Tag Archives: Georgia
The B-52s
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Girls of BIUL, Thousand Listen Club
Hate Proof: Adam Ant’s “Goody Two Shoes”
You probably won’t believe this, but when I was a stage actor in the late 90s, I hung around with an actual carny. A guy who really did run off to join the circus as a kid, name of D.C.; a character so colorful, the memories seem like legends. We used to cruise the streets of Savannah in his gigantic box truck and pick up chicks. It was every bit as great as it sounds. Who amongst you can say you’ve been a carny’s wingman?
I have no idea where D.C. went after the century’s turn. Probably somewhere fun and awesome, relatively close to a beach or a circus. Backstage when we were castmates in a production of Brendan Behan’s The Hostage, he would signal an impending night of debauchery by singing “pound note, pound note.”
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Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Nostalgic Obsessions, Thousand Listen Club
New Kids On The Block
Savannah, Georgia, late 1990.
A young man of eighteen staples fliers around his college campus, advertising his upcoming periodical. And his Cult.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Faint Signals, Magazine Rack
Mazzy Star
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Faint Signals, Girls of BIUL, Worst Of All
Atlanta Is My Lady
You wanna know how to tell if a city is your home? When terrible things happen to you there, and it never occurs to you to leave. You don’t abandon your home. You stay and tough it out.
There was a night during my stay in Fulton County Jail where all of us were herded into the rec area, so that the guards could search the ward for contraband. Apparently some inmates had been smoking weed in their cell. Since that cell was mine, and one of the inmates was me, I spent my time in the rec room deep in contemplation. As time wore on no quicker than molasses, we all started to chat to break the tension.
The cement room was sweltering. The walls were nine feet high, rimmed with cyclone fencing. If I jumped vertically, I could catch a glimpse of the glimmering Atlanta skyline I missed so terribly. This was soothing. Some of the inmates I’d befriended took notice, and I eagerly explained myself. It was the first view of the city I’d had in a month.
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Machines Of Loving Grace
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Faint Signals, Nostalgic Obsessions
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