My Nephews

Joshua, after his 8th grade graduation
Peacock Beach, Richmond, Maine

Brandon & Kenny, before B's Purple Heart Ceremony
Walter Reed Army Medical Center, Washington, DC

Dan's Metal Memory of the Month: 6/07

On this day, nineteen years ago, I was standing in the dusty, oil-stained center of the Oxford Plains Speedway with thousands of other small town metalheads from Maine, New Hampshire, Vermont, New Brunswick, Quebec and beyond. The occasion: Monsters of Rock 1988! The M.O.R. line-up, as I recall, featured Van Halen, Scorpions, Metallica, Dokken and Kingdom Come. At the time, that seemed like a ticket worthy of $28.50 (+1 dollar for parking). I used to go there as a kid to watch the stock car races and "demolition derby," but hadn't been back for years. This concert took place just after graduation, so we all made a little pilgrimage upstate for one last spectacle together. Despite all the metal shows we'd been to prior to M.O.R., I'd never seen so much hair in one place. Although I love this MTV commercial for the tour, I don't remember seeing it. Wine coolers though, I do remember. I can't believe they still make those things - and people still drink them! Then again, 4 of the 5 bands that were headlining on 1988's M.O.R. are still touring, too. (I'd probably still buy a ticket for at least one of them.)

The Bummer Line: Year(s) of the Dog - the 1970s

When I came into the picture, the family house was dominated by women - my Mom, my two sisters, and the cats. Dad and Duke (our first dog - a beautiful, kind, patient German Shepard) were slightly outnumbered.

The day I was born, my Dad called my Grandfather Joseph from the hospital and told him, "It's a boy!" Grampy apparently dropped the phone and raced around the family business, shouting, "He finally put a tail on one!" (I think I know what that means now, although for years I was somewhat unclear on whether or not an extremity was amputated in my early years.)

And then there were 5. These are my two favorite images of my little nuclear family unit circa 1972. The top pic, taken on a summer camping trip on Swan Island (there's Duke, too), pretty much illustrates our life while my parents were still married.

I still dream of these places. Littlefield Campground was another regular destination for our family. My earliest memories are all about being outside, watching white-tailed deer run across the field, catching minnows, playing with the dog or stalking critters while my sisters wondered why they were always dressed the same. (They were not twins, born a year apart. But my Mom claims it was just cheaper/easier to buy 2 of the same outfit when shopping. Maybe it cut down on sibling rivalry, too?)

Poor Duke had the bad habit of killing and devouring cats who tormented him. I found out years later he had to be put down. Rosie, a older but very sweet St. Bernard mix, suddenly appeared and we became fast friends.

The week before my first grade picture was taken, my friend and I were attacked by a swarm of yellow-jackets in the woods. You can see traces of the stings on my face, but I think the shirt is a good distraction from the injuries. This image is an autographed copy for my biggest fan: Mom (yes, I cheated and used a stencil).

No need for stencils by age 7. In this written assignment, in addition to declaring that "if I had $100" I would not be mean to people, I also stated that "when my mother and father didn't have any more [money] I would give them each fiftee dollars," and "I would have a nice van to ride in and it would have fire on the side's."

By the time we got our third dog, another loving Shepard named Blue Boy, my sisters had discovered that they were not twins and insisted they dress themselves.

Rainy was one of the last dogs we had in my early years, and the first one after my parents got divorced (we'd gotten him on a rainy day I guess... not our best naming effort). He was a hyper but sweet pup. My Mom loved those Shepard mutts. While my Dad stayed in our childhood house, my Mom and my sisters moved around a lot - although never out of state.

This was our first Christmas in our new home in Lisbon Falls, another small town just north of Brunswick. Here, I've just unwrapped my most coveted present of the year: Robot Raydeen, Shogun Warrior! It was cool. (The later Transformers owe everything to these guys.) Raydeen had wheels under his feet and his fist shot off with the press of a button - a blast for both myself and Rainy. I don't remember much about the town except for the smell of the lumber mill across the street. I also discovered Moxie soda there, too (think Dr. Pepper meets Root Beer). The town was so proud of their adopted product, they even had a Moxie festival!

By the time I moved back in with my Dad in the early 1980s, we'd lived in little mill towns all around central Maine from Lincoln to Topsham. We'd had an estimated 10 dogs before I was 11 years old. Now, I was back in familiar territory and entering the sixth grade. Move over Japanese robots, hello heavy metal!

Elsewhere

Long-time Anti-Bummer artist and friend, Ms. World Book (a.k.a. Irene), has recently been dispatching news from the Elsewhere Artist Collaborative in Greensboro, NC. It is a place exploring a great concept:

"Elsewhere is set within a three-story former thrift store housing an immense 58-year collection of American cultural objects amassed by one woman, Sylvia Gray... The collection includes thousands of toys, books, periodicals, clothing, fabric, games, trinkets, bric-a-brac, furniture, antiques, army surplus, and historical documents. These objects, none of which are any longer for sale, now circulate internally, composing an evolving installation of objects and artwork while providing a continued resource for the cultivation of new creative processes and works."

Ms. Book is currently one of the many long-term visitors who inhabit the compound on a rotating basis. Transformed by Gray's grandson, George Scheer, the Collaborative now invites archivists, filmmakers, journalists, scholars, artists and others to spend residencies in the vast consumer time-capsule. They feed them and house them, giving them time to tinker with stuff from the past - the entire collection at their disposal for use and re-use. Ms. Book's work, as always, is both subtle and striking.

The Collaborative's website is navigated in much the same way one wanders around in a gigantic thrift store: overwhelmed, but curious enough to forge ahead, sometimes for hours, slowly uncovering little gems.

An Elf Lived Here

According to Big Time Listings:

"Heavy metal vocalist Ronnie James Dio has sold a three-bedroom, 1,981-square-foot house in Los Angeles’ Hollywood Hills for $1,110,000... Dio had purchased that house in 1988 for $440,000, according to public records... The house that Dio sold, at 3633 Lankershim Boulevard in Los Angeles’ Hollywood Hills, was built in 1945... Features in the house, which had been listed for $1,500,000, include a spacious formal dining room, a master suite with views and beamed ceilings, balconies, a deck, a garden patio, and a pool, according to listing information. Other features include three air-conditioning systems and top-of-the-line appliances, according to listing information.... Dio long has owned several houses in the L.A. area, and public records show that he continues to own three other properties in the region."

Funny they didn't mention the dungeon.