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The Beginning |
The hardest part is just getting started.
That always seems to be the case with me. Once I can get a project moving it usually takes on a life of it's own, with my being there just to give it a shove now and then as needed. I am hoping that is what is going to happen here. I have been writing down, and crossing out, various different ways of getting this going for a few days now, and after all of that hassle it occurs to me that this may well be the best way to begin. The tale that I will tell is the story of my life so far, specifically focusing on the projects that I have been involved in and the resulting pile of debt that they have left me with. That pile is a large one, but the path that led me to it was exciting and personally fulfilling. I guess what I want to figure out is... Was it all worth it? And even if it wasn't, is there some way that I can turn that lesson into something valuable? At the very least, it will give me another project to work on for the time being and in the end I will have a timeline of the major events in my life that I will be able to refer back to as I get older. And there is a lot to remember. I have started businesses at a young age, toured with bands around the country, written and directed a feature length movie, put on shows and released vinyl records and CDs for dozens of bands and watched many of the people that I have worked with rise to fame and fortune. I have fought against various negative elements that have invaded my scene and stayed true to my values for two decades. And somehow, throughout all of that, I have remained generally resistant to the accumulation of wealth.
I wouldn't change anything but that last part.
Hopefully I am going to figure out how to do that here.
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Bellingham is as good a place to start as any, I suppose; which is a fine thing considering that it is where my story begins. It is a small Western Washington city near the top of the I-5 corridor about 30 miles south of the Canadian border. I was born in that town in 1970 and lived there for 22 years, and if it weren't for my family I would be perfectly happy to never set foot there again. I am not a fan of Bellingham for a number of reasons, but that is not really what this story is about so I will leave it at that and comment more on it later if the opportunity arises. I grew up with an older brother and two younger sisters in a house in the county a few miles outside of town, and I was raised by a mom and dad who didn't get divorced or move us around or subject us to the usual sorts of chaos that seemed to be inflicted on so many other kids that I knew. We were stable and happy, with a few exceptions of course, and I am grateful for the solid upbringing that I had. |
My Old House.
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Still, things were not perfect. They never are. My brother had issues that caused a lot of trouble in our little paradise, and by the age of 15 he had gone to live with my Grandmother across town. When I watch the movie Dazed and Confused I am reminded of what he and his friends were like at that time, except that in the movie that lifestyle is presented as a good-time party and a coming of age adventure and I know from unfortunate experience that in the end at least some of those people were left with drug habits that they could never get a handle on. My brother was one of those, and he has never been able to get his life together as a result. To say that his substance abuse issues have had an impact on my life would be an understatement. His example influenced me to make lifestyle choices at a fairly young age that are still a big part of my life today. That will be a major aspect of this story, but we are not quite there yet. First I have to grow up some, become a punk rock skateboarder, and start a business.
So here's how that happened... |
My memory begins at Star Wars. Sitting in the theater, the Viking Twin to be exact, and watching that movie. From that point on I can pretty much remember everything, but prior to that day I only have faint images and impressions. I vaguely remember an earlier movie at the same place. It was something involving pirates and an island with a bunch of traps on it. I know that it wasn't Treasure Island and that I saw it with my brother and that something about it scared me, but other than that, nothing. It is the same with everything else from that time: I have only a series of short, disconnected scenes that I can't even be sure of the order in which they occurred or in some cases if they even really did. I absolutely remember learning to ride a bike. I remember that I was terrified of people with beards. I pretty clearly remember being on a beach and seeing a large ship come into view through the fog and then being on the ship and looking into a display case full of trophies and model cars. I have been told that this last one never happened, which I find strange because I remember it just as clearly as anything else. I have also been told that I used to eat peanut butter from the end of a leather belt that I would dip into the jar. I definitely remember chewing on the end of a belt, but I have no memory of the peanut butter. I remember always wanting popsicles at my aunt's house and candy from the candy dish at my grandmother's. I know that I loved to watch a fire burn and that time felt like it took 3 or 4 times as long to pass as it does now. I remember some of my toys, and my Incredible Hulk t-shirt and the fact that I was sure it made me stronger when I was wearing it.
I think that if I tried I could remember more, but it would not be much more than a jumble of ideas until that day in the theater in 1977. The magnificence of Star Wars either really woke me up for the first time or blasted away everything that had come before. I'm not sure which it was, or if it matters; I only know for sure that it was the first thing that really had a major impact on me. |
I don't remember the actual first time that I met Bill, and neither does he. I remember already knowing him on the day that he was screaming in pretend pain by the monkey bars with a Halloween make-up wound on his hand and trying to get people to believe that he was actually hurt. He was Billy Baker in those days, and that is my earliest clear memory of him. He remembers something having to do with me dragging around a jump rope and singing the Banana Splits theme song. That sounds reasonable to me. Neither of us know exactly how it happened, but we became close friends on that playground and have remained so to this day.
Bill now lives a few miles away from me in Seattle, but back in those days he lived in an apartment building a few feet from the Alderwood elementary school playground. He was unlike anyone I had ever met. He was much smarter than everyone else. He read way above his grade level and could draw better than anyone I knew. He lied constantly. He got into fights and caused all sorts of mayhem. Everyone should be blessed with a friend like this at a young age as they just make everything so much more interesting.
The only thing that I ever really had a problem with was the lying. You have seriously never heard anybody make up stories like this kid could. Every time I would get to the end of my rope with it and think that I couldn't take any more, one of his more outrageous stories would end up actually being true. This made it pretty much impossible to ever know where you stood with what he said. It was just too much for a lot of people, which is how a lot of the fights happened, but most of the time I just went along with it. One famous example that I still give him a hard time about to this day was the "Bespin" incident. (Bespin is the city in the clouds in the Star Wars movie THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK.) There was a huge toy store opening up in town called Cost Cutter Toys, and my friends and I were eagerly awaiting opening day as there was no other store like this anywhere near Bellingham. We mused constantly on what never-before-seen treasures we might encounter there when it finally opened. It was just too much for Bill. We began to hear stories about just exactly what we had to look forward to, because apparently Bill's mother was going to be working at the store and he had been given an opportunity to preview some of the rare and wondrous items that were awaiting us. He spun tales of incredible new Star Wars toys that were going to be unveiled as part of the grand opening. We listened intently, and desperately wanted it to be true this time. The cherry on top of this sundae was a huge Bespin Cloud City play set that was so big that it would fill your whole room and had landing pads for the Millennium Falcon just like in the movie and even a place to freeze your Han Solo figure in carbonite. This was a big lie, it had to be, but Bill swore up and down that it was true and that it didn't matter if we believed it or not because his mom was getting him one if she got hired so then we'd see. No such toy has ever existed, of course, but I still sometimes wonder if Bill had actually convinced himself that it was real.
When the store finally did open it was a huge let down. Not only did it not have any of the amazing stuff that Bill had described, but it was actually less cool than the toy department at Yeagers (a store that we had all been going to for years.) We didn't find anything new at all. This was my first big brush with real disappointment, and it was another of those big impact moments. Bill's big lie was exposed, and some never forgave him.
I did though. I always did. I must have known that it would all be worth it someday. |
One of my birthday parties.
Bill is in the front. I'm the kid with the comic.
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Having a best friend who is a cross between the kid in the Calvin and Hobbes comics and Max Fischer (see RUSHMORE) will make for a lot of "interesting" situations in your life.
He definitely did shoot a flaming arrow to try to burn down a tent in one of our friend's back yard once when he was angry. (The burning model glue on the tip of the arrow went out as it flew through the air.)
He definitely did, during our grade school swimming lessons, run around naked in the locker room at the YMCA screaming "It's The Misadventures of Sheriff Lobo!" - causing us all to be late because he wasn't dressed and ready when it was time to go.
And he definitely did, in the 3rd/4th grade split class that we were in together, glue a small black construction paper mustache to his face while we were all making Valentines and then ran around the room screaming in fake German that he was "the Furer." The teacher tried to stop him but when he began to scream at her about all kinds of crazy Hitler-ish stuff she made the mistake of laughing, which made him go crazier and sent the rest of the class into chaos. A kid named Bobby Taylor put some cotton balls up on his chin and began yelling that he was Uncle Sam and chasing Bill around the room. The lovely Miss Emmons finally managed to usher those two out into the hall and get the rest of the class under control.
It was truly amazing.
(I swear to you, this really happened. Ten years later they probably would have put him away and medicated him into oblivion for this kind of behavior. Time was on our side, I guess.)
So the point is that I have witnessed many strange things due to Bill, and I am spending this much time on his history so you will understand how he fits into my story along the way. The fact is that if Bill is removed from the equation very little of what I have done would have been possible. It is probably also true to say that for better or worse he has strongly influenced the way I relate to the world around me. |
So this is where I will end the beginning, I think.
There will be a few more mentions of my earliest years, but I am eager to get grown up and start figuring out that I fit in better when I don't. It will make more sense when we get there.
It usually does. |
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