Retirement....

So, I was watching a documentary on Jack Nicklaus' 1986 comeback win at the Masters today. At the end, he was asked by a reporter after his win, if he was going to retire. He responded "No, I'm not smart enough for that". His reply wasn't really important to me. What I wanted to know was "What the hell does a golfer do when he retires?" Take up tennis? Build a bridge? Be a greeter at Walmart? I don't know...

Anyhoo, I can't believe it's been almost 3 years since I've posted anything here. I don't know if anyone even comes here anymore, but maybe that's for the better.

I'm not really writing this for anyone to read. If someone does, so be it. That's fine.

What does a punk rocker do when he retires? I'll find out, I guess.

A lot has happened in the last 3 years. I've made some friends, lost others, found out exactly who my real friends are. And aren't.

But the main thing that has happened is that I just don't have the passion for music I once did. But, why, you're probably axing yourself?

A thousand little things added up to the one big straw that broke the camel's back.

About a year and a half ago, I missed a very important day in a very good friend's life. But with good reason. A family member was diagnosed with a very serious illness, and I, along with my whole family were a little more than preoccupied for the last couple months of the year. And, as a result, I didn't go to this event. I apologized many times, with no reply. I've been un-friended by this person on FB. I've been snubbed. So, now, I'm over it. The band I've been in for many years is no more. But that's ok. My hands are developing a tremor, my voice is no doubt shot, and all the other inconveniences that come with being an aging punk.

A few years ago, my other band, The No-Goodniks, were playing at Shire Rd. Club. We were playing with Ashtray. 15 years ago, every punk in a 50 mile radius would have been there. But this night? About 8 people managed to make the drive. At the time I was 45 years old. I was up on stage, sweating my ass off, trying to entertain the people who did show up. I looked out into the "crowd" and saw an audience member stare off to the right, arms folded, while he yawned. I had what the drunks call "a moment of clarity". "What the hell am I doing??" I thought to myself. I write these songs, haul all this equipment to practice them over and over, haul the equipment out to wherever to play in front of 8 people who don't give a shit? Why should I, then? Now, I know, anyone who's been in a band has looked out and saw an audience member yawn. But this one got me. Before our set was over, I knew there was a light at the end of my musical tunnel. On our way home from our next practice, I told Jessi I didn't want to do it anymore. She thought that was fine since she was moving to LA. Cool.

When I was in kindergarten, my best friend was Mark M. We're standing next to each other in our kindergarten yearbook. He's still my best friend 40+ years later. We started our first punk band together, The $windles. We played at our high school talent show, and various other shows around town, mostly basement parties. Mark and I were really the only "punks" in our school. No one really knew what the hell "punk" was at the time, especially in Tiny Town PA. We did mostly Sex Pistols, Ramones, Undertones, and Clash covers. I'm sure we sucked, but it didn't matter. It was more fun than I ever thought it could be. And I promised myself then that I'd stop when it stopped being fun. I'm a couple steps past that point now.

Mark was a part of Captain 9's & the Knickerbocker Trio when we started, too. I met Lee, the drummer right out of high school and Lee and I played as a 2 piece in his sister's basement. We had no aspirations to anything but just that. But we ended up doing some recording at a local (PA) recording studio and released some 7"s. Mark played bass on our first recordings. Last March, 2011, Mark flew out to CA to play some Capt. 9's shows with Ed Nar on drums. I booked shows in Fresno, Stockton, Sacramento, and San Francisco. And we had a blast! It was so fun playing those goofy songs again with someone who knew exactly why I started playing music in the first place! But, once the tour was over, I knew I had my stopping point. Mark was onstage with me the first time I sang in front of people at our high school talent show, and he was onstage with me the last time I was onstage, 30+ years later, playing Goddammit I'm Pissed on a filthy stage in S.F. to a good-sized crowd who, for some wacky-ass reason, knew all the words.

The only time I've been onstage since, and really, the last show I went to was The Creamers at Old Ironsides in June of '11. I felt, as the old saying goes, "about as welcome as a turd in a punchbowl" at that show. So, I haven't gone to a show since. I'll certainly miss the people I only saw at shows. But the way I felt at Old I that night, snubbed and alone, it's not worth it.

So, I've since sold my Marshall amp to someone who I hope will love it and use it like I did. If you go to a show and some kid is playing a grey fuzzy Marshall amp, that's probably it.

I know, people like Kepi and Kevin Seconds, who are both around my age are still out there doing it, and they more than deserve your support. But they do it for a living. I was doing it for fun, and I wasn't having any. So, you can now look at my musical "career", such as it is, and judge away. Like what I've done, love it, hate it, ignore it, it doesn't really matter. I've got nothing else to prove.

So, what does a punk do when he retires? I'll let you know. Probably in around 3 more years or so. But in the meantime, go to a show.

And stifle those yawns!