [I think we went to Brent's house; he still lived at home so that's why we couldn't have stayed there last night.] I thought it was so boring! [Funny, if you had asked me yesterday had I ever seen Mother, Jugs and Speed, I would have told you no...] But I got to school in time for swimming. [My last class; my mom might have been picking me up from school that day.] Kristin [my sister] was suspicious for a while but Mom never found out; they goofed on my report card. I'm so glad.

Later Brent came over with Ronda (who was sick) to write my sick note. He said he wasn't gonna go to the taping of Don Kirshner's Rock Concert with Alex Harvey, but later I found out he did - without US! Grr...

Remembering 7/7 on its tenth anniversary

Ten years ago today was on my mind all day.

I wrote the following as an email to friends outside of London, and a year later, posted it as my first blog entry on MySpace. When MySpace went down the tubes I managed to harvest my blogs, and meant to repost this here. Well, I am finally getting round to it.

In 2007 I moved into the flat where I had been staying that day in 2005, and during my more than five years in that neighbourhood, I don't know how many times I rode the no. 30 bus, or walked by or came out of the part of Liverpool Station that had been hit.

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I was separated from my laptop, as well as (fountain!) pen and paper on the 7th, and I wrote the following a couple days later. I was a bit annoyed that I had forgotten some of the details I'd written in my head, and worried that the tone might be a bit bloggy; it's certainly not investigative journalism! I don't know anyone directly involved and did not seek anyone out who was, but anyway, I write so many things that I never finish so for once I'm sending something out anyway.

7.7: Okay, this is what it was like. I had been here four days but my jet lag's worse than ever. I'm sleeping on the famous crash couch in Liz's flat in Highbury. It's ten something in the morning and Liz comes in; she should be at work. She had gone to the bus stop but no bus ever came, and finally she learned what had gone down: eight tube stations bombed as well as the no. 30 bus.

(Yes, it wasn't eight, it was three, but in the first hours the news was very fuzzy.) Liz makes coffee and turns on the TV, News 24, and we're both glad we're not watching American news, with its constant commentary - theories, opinions, wafflers waffling on just to hear the sound of their own self-beloved voices. Mikes thrust down the gob of someone whose house just burned down - "So, how do you FEEL?"

Getting back to the point... Nothing much unfolds for a while and we stare at the gogglebox, transfixed. Liz walks to work in Clerkenwell, reports later that the streets were eerily deserted and that people stared suspiciously down at her from windows above.

I watch and I watch. Even watch the Shrub, who reminds me of a braindead tin soldier with his arms held rigidly out from his sides, and marvel at the fact that no grammatical errors emerge in his speech, or maybe my brain's on holiday and I'm not really listening, still thinking of his pal the panic-stricken (B)Liar's shell-shocked face.

Or maybe my brain is feeling guilty 'cause all the misspellt words on the crawling text are bugging me - Edgeware Road (it's Edgware!!), Oldgate for Aldgate...

The rumours start flying later, but only outside the TV news world; although the Beeb showed that map with the excess burning stations, they are cautious only to report the facts. Liz rings, says she heard that it was suicide bombers, jumping in front of trains; then she heard that the bombers escaped and that the bombs were set off by mobile phones. My mobile doesn't work on the Underground, even the shallow lines, so how could that be possible? Never mind, it all ain't true.

So. I'm stranded. Yesterday I took all my stuff to my new digs, then went back into town and crashed back at Liz's on the aforementioned couch after a late night drinking sesh - a lock-in at the Wenlock Arms, and there's no way to get back to Edmonton, where my stuff is. It's way way out there in the part of North London best avoided. I realise I need money and must get to the bank before it shuts as I have misplaced my cash card. (Days later, as ever, I find it exactly five minutes after the replacement card arrives in the post.) The bank is way down at the other end of Upper Street, so I hurry out.

We're not very far from two of the bomb sites and I expect to find all doom and gloom, but first of all it's a glorious day. It had been raining earlier but now the sky is blue, the air is washed and clean, the sun is shining but very gently, hardly ever had I seen such perfect weather. Everyone is smiling. Phoning people, saying, "It was just a matter of time." "I'm all right." Laughing about having to walk or being stranded. Smiling at passers-by, saying hello - now this is WEIRD! This is just not done in London. I overtake some Yank tourists who are walking too slowly and they apologise to me.

People are sitting in the outdoor cafes. The only things I see that are closed are one clothes shop, one betting shop (though a sign in the window assures customers that a branch not far away remains open) and all three branches of Starbucks have closed down early. (Perhaps the management were worried they might have to dole out some free water at some point.) And my bank. And just half an hour early, the bastards!

So I wander into Sainsbury's, where, even though there are the longest waits I'd ever seen at the checkouts (announcements over the Tannoy keep apologising for this), everyone remains happy and smiling. A woman, who was balancing her basket precariously atop one of those old lady shopping wheely things, sees the contents crash to the floor and immediately a dozen people surround her, picking up eggshells and cheese puffs, and others rally to find her replacement items (which she puts in her basket in the same dangerous position, forcing one of the good Samaritans to end up holding it for her). I'd never seen behaviour like this in London. Maybe oop north, where they'd probably be brewing oop a cooppa for the old dear and force-feeding some Tunnock's teacakes down her gullet too, but London?? As Pokey once said to Gumby (I had to stick a incomprehensible to non-Yanks reference in amidst all these Britishisms): "Weird, man, weird!"

Well, someone's not a happy camper. Way over on the other side of the store there's a lot of shouting, and some kind of security person was summoned to expel the culprit, but we (I say "we" because the people in my queue take turns to go over and try to find out what's going on but no-one has any success - it's a big store and difficult to get close or to see past the crowds at the tills) never manage to find out what the deal was.

Then, weirder still, the woman at the till chats to me, just like we were up north and this sort of thing is normal! About the weather, about the crowds of people stocking up with food, what time she started work and how she was getting home etc. This is getting to be very strange.

Now I'm hungry and I'm still cashless and living on plastic so I head for Pasha on the way back, but we're in the in-between hours when they have their doors open but they aren't serving any food, so it's La Petite Auberge; at first I'm the sole customer but it soon fills up with stranded folk; one man wants a table with enough light to read the paper and I've got the "Stan-dud" too - the only London paper is an evening one and aren't they happy about that! The morning rags with their blazing "We've Got the Olympics!" headlines now looked forlorn.

My phone keeps beeping with text messages; I go back to Liz's and ring my mother as she (Liz) had urged me to; she had only just heard the news. But had not thought of phoning me The buses are running and I go out to wait for one to Clerkenwell, but after half an hour I walk halfway. When one comes and I try to pay the fare the driver tells me buses are free "because of the troubles". (What - are we in Ulster?) I probably could have got all the way back to Edmonton now, but I don't feel much like being alone. Especially in those ultra dreary digs.

So I meet Liz and Sergio, who had walked from his work in Paddington to Clerkenwell - took two hours - in the pub next to Liz's office, and then we get a cab back to the Wenlock Arms in Hoxton. The cab driver is all chatty too, telling us how hungry he is - heading for McDonald's soon - and about deserted streets he had gone through a bit earlier. The streets are still unusually empty for this part of town. But in the Wenlock all is normal. It's quiz night, and nice to do something so normal and mundane. We come in fourth, pints all round.

14 July

Everyone has been full of "what if's", and all the newspaper columnists have written about the strange few days in which Londoners spoke to one another. That has pretty much passed and things are back to normal, although the tubes are less crowded and the buses more crowded. The other night I spoke to Vivianne in Leeds, who said she was glad she wasn't in London, and the next morning my old hometown was all over the news. Beeston, where I worked the (not so) better part of a year, and then Burley, the Hyde Park scrag end of Burley, and there's a TV reporter standing at the top of Vivianne's street!

Vivianne was returning from the shop when she was stopped and her house keys confiscated. The cops knocked on the door where Steve was working on the computer (in his underwear as it was quite hot); he was told he had 30 seconds to evacuate the premises; was allowed to get a pair of jeans but not to fetch his mobile phone or to take his car (finally, about seven hours later after several refusals, a cop drove it out for him.)

They were not allowed back for 48 hours and several hundred others were evacuated as well. If you had nowhere to go they put you up at the leisure centre (what fun), where apparently the old fossils - I mean dears - relived the war and sang songs throughout the night. Steve was interviewed by the local TV news (but naturally did not get to see it) and I should really do a proper interview with him as he made the story sound much more interesting when he told it to me than what I've just written here. But having spent many many nights in that house and neighbourhood (I lived round the corner) I wish I could have seen the faces of some of the white trash criminal neighbours (it's the kinda place where a two-year-old's first words are "fuck off!") being evacuated - wonder how they managed to get - and keep - them all out! I bet there was a lot of toilet flushing in those last few minutes ...

The bomb factory flat, which is just over the road, is one that belongs to Leeds Fed, the housing association for which I once worked. I'd also love to see that application form!

30 July

Arrests, stand-offs, shootings and of course the botched attempts by the Keystone* bombers on the 21st; this is said to have made both residents and visitors alike much more fearful, but not yours truly. Cops everywhere, everyone peering about, looking at one another with suspicion. and the tubes are still nicely uncrowded. The other night I had a train car to myself, and it wasn't even an odd time (it was about 8:45 pm) or a remote area (it was fairly central and a main line), and I noticed a carrier bag abandoned near one of the doors. I didn't investigate and it looked like it contained only an Evening Standard, but the deal is, you are meant to report ANYTHING unattended - so did I? Naah, I was getting off the train at the next stop anyhow.

*(credit - Richard R.)

And yesterday I was going to work from my new digs in Tulse Hill - yeah, commuting! - and as I got on the No. 2 bus I realised I was taking the same route at the same time on the same day of the week as Jean Charles de Menezes. There's a big tribute outside Stockwell Station and the questions are still buzzing (police still have not explained why someone they were convinced was a bomber was allowed to board a bus, or why he was not detained before entering the tube station - it's quite a long way from the bus stop to the station entrance and plenty of room for manoeuvering out on the sidewalk) and everyone I know is wondering why people are so accepting of this, and our mayor Ken is wobbling like a weeble, first alienating himself from Noo Labour (but endearing himself to us) by "mentioning the war", then defending the shoot-to-kill cops and passing the buck.

And that's that.

e/k/w

On that day in 1977 - 31 October

About time I resumed this thing! I had just moved into the Tiger den on La Cienega. Trudie, Helen and Mary had apartment-sat (or office-sat? Tiger's apartment was actually a unit in an office building) for Tiger over the summer and after that had cobbled together some money to get their own place in West Hollywood, the Plunger Pit near the Starwood. The year before, Jerry Satinsky had taken some photos of them holding plungers, and they were thereafter known as The Plungers. However, just to confuse you, Jerry called us all "the weirdos" - not to be confused with the group of that name - and I will retain my references from the time.

I can't remember if the Mumps/Devo gig was at the Whisky or Starwood; perhaps the latter? For a while I was automatically always on Devo's guest list. And Rodney DJ'd at the Starwood; not that he didn't go to most shows at the Whisky too.

The "giant guy" who won the Halloween costume was a 7-foot aspiring actor, Carel Struycken, who later turned up playing the Giant on Twin Peaks: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Carel_Struycken.

Shame about my cleaned-out purse; I was thinking I probably wouldn't have had more than a couple bucks at any one time in those days but since I said "all my money", maybe I lost the $20!

31 October 1977

Well, today after classes I went home. And they [the 'rents] were really nice to me and gave me $20. I stayed for dinner but then I had to go back. And I was so homesick and stuff I started crying on the way back, how embarrassing.

I didn't know what to be for Halloween so I put on that black dress and went to the weirdoes'. Trudie was gonna wear these red pajamas but she decided not to so I wore them. Took them long enough to get ready and we missed the first band!

Soo Catwoman/vampire Helen, me in Trixie's PJs, Trudie as Vampira in the Plunger Pit

The Mumps were great!!!! They all wore masks and stuff and Lance wore orange and black, a shirt with a Jack-o-lantern with a safety pin through his nose. Oh, but first he came out and did the first song with a sheet on!

Devo - it was so crowded I could hardly see. I saw their film though and it was FANTASTIC!

Oh, I'd thought that Rodney had forgotten who I was, but no such luck. This night he remembered. And - I'm sure! - tried to talk me into ditching my boyfriend and moving in with him! He said he'd support me and I could be the cohost of his show - oh sure! Barf barf barf!!!

What else happened that night... Well, everyone went upstairs and left me down there alone. and they had a costume contest and I think Rod should have won but he was booed offstage!!! But it was neat that the giant guy won... He wasn't even wearing a costume!

The costume that should have won was booed offstage! Mary as Twiggy on the right.

Afterward the weirdoes had a party again but I only stayed for a few minutes. Till I found who had my purse - took long enough - and then all my money was stolen.

Africa Part One

MySpace removed my old blogs so I am moving them here. This was the beginning of my write-up on my first trip to Africa in 2004. Here's part one; two to follow soon, and then maybe I'll somehow attempt to finish it... (I never did, and it's been nearly ten years!)


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Sunday, 18 July: Nairobi

Two days of air travel (Note to self: never do two overnight flights in a row again) and endless waiting but I'm finally in Africa. For those of you who aren't aware, my brother, Kurt, lived in Kenya for a year in the mid 80s (attending the University of Nairobi) and Tanzania for two years in the late 80s (in the Peace Corps and working in Jane Goodall's headquarters), then in the 90s he started leading wildlife safaris in East Africa every year or two. I housesat for him in the desert (because I couldn't afford to go) during the previous two in '99 and '00, and then the following year, slaving away at (No)Futurekids, I finally saved enough money to go, but for various reasons "Baobob V" was postponed until this year.

With twenty in all, this is Kurt's largest group ever, and always on the lookout for new recruits, he has persuaded Helen, our 84-year-old "fake relative" (she's a friend of the family, she grew up next door to my mother with no living relatives left on the planet) to be my "roommate", warning me with a slight smirk that Helen's memory ain't what it used to be. (The thing is, it never was what it used to be; she's one of those people who, although kind-hearted and well-meaning, constantly asks you loads of questions yet dizzily, never pays attention to the answers.) I am happy not to pay a single supplement and decide not to worry.

Helen flew on her own from Phoenix and joins our flight from London to Nairobi. As we get off this second overnight flight, Helen requests a wheelchair as she is feeling rough. This turns out to be a plus for Candice (my brother's girlfriend) and me: we push the chair and get to breeze through Immigration with no waiting.

It's early in the morning and here we are at our luxury hotel (I'm not really expecting this and I'm not accustomed to places that give you bathrobes and slippers) on a hill above the city, the Nairobi Serena. Helen dons the dressing gown and crashes as soon as we're shown into the room and I struggle to stay awake. After channel surfing (the only local television channel seems to be an East African MTV with a lot of tedious booty-shakin going on, and there seems to be a very wide range of trashy American "Lifetime television for women" biopics (inside joke to those who know him: no Ramsay sightings unfortunately) available at all hours) and sitting in the Jacuzzi for a while (it's way too cold to go swimming), I end up guzzling coffee at the poolside bar, mildly pestered by a sunburnt builder from Reading (his hols: a two-day "Big 5" type safari followed by a fortnight on the beach at Mombasa) who accuses me of being unfriendly because I'm trying to read my book. (He shuts up when I tell him I'm hoping to see some bats, probably thinks I'm some kind of goth freak.)

Finally it's 2 PM and five of us are taken to the Nairobi National Museum. It's adjacent to Nairobi Snake Park! We must go in. I believe we're the only tourists in there. Relieved to see that there are large enclosures in this vivarium/aquarium, though it could do with more frequent cleaning - we see some quite enormous boa turds.

The museum is wonderful and although it's much bigger, it brings to mind the sorely missed (at least by me) Leeds City Museum (which also had a very small vivarium/aquarium, wonder what happened to those mud puppies!), as well as the very Victorian Dublin Natural History Museum. I'm drawn to the Leakey skulls (Homo Habilis!!), although the hall of dead birds was very useful for future identification, and the hall with local art was amazing.

We stop off for a drink on the veranda of the Norfolk Hotel (Nairobi's oldest), where I have my first Tusker lager.


Dinner that evening at the hotel restaurant is a four-course affair, the first of many. Helen has slept through it, and consequently is up all night, noisily pottering about.

Monday, 19 July: Nairobi

Helen finally emerges from the room for breakfast. She decides not to go on our first game drive however, saying she plans to spend the day sitting by the pool. At any rate there is more room for the five of us in our pop-top minivan.

We have about a half hour wait outside the gates of Nairobi National Park, and are encouraged, for the first of many times, to visit the gift shop. I ask if I can go into the Animal Orphanage instead, and they arrange for us all to go in. (Note: Richard Leakey was once head of the orphanage, and this is where Jane Goodall worked when she first came to Africa.) This is not something they normally do so everyone is quite pleased that I suggested it, as we get to frolic with cheetah and lion cubs.

The cheetahs are teenagers, about the size of a German Shepherd (though more the shape of a greyhound of course), and they purr as you scratch them under the chin and like to lick your face.
The lion cubs are much younger and play roughly just like kittens: climbing up your leg, grabbing your arm and sinking claws and teeth into it - only they're about twenty times the size of kittens with a corresponding twenty times larger teeth and claws. I manage to disentangle myself and merely receive a surface scratch but poor Sandy's leg is kind of a bloody mess, requiring an application of iodine.

Not as exciting, but still very cute, here's a dik dik:

Nairobi Park is a good introduction to African game drives as it encompasses so much in such a small area; beyond every corner is a different kind of terrain, from forest and bush to swamp and savannah. At certain points you can see the skyscrapers of Nairobi behind herds of giraffe. Giraffes are everywhere; we drive ten feet past the gates and about a dozen are blocking the road.







No big cats or elephants yet, but we also see zebras, impalas, gazelles, bushbucks, elands, hartebeests, wildebeests, buffalo, vervet monkeys, warthogs and loads of birds.





I have an eye to eye brief encounter with a malachite kingfisher, who flies away as soon as I notify others of his presence.

Lunch is at a restaurant called the Verandah, owned by an American woman. It's very nice and I'm relieved that we didn't have to dine at the Carnivore Restaurant (with a selection of "bush meat") up the road.


Afterward we visit the Langata Giraffe Centre. It houses three tame Rothschild's giraffes which you may feed:



you climb up a tower in order to reach the level of their mouths and they'll take the food, which is like rather large rabbit pellets, off your hand or out of your mouth (several young boys get very into this!)



A giraffe tongue is quite soft but not wanting to get covered in giraffe spittle, I mostly toss the pellets as one would toss fish to a seal.



They're greedy buggers too! Way down below, some warthogs are eating the pellets that have fallen on the ground, but there aren't many of those.

Apparently for some extortionate sum you may stay in the giraffe towers on the premises, and they, the giraffes that is, will stick their heads in and wake you up in the morning. I'm sure if they were given free rein they'd be happy to wake you up in the middle of the night too!

Next we travel to the district of Karen and visit Karin Blixen's house and museum. All I remember about Out of Africa is that I wasn't impressed by her taste in men - going for those macho big game hunters. I guess she did a lot for the locals, or at least gave them work on her plantation, but she actually only lived in Africa for fourteen years or so. You'd think if you thought of somewhere as your spiritual home and had nice digs (as this house was, and what a view too!),



that you would want to spend the rest of your days there, but no, she went back to dreary Denmark and never returned to Africa! Not once!! In Denmark she died of malnutrition. I reckon she wasn't getting enough fresh vegetables. But back to that fourteen years thing - I lived that long in Leeds! Will Meryl Streep play me someday in Out of Headingley, working the door at the Warehouse (turning away cranky ligging journalists who want us to subsidize their dates), buying cheese & onion pasties at Stanley's Bakery, doling out cash advances on wages to stage crew at the Playhouse, riding my bike across Woodhouse Moor and driving Bob (my old Mini) through the dales? Will the "district" of Hyde Park be renamed in honour of me? Only time will tell.

Back at the hotel we learn that Helen called for a doctor and was later taken to Nairobi Hospital! I won't go into the details but it wasn't anything life threatening. Okay, she was just a little stopped up, if you get my drift. Kurt goes to fetch her and later all is well; he says she's fine to travel tomorrow though she seems a little cranky. Again she's up all night so again my slumber is disturbed.

On this day in 1978 - April 1st

The Quick were my favorite local band in the mid 70s; they had a party for their fan club members at which they played their final show. The set list was determined by fans' votes too.

They had played their first or second ever show in Mary's living room (her mom was away) two years earlier; this had been arranged by their manager, Kim Fowley and I had missed it as it was spring break and I was on a family vacation. But I had seen just about every Quick show since then, at least all the ones in So. Cal.

1 April 1978

I waited for Gary [Tonda, my latest flame] to call - he never did. So I went to the Quick's party with Ava and Cathy. Ava had been worried that I was going to go off and leave her on her own at the party - hardy har har!!! She went straight from Davy to Ian to Mark Hammill [Yes, Luke Skywalker had gone to school with some of the Quick], with some other dork in between!

The party was really boring at first. Then the Quick played - that was great! I couldn't believe how many of the winning songs I had voted for! It was good hearing the older songs but they sure didn't do them too well... Danny had to read the words! He joked: "This is the last time we're gonna play; we're breaking up after tonight..." and everyone was saying, "Oh sure..." Little did they (or Danny?) know it was no April Fool's joke but the TRUTH! [I wrote  this account a few weeks later.]

They really hammed it up... Rolling on the floor and everything. Mark Hammill (what a geek) ran in in front of everyone like he's a hero or something. And I think it was the first and only time I ever saw the Quick NOT do Over the Rainbow!! (And it even came in top of the poll!)

Afterward it was pretty boring till I discovered all the food and free beer and Coke. The cookies Ian's mom had made were great. By now Ava was trying to pick up on Mark Hammill (barf!) who had a pretzel hanging from his nose and kept going, "Pretzel rock! Pretzel rock!" Yuk!

Ian was messing around on the piano playing cocktail music so I took a styrofoam cup and stuck a dollar in it... But I didn't really wanna give it to him [stingy bitch that I was!] so I took it back when he wasn't looking... Later he had a tizz: "Where's my dollar?! Karen put a dollar in there!!"

Then Cat told me to play something... So I began playing my latest song with the Todd-like progression and Danny said, "Who wrote that?!" He kept making me play it over and over then asked me to play something else, so I started to play "Too Late '68" but he stopped me cause it was time to go and he wanted to hear the first one again, though he said that both of them were good and he could tell I was influenced by Eno, just like him. He and Ian kept raving about the new song though and asked if they could use it. [But then the Quick broke up and Danny went on to co-write the Friends theme song...]

Mark Hammill still had a pretzel in his nose when he left.

On this day in 1977 - April 1st

Ratso is Mary Rat; Killer is Hellin Killer, and Tiger is Steve Tigerman.

I had a pair of pet rats, Bromo and Alka, who had a few litters. (They were in seperate cages but kept escaping.) I found homes for most of them but had to give or sell several to pet shops.

I have absolutely no idea where this POP! gig was. It must have been in the South Bay but it could not have been the Smokestack (later called the Fleetwood) as they didn't have two rooms where bands played; did that place on Redondo Pier?

1 April 1977

I set my alarm and put the phone by my bed... Trudie called at 8:00 and said she would take a bus and be there at 11:30. But they woke me up when they all came at 10:00, Trudie, Ratso and Killer. We took my rats. That one does look like Johnny Rotten! There were six boys and two girls. I gave five to the pet shop. They have some monster rats!

We picked up Tiger and went to Hollywood Boulevard but first we had a big fight about going to Todd's old house. [In the Hollywood hills - I just wanted to see it!] I got super pissed that Tiger and Killer came, cause Trudie said she didn't mind going. I finally found that book! [No idea what this book was...] We got mad at Tiger cause he was being impatient. Then we had to go to the sex shop [jewelry for Killer] and the Aardvark [used clothes]. Then Tiger went to school [UCLA] and we ate his Top Ramen [presumably at his place on La Cienega] and we went home and got in a gigantic traffic jam.

So Killer got in trouble and almost couldn't go out that night. Trudie stayed here and we called Furruzie [Peter Furru]. His sister [Teddi] said he was sick and couldn't go to Pop! Then later Robert Marlow (who wanted us to give him a ride to the Santa Monica Civic - I'm sure!!!!) said Peter was having a party! That asshole liar!!!

So anyway Killer came and I had to go get Ratso, and in a while we went. There were SO MANY SURFERS!!! I never saw such a surfed-out place!! They were all saying stuff like: HollyWEIRD!, Hollywood Swinging! Motorcycle Mamas! Da FONZ (???!!!!) and junk, and they would shove their friends into us and ask where we came from and touch us. GEEKS!!!! They asked Ratso if she had a knife - some surfers said we had been threatening them!!!!

We had to wait in this long line and when we got up there they said there was no guest list. So Trudie and Helen paid, and Ratso was going to but I didn't have any $$. [Like usual...] I didn't want to borrow any from Killer. Finally the guards said, "You're holding up the line! Just go on in..." So we got in free!

DD [Faye], Audrey [Pavia] and Don [Waller] came. POP! were going to be playing in this almost empty room and we went to the bathroom.

I came out and told Roger [from POP!] what had happened and he tried to get Trudie and Killer their money back but they never did. Then all these geek surfers started dancing to POP! And they did all these cover versions. At least they were slightly original cover versions, even Get Off of my Cloud and Under My Thumb. But they didn't do them very well. They played so long. About five sets with 15 minute breaks. I got so tired (and thirsty!!!) so fast and Trudie got mad cause she wanted to have a spaz and we were all falling asleep! I didn't even know who the band in the other room was. That room was twice as big, twice as crowded and twice as hot. I would have been super pissed if I had paid!

When Ratso and I walked to the car some surfer pinched her butt and she said, "Fuck you!" and they started making noises and I imitated them and said all this junk like "Catch a wave, man!", "Later toad!" etc. When Trudie came she was yelling "Fuck you, surfers!" out the window and "Surf out!" and stuff and they all flipped us off.

On this day in 1976 - April 1st

After a little break (seven months! I don't know what happened...) I return with an entry that has the potential of being even more embarrassing were I to reveal the band I was trying to see. (I only figured it out from references in previous entries.)

I had seen this English band the year before at the Santa Monica Civic with Jade; I think her step-father drove us. But since then I had started taking the bus to Santa Monica after school when there was a show, so I could hang out on the lawn beforehand, to meet the bands or people I had met at other gigs. I got the bus this time with Susan Richards.

Someone, I think Danny Benair, told me that you often could get the best seats - orchestra pit - if you waited in line for the box office to open just before the show. This worked a couple of times but not tonight! So we got the bus home as well.

April 1

Fortunately Susan got home just in time. Bill Wood was there so I talked to him. [No idea who this person was!] Then I was talking about Sparks and stuff to a lot of people. We were in line from 5:30 till 7:30, and were the second people in line but there were no tickets! We found a couple of scalpers with them but $15 each????!!! [Tickets for the Civic that year would have run from $3.50 to $5.50, maybe $6.50, so 15 bucks was a lot!]

I was looking and waiting for Robert [Williams, my objet de crush] and then I saw him inside! He was facing the other way though and I ran around to the other side and he disappeared. I kept running around - finally he was near the door but facing the other way but this guy got his attention and he came out to talk to me. He said to stick around, he was sure I'd get a ticket... He burped ... I said I liked his shirt but that it wasn't worth $30 and he got mad. He squeezed my hand then he blew a kiss as he went back inside.

We heard them do "School", then went home. That bus driver was totally loony! Coasting, putting his feet up, those looks, the way he talked, waiting at lights... WEIRD!!!

On that day in 1978 - 27 July

Mick, my pen pal in Liverpool

I was at the Grange Hotel in Liverpool. Two days before this I had taken a train up north to meet my pen pal Mick. He was the spitting image of a young Keith Richards.

He lived at home in the suburb of Allerton, and his parents thought their house was too small for a house guest (though I later stayed there for a couple more weeks) so had booked me into a hotel for five nights. This place bore somewhat of a resemblance to Fawlty Towers.

Mick did not know my real name so I had been booked in as Kari Bromo; hence the "Miss Bromo" references, which usually made me giggle.

I must admit, I probably wasn't their typical sort of guest and they must have thought I kept weird hours but jeez! I should have made my own Do Not Disturb sign!

I have driven by the hotel a few times in the years since and used to see it on Internet listings when I was looking for accommodation for my ex boss, but I just learned that the Grange Hotel has now closed down. Good riddance!

This is the only photo I could find of the Grange Hotel.

27 July 1978

I had set my alarm for 8:15 so as not to miss breakfast, but when it went off I didn't feel like getting up so I went back to sleep. That didn't work... at 8:45 I was awoken suddenly by a loud obnoxious BEEP BEEP BEEP!!! I turned the intercom thingie on. "Miss Bromo, you had better hurry down to breakfast!" Click. Can't win!

So after breakfast I went back to bed... it was hot so I took off my clothes... The maid kept barging in, without even knocking! So finally I gave up and got up.

Mick had said he'd be round to collect me around noon. I was reading when the intercom buzzed again: "Miss Bromo, there's a young gentleman here to see you." I pressed the button to speak and said, "Send him up!" but they pretended that they hadn't heard me and repeated, "Miss Bromo, there's a young gentleman here to see you..." So I went downstairs and found him on the couch in the main lounge. He said he had just begun to head up the stairs [he had been in my room the two days previous to this] when a leg came out and blocked his passage: "May I help you?"

We went by that pub and had a drink, then went to Mick's house. My feet were killing me from those black shoes! [What price vanity! I tried, without success, to find a photo of those shoes; they were pretty great. But not for trekking through the suburbs of Liverpool!]

Mick's aunt and cousins came over - they were funny. The older one winks at me, and I could never understand a word the little one was saying! They love Elvis and were fascinated by Mick's guitar, but they wouldn't sing.

So later Gary and Gaz came round (oh, Andy had come over earlier but left) and then Rob arrived and we went in his car to Eric's. [Gaz was the bassist in Mick's band, Crash Course; Andy (Eastwood) was the singer and Rob (Jones) the drummer.] It was empty and big and underground and a little like the Masque.

We sat in the first room till the bands played - then in a booth while they were playing - all of Crash Course. The bands stunk, especially the first one which was just like surfers/hippies trying to be a punk band. [I was jaded already - a tough one to please! I am pretty sure the headliner was Those Naughty Lumps, of "Iggy Pop's Jacket" fame. I guess I wasn't impressed enough to even mention them, but they were better than the support, and I can still picture the gangly singer. I just googled and I learned they reformed recently and played in Liverpool last month! More info on Those Naughty Lumps here]

But I had a really good time cause I was so drunk. If I wasn't the drunkest I'd ever been, it was almost the drunkest... Mick had told his mum he was staying out till 2:00 so he said we could leave at 12:30 and then we could have an hour alone in my room... So we did just that - we all got a taxi - took it to a few blocks from the Grange Hotel. Mick said he'd come up the fire escape - how romantic. He didn't kiss me good night or anything cause naturally I'd see him in a couple minutes.

So I opened the front door and no one was up - Mick could have just come in the front door after all! I was just about to shut the front door when a car drove up... Being considerate I held the door open and it was a really drunk middle-aged man who tried to convince me that I should have a drink with him (at 1:00 am in England?!) [I was still green, i.e., I didn't know about lock-ins or that hotels could serve after-hours.] "Just one drink?" Yikes! No way!!

Then he follows me up to my room and when I was opening the door he takes the key away and tries to open it for me... I managed to get it back, got the door open, and slammed the door in his face. I was terrified, especially cause I was so drunk, and I couldn't wait till Mick got there. I opened the fire escape door, went to the toilet, looked out, waited. And waited. I went and sat out on the fire escape and waited. Finally I went down to the garden, walked around, petted the cat, and waited.

I was going to go out to the front but I noticed I would have to pass by a lit window. I wondered if that was what had put Mick off. Went back to my room and waited. But by now I was really getting worried so I went down to the garden again. I crouched down and ran under the window so that no one could see me. Then I crept through the car park so that no one would hear me. I was almost out onto the street when all of a sudden all these people came running out: "Stop! Thief!" I was so drunk I didn't know what the hell was going on. When they saw it was me they said, "Oh, Miss Bromo! If you're looking for your boyfriend, he's long gone. He ran off like a lightning bolt half an hour ago - scared out of his wits, he was..."

Then they took me in through the front door, and I went up to my room and suddenly remembered that it was locked, since I had gone out the fire escape door. I didn't know what to do... I didn't know where the people were and I sure didn't want to see them again! And I wasn't about to spend the night in the lobby. I was too drunk to think about the burglar alarm [obviously, both Mick and I had walked through a beam which triggered it] - I assumed it was off now - [lame, drunken reasoning] so I slipped out the front door and crept through the car park again - and for the third time that night, all the people ran out: "Stop! Thief!!" What jerks!

They all started yelling at me and saying that my boyfriend was home by now. On the way back one of them said, "You should have just let him in the front door - we could have booked you in as Mr and Mrs..." (What? Mr and Mrs Bromo?!)

So they let me in my room. I was so angry and depressed and drunk and disappointed... I threw off all my clothes (had nothing else to throw!) and cried and cried. I hadn't cried so hard or for so long in ages.

When I finally stopped, I put on a T shirt and started writing a letter to Dan. Just as I wrote to Dan: "I wish the door would open and Mick would come in" the door opens! I couldn't believe it!! But in that split second I realised, Duh! Mick doesn't have a key ... It was the old owner pervert!! I'm sure, he doesn't even knock, just barges in at 3:00 am, one and a half hours after they had let me in - and five minutes earlier I had had no clothes on!! The nerve!!! Wish there was some way I could sue them!! [There probably was, but I was young and ignorant... Can you imagine if this happened today?]

Well, anyway the old perv says, "Have you got your boyfriend in here?" and he looks all around (what if Mick were in there?!) then he just stands there for what seemed like for ever just leering at me - the old pervert... I was too drunk to be 100 per cent sure, but he did bear an amazing resemblance to the old pervert who had followed me up the stairs! [But of course; it was the same geezer!]

Well, I had a horrible night. I just wanted to get out of there!

On that day in 1976 - 27 July

I was taking various classes at the Dick Grove School of Music in Studio City; tonight I had Jazz Improvisation. Although we had some instruction - had to learn all the modes in all the keys - it was really more of a jam session; I switched between the acoustic piano and the electric Fender Rhodes.

Rod Stewart used to play soccer in Beverly Hills with some of our South Bay Scottish friends. I cannot for the life of me remember who the "Organic Tomato" was but I think Dan and I gave him (or her) that name. I was still depressed about not properly getting to meet Todd... If only I could tell my teenage self what adventures lay in store on that front!

Robert Williams and his band Radio were playing that night and we went to the show after my class; I think it was at Gazarri's though it might have been the Whisky. I have absolutely no idea why I gave him a chopstick. And he's still alive and well, Dan!

27 July 1976

This afternoon I was so tired I couldn't do anything. Listened to Faithful four times and talked to Audrey. Later I talked to Jade; she wants to go see Rod Stewart play soccer and to the beach tomorrow, and Dan; he said he was gonna take a Dick Grove course and wants to go tonight. Hope he does! Then Bill called and came over and I practiced my modes a bit. Then Ava called; got over her madness quickly. That was funny; she described the Organic Tomato perfectly. Cheryl went to Frisco yesterday. And I also talked to Mary today and I was crying cause I've met all these big stars, like Roger Daltrey, and I can't even meet Todd! And he's supposed to hang out with his fans. Wonder what he thought of my presents.

My improv teacher

The image on my new T shirts

Later: Got my Nazz T shirts finally. And Dan wanted to go. So we did. His hair has gone all curly. He "hung out", said I bombed on the first one but did great on the second. I think it is easier to improvise on chord changes. Dumb Robert didn't even put my name on the guest list but Dan goes, "Is mine on it?" and they let us in! Radio were hot; the singer is a spazz. Whizz Kidz were OK too, typical rock stars though. Hardly talked to Robert; told him they were OK, that I had sort of but not really, met Todd; handed him the chopstick... He goes, "What's this for?"

Oh, I'm supposed to ask Robert if Dan can have his leather jacket if he dies in a car accident. (If he's not wearing it, that is!)

On that day in 1977 - 26 July

Continuing on the family road trip; the day before we had stopped in Leadville, Colorado, which redeemed itself with its thrift store. The $2 dress turned out to be a perfect fit and I wore it for many years; I'm actually about to try to sell it on eBay. My mother told me what it would have cost in the late 50s; it was by Ceil Chapman, a black lace cocktail sheath with a white chiffon insert in back. I'll find or take a photo to insert later. It does appear (on me) in a short I made in 1979 which I need to get transferred from Beta!

Wow, I've never got round to googling Ceil Chapman till now. I found out her dresses are worth much more than I expected and from this blog I learned she was Marilyn's favorite designer: http://www.pinupgirlstyle.com/profiles/blogs/ceil-chapman-the-female-dress-engineer However, I also learned that one could buy Ceil Chapman dress patterns, and I think my dress might have been handmade for one. It's got an embroidered CC label sewn in, but as I know that Vogue Patterns used to include designer labels (I made a Dior suit once). And although I know couture was all hand-sewn back then, on this one the stitches aren't as even as one might expect in couture. That's all on the inside though; the dress is impeccable and was barely worn when I got it for two bucks. Now the chiffon is stained from years of hanging in my damp childhood closet... :-( But I'd still wear it if I could fit into it!

(More info once I can see some information about the patterns; I'm on a slow computer which at the moment will not open any new sites...)

I would get carsick a lot when I was a kid, especially when reading (and I was always reading!) but I can't remember a time that I did after this. I guess I outgrew it.

The main reason I included this entry was for my comments about Aspen… And I claimed not to be a punk rocker!

26 July 1977

The next day we went around downtown. That Goodwill store was soooo neat and cheap! But no dressing rooms and we couldn't stay long and you couldn't buy Girl Scout dresses. I still haven't tried on the $2 dress I got (originally several hundred!!) Then I found the Tiger glasses! [I'm not positive, but I think these were tiger-striped sunglasses, which I would have bought as a present for Tiger.]

I got really carsick and we stopped in Aspen. I felt so gross. I don't like the people around there – too athletic and mellow.

We stayed in Basalt. That's weird that the restaurant had Chinese food. But the dumb waitress forgot to bring me my cookie!

On that day in 1980 - 25 July

I think I mentioned in a previous post from this year that in the spring I had been beaten up by some HB jock fake punk thugs at the Fleetwood in Redondo Beach. This girl from Huntington Beach - never found out her name though I later heard that she committed suicide - started it all; set the thugs upon me.

I was living at the Manor and at this time my housemates were: Shawn and Mark Stern, Elliot, Kevin, Jason... and I think Keith the Vietnam vet had not left in a huff yet, though I doubt he was around at the party. [Yes, just noticed his name a few days later when he evicts De De from the house...] I was the only girl for the first few weeks there. [Though a few days later I start mentioning a Laura... Who was Laura? LATER: Of course! I cannot remember her last name but she was Tiger's ex-girlfriend who had moved down from Portland and was staying with someone in the house.]

I think I was moping around and driven to drink too much to forget that I had not heard from Michael Murphy since the 13th (which I posted) - an eternity when you're that young! He did come to my rescue with a tire iron (I had to change a tire and he gallantly did it for me) a couple days after the party and all was back to normal, briefly. Both he and Michael Livingston joined Ella and the Blacks after the Mcdonalds were kicked out. The Michael I keep mentioning in the post is always Livingston; I had not yet started calling him "Mikey"...

The Misterrogers record I refer to was actually just an album cover, which I had hung on the wall. I recited the lyrics to one of the songs at Record Club a few years ago; I was about to go look for the thing but I found the lyrics online, of course. They have nothing to do with anything in this entry, but I shall give them to you anyhow, as they are the most fabulous set of lyrics EVER!

Parents Were Little Once Too

It's great for me to remember
As I put away my toys,
That mothers were all little girls one time
And fathers were all little boys.

My daddy seems so big right now.
He must have grown a lot.
Imagine how he felt one day
When he was just a tot.

My mother's not so big as Dad
But bigger than my sister.
I wonder if she ever had
A little fever blister.

Daddy didn't even have
A real electric fan.
He had to wait a long time, too
'Til he became a man.

My mother used an ironing board
And play irons that were colder.
She often wished for big folks' things
But she waited and got older.

So knives and plugs and hot things are
OK for Mom and Dad.
'Cause when they were a girl and boy
They played with what they had.

25 July 1980

Everyone kept calling and asking about the party at my house. Huh?!! At first I was a little pissed off cause I'd sort of wanted a "quiet evening at home", but then I thought, it might be kinda fun.

Well, had to pick up Jennie, and Gerber and Rob Henley, and we stopped at the Whisky. Some people were there; talked to Gloria and Critter. Then when I was crossing the street I saw her - the girl who started it all at the Fleetwood!!! Now that I saw the real person, how could I have EVER thought it was Gloria!!! I was gonna round up a bunch of people to get her but she left.

Jennie kept nagging to leave. Peanut Killer [Danny Shades, who lived in an apartment around the corner from the Whisky] told me that Cliff Hanger had knocked on his window and had passed out in the alley. Well, I had to go rescue him! I walked right past him at first... Then I brought him back with me and he kept wanting me to go have a drink with him but we talked him into coming to the party with us.

Everyone was hanging out in the street and parking lot. I went to talk to Dewey or somebody and never saw Paul [Cliff Hanger] again.

Inside my house Aretha [Mary], Janice and Jeannie were playing jump rope and Michael Livingston was sitting there, looking like he was on acid. I told him to come and see my room [he had helped me move in, weeks ago, but had not seen it since I had painted it - all black, including the floor and ceiling]. We drank wine, and for the rest of the party, except the few times I ventured out (there were hordes of people!!!) we had our own party in my room: me, Michael, Aretha, Janice, Jeannie, Tyrone [Jeff], Frankie, Elliot, Bosco, Jennie, Jimmy [Brat], Tracy... (Not all at one time!) It was fun but later when I thought of it, what was the use of even having a party?! Oh well. Who cares.

Michael loved the Misterrogers record and the lyrics. [Greg, who Mike had replaced in the Mau-Maus, had given it to me.] I showed him a picture of Greg and he sat there and stared at it for about five minutes - like he fell in love or something. He said he liked his hair. Actually I think that from what he'd been told about Greg, he expected someone quite different looking. Cause he stopped putting him down after that!

No Crisis played [there was a stage in the living room right outside my door] - they were OK. In Kevin's room I saw Michael talking to Dede [Troit] and remembered what Jennie had told me.

Dewey was with another girl. [What a ladykiller!] The one who likes Todd. [???] [LATER: Oh, I think that was Roxie, who went out with Scott "Scunt", later of the Mau-Maus and a good friend of Dewey's...]

Some time later Michael and I went to Mayfair for a quart of Rainy [Rainier's Ale, The Green Death]. And we were just like we used to be... [I don't think we had been in a fight or anything; he had just been acting weird!]

When we came back I found out Frankie had told Jennie I'd gone home and she was all upset and Shaun was kicking everyone out but a few people came in my room for Tracy's birthday cake. I didn't have any; just drank more [next day's entry reveals a killer hangover] and then Michael said he was leaving and I can't remember exactly what happened except that I ran after him and said that he couldn't. Well, it's such a long walk! I guess I sort of made a fool of myself. And I went back in and almost everyone had left and i was sitting on the couch talking to Mark who had a black eye from Jason [???!!] and he put his arm around me and I was scared he was gonna try something and I didn't care. But then Elliot came in and laughed at my make-up being all smeared and I stalked off to bed.

I don't remember taking my contacts out or anything after that but Elliot said he knocked on the door and I let him in and yelled at him. Then Jennie said she and Bosco tried to cheer me up.

This wasn't at the Manor; it was at Jennie's house, but it was around the same time. Photo by Jennie.

On that day in 1977 - 25 July

Still on a family road trip; I was crabby! We had been staying in Littleton, Colorado, with my childhood friend Jill and her family. Tammy was my friend from elementary school who had moved to Denver five years ago; we did not manage to meet up.

My father was/is a moth and butterfly collector; hence we had to go to these out of the way places. My mom snored something awful; hence my relief at being able to sleep. Leadville was a miner's town. Pushbutton TV makes me think of old televisions in England, but I think I just meant the TV had a remote. We didn't have one of those at home yet, probably not till the 80s sometime. Yes, kids, we used to have to get up and walk across the room to change the channel!!

25 July 1977

So we had to get up early. I was really crabby all day cause of not being able to see Tammy, and having to leave Jill. I was pissed cause we always do and go what and where Mom and Dad want to and I have no say in the matter. When I was younger it didn't matter so much. But now my friends are all starting to go on vacations with friends (Dan and Peter, Suzanne and whoever...) - that's what I want to do!

Anyway, we got to that stupid pass and it was cold and boring and we had to stay there like three hours and I don't think Dad even caught anything! Then we drove and went through Vail and stayed in L(D)eadville, Colo., but at least we had a real neat motel room (a suite with pushbutton TV - my own double bed and no mom in the room!!)

On that day in 1976 - 25 July

Oh, Lord, can you say "em-bar-rass-ing"?!

E.W. = Edgar Winter; D.H. = Dan Hartman; I think I only used initials to save space

We knew where Rod Stewart lived because Trudie had found his Beverly Hills address in someone's book; she also had Bob Dylan's (in Point Dume) and quite a few others. Mary and I think Brent had once spotted Ron and Russ in their Thing! and followed them to an apartment building in Westwood. I have no idea who the E.W. fan was or what we did with him after he was picked up, nor why I thought that Mary was dumb. (Sorry, Mary!)

25 July 1976

Today I went with Cat to pick that guy up who had a spazz about me meeting E.W. He hates D.H.! Then Cathy, Mary and I went to H-wood, wandered around the Beverly Hilton, then tried to find Ron and Russ's in Westwood. Mary is dumb enough; then drove up that hill and down and then to Rod Stewart's. No one was home but we left the note. Robert [Marlow] says he played soccer with him and he's gonna do that every week. [I went to watch a couple times; Rod did not show up...] Oh, we called Earle too; talked for one second cause he had to go.

On that day in 1975 - 25 July

A fairly short entry from my non-daily journal/commonplace book; well, short if I don't transcribe all the full lyrics that I wrote out! I had to google the first set as I did not remember the song ("Anyway"), and found that someone had blogged about it, even more enthusiastically than I did. See: http://www.zentastic.com/blog/2001/09/27/anyway-they-say-she-comes-on-a-pale-horse-but-im-sure-i-hear-a-train-oh-boy-i-dont-even-feel-no-pain/

Anyway, (sorry!), I shall not bore you with the complete lyrics, nor the mooning/musing over Robert, whose name appears all over the margins - jeez! And here's yet another Ella (Fitzgerald) reference!

25 July 1975

I love that song. But I could never learn all the words. I'm gonna figure out how to play it though. Wish I could have another creative period like I did in May-June.

All of a sudden I realized how great The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway is. Keep playing it. Ondi adores it. Susan scratched it! Gave herself away yesterday: "Did you play side two?"

Had a dream last night that I called Dan to ask about Gentle Giant (as I really did last night - by the way, it was postponed!), and he said he'd go but only if Ella Fitzgerald went! And I said I'd ask her. Bizarre.

I'll call Jade tomorrow. Since G.G. is postponed, I have to go to the Sweet! [I never did see Gentle Giant - oh well! I had a very limited budget those days so couldn't go to half the shows I wanted to, until I figured out how to get in free...]

Got my hair cut yesterday. Looks the same.Wait till I get a Patti Quatro!!! [Suzi Quatro's sister was in Fanny and I had torn out a photo of her from Creem magazine. I never did find a hairdresser who could make me look as wild as her though.]

That's Patti Quatro on the right. Funnily enough, I did obtain that hairdo, with bleached blond hair, when I sang with the HeeShees many years later!

Here I am with the HeeShees in the summer of 1984. I think I outdid Patti Quatro! Photo by Gary Leonard

When Dan saw my hair Toni goes, "It's a FEMALE, Dan!" [No idea what this means...] Dan hates pools. He asked me what I'd been up to; he went to Sequoia. He teased me about Todd. Told him about "Practically 17". [Also, no idea!] Remember: Ryan's Hope and The People Next Door and Teenage Zombies! [Well, how could one ever forget Teenage Zombies?!]

On that day in 1978 - 24 July

I was back in London, staying at my friend Paul's in Kensington. The Clash were playing that night, I think at the Music Machine (later Camden Palace). It was the first time I saw them, as well as their support, Suicide. The latter got a lot of stuff thrown at them, but I thought they were great!

Here it was, the middle of 1978, and I still had long, wavy hair! I had been reluctant to go short as the last time I had - when I was 13 - it went ultra curly - blecch! And naturally I wanted it short and spiky. I thought maybe a proper Kings Road hairdresser could perform miracles.

As for the psychedelic power of my Syd Barrett badge, make of that what you will...

24 July 1978

I got up, got ready, put on my Syd Barrett badge, which I had not worn before, and set off for Kings Road.

Walking to the tube station I realised I felt really weird, really spaced out. It was like being on acid! I was just walking along without really thinking about it.

On the tube I got really freaked out - all the people bugged me and I wanted to get off!

Well, I did, at Sloane Square, and began walking down Kings Road. There were tons of clothes shops but I felt too spaced out to look in any - they weren't that great anyway.

They did have the neatest trousers in BOY - but I couldn't get into a 26. I felt fat... [I weighed about 98 pounds/7 stone then.] I think they were 24s...

I kept hearing songs that sounded different than normal - God Save the Queen - well, maybe it was a bootleg. Devo - that's understandable - the LP. But Rod Stewart's Hot Legs?!!

Seditionaries was closed. I found the Buzzcocks LP in a used record stall - the guy played a few tracks off it. That's when I felt ULTRA spaced out.

I went back to Seditionaries which was now open... They didn't have as good stuff as BOY did. I left a message for Helen in there.

I found a haircutting place and they said to come back in half an hour. I went and ate in Pizzaland.

I hadn't got my hair cut in a place in years. [For the past six or seven years I had been doing it myself or else Helen took care of it.] She gave me a magazine to read and it had the best picture of the Only Ones in it! I was gonna ask if I could have it but I decided I could just buy it.

So I wasn't paying attention to how much she was chopping off - she sort of got carried away! Well, at least I got my money's worth! Actually I didn't think it looked so bad till it dried and got all kinky. Oh well...

Then I had trouble finding that 19 Magazine - went all up and down by Notting Hill Gate and by High Street Kensington but no newsagent had it.

Bought some raspberries. And ate them all.

Back at Paul's I changed my Syd badge for the Clash one so I wouldn't have to remember later on. And later I realised that that was when I began feeling normal again... STRANGE.

Paul's friend Sheila came over and made dinner. They went to a film and I set out for the Clash.

Found the place OK and there was Mary, sitting out in front of the venue! Twas a joyful reunion...

It was sold out - neither of us had tickets - but we decided to hang out.

Finally met some London punks - but I never saw them again. Finally saw an English asshole policeman [I meant that every cop I had encountered so far had been nice, unlike their counterparts in the States] - tells me to take that drink back to the pub. Later I had just finished it and was answering that blond girl's question when he comes up again - asshole! Says I'm gonna throw it on the ground. Sure.

Some guy sold Mary and Brian tickets for £2.50 and this other guy kept bugging me - for £3.50 - and we kept arguing and arguing... I think I ended up giving him £3.25 and he kissed me on the cheek and said he'd buy me a drink later but I never saw him.

We went right down by the front. Danced a little to records. met this skinhead guy - he was really nice though but I kept making faces the other way when he leaned on me...

When Suicide came on there was too much shoving and stuff being thrown so I moved off to the side. I saw that guy I saw at the Radio Stars - weird. It was a pretty good place but I didn't wanna stand there for hours so I went out in the foyer. After a while I found Helen, and on the top balcony, the Dickies. I talked to Billy for a while.

Later I found Helen again downstairs. She told me the story about how she got in there (climbing in a window) and I "loaned" her a quid to get something to eat - I'm so generous!

For the Clash I stood in the back but I could see pretty well. I danced to some of the songs but it was so hot!! My feet didn't hurt as much when I danced. They were pretty good - I kept changing my mind. I loved them when they did songs I knew and liked; I thought they were overrated while they did the others... [Profound! I just realised this would have been a few months before Give Em Enough Rope came out, so they probably did a lot of those tracks.] At least they did all their good songs.

Afterwards I saw Brian while I was getting my coat but after I got it I couldn't find either him nor Mary. I looked all over - found all the Dickies and Kent [he worked for the Dickies and also the Quick] says, "Hey, aren't you from LA?"

But I finally found them and Mary talked me into walking even though it was late and my feet were now killing me. Brian was mad at her for talking to people and he disappeared so we weren't sure if we were going the right way. Then when he reappeared he would either walk really far ahead or really far behind us. What a geek. It was so FAR - four or five miles! I kept saying I was gonna stop and call a taxi but I'm glad I didn't - they take so long. And right when we were almost to their hotel, one drove by - what timing!

I wasn't tired when I got in. I had a cup of tea and wrote a letter and didn't go to bed till 4:30 or so. [And I had to get up at 8:00 to go to Liverpool the next day!]