I met Richie Wurst that first night at Edmund’s. Right away when we got there, Brian introduced me to this wild eyed, 18 year old rocker. He had a strawberry mullet and a blue and green tie dyed t shirt. He was a jester, a jokester. he had a big giant smile and a… Continue reading The Drummer
9th grade finally fuckin ended and summer arrived. It was glorious. I hated high school even more than I hated grade school, so the liberation I felt was tremendous. My good friend Brian ended up going to Frankford High School, the nearby public school that was the “rival” to my school, Northeast Catholic High School… Continue reading Edmund’s Schoolyard
Another rock and roll dad with great riffs was Bill Hoover. He was a bass player, the father of my friend, Amy, who lived across the street from my great friend Christian Rock. I was only up in that neighborhood sometimes on weekends or maybe a weekday night here and there. It was just slightly… Continue reading We Should Do Videos!
Mike came around to each person in the class, to have a quick discussion about everybody’s guitars. While he did this, we all looked at the papers he had given us. We filled out our student profile page and gave it to him as he made his rounds and checked out these guitars we came… Continue reading Community College Kolber pt.2
A little while after I got out of the doghouse for quitting the marching band and lying about it, a piece of mail came advertising the spring semester of credit and non credit courses at community college of philadelphia. My mom was going through it and saw a class called Beginning Guitar. It was a… Continue reading Community College Kolber
I hadn’t told my parents that i quit the marching band. I had just quit the wrestling team a few weeks earlier and had to listen to a long lecture about seeing things through from my dad, who quit school in the middle of the 10th grade. What the fuck should he care if I… Continue reading Busted
My family moved around a lot when I was a kid. By the time I was 13, my mom and I had lived in 6 different places. Some houses, some apartments. Sometimes with my father or my stepdad, sometimes not. Sometimes with a grand mom and some aunts and uncles, sometimes just the 2 of… Continue reading D’Agostino