jack white gets mad...and timmmiii avoids fighting at all costs
damn, jack fucked up the von bondies singer Jason Stollsteimer saturday night in detroit.
these pics not for the squeamish.
word on the street is that jack and him have a beef surrounding production credits on the von bondies 2001 record Lack of Communication.
apparently jason has been telling people that jack really didn't do much on their first record....and if you read the above link to the review of Lack, it goes on and on about how jack took the band under his wing.
in fact, i recall seeing the von bondies at the magic stick in 2001, while i was home for christmas, and jack white was there. at the time, i think jack was dating VB guitarist Marcie Bolen. funny.
anyway, word is from some o the peeps at the show, is that jack came up to jason and started yelling "So i didn't produce your record, huh?" and stuff related to that. And then within seconds Jack was punching Jason, so from what i can tell, jack started it....but if jason was disavowing jack's help...which it seemed he gave them (the white stripes were definitely already established by the time von bondies came along and it seemed that was their key distinction in helping them become more visible in the indie rock scene -- i mean, the VB are a good band. i like that record a lot, actually)....then, i can see why jack was pissed.
if any of this is really the true story. which it may or may not be.
who the fuck knows.
i guess the whole incident took like only 30 seconds.
even members of the band playing when the incident occurred could barely tell what had happened. one guy said by the time he realized there was a fight and who it was, it was over.
funny, now that i think of all the fights i've ever seen, rarely do they last very long. often just a few seconds, a few punches, which is usually preceded by pushing and shoving, yelling threats and other animalistic tendencies.
the only ones that ever last long are the ones that are more like wrestling matches, with some punches thrown in.
hmm, that's how some of the fights happened that i was ever involved with.
not that i'm much of a fighter.
i'm a lover, not a fighter, see.
that reminds me of when i was but a wee teen, valiantly trying to avoid conflict at all costs.
i remember sitting in my friend tim danowski's driveway late one night in ol' Comstock Park -- must have been like fucking 1985-86 cuz i was driving -- in my 1972 blue Volvo watching him wrestle with this other dude in their front yard. some punching involved. seemed like it took forever, as i recall.
of course, i was much too terrified to get out of the car, since the other dude's similiarly angered friend was punching at my frickin driverside window, telling me to get out of the car.
yeah, and as soon as i would have i been punched in the face. however....i could have shoved the door in his face unexpectantly. but hey, i was young...i didn't understand.
it seems like we pissed off these guys somehow, though i don't remember how. maybe we were coming from the gas stations just up the street.
i do remember that i had to take tim home, only a few blocks away, and i remember these guys following us. so we pulled into his driveway, mistakenly thinking that they wouldn't follow us onto private property.
of course....this is how I thought...duh. not very realistic.
i think the fight woke up his parents, because it seems like the kids took off pretty quickly. at that point, there was me, emerging from the car without a scratch.
tim was mad at me for not helping him, because i think the one kid punching my window helped his friend with punching tim and finally gave up on me (never mind that the passenger side door was open the whole time -- apparently he never noticed, amidst all of his rage), but when his parents turned the lights on, they stopped fighting and ran off in their car.
god, that reminds me when i was about 9 years old, and we were at this playground in North Park, i believe for one of my mom's church softball games. Ol' Betty Ann played softball for a good many years, she did. she was a damn good softball player, too. she was a rocker.
anyway, we must have been at this playground for a softball game because it was an unfamiliar playground and new kids, so we were at a disadvantage. we didn't control that playground, those jungle gyms were different than ours, and we were unsure of the hierarchy.
plus there were several tough-looking african american kids.
and at age 9, i had been around very few people of color. call it being lucky enough to grow up in Grand Rapids, Michigan, in a super-white suburb (really, i think there one ONE African American boy who attended classes at my school but only for a couple years).
so naturally i was somewhat afraid of them. plus i was small (or as this guy told me last night, a "short inseam" - thanks mark!).
anyway, my friend, jim parris, got into a scuffle with one of the kids because of something i had said or did, not that i actually recall what i did. maybe took their swing or something. i don't know. Jim stood up for me, basically because i was small and afraid.
and he got punched in the stomach for it. ah, to be young again, when life was so simple.
he took a punch for me. and i'm just left with all the guilt, years later.
i mean, i felt bad for him, but i was glad it wasn't me. being hurt sucks.
i did that another time in daytona beach, the night i was severely drunk and told this giant football player type, whose seat i was sitting in, to fuck off.
and they weren't even being dicks to us about us sitting in their seats...that is, until i told them to fuck off.
somehow my friend Kim got me out of that one.
home on the fray
i'm sick of telling people where i'm from. i recall a dude last year being apprehensive to tell me where he was originally from.
he's like "i'm from here, yo, san francisco."
and i'm like "so you were born here?"
"ok, then where are you from originally?"
"Oh, where am i from originally? (all sarcastic)
"um, yeah, originally."
the answer is not the point.
(plus i don't remember, maybe ohio or pennsylvania?)
the point is he lived in san francisco now and considered this home.
and now i consider this home.
i'm sorry i'm not tight with all my buddies in GR anymore but that's how it goes. when you're not living in the same town, it makes it pretty difficult to stay in constant touch. you've all got your own lives to lead. and people generally understand that. of course, it sucks when you never talk altogether but unfortunately some people fall by the wayside. again, nobody's fault, just the way it is.
and don't be thinking all bruce hornsby on my ass right about now!
at least i didn't end it with, "it's just the way it goes, some things will never change."
anyway, my original point was that i'm tired of telling people the whole fucking story of coming here. i need to arrive. i have arrived. but i need to ARRIVE, as it were. but yeah. so...fuck, i'm on some "magic window" right now (thank you boards of canada for giving me 1 minute 46 seconds of silence. i can dig on silence. and wow, the point is well taken, a time to reflect on the preceding tunes on the geogaddi album...but i fucking digress).
i just want to say i'm from oakland. if people keep on delving, i'll be like, yeah, i moved here almost four years ago but not volunteer all the info up front.
let the snubs begin.
on the other hand, california is chock full of people from everywhere else.
but i just like to get angry about stupid shit.
isn't it fun?