When Guns N’ Roses Ruled Their World: 1989
I don’t know if it was something I did or said, but Axl never again called or gave me his phone number. I wasn’t officially blacklisted, and never had an issue getting show tickets and passes. Plus, whenever I ran into Axl, he never seemed unhappy to see me. We’d chat and get caught up […]
How to Start a Fire Using Hundred Dollar Bills: 1984
Barely a month after my chat with a top-ten all-time-great rock god, Ronnie James Dio, my lawyer called to report two of five opposing parties were offering to settle my lawsuit. For two hundred and fifty grand, all I needed to do was sign on the dotted line. I had planned on taking my case […]
Open G is The Best Tuning For Air Guitar: 1984
The outstanding Ian Gillian, of Deep Purple fame, banded together with Black Sabbath to put out a kick-ass metal record, Born Again. A few weeks into 1984, Mike and me went to enjoy that evil shit live at the Long Beach Arena. While waiting at the elevator, we ran into Mike’s buddy and fellow vocalist, […]
How I Gained a Whole New Perspective: 1981-82
And so, back to the real world to witness years fly by from a seated position. Pops’ newest house had a pool in the backyard, which my therapists thought was great. By simultaneously providing buoyancy and resistance, pool therapy is the best exercise for gimp fucks like me. In theory, one could float, swim, goof […]
How To Face Life Head First: 1980
Monday afternoon, I caught a downtown bus to grab my final paycheck. It was far less tense with Pops away, so I hung out long enough to burn a few bowls and shoot the shit with the kitchen guys. In case he had a spy, I didn’t mention to anyone that I was cutting out […]
Behind The Orange Curtain: 1980
A midnight drive south in Pops’ Lincoln Mark V delivered a far scruffier Raz back behind the Orange Curtain. We hadn’t spoken the entire – year and a half, six schools, and felony conviction – time I lived with Ma, so we spent three minutes catching up before the stern talk about his rules: “Right […]
A Fourteen-Year-Old Boy Has Great Plan: 1979-80
A day later, I sprang from Ma’s Kawasaki KZ 750 twin, semi-eager to enroll at my newest school. Ralph Waldo Emerson Junior High boasts several illustrious alumni, but a girl named Norma Jeane Baker attended decades before me and tops the list. South of the campus, a golden trumpeter sat atop the Mormon Temple, and […]
How Do I Start This Thing: 1965-74
February 1965 – a baby boy they called Rached entered this world ass-first, screaming like thunder. Not from the smack on my bottom, but because the doctor yanked me from a warm, moist environment I had grown quite fond of. My resistance to the world broke my fucking arm and I spent the first five […]