Monday, September 30, 2002

Shit. I remember those damn games. One game in particular where I decided to be the star QB. I was throwing, running the option, kickoff returns-- I was everywhere. Man, I was good. I woke up the next day and could not walk. Really, I could not walk. My little stick legs had given up. For three days I would hobble to the refrigerator and back to the couch.

Sunday, September 29, 2002

Brooke: I think there usually was beer in the end zone, or at least on the side line. I remember the enormous pain I was in for days after the first game. I remember Frankie smoking Marlboros during plays, and that he could hurl a ball forever. And I remember not being able to catch a pass all day. Also it seems the gay community from quarterbacks provided some of our best players, but I can't remember any of their names. T. Cecil was instrumental in organizing the games, perhaps he can contribute more.

watching the titans be humiliated today reminded me of the football games we used to have on sundays at the intramural field at etsu... frankie, john, brian, donnie, tony, ralph, bill, mike and lynne, onlookers -- i can't remember the whole crew. what i do remember, tho, is ralph dosser stiff-arming a poor blonde woman on the field, and, when donnie made a touchdown in black boot and jeans. he was pleased with himself for some time after that. someone must have told him there was beer at the end of the field -- :). i never knew how difficult football was until then. also amazed at the ability of us to actually organize and show up to do something so physical.

Hello everyone. Mark here. Long-time subscriber; first-time caller. I was the Nightmares' drummer. I was the guy with the mullet and a bit of a temper. GREAT TO SEE ALL OF YOU, I've been reading this stuff for a few weeks. Pretty intimidating room. I was still in high school when many of you were studying mysticism and such,
>ahem< but I'd gladly oblige you with tales of true Johnson City Dirt and raunchy, ribald tales of the Nightmares adventures on the road. I rarely have the time to do more than read what's posted here. As I mentioned before, I have a bit of a temper which has rendered me computerless for the moment. (long story)
Someone in here mentioned Claudia.....where the hell is she now? She and Linda Barnett were roommates at one point...(1989???) and they came to my rescue once in Charlotte, NC ... (Longer story) Took me to the beach, got me drunk and nursed me back to health over the course of two weeks after I split from the Nightmares in 1990. I am forever grateful for their kindness.
I watch this site occasionally when time allows at work and will gladly answer any questions you have for me. Much love to all....

Saturday, September 28, 2002

Say Spam, didn't Ralph (who has a college degree in science) recently reccommend that all victims and/or persons who beleive that they may be victims of alien abduction check for physical evidence of the abduction by way of self examination for residual anal probes????

OK.....we have four bloggers now. Get on peoples asses to do this stuff......shit man. Drew, Russ and myself were the Helion Shoeshine Riders. Yes I remember Claudia.....and the rest of the prudes as well. Good to hear about thear where abouts. OH....Spam. You once told me something that has stuck with me for years...a bit of advice. "Never marry a woman with tits bigger than your head" you said. Damn good advice.

Friday, September 27, 2002

Final Curtain at various times consisted of:

Bruce Honeycutt, Frank Spangler, Donnie Pool, John Smith, Martin, Jeff Campbell, Heather, and myself (version one)

Bruce, Frankie, John, Roland Tester and myself (version B, "the golden age")

Bruce, John, Roland, Wayne Winkler and myself, (version tres) and;

Bruce, Roland, James Arwood, Ric Milhorn and myself, (the Return of the Bride of the Son of Final Curtain)

I hope I did not leave anyone out. It would be nice in retrospect to say we were a conceptual art group that encouraged "happenings" and "pushed the envelope" of publicly acceptable discourse and satire.... but actually we just wanted to get drunk and act like rock stars (much like the Ramones, another very good band.)

Thursday, September 26, 2002

Nice Claudia memory. Since everyone wore black back then, it's refreshing to imagine her with some additional color. I bet she'll always remember you. Who were the members of Final Curtain?

Final Curtain went thru 3 bass players; John Smith, Jeff Campbell, and Ric Milhorn.

Jeff left Johnson City and pursued Keroac's dream by driving an 18 wheeler around the country. He was an enthusist of the work of sci fi author Harlan Ellison and once told me that he had met Mr. Ellison, as I recall at a Sci Fi convention. He existence was last confirmed by Rob Bacon, who was a singer in a poser band I don't remember the name of, and I last saw Robbie as the bailiff in the court I worked led him off to jail.

Ric went on to be a very well respected drug and alcohol rehab counseler, and now lives in the land of cheese. Prior to leaving J.C., he was also involved as the Tennessee Investigator for M.U.F.O.N., the "Mutual UFO Network."

Now John claims a UFO experience......COINCIDENCE?????????

Good Lord has this blog become a snoozefest!! Taoism? Christian realism? (Isn't that an oxymoron?) Since when did this become a theological forum? Time for old SPAM to jump out of his can and declare "Fuck that shit...PABST BLUE RIBBON!!" We dont want philosphical debate, we want DIRT! And Uncle Spam can dish it, oh yees. So, without further ado, lets kick start this bitch!
I remember Claudia! And I have a Claudia story! And its good! Would I lie?
It seems that one fine spring afternoon in 19XX, myself and one Christopher (Ugly Ugly) Slaughter were driving around town in search of some new kind of kick, when, through circumstances too involved (not to mention embarrassing) to go into here, I had my right arm ripped open to the bone by a piece of safety glass. Geez, it hurt! (I still have the scar.) So Chris is driving me to the emergency room (kind of him, no?) and I'm holding a towel to my arm, trying in vain (pun only partially intended) to stem the bleeding, and all the while he's yelling at me not to bleed on his car. We stop at a red light (at the train tracks where Tennessee St. meets State of Franklin Rd. if you care) when a car pulls up behind us and a young lady gets out. It's Claudia! Seems her and some of her Milligan cronies were putting on a production of "Sister Mary Ignatius Explains It All For You" and she was portraying the titular role. (Catholic bashing: Always in style...and thats a SHOOT, brutha!) So to make a long story short (who said "Too late?") Claudia does one of those "stop at a red light and run over to your friends car" kind of things to ask us to come to the show. "Well, we kind of had an accident." Chris informed her. "Oh, are you alright?" she asked, obviously concerned with Chris (He's a rock star, y'know) and only marginally aware of my presence. This was about to change. Chris's reply was something like, "Sure, I'm fine. But my friend here got banged up a bit." and with that, I held my arm out the window, sending great splashes of bright red arterial blood flying over Claudias face and body. She made a noise like a deer caught in a hunters trap, and then Chris and I sped away. My last sight of her was standing in the middle of the road covered in my blood, looking for all the world like Sissy Spacek in the prom night scene from "Carrie". Only standing in traffic.
Yep. Good times.

Doug: would be interested in hearing your experiences. I think I saw a UFO once, but I don't know, so maybe I didn't. When I tell people about it, they say I must've been hallucinating. It flew over my car, in Cherokee Hills, J.C. Couldn't have been a plane---was only a ball of light, gold, not white like a comet or star either. Just a circular, gold ball that flew fast across the sky, as high as a plane, but not as high as a star. I don't know what I saw. The whole concept is creepy to me, but also believable. My boyfriend, Tom, sometimes thinks he's been abducted. Sometimes I think we both have. You gotta' wonder. It's either the biggest hoax on earth, or an incredibly large truth and conspiracy that radically changes people, sort of like Jesus. I just like the idea of distinct lines between good and evil, and when things get confusing, I want safety.

Wednesday, September 25, 2002

Brook: Keith Fields would be able to explain them better. One of them involved camping on Buffalo Mtn. and seeing a UFO, then also, he said, he and his friends heard scratching on the outside walls of their tent, followed by "someone" or "something" picking up the whole tent, shaking it, and putting it down. He has another story about being at home and papers on his desk blowing around the room when there were no windows or doors open. And his dog went crazy, barking. He told me others too which, not surprisingly, I've forgotten. What, exactly, would his having had a UFO encounter explain for you? Why such curiosity?
By the way, Bill informed me that Warren Zevon has terminal, inoperable cancer. I'm not exactly a Warren Zevon fan---but sad story.

Monday, September 23, 2002

Bill: you may be right about more prudes than four. I think this other woman named Claudia (name just came to me right this second---weird) was also in that group. I have no idea who played the bongos.

(I know Brook doesn't censor. I'm at work though and don't want anyone here to see what terrible language I'm prone to using.)

FYI: Speaking of degrees of separation--and thanks, Brook, for turning me on to that film (six degrees of...)---found out today that a certain state lawmaker who supports a lottery amendment (Cohen) is also good friends with Warren Zevon.

Bill: Have never been to Cimmeron, N.M. Sounds spicey----like a transformational experience.

Spam: Am curious what a mayonnaise farm looks like.

Bill: Members of the "F****ing Prudes" are: Sarah Cummins (who now lives in Knoxville, is married to a Botany professor, and has 3 kids---we were good friends "back in the day" but I haven't seen her in five or so years); Tracy Cosgrove (now Tracie Fields, whose husband, Keith, has had some extremely wild extra-terrestrial encounters, I kid you not, that give me the creeps to think about); Angie Street (now living in Atlanta, I think), and Kathy Hubbard (also living in Atlanta, but Ditty may know more about that.) For all I know, Reinhold Neibuhr was a member of the Helion Shoe Shine Riders. One would hope a good Christian would also know how to properly “shake it”.... Maybe he could be compared to Jessco White, the Dancing Outlaw.

Lisa: Sounds like you know more about Reinhold Neibuhr than I do at this point! He was definitely a “Christian realist”, nearly an existentialist similar to Kierkegaard. I also read stuff by his brother, Richard, who was similar in terms of his concern about juxtaposing what is spiritual with what is “cultural/real”. When I was 18, my soccer playing boyfriend at the time gave me a book by him as a gift--I guess he thought I’d like to do some additional heavy reading outside of class. Funny now to think of all that stuff---being 18, dating a soccer player, and getting into Christian existentialist thought.

I think one of the eternal great mysteries of the ‘80’s in J.C. is Bleu Jackson. I wonder if he still wears those berets? I never knew if the “funky” spelling of his name simply reflected his fondness for a particular salad dressing, or his penchant for all things French. A Parisien (notice the ‘e’) bluesman......hmm....He and my brother graduated high school together and were good friends....they love to tell me this story about having some kind of fake vomit they would throw on the floor so they could get out of class. How true that was, I don’t know. Did the toy industry make fake vomit in the mid-60’s? If so, how did it shape the cultural landscape? Now there’s a theological question.

Sunday, September 22, 2002

Hmmmmmmmm, well We were in Jeff Gold's Mysticism class with a bunch of hippies, who for some reason thought I was an irritating smartass (I know, it's had to imagine where they might have gotten that idea!) One day while Jeff was going over the concept of detachment as it related to Taoism, he asked if anyone had a western example. After a pregnant silence, with hippies stareing into space, I said "Shane", referring to the western movie. The hippies erupted with their usual wrath, when Donnie, and others, jumped to my defense, pointing out that the storyline of "Shane" did meet the criteria. Perhaps I was wrong on you being there, or which side you took!!

As I recall I needed the class as an elective for my major, while most of the rest of us were there because we thought it might involve Voodoo.

Bill -- "Shane," taoist detachment -- is this Jesus on the Cross, Jesus off the Cross?

Good band name -- Stinkin' of Liquor.

Saturday, September 21, 2002

Speaking of Bleu Jackson. When I played bass in his band, I remember we played Jonesboro days. Dan Hinton on guitar, Phil Leonard on drums, Brian DuBoise on harp, Bleu and me. The next day we met at QB's to split the take. It was $200 or $250 or something like that-- not chump change for someone who worked at the Firehouse BBQ like myself. Anyway, the whole band is sitting there splitting a pitcher when Bleu shows up. "Guys, I got paid but I rode my motorcycle home-- and the check must have blown out of my pocket". Don't know if he was lying or not -- all I know is I never saw a dime. Such was life as a white-boy blues man.

Friday, September 20, 2002

I just tripped over some Reinhold Neibuhr recently- a "neo-orthodox" or "Christian realist" theologian, his is a complicated story. He was a liberal protestant during the Progressive era, then became an isolationist after WWI. Then he did this "Christian realist" thing because communism had failed and the nazis were evil, so a "realistic Christian" had only the choice of the lesser of evils. His pessimism was an influence on John Dos Passos, mark 2, and James Gould Cozzens, expounding on maturity as the ability to live in an imperfect, ironic world...but it can be read as an apology for apathy, too. Is my source on the mark, Julie?

Could that show be the one where Blue knocked over my congas at the Down Home?? yeah, Mike and I were doing a Bros. Ugh show & he knocked it over when we were loading it up and it rolled down the hill. I could a killed 'em, but hey, I am sure he doesn't remember it. Spam, You easily entertained one, Rob and I are debating your secret identity. Elvis rules! Hey Bloggers, EME is going to be on Studio One program LIVE on public radio@ 1:00 on Sat. Oct. 12. Check us out. We won't be doing" Elvis"but here's a chance to tune in.

Thursday, September 19, 2002

I won't get around to getting Blue Jackson kicked out of Chucky Trading Company until I first report how we embezzeled 3 weeks of rehersal time at the Community Theatre, ignored the NO ALCOHOL AT THE THEATER rule, spent more time coming up with a name than in writing our entire first set, managed to get 7 people on stage at the Down Home (including a bass player dressed for some reason as a gangster), made it snow inside the Down Home, made a huge pile of money for Phil Leonard, and got ourselves kicked out of Down Home. Then, and only then, can we explain how we, with the assistence of the DCI, got Blue Jackson kicked out of Chucky Trading Company. After that we can move on to getting ourselves kicked out of Chucky, returning to Down Home, getting kicked out again, and all of that will be easier than explaining how we got kicked out of Down Home on a night we were not playing, and most of us were not even there....

Julie: I don't know if I've met you or not. But any friend of Brook's..... say, have you ever been to Cimmeron, New Mexico????

The Former First Dog should be named "Enronworldcomdesertercowardcokeheaddrunkardlyingpretzelchokeabortioncauserconstituionignoringshadowgovernmentwhineyass-
secondplaceinfloridaunlessmybrotherdoesthecountfuckface", but we could just call him "Kenny Boy"

Remeber in 2004, Re Elect Gore!

by the way, I would be interested in hearing stories of how other bands came up with names, or actually more interesting to me would be a list of names rejected on the way. We have some dandies, which I hope to share soon. Perhaps Spam could help me with this....

And finally I need to write sometime about how the movie "Shane" became a metaphor for Taoist detachment and why I owe a big thanks to Brook, Donnie, Heather and John for coming to my defense on that occasion.....

mr chompers -- the first dog of the democratic party NEEDS to be named Mr. Chompers!

Julie: I should SAY your etiquette is bad. How DARE you interrupt our Smirnoff-and-seconal soaked rantings with your coherent narrative, intelligence, and obvious insight. For shame! Quick, grab a bong and turn on Springer before its too late!! There may yet be hope.

Brook, there were eight issues of PST. I cant believe you've saved so many...I only have three.(Nos. 2, 4, and 7) I've since been informed that "P.K. Eckleberg" is actually the name of a character from "The Great Gatsby". I do not actually know if this is true, since as you may know I NEVER LEARNED TO READ! (Sobs uncontrollably)

Snf. "Macbett" is a play by surrealist/dadaist/whateverist Eugene ("Rhinocerous") Ionesco. It is supposed to be an absurdist version of "Macbeth". The thing utterly tanked. I'm not sure if the blame falls upon the script or the production, but the final result was so incredibly fucking tooth-gnashingly horrible that its kinda difficult to care.

Bill! You're killing me! First you steal my Heather story, then you become the official FINAL CURTAIN historian. (Oooh ooh tell 'em about how we got Bleu Jackson and Co. kicked the hell out of Chucky Trading Company! Arguably our finest hour.).

Doug: Okay, you GOTTA play it now!! And you gotta have the spring-loaded Elvii inside the styrofoam pyramids. Hahahahahaha! I love it! I am easily entertained!

John Smith is God. Its true its true.

So I hear on NPR Bill Clinton has a new dog, and he's turned to us, the great unwashed masses, to help him think of a name! I would like to officially suggest "Spot"...HAW!... And thats the chime telling me its time for morning meds. Ciao, my little peppermint candy children.

Bill: I can't remember (the memory problem again) who all was in the Fucking Prudes. One of them, I believe, was Kathy Hubbard. I'm not even sure of her last name. I'll have to ask Debby Patten---who links me to my memory of that time period on a regular basis. We have considered getting all the Milligan crowd together again for a reunion, and I believe those guys would be involved. As to your comment about Christianity, thanks for the response, and I agree. And your name is very familiar to me. I'm sure I've met you, just don't remember how/when. I'm sorry.

Wednesday, September 18, 2002

Julie: I don't think Tinglehoff gave all Christians a bad name. I consider myself of the Christian faith, and he had no effect on me what-so-ever (though arguably I have given myself a bad name from the christian perspective.) Foaming at the mouth charismatic/fundementalists are as representative of Christianity as Shite fundementalists are to Islam, or as Rush Limbaugh is to rational thought.

As to The Fucking Prudes, I thought they were the most amazingly cool thing I had ever seen, and would pay good money to see a reunion show.

I just read a lot of the back entries to this site, which I hadn’t really done, so I didn’t know some of you had written. Looks like I just plopped myself right down in the middle of stuff without really considering the etiquette of it all. My apologies.
It is strange for me to write about my own knowledge and experiences in the eighties because my memory is really horrible. I catch glimpses of things, but little of it really connects, which is the case for much of the past for me. I attended college in Chicago, where I had an entirely different set of experiences, then I would travel home and enter into the J.C. scene at very random times and places. The college I went to, Wheaton, was/is a Christian college, and students weren’t allowed to do the following: dance, drink, smoke, or have sex with anyone of either gender at any time other than within the context of marriage. At the same time, it was a highly academic, liberal arts environment. It wasn’t Bob Jones, in other words. So--I’d go up north and study theologians like Carl Barth and Reinhold Neibhur, and study constantly, then come down to Johnson City and find myself engaging in all manner of sin. Obviously, it was a confusing time for me. I have my regrets.
In many ways, I was intimidated by the whole J.C. scene. It expanded my mind at the time though, and in retrospect now, I’m glad it did. All of you have got to be the most intelligent, creative, unique bunch I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.
Another note - for the Milligan students who went to Nightmare’s shows, there was this heightened sense of----this is SO WILD. We probably consumed more alcohol than anyone else--staying true to the stereotype that, when Christians screw up, they do it larger than everyone else and without forethought. Does anyone remember the Fucking Prudes? All Milligan students.
When Dialogue was going on, which I do remember, I was mainly in Chicago. During Iran/Contra, a lot of Wheaton students, myself included, were active at a south american cafe/store in the city called The Heartland. All contributions went to support the Sandinistas.
I remember the Acid Cows, John. “Is there life after death or are there beaches in Arkansas?” I once knew all the lyrics.
Well, that’s it from here. I think I’ve offered about all that’s really reasonable for me personally. I wish all of you the very best---always.

Re: The Nightmare's Last Show at the Down Home - the first "last show" I mean... If Kurt hasn't ripped it off from me, I still have a tape of it that Phil gave me. I also have tapes from the first Nightmare show at the Down Home. And the New Year's Eve show when Mark Ryalls sang "I want to rock and roll all night" at midnight. Phil even added echo effects to the last word of each verse Mark sang. Drove me "craaaazy!"

Brooke, I have a buncha PSTs too - I'm not sure (I'll have to look) but I may even have #1. Lots of flyers and posters, etc., crammed in a folder somewhere in the basement, too.

Peace, y'all.... Kurt's Mom

Tuesday, September 17, 2002

The lost posting of Bill from a week ago (that got me scolded for being on AOL) went into the Grease band history. George Mactee (later of MacBett) ran into me in the fall of 1984. He was of the understanding that I was a mature young man that could be trusted to get a band together for his production of Grease (he was not the last director to intrust me with a position of responsibility in a play...see Chris's earlier comments re: Dracula.) I barely knew anything about playing the guitar, but knew someone who did. Frank Spangler agreed to help, but only on the condition that he enlist some guys from Andy Boy/Acid Cows; John (God) Smith and Donnie Poole. This was then the make up of "Five Neat Guys." The play was generally panned (this was when the J.C. and Kingsport papers reviewed plays) but the band was reviewed well, one reviewer even called us "the all too good rock and roll band." This would become the core that would become Final Curtain, and start the downward descent of East Tennessee culture in general......

more later!!

John, I'm still waiting on a copy of the John Smith is God Newsletter!!!!

Not all andy boy... just parts of andy boy. I think the lineup was Frank, Roland, Bill and me but I could be mistaken. This is the band that went on to form the core of Final Curtain. Even some of the Final Curtain songs were stolen from Grease songs. There was some song about governent cheese(not the band) that was a grease tune.

So far, Bill gets my vote for best Heather encounter!

My first encounter was when she strolled up to our tables and loudly announced over the music: "You know Tony, you're really loud!"
"Well thanks, Heather!" I said over the music, in basically my normal voice.
She scrunched her face for a second, then said, "Wait! That wasn't a complement!"
I replied with a big smile: "I know!"
She shook her hair slightly, looked at me the way exasperated mothers look at their mud-soaked four year old, and walked away. She was soooo cute.

Hiya, John. I miss the skiffle period. It did seem, for awhile, that every time I saw a band you were in it. I thought it was just weird deja-vu. Was Andy Boy the stage band for Grease? That's reaching-back into the fringes for me. It seems like Greese was some-kind of catalyst to the music around here. Any validity to my little hypothesis? (he said arching his eyebrow and pulling at his stubbly chin).

So, Doug. What would you take for that ten pound bag of religious pamphlets?

Don't mean to interrupt a conversation, but just want to say, in regard to Marty Tinglehoff, it's highly unfortunate, but usually is the case, that those who most mis-represent and bring defamation upon a belief system, institution, way of life, are those who receive the most attention and publicity. Sometimes I wonder what that says about us--the human race. Sorry if this type is really large--can't find a way to change it.

Strange to say, but.....I can't remember old "whats her names" name. So I wont say until I am sure.

OOOOOHHHHHH GOD! Marty Tinglehoff. I once attended one of his anti-rock propiganda/brain wash fests at that "charismatic" church on the Kingsport highway. He first greeted all of us "rockers" as a "friend" and told me he didn't mind if I was wearing a Judas Priest t-shirt. However, about mid cermon (an hour in) he's ranting at the top of his voice, in real fire and brimstone form, and says "and you have the gaaaaaauuuullllla to wear thear t-shirt into this house of worship!" A real class act he was. Heard he was caught imbezeling from the church some time ago. HHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

Elvis In The Pyramid was great. EME always made me laugh. Wow Doug, I'd love to see some of the old flier. They are a great reflection of the bands and the times. Some were flashy with a lot of thought, while others were cranked out in five minutes. They seemed to go through stylized phases too. I also agree with Doug on the Weekly Beat. It was a good area mag.

Monday, September 16, 2002

Yes there was a MacBett. In the program to it, I was thanked for quitting it. George Mactee directed it, and Roland Tester was in it. I don't recall anyone else.... so while it may have been the drugs, they were not halluciniginic (which are known to cause poor spelling.) It starred a guy named Scott Snell, who was a regular at the Community Theatre at the time, and may still be.

I have been meaning to mention the first time I remember meeting Heather, although I may have met her before then, was at the first Final Curtain show at the Down Home. We had spent a total of 5 minutes writing a song called "Tinglehoff Blues" which was about Kingsport's own Anti-Rock and Roll Preacher, Marty Tinglehoff. Although quickly written (it consisted of and E chord followed by and A chord, repeat until bored) it took about 45 minutes to preform, as it's lyrics were a free form rant by Bruce (and we all know how good he is at that.) Anyway, about 15 minutes into the song I was bored and walked off the stage to get a beer. We had about 3 guitarists, so the abscence of one was rarely noticed. About the time I got tired of mingling with the audience and went back to the stage, Heather took the Mic from Bruce and started chanting:"The Devil's in my uterus...He's yours Marty! He's yours!!"

question -- how many issues of PST were there? I have numbers 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 and half of a cover-less one with 63 Eyes and Freak Circus interviews. I am totally loving the letter from Dr. Eckleburg and bruce's response ("i hate to censor anyone, even a psuedo-intellectual maggot such as yourself... ")!

another question -- was it the drugs, or did I attend a production of a take-off on Macbeth called MacBett at the johnson city community theater featuring some of you theater-types. was it good?

Excellent Tony, I'm glad someone else remembers the SNAG party. I'm not sure what was more ironic,, the complete apathy with which Frankie received the title, or the look on Ralph's face when Vickie voted for Frank....... ah, the memories flow like Tuborg at a hockey game.......

Ok Bruce, I want to do "Elvis in the Pyramids" and others too. I will try to get 'em to do it again. It always got the crowd going and I have to construct some more of those "pyramid" props we had at the Venus show where we trashed the place with broken styrofoam. That was the show we gave out potted meat products, condoms and a 10 Lb bag of religious pamphlets. Besides your PST, I thought the weekly Beat was great too.

"Who is Spam Ramsley? The son of itinerant steelworkers, Spam was born on a freeway and raised on a mayonnaise farm in Incest County, Kentucky. With a pen in one hand and a bong in the other, Spam fights a never ending battle for Truth, Justice, and lower beer taxes!
What was PST? PST was an idea that never really came together. PST was a journal of the local music scene. PST was the desperate attempt of a frustrated writer/artist/musician/actor/you-name-it to do get noticed. Um, you might want to forget that last part.
If you're REALLY interested in PST (and why would you be?) head over to and click on the PSYCHIC SEX TURNIP link. Much mind drool is located there. And BTW Doug...why wont you guys play ELVIS IN THE PYRAMIDS anymore?. Hm?
Damn I love that song."

Tony, you are right about the computing power. Hell, probably not enough to compute the number of bands I was in - Bass player is synomous with music whore me thinks. I have considered creating a database to do just that. Sort of the six degrees of separation kind of thing. I know I’m one degree removed from Johnny Carson having played with the old tonight show band drummer Ed Shaughnessy. Check this shit out

How about those burns!

What about the fact that we are all once removed from GG Allen via Johnny Puke? Now that’s fucking scary!

On the JC thing: Having played in all sorts of shit-hole college towns, I must say that JC was/is unique. Not that there were not other towns with good scenes but that JC had one. People were so crazy for music. I knew tons of people back then who looked forward to playing JC just for the crowd response.

james hensley..."there's a certain girl i've been in love with a long, long, time. what's her name? i can't remember. awwww"

Feathers seem to ruffle easily in here. Anyway...

Not all that long ago in a galaxy right on top of us, we gathered at the round table during yet another happy hour. There was much joking and goofing and wondering who would be first to spit beer out their nose. Somehow the talk got onto 'the sensitive guy' of the eighties. Bill expanded on this theme by coining the acronym SNAG (Sensitive New-Age Guy), which really sent our tiny male kill-or-be-killed brains into fight or flight mode. Finally, in an attempt to learn by example, we asked the ladies to just point out the most sensitive guy in the pub. To a woman they all named Franky! You can imagine the difficulty our how-can-I-get-laid/are-you-going-to-eat-that brains were having comprehending this. Just as a control in this little experiment, we polled the rest of the women in the pub, making a total sample of about nine or ten, including those at our table. ALL chose Franky. The next day it was made official when the owner put this phrase on the Quarterback's marquis: HOME OF MR. SENSITIVE.

Doug: Psychic Sex Turnip.


Sunday, September 15, 2002

Holy bat-gerbil! The way you guys have been talking about PST you'd think someone actually read it or something. Why couldn't you guys have gotten so interested then, instead of just thumbing through and looking for your names.

From the Horses Mouth:
TCoker: I NEVER made any money from PST. It was just a happy coincidence that stemmed from the fact my girlfriend at the time's best friends Dad (take notes, there will be a quiz afterward) ran a print shop, and was willing to print the damn thing for free. Meanwhile, I found myself living next door to fine graphic artist in the form of Christopher Slaughter (Hi Ugly!) who was only too happy to let me exploit---that is, use his fine work in my publication. I also cannot credit Johnny Puke enough. Yes, he was an asshole (Man Howdy!!) but who knew he was also one hell of a writer? Check out his interview with the Bar-B-Que killers where he and the band get kicked out of the club theyre playing for smoking pot. (One of the band members just kept pacing and repeating "Man, our shits in there!" It's priceless!) His interviews, reviews, and general do-it-yourself attitude were instrumental.

Bill: You might wanna check the dosage on that Paxil scrip, bro...I quit doing the zine because the girl at the print store got wise and decided to start CHARGING me (shudder).
To all you whippersnappers out there this was way before the age of desktop insta-publishing, and printing cost beaucoup bucks. Since lots of people wanted to READ the zine but no one actually wanted to PAY for it...I would have kept it up as long as it could pay for itself. No offshore banking. Not that I wouldn't have spent the money if I could have made it.

UglyUgly: Actually my exact words were "childish" and "embarrassing" in reaction to your and Pukes little dog and pony show. I also distinctly remember telling Johnny " you are so full of shit its a wonder you dont squeak when you walk." I dont know
what that means, but I really havent seen or heard anything since to disprove it.

Good luck with the blog! Doing something like this is pretty thankless work, so respect to all of youse guys. I was there! I know names! I seen it all! I swear I'm not drunk!!

Tony Coker: My point wasn't that JC was the ONLY town with a fringe in modern times (no need to wax pedantic about Athens, dude...) My point was that the JC "scene" existed ALSO but isn't as widely known, and deserves to be, every bit as much.

As for senility, I'd have to agree with you.

No Bill, I'm not saying that. Bruce said that.

Doug: I concur. The Stinky Finger 'joke' (as it began) was hysterical, unique and entertaining. But I was glad too see them team up with guys like you in EME (among others) who helped them round out their performances. They were just too creative and talented to stay in joke-mode forever.

Here's another "Dracula" story. As Bill pointed out, the final scene was played in the dining room amongst the audience. On our last show, myself (as Dr. Seward), Bruce (as young Jonathan Harker), and an actor who's name I can't remember (as Dr. Van Helsing) had made our way through the catacombs (which was the kitchen) and were standing at the coffin of the hideous creature (Franky) as it lay surrounded by a bunch of overdressed, slightly lit senior citizens. In the hushed silence I deliver my line: "Harker, hand me the hammer and stake."

Harker: "I thought you brought the hammer and stake. Wait here, I'll go get it!"

So Van Helsing and I were left to ad-lib while Bruce raced back through the kitchen, rattling some pots and pans, and started tearing the prop room apart looking for the huge wooden mallet and sharpened stake. What we didn't know was that the props couldn't be found and he and Bill were desperately trying to come up with a substitute. I was about ready to begin clearing tables when Bruce finally showed up with the new props, and for the first time in history Dracula was destroyed with a broken pool cue and a ball-peen hammer.

So Coker,,,, what you are saying is that Bruce did not stop PST because it wasn't making money, only that it wasn't making enough money to pay for it's own printing once access to free printing disappeared. In other words, it was not profitable. Like you, I admired Bruce for his love of the J.C, scene and his dedication to it's nurturing via PST. I thought it was great and looked forward to it's publication each whenever, and like you I contributed articles to it. I agree that Bruce never wrote it for the money,,, it was always a chore to pry 50 cents from a college student at a bar on quarter beer night when he was selling it.......In addition Bruce paid his dues the first time Final Curtain played at "The Village of Pub Venus Out Back" We were the first band to play there that did not write it's set list by alternating Lynard Skynard and Molly Hatchet covers ("so it don't get boring.") We were warmly recieved by rednecks that occupied the place, who lauded the arrival of the Alt./punk scene by throwing glass ashtrays, as well as a half pitcher of beer at us. Their applause included comments on our music, family lineage, and our house pets as I recall. Quite the scarey evening. Final Curtain at the time was Bruce, John Smith, Roland Tester, Myself, and Wayne Winkler of all people making his only appearence with us. I think Frank was there too, but I don't remember if he was still in the band. There was a table of construction workers there that had a couple of black guys at it with 3 or 4 of the biggest white guys I had ever seen and our show brought a great feeling of racial harmony to the room as they put aside thier differences long enough to all hate us. This was, and remains, the worst show we ever did, and my personal least favorite.

Saturday, September 14, 2002

T.cOKER, what I meant was that we were the first band to back them as a "band" instead of two nasty rappers. That was fun! great show.

I'm not sure I get the Bush/Enron/PST connection, but I do know what Bruce told me. He never made more than pocket change from the magazine, he was putting it out because he enjoyed it. He was good at it, too. It became a community publication, with all kinds of people contributing material.

Speaking of Bruce, he is one of the few people I remember meeting, mostly because of the circumstances. A bunch of us were packed into a huge 70s era Chevy looking to crash a formal dinner being hosted by the ETSU music department. There was this kid, and I mean kid, getting us all stoned. I asked his name and when Lisa Dockery heard it she cries out "Your Bruce Honeycutt!" Turns out she used to baby-sit him. She was really tickled by the whole thing. We crashed the party, got chased around by a bald guy in a tux, and ended up hiding in a tiny men's room. Ah, glory days.

Oops, silly me, I keep trying to subtract expenses from revenue to determine wheather an enterprize is profitable. Who would have dreamed that printing costs could be considered an expense. Perhaps Bruce should have spun off "PST Printing" as an off shore company in order to hide this cost of running a paper. By using the Harken Oil accounting system, PST could still be publishing. This Enron style accounting the conservatives extoll sure is handy!!!! No wonder the economy is doing so well under George Bush's visionary leadership!!!!!

Dyslexics of the World Untie!!!

D.Hilliard: Sorry dude. Stinky was never 'given a start' by any band; they were born at an 'Open-Hoot'. They were horrific, they were vulgar, they were unforgetable. With each lyric they passed a two-headed dildo back and forth like a baton in a perverted relay race. The PACKED house hooted, howled and became part of the show. That is a rarity in any part of the country. Middle Earth is cool, but Johnny and Chris were self-starters.

Well Alan...Surfboard was written by Kurt for the Nightmares and they played it for quite a while. We picked it up as a laugh, to poke some fun at the Nightmares (with Kurts blessing) and made it something else. What's Her name....We did a song by that name in Buck Fifty and the Longnecks, is that what you're thinking of?
Tony: Yes...JCs "scene" history isn't any different than any other town. However, it is ours. The difference would be a historical documentation of the people and events. Christy's documentary shows the story of one town and one band. The overall appeal is that people in many many towns could watch it and see thear town/bands/friend/scene in the film. Besides, it's fun. So blog to your hearts content.

Friday, September 13, 2002

Who the hell are you people? I've lived in JC since 1981 and have never heard of any of you! Except for those Burt/Sam guys that Edwards keeps talking about. I actually had a class with them at ETSU, but back then they called themselves Say-id. It was a theater class! Those guys were thirty if they were a day! Why in the hell are thirty-year-old Iranian/Jordanian/Turk/Saudis taking a theatre class? My ass.

Edwards: Bruce didn't quit the mag because it wasn't profitable. He quit because he lost access to a free printing company via his girlfriend's best friend. Once the friend became, shall we say 'disenchanted' with Bruce she cut him off. A kind of six-degrees-of-mooching gone wrong. After that he folded like a cheap umbrella in a monsoon. Too bad.

Hey. John Smith guy. There isn't enough computing power at NOAA to resolve the intricate musician/band relationships spanning the period 1982 - 1994. Hell, I was Stinky Finger's manager for three years and didn't even know it!

E.Williams: Tell our stories before we get senile? If I get any more senile I'll be wetting my pants and calling the landlord "mommy". I can't agree that one needs to travel back in time to find a JC-like 'fringe' society. That scene was great, but hardly unique. I moved here from Athens, GA. In spite of the size of UGA, Athens was a small town, every bit as small as Johnson City still is. I saw the B-52s at the 'Hole In The Wall' just at the edge of downtown Athens (think 'Highlander' re:JC). They played in the basement of a space-for-rent building; no windows and a single glass door with the name stenciled on it. Most of the cool small towns I have ever visited/lived-in had one thing in common: a university. I think the combination of small town/university is a kind of oasis where misfits gather to bathe in the waters. Some are enlivened. Some drown. It sure beats hell out of the surrounding desert.

Anybody wanna make odds on D.Poole (a computing guru) actually getting involved in this? How about Christy? She could probably raise an eyebrow or two.

Infidels unite!

Ok, so earlier tonight I wrote a comprehensive history of Final Curtain from the summer of 1979 thru the fall of 1984. It was entertaining and included the phrases "I hold Greg responsible" and "My Sister's Had Two Operations." Then when I hit enter to post it, my Mac decided to log me off AOL, and it was forever lost.....

When I get a chance I'll write it again...

Until then, be excellent to one another.

Thursday, September 12, 2002

A Nitemare List.

This is a list I compiled the day after the Nitemares' last show at the Down Home. Some are titles and some are lyric snippets cuz I don't know the title. Those songs are signified by ellipses. If I'm not sure of a title, it is between two question marks.

If it is a cover and I know the band I added that in brackets. If I think it's a cover but don't know the original performer, I put a question mark in the brackets.
Please let me know if there is a song listed as original below but is actually a cover (plus who orginally performed it).

A brain dump. In no particular order.

Can't Touch An Angel
The Letter [The Box Tops]
Parish (I Love You But You Are a Bitch)
What's Her Name [??]
Brick House [Commodores]
Look the Other Way
California Sun [Eddie Cochran, Ramones]
Summertime Blues [Eddie Cochran]
Born to be Wild [Steppenwolf]
Truckin' [Grateful Dead]
Listen to the Rain
Whip It [Devo]
She Thinks I Still Care [George Jones]
Nash County Turnaround
Forget About You
Desperate Hyway
Stephanie (aka Mary Ellen)
Primitive Rose
Stagger Lee - [Lloyd Price? Grateful Dead? B. Relleva?]
These Boots Were Made for Walkin' [Nancy Sinatra - I think Brian got the idea from the Movie "Full Metal Jacket"]
Little Bit of You
Shakin' All Over [Johnny Kidd & the Pirates]
Johnny B. Goode [Chuck Berry]
Get Out Baby (aka Get Out Commie)
Lawnmower Man
I Wanna Rock n' Roll All Night [Kiss]
Tear It Up [??]
Rave On [Buddy Holly]
Eye of the Tiger [Survivor]
...Sometimes good guys don't wear white... [??]
Matchbox Blues [Blind Lemon Jefferson]
Matchbox Blues - I remember Brian turning this into something entirely different.
Jackson Square
House Built Around...
Easy Way Out
Lizard Song
Goin' Nowhere (Bored Games)
Think About It, Dream On, Look Back & Remember [Freak Circus]
Last Train to Clarksville [The Monkees]
99 1/2 [Wilson Pickett]
I'll Go Crazy [James Brown]
Hush [Deep Purple]
?Cat Song?
?Ain' Gonna Worry No More?
...leave your balls on the Christmas tree...
Close Down the Honky Tonk
Good Friends
Paint It Black [Rolling Stones]
Jumpin' Jack Flash [Rolling Stones]
She's a Surfboard Now [Stinky Finger]
She's So Tall
Surrounding Me
?Shovelhead Wilson?
When Your Heart Gets Ripped in 2
Please Come Out & Play
Across the Red Man's Land
Buy a Garden
Ain't Your Steppin' Stone [Monkees]
Lost Hyway
Ramblin' Man [Hank Williams]
Kabul Stomp
?a Scott Pleasant Song?
Route 66 [Bobby Troupe, Nat King Cole, The Stones]
?a song where Kurt plays slide guitar?
?Hope That You'll Remember Me?
Jonesboro Woman
Somethin' Else [Eddie Cochran]
Trippin' [Stinky Finger]
"...look straight ahead... ?a train song?
New Kind of Kick [The Cramps]
Brown Eyed Girl [Van Morrison]
Train Song (?Stand Still? State of Mind)

hey everybody. hey doug. to answer your questions... i don't think anyone is in an old folks home... a blog is a publishing tool... and the original idea for this blog is to swap [old] stories and ALSO provide a place to chat about current stuff. please feel free to post regarding past and present...

all i ask of fellow bloggers is to play nice and be courteous. don't make me come over there.

Monday, September 09, 2002

This weekend I was just remembering meeting Lynne Youngquist for the first time, in the bathroom at the Down Home of course. We were talking about the fact that she is of Swedish descent. She said the only Swedish phrase she knew was "Tvec! Tvec! Der sprechen der thoime! (sp?)", which, when translated, means "Take it away! Take it away! It's as big as a thermos!" I still laugh uncontrollably when I think of that.

Sunday, September 08, 2002

Yes Lisa....pre Iran Contra, and no not an un-pc question. Electric Middle Earth.....glad to see ya'll are still kickin'. Hope the show goes well. Hope all had a smash of a labor day. It's good to see some more bloggers. Hey....some one tell Donnie about this damn thing, and everyone else we know. Will blog again soon.

Friday, September 06, 2002

Hello bloggers,
ahhh, the 80's. I thought Quarterbacks,the Pub Outback were my favorite places to play and of course Down Home, where sooooo many of us got our starts. Hi, I am Doug from ELECTRIC MIDDLE EARTH, anybody out there remember us? Well, we are still kicking and playing at BUCK'S PIZZA on Tues.Sept.10th @ 10-1 and VITO's Sept.Fri. the 13th. I remember playing shows with Floyd Eats Mayberry,also Beat Your MOther with a Putrid Herring. Here is a little known fact for ya... FYI..We were the first band to give STiNKY fINGER their start. In fact, we backed them up at a show where they opened for us at Pub Outback. This was when it was Ugly,ugly and jOhnny Puke era. We were doing or psyhedelic stuff , very cool show. WE still do some of our old 80's standards plus lots of new music. Come out and see us. We would love to see you there.!

Thursday, September 05, 2002

I know, and I loved that show, as I did all of them.

It was a McDonalds. Of course we celebrate.

Tuesday, September 03, 2002

When the Nightmare's first got together, I was dating Kurt---sort of. We were at Ditty's house on Highland Ave., listening to Fables of the Reconstruction one day. I was probably preaching some sermon about how U2 was going to save the world, when the phone rang. It was some McDonald's representative asking Kurt if his band would play for the grand opening of the campus McD's. He said sure, hung up, and said, I just told them my band would play for this thing, and I don't have a band....well, there's this guy, Brian, who maybe could sing....I went to that first show. I remember watching a couple of little kids, toddlers, dance religiously on top of these milk crates. And I thought, do other towns celebrate with such zest the coming of a new McDonalds?

Freaky that I can work at a newspaper on a completely new computer system and still have trouble with the most basic of processes. Like using this damned publishing tool. And it seems just when I have something ready to go, I get interrupted by work. Referencing Lisa's description of Heather Berry from days and days ago---here is my description of when I first met her. My connection to the whole "Nightmares" scene was through many different paths---knowing Donnie and John since third grade (Kurt too), and Martin since tenth grade. Then also through my connections with Milligan College--when I went to school there for a semester and would go to Nightmare's shows with that crowd. Hope everyone had a good holiday.

The first time I met Heather Berry, we were both 17. Young. I worked in the guidance counselor’s office during my free period, and it was the first day of school at University High. Heather came into the office wearing her usual attire--long black skirt; hair comparably long and blue-black. She seemed acutely aware of her lips, covered with her staple ruby red lipstick, as she sat facing Mrs. Tiffany, answering questions and filling out paperwork. I was sitting to her right, knees to my chest, on a vinyl, cushioned green office chair, pretending to read but really glancing up from my book, staring at her, listening to the sound of her voice, dreamy. Through some purely subconscious adolescent process that I can only describe as skeletal, or muscular, visceral, I understood my own unquestioning obedience to rules. Heather made me extremely curious. Until that moment, I had never considered the possibility that I hadn’t yet lived.