Received a thoughtful text from a dear friend whom I used to see on a daily basis (throughout my 20s) and now haven’t had the chance to see in over 5 years. He spoke of mid-west thunderstorms, Grain Belt Premium and South Minneapolis duplex porches… Here’s to wonderful memories.Image

which then had me craving a CC Burger at the CC Tap…


Thanks for the walk down memory lane, my dear friend Scott!




So this happened. Long ways from an über arrogant minnesota anti-government musicphile to recognized célèbre. Wow. Just wow.


Gorillas dig Indians – 1983

Those of you that know me. Really…really…really know me. Understand that I am a Gorilla. First and foremost. In order, it goes:

1. Gorilla

2. White (that’s skin, baby)

3. Girl

You got it. Some folks bleed their college colors. I bleed Crimson and White. But what only a few of you may know, I also bleed B.

No, my blood type is actually O+. But my Class? It’ll always be B.

Last month, retired Davenport High School history teacher and basketball coach, Jim Stinson wrote an amazing book, “Remembering the ‘B’“.

So, anyone who’s familiar with Washington State B Basketball understands just how AWESOME this history is for all us B basketball junkies.

Maybe you’ve seen the movie HOOSIERS. Believe me, that ain’t got SHIT on what used to happen at the old Boon Street barn Spokane Coliseum (I got some concert stories too…)

Anyway. I was talking to mom tonight, reflecting on the great stories in the book. We talked about the bullshit call in 1961. And then about the great Lyle Patterson and Gene Smith. But talk soon turned to the Reardan Indians 1982 State Champs. That photo catapulted me back and reminded me of the night they took that crown.

I’m not too sure who all was there, but know for a fact that my sister Michelle and friend Leslie were at my side. Somehow…in some weird alternate universe, we…Gorilla Cheerleaders (okay, so I was still in Junior High…I was still a cheerleader!), ended up at THEE Reardan Indians party house in Spokane.

I won’t go into details, but suffice to say, I drank wayyyyy too much Rainer Beer, Phillip Lillengreen was acting like “big brother” to ensure no one took too much advantage of 13 year-old me and Curt Burge kissed my face shortly after I puked over the deck at said Reardan party-house.

I can’t remember, for the life of me, which cute little reardan indian i wanted to smack on…but know that I wished he was there. Instead, I proceeded to drink more Rainer (as a good Washingtonian should) and enjoy the evening.

All this memory stuff, just from one amazing book…you should get yourself a copy.

It all reminds me of this song…

Without coffee, I’d have no identifiable personality at all…

So, it’s my friend George’s Birthday. Those of you who are Towerites know the importance of this man and why he made working at and for Tower a blast…yes, we all remember the Scarlett Letters.

In honor of George’s Birthday, I give you:

You’re a class act, Mr. S! Have a great Birthday!

My Friend

Buckmaster to Ticketmaster…Buckmaster to Ticketmaster…

There’s really not a week that goes by that I don’t think about my time at Tower Records. I miss the work more than a person really has a right to…

Today was a day that has me thinking about this song:

Here’s the original video

Paul (aka: Justice) would jump from the stairwell landing down to the basement (LP’s and Ticket Bastard/Classics floor) just at the time Perry o’terri Farrell screams, “comin’ down the mountain”

Ahhh, the good ‘ole days…


BTW: I went to this and it doesn’t get the credit due for being the inspiration for Lollapaloozer (yes, I have great distane for this event). Contrary to what one might think about “A Gathering of Tribes” both shows were spectacular and I was blown away when, out of the blue, Sinead O’Connor took the stage in LA…made my year.

Dogs lay at your feet…

Many years ago, I was enamoured by this band

My boyfriend at the time was a pathetic Cult fan. So I (naturally) became one too.

We drove up and down the west coast following them during their Sonic Temple era. I even got to wear Billy Duffy’s leather jacket, eat shrimp with Ian Astbury and his at the time girlfriend, Claire, and best of all? Was told by Jamie Stewart that I should, “pick up the fucking bass. Maybe you’ll replace me soon?”

I’m all nostalgic due to The Cult putting out a new album. The first cut…it’s just sad.

I miss LOVE and Electric. Hell, I’d even be okay with hearing this again…

PS: the leather jacket that Billy Duffy is wearing in this video is the actual jacket I tried on…i am so rock.


Frenchie ain’t such a bad fellow after all…

30 years = a full-grown adult

30 years = a career

30 years = a long time

My mom and pop - 1963

They were only married 18 years before he had to go and pass away. She’s almost been single twice as long as she was married. Hum…

In honor of my dad, I offer up this little ditty about dancing, partying and general enjoyment of Le Pays Basque…

Did I mention he was the best dad ever?