An Evening With Henry

Last Wednesday I had the pleasure of spending the evening with one of my personal heroes, Mr. Henry Rollins. Henry Rollins is a punk rock icon & oh so much more. He'll always be known as the lead singer of the seminal Los Angeles punk rock group Black Flag & then his later solo work in The Rollins Band. He's an actor, author, philanthropist, tour guide, & my personal favorite; a raconteur. This man travels, everywhere & has seen & experienced some extremely cool shit! He's quite literally been all over the world doing his 'Spoken Word Performances.' Thankfully the man usually makes 1-2 stops in Southern California around my neck of the hood each year. The show was after work down in Solana Beach @ The Belly-Up Tavern(Is that the best name for a bar or what!?) & I arrived early. Well extremely fucking early(About 3hrs before showtime.) because I wasn't about to fight the rush hour traffic going home & then turn around in two hours & do the same fucking thing. I strolled up to the box-office, picked up my ticket(Shockingly I was the first patron there!) & noticed that the merch guy was already setting up the t-shirt stand. I perused the fine choices of shirts & settled on a black long-sleeve one w/Henry on the front that said, 'The Frequent Flyer Tour-Knowledge Without Mileage Equals Bullshit(And yes I wore this shirt to work on Friday because it was 'Casual Friday. Natch!).'

Once the doors opened, I settled into a middle seat right in the front row. The Stooges song 'Down On The Street' from their classic 'Funhouse' album(If you don't own this album, you suck & must rectify this situation immediatedly! Seriously, It's Iggy & The Stooges! Buy &/or download it now!!!) blared over the intercom & as we all patiently waited for Henry to make his entrance & start the show, my thoughts drifted back to the Fall of '91 when I first discovered punk rock. I was smack dab in the middle of pledging Phi Kapa Theta(Ooh Raah Fuck!) Fraternity & having the time of my life. I did notice that I was starting to get some grief about my choice of music from one particular fraternity brother though, Sluggo.

'Biff, seriously dude! How many Public Enemy & RUN D.M.C. t-shirts do you own?'

'Alot of 'em.'

'Is that all you fucking listen to?'

'Well, yeah.'

This was true, Somewhere around the ninth & tenth grade I discovered N.W.A. & I listened to rap non-stop for over three years, so I rolled into my college years being extremely, 'Down With O.P.P.'

'Dude! There's nothing wrong with listening to rap, but you're in college man! Broaden your muscial fucking horizons! Have you ever heard of Black Flag or Social Distortion???'

'No who are they?'

With the look of sheer disgust, that Sluggo threw me, you'd have thought that I anally raped his mother while puring sugar into his car's gas tank!

'Biff! You grew up in the suburbs! The boonies actually! Think about it! If you were ever dropped off in any form of ghetto, you'd get your ass kicked!' 'Even though some of that music's good, how can you really relate to it???'

'Well, you do have a point there.'

'No fucking shit I have a point! Now I'm gonna play a song for your stupid rap-ass & I want you to reeallly listen to it? Can you handle that Mr. Public Enemy???'

'Sure thing Slugs.'

Sluggo popped in a cd. The musiC started & I was immediately hooked. The song was Social Distortion's, 'Ball & Chain.' The lead singer Mike Ness nasally drawled out the lyrics,

'Well it's been ten years & a thousand tears

And look at the mess I'm in

A broken nose & a broken heart,

An empty bottle of gin

Well I set & I pray

In my broken down Chevrolet

While I'm singing to myself

There's got to be another way

Take away, take away

Take away this ball & chain.'

Thus began my love-affair with punk rock. It was like I finally found an outlet to express myself. I soaked in as much classic punk rock as my brain would take, much like a a sponge filling up with water. Thankfully Sluggo & the rest of my Phi Kap brethren were fucking punk rock oracles! They supplied me with a crash-course education in Punk Rock 101 & Black Flag was at the top of the curriculum. Black Flag was like my gateway drug into the world of loud, catchy three-string anthems. I started with their album, 'The First Four Years' & then moved on to 'Damaged.' 'Damaged' Henry Rollin's first album with Black Flag & from there I discoved some of his recorded Spoken Word Performances, most notably, 'The Boxed Life.' It felt like he was speaking to me & had a direct line into my thought-process. Then I discovered that he had written books as well(I highly recommend starting out with the first book in his 'Black Coffee Blues series, 'Smile You're Traveling.') & I tore into those as well with intensified glee. Needless to say, Henry's music, spoken word performances, books & movies have been a mainstay in my life. I've been hooked ever since. So as Henry came bounding out onto the stage @ The Belly-Up Tavern & lit into the crowd telling stories & opinions as only he can, I couldn't help but laugh & crack a warm smile. I will always support Henry & as long as he keeps coming to San Diego, I'll never miss a show!

'Don't try to justify your complacency with me. That's not adventure. That's a job!' -Henry Rollins

Fred Durst was right!

I've liked women ever since I could remember. My mother has notes from teachers explaining how, 'Young Timothy is entirely too interested in the young ladies in his class.' This was the third or fourth grade! Anyways, this healthy obsession of the fairer sex has led me to... let's just call them challenging quandaries.

Any guy that's ever been in a relationship with a woman has agreed or volunteered to do something that, if they weren't sleeping with or trying to sleep with said female, would never even consider doing. These requests can vary from the mundane, such as chick-flicks, watcing American Idol, landscaping(I actually did that for a girl once!) to complete bat-shit crazy, such as, 'Can you pick up my foreign friend in Mexico & drive him across the border? He lost his Passport & has a big bag of Ecstacy(A girl I dated for like a week fucking asked me to do that! Obviously I said no & we broke up shortly thereafter.). The problem is we as the male species, sometimes are very simple & revert back to our most base, feral instincts as hunter/gatherers(Eating, sleeping, & fucking-Amen!) & if the 'booty' is good, we'll usually fall right in line & say ok! As that sage prophet Fred Durst of Limp Bizkit so eloquently stated in his mid-nineties opus, 'I did it all for the nookie!!!' Indeed! Good 'booty', hell even just alright 'booty' will make a guy do some pretty strange shit.

Case in point, a few years back, I was dating a Korean woman named Chi. Chi means spirit & let me tell you she had it in spades! Chi was equal parts beautiful & blunt. She had this gift of 'blankness' where she would look deep into your eyes, monotonically call you a fucking asshole & make you believe that it was a compliment. She ran a spa that specialized in facials, manicures, massages & also laser-hair removal, which is where my stupid, horny ass comes into the equation. We had been dating for a couple of weeks & she had just purchased the latest state-of-the-art laser hair removal gun & hired a new nurse that she wanted to get some experience playing with said tool. Using her gift of 'blankness' she sweet-talked me into being the guinea-pig of this operation. Laser hair removal, as defined in the Wikipedia is as follows,

'The primary principle behind laser hair removal is selective photothermolysis (SPTL). Lasers can cause localized damage by selectively heating dark target matter, (melanin), in the area that causes hair growth, (the follicle), while not heating the rest of the skin. Light is absorbed by dark objects, so laser energy can be absorbed by dark material in the skin (but with much more speed and intensity).'

What they forgot to mention is that if not administered properly, it fucking hurts! But I digress, Since the 'booty' was good, & being a good guy(A.K.A. Thinking with my dick!), I reluctantly agreed. Since I did frequently shave my chest(I don't anymore.), I figured , 'what the hell, It'll save me some time in the shower right???' So I enter Chi's spa not entirely sure what to expect. I'm instructed to take my shirt off & lay down on a table.

'Does this stuff cause cancer?' I asked, 'Quit being such a fucking pussy Beef! Everything causes cancer. This air that you're breathing will probably give you cancer. Who gives a fuck(This is how she pronounced my name. It sounds much cuter than when it's typed, trust me!)!' 'Fine. Whatever! Just fucking zap me then, I'm here aren't I??? Do your worst!'

She threw me a sly smile & called in the new nurse. She looked like she was pushing 60 & not happy to be there. She picked up the laser gun & asked Chi how to point it.

'Wait a minute. Shouldn't she already know how to point that thing???' 'Shut the fuck up Beef!' 'Ok, sorry, fuck!'

So cranky-nurse begings zapping the hair follicles on my chest & abdomen. The first round wasn't so bad, but she didn't apply enough pressure, so taskmaster Chi insisted on a round two. This is when the pain started, but I kept my mouth shut until she finished.

'Why does it smell like bacon in here?' 'Stop being a fucking pussy Beef, that's your skin. It's just irritated, but that smell will go away.' 'Well that's just lovely. Are we hanging out tonight?' 'No, not until you heal & stop smelling like fucking bacon!' 'Gee thanks!'

Nonchalantly, she gave me some antibacterial ointment & sent my on my merry, bacon-smelling, way.

I went out downtown that night, got a wee-bit drunk & passed out accordingly. I woke up in the morning with the strangest sensation emanating from my chest & abdomen. It felt like a horrible case of poison ivy! I stumbled over to the bathroom mirror & let out a scream. My chest & abdomen were chunky, swollen & red. It looked like I had C-Cups filled with lumpy oatmeal! I grabbed my phone & called Chi.

'Hello?' 'Chi, what the fuck did you do to me!!!' 'Calm down down & tell me what happened?' 'My chest & abdomen are swollen like cottage-cheese& it looks like I have fucking man boobs! This is not a good look for me' 'Oh shit. That's fucking infected Beef!' 'No shit Chi! What should I do???' 'Keep using that bacterial ointment that I gave you. Oh yeah, you probably shouldn't drink, workout or surf until the swelling subsides.' 'Dammit Chi that's pretty much all that I do!' 'Well read a fucking book or something then because you can't do shit until you heal! Don't worry baby, I'll take care of you!' 'Ok cool, do you want to hang out tonight?' 'No way! Not until you heal cuz that shit's gross!'

Chi wanted me to do two more sessions for the procedure to take permanent affect, but I declined. We dated for the rest of the summer & then broke up when she started nursing school. Sigh.... The things that we do for love, or in my case, 'I did it all for the nookie!

Marine Psychology

Strange things can happen if you log enough time in the ocean. You're just so emboldened when you're catching wave after wave that this imaginary protective bubble seems to have encased you & your friends. It's not a bad way to spend a Saturday afternoon! Weird shit abounds my life on a regular basis on good old terra ferma, so why shouldn't it happen in the Pacific Ocean as well right???

For starters, my friends & I tend to get a little loopy at times after being in the ocean for a few hours. Think of it as a nitrogen narcosis of the brain, just without the nitrogen or lack of oxygen. Case in point; When I was in Philadelphia back in 2001, I spent most weekends down at Long Beach Island on the Jersey Shore surfing with my select crew of friends who lived in Philadelphia that actually surfed(They weren't too hard to find. There was actually a support group, Land-Locked Anonymous' where I found them. Just kidding!). We would be just hung-over, dehydrated & generally loopy & stupid shit would just start flowing out of our pores much like the alcohol when we perspired. One particular Saturday my friend Jeremy was in rare form. Let me restate that, he's always in rare form. He's a walking-talking 'Id.' There just isn't a filter when it comes to Jeremy & whatever pops into his brain, no matter how vulgar or profane, would just come spilling out of his mouth & he would smile like a toddler that just shit himself & was proud that he made a doody! One time in college when he was visiting campus, he spent 3 hours walking around to girls saying, 'Chicken or beef?' until one girl finally took him home with her(One time he just walked around saying that he'd suck Ozzy Osbourne's cock just to see how people would react!). He's a great guy to go out with as well obviously. He's pretty much drinks & a show wrapped up in a tight bow of good old-fashioned crazy. Just wind him up & let him run amuck! Anyhoo, we were out surfing & there were 10-15 minute lulls in-between sets & Jeremy started to sing,

'Turn around...'

And I responded, 'Every now & the I get a little bit lonely & you're never coming around...'

And Jeremy, 'Turn around...'

And I, 'Every now & then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears..'

'Turn Around....'

'Every now & then I get a little bit terrified & I see the look in your eyes...'

Then all of a sudden, a big burly dude with a beard behind us bellows,

'TURN AROUND BRIGHT EYES...!!!'

Jeremy & I looked at each other & then turned to burly, bearded dude & together we sang,

'Every now & the I fall apart! And I need you now tonight! And I need you more than ever! And if you only hold me tight, we'll be holding on forever!'

You can only imagine the looks of disgust & horror as the rest of the surfers in the lineup furiously paddled away from the trio of grown men belting out Bonnie Tyler's power Ballad, 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' at the top of our lungs. It was one of the single most emasculating experiences that I've participated in & it was fucking hilarious!

You can cause strange events to happen in the ocean with yor idiot, degenerate friends & other times fate shines it's unforgiving high beams directly into your face & much like a deer caught in headlights, you have to just stand still & pray that car doesn't hit you & swerves. A few years back I was out playing in my backyard, A.K.A. the Pacific Ocean, & found myself surfing in an extremely uncrowded lineup. It was myself & a Hawaiian dude that I regularly see out at my main break where I typically surf. Now it's always safer to surf in a group, but occaisionally you will be out there by your lonesome because you need to get your wave quota for that week. This was one of those solo seesion days. The first hour or so was fine, even schools of dolphins were making their way North around me. This is a normal occurance. I see dolphins practically every time that I surf. At times they do come close to you, but on this fateful day they made contact with me literally! I had just caught a wave & was paddling back out into thelineup when 8 or 9 dolphins started precariously circling me clockwise. I just sat on my board dumbfounded at the sight. 'What the fuck are they doing???' I said to myself as they slowly closed the circle. Closer. Closer. Closer. Now they were walled up completely around my surfboard & BUMP, they made contact! 2 of the dolphins were literally against my legs!!! Their skin felt like wet sandpaper against my exposed flesh. I was pretty much shitting my pants at this point & my defense mechanism conisted of me stroking the dolphins on either side of me like lapdogs & I started saying, 'Good boys! Good boys! I'm your friend! I'm one of the good guys! One of them had a scar above his eye that looked like he'd been in a fight & he was calmly, calculatingly staring right into my eyes. It almost seemed like they were herding me away from something. This spectacle lasted probably for only 10 minutes, but it seemed like an eternity for me. I have never been so simultaneously excited & scared at the same time. Then as quickly as my 'Aquaman' experience began, it ended. They dispersed out into the deep blue sea & I sat there in shock. The Hawaian dude just south of me yelled out, 'brah, what da fuck was that! You got dolphin catnip or something?' I yelled back, 'Your guess is as good as mine. I don't have a fucking clue???' I caught a wave in & sat on the beach for an hour just staring out into the sea wondering, 'Why did you do that to me my dolphin friends?'

When I got home that afternoon, I did a little research online & found out that there have been instances where dolphins have encircled & herded humans who are close to their babies or are around sharks. My blood ran cold. Could it be? Were those dolphins protecting me from becoming a Happy Meal for a shark??? I know other times that I've been in the ocean & someone thought they 'saw' a shark that we'd always pull our surboards together so that from underneath the water we'd seem larger than we actually were. That way the shark would view us as a threat & move on(I've seen countless hours of Shark' Week' on the Discovery Channel that validates this theory.).

Did this experience deter me from surfing. Hell no! I went surfing at the exact same spot the next day. Technically, you have a better chance of being struck by lightning than being attacked by a shark. I refuse to live my life in fear & deny myself the pleasure of surfing. That's just not living & besides how the hell else can I sing(Badly!) power ballads from 80's pop divas???