That's a real humdinger!

Cupcakes, life, love and the pursuit of happiness. This is what life is all about.
You're about to embark on a journey of wild ramblings and deep thoughts thanks to the PBR and whiskey consumed last night. You can thank me later ;)

In other words, this is my 'getting to know me' blog.

I was born 29 years ago...this was the decline of everything my parents knew and loved. They weren't ready for the rollercoaster ride they were about to embark on. As a child, my hobby was rearranging furniture, honestly. Ask my mother. I loved my Barbies and made my sister eat slug antlers. I was stubborn, always right, boisterous, and wanted to do everything my father did. I worked my way through school. School was more of a social gathering to me than anything to be taken seriously. I was constantly in trouble for talking, passing notes, picking at my nails...anything but paying attention for longer than 3 minutes. At the wise age of 16, I decided that my high school career was overrated and opted out. Having some hard earned cash was much more important to me than sitting in a classroom doodling on a grocery bag book cover. I chose a career piercing children's ears and selling senior citizens obnoxious hair accessories for their adorable granddaughters. After some time in the financially gainful world of retail, I decided school would be a good idea. I graduated from an alternative school, floundered my drug induced way through college and somehow managed to find myself with both an Associate of Arts degree as well as a Bachelor of Arts degree. I don't remember the details.

Rewinding a bit, my early twenties were full of debauchery on 180 levels. Nasty, immature relationships, drugs, booze, travels, and epiphanies were the constants in my life. Let me elaborate...

Lesson 1) The Wall got me through tremendous times, up until my early twenties, it's subliminal
messages made life seem much easier....Thank goodness I'm not Pink.

Lesson 2) No matter how deep the drug induced dream, being in a violent relationship is not necessary, healthy or productive and it never will be. No matter how much threatening and bribery are involved.

Lesson 3) Accountability is an absolute in life.

Lesson 4) Honey bear bongs ruled.

Lesson 5) Money's just money, you can't take it with you when you die. BUT, you can take the memories you created, remembered or not.

Lesson 6) Being happy is a wise choice. For one's self and those around you. It could ALWAYS be worse.

Lesson 7) There is nothing in this world that strokes my shaft as precisely and intensely as listening to music.

Lesson 8) There is much to be learned through years of dark basements, bartering, near death experiences and depravity.

This is what I recall, per my various sribblings on napkins, assembled to recall what was of my early twenties.
My mid twenties were spent in a dream world. This is also where I came to know many valuable faces and names that showed me what music was all about in Des Moines, IA. This is also when I discovered that my life will not end with "White Rabbit" and a grapefruit. This is where I came to realize that hard work will produce results and I am a valuable member of my team.

Now, on the brink of 30, I am eternally grateful for all the drama I've caused myself, all the awful predicaments I've gotten myself into and all the shady characters I've associated with. Through all the drama I've caused, I've learned what I'm capable of putting myself through and "what hasn't killed me has only made me stronger and wiser". All the predicaments I've gotten myself into have made for some damn great stories. And all the shady characters have taught me what type of people I really want in my life and have made me appreciate the amazingness that is YOU.

Now, I attend as many shows as I am able to....small and large. I have made a comfortable enough resting spot where I am able to provide myself with the immense entertainment that is life. Waste not, want not.
Over the past year, I have met people I never thought I would meet (soulmates), have seen bands I never thought I would see, have said things I never thought I would say and have done things I never thought I would do.

I will leave you with some facts:

Cupcakes, cat butts, PBR, tattoos, stickers and odd finds at thrift stores make me incredibly happy. Red Yeller, empty PBR's, reality TV, and saying goodnight to my friends makes me sad. There is no better way to romance me than presenting me with a vinyl. I HATE clowns and often ponder what kind of sick Nazi swamp monster would EVER think that clowns are entertaining for kids. It's as sick a joke as a male prostitute representing himself as a woman. I am finally confident enough to call myself stable and capable of loving myself and you. I am incredibly busy, but will always find time. I live under karma's sweet veil. I am a Sagittarius to a 'T'. I'm flighty, very offensive, social, impulsive, tactless and gluttonous. I have 3 cats who are my babies.

I will be bringing you news that I think you should know, ramblings and thoughts, because sharing is caring.

And with that, I bid you good day.

Disclaimer: I am not responsible for what comes out of my mouth, I can edit type, not my impulsive jowl.

Also....I'd like to thank Troy Church for welcoming me aboard and being a pioneering spirit in my life.

The Iowa Metal Scene: Meet Caustic Vision

They don't look like a metal band.

That was my initial reaction upon meeting and hanging out with Caustic Vision... A band that hails from one of the most liberal college towns in the country, Grinnell Iowa. But I soon realized that these cats aren't just a bunch of candy-ass liberal types trying to forge into a genre that they have no business being in, but actually serious musicians who are actually pissed off at the mess this society has become, and fuel that anger into iron symphonies of  society's dysfunction and apocalyptic lore.



Des Moines and central Iowa has it's share of home grown metal bands. Slipknot! is the obvious one, and Dead Horse Trauma, also from Grinnell, seems to be be on the verge of becoming the next big thing. There is Superchief and Junk Poet from Des Moines, Controlled Chaos from Leon, and several other lesser bands that are trying to climb through the ranks. Right up there at the top of Iowa's metal scene is Caustic Vision.

Caustic Vision is a name that front man Mickie Witcraft has had on the back burner for a long time, and when he met the guys who now make up this five-piece band, he knew that he had the golden opportunity to use it.

"The meaning of it," explains Mickie, "is the way you perceive things... If you have a fucked up way at looking at things, then that is your caustic vision."

The band might have a caustic vision on society and the ills that plague it, but they are one of the hardest working and most accessible bands in the scene today. Along with Mickie Witcraft on vocals, there is Brandon Wolver and Ryan Hall on guitars (Brandon plays lead), Nate Anderson on drums, and Richard Cooper beating the bass strings.They have played with such headliners as Mushroomhead, Hed Pe, Nashville Pussy, Hemlock, Ventana, and The Texas Hippie Coalition. That being said, it is not uncommon to see them on other lineups where the bands are more local.

"When I started booking shows I used to book them because I was a huge fan and could never get to their shows. so I started booking them on my shows so I could watch them." said Chad Willey of Metro Concerts Live, one of the more active concert promoters in Des Moines. "Nate is probably one of the better drummers in town. And some of the riffs Ryan comes up with are freaking sweet... Mickie has a very distinct voice too. No one in town sounds like him."

They draw a good crowd for being local, a reward for the all the hard work and energy that they put into each and every show they do. It's not easy being a supporting act especially on a national bill... It usually means selling tickets just to get their feet on the stage, selling merchandise to support travelling costs, and dealing with different owners and situations that arise from each and every show. Then you have the sound checks, the breaking down and setting up, the interaction with fans... All of which is it's own reward to these guys, who absolutely love what they do. While the name Caustic Vision has such a negative undertone, this band is extremely gracious of the opportunities that they are given, and absolutely adore their fan base. You won't find them outside huddled in the van before the show, but rather inside the venue mingling with the crowd and actually being a part of the scene.

It was a cold and snowy day when I met with them in January at a place in downtown Grinnell called the Voodoo Lounge. It's a beautiful bar that sets below street level, and on this particular day, the venue was closed. Directly upstairs from the Voodoo was Bourbon Street, a New Orleans style restaurant that, combined with the Voodoo, takes up over 5,650 square feet. It was a great place to meet a band called Caustic Vision, I figured. Along with photographer Megan Rader, I made my way down the stairs to the spacious and empty bar. It was there that I got my first visual impression of these fellas... Which essentially was, They do not look like a metal band.

Caustic Vision behind the bar at the Voodoo
(Photo courtesy of Megan Rader)

Sure they have tattoos... Lots of them... But they didn't fit the mold otherwise. They didn't hover over me like a bunch of ogres, and their hair wasn't long and in their faces. They didn't wear scowls and sneer at us when we walked in, and their presence wasn't intimidating at all... In fact, if I didn't know better, and with no disrespect intended, I wouldn't  have pegged these guys as being in a metal band, but rather an A Capella boy band, in the spirit of N' Sync. They were clean cut and shaven... Not the picture that instantly comes to mind when you listen to their raw and powerful sound.

We made our introductions and sat down in one of the leather booths inside this beautiful place to conduct our meeting.

They told me the story of how they formed... Mickie was playing bass then along with Ryan and another dude named Chad. They heard about this drummer named Nate, and went over to his house to see what he was all about. Suddenly and instantly, according to Mickie, "We had a band!"

Their first gig was pretty typical... In a venue that normally doesn't support live music, a Mexican Restaurant called San Panchos, "the smallest damn venue you could ever imagine" according to Nate. "After they closed and quit serving food, they moved all of the chairs out of the there and we played right there on the floor." The sound was horrible, and the band admits that musically, they sucked... But 40-50 people showed up and they were paid five bucks apiece.

"It was cool," adds Nate. "That was the first goal of the band and it was met right there... To play a show and get that under your belt. It just made ya hungry for more."

They continued to play together and with repetition and practice, they began to polish their sound. They improved with each session, and when they'd play live, people started to notice that they were getting better while developing a more definitive sound.

As a four piece band, Caustic Vision started to find their niche in the Midwest heavy metal scene.They made it past the first round of the Bodog Battle of the Bands in Madison Wisconsin, and were getting ready to play in the second round, when Chad suddenly quit. They were forced to cancel that appearance, and essentially go back to square one and start over. Instead of dwelling on the negative, Mickie, Ryan and Nate used this experience as a motivational catapult to propel them into a driven machine... They tightened their sound even more, and became more professional and close as a group. They scrapped everything they had written up to that point, and started over. It was then that they developed the song, Fake, which essentially is the song that started to define what Caustic Vision is all about. Mickie said, "When we wrote Fake, and we recorded that, I was like Shit!... We could do something with this. It's our main song that's out on ReverbNation... It's our main song that's out."

It was about at this point that Mickie decided that he would rather concentrate on his vocals more than his bass playing, so they brought in Richard Cooper. Cooper had been a friend of Nate's for a long time, and had seen Caustic Vision play on several occasions. He and Nate used to jam together, and he says that he "always kind of knew" that he would become a part of the band. Caustic Vision became a four-piece band again, and everything seemed to be clicking.

Soon however, it became apparent that the band needed a lead guitarist. Immediately Cooper thought of his good friend Brandon Wolver.

"I had been hanging out with Cooper on a daily basis for a long time, and I worked with Mickie." said Brandon. "They both had been asking me to come try out for the band for months before I finally did it. I didn't think my skills were quite up to par, and I didn't think I was ready to be in a band and play in front of a lot of people. Mickie and Cooper both told me I was basically full of crap, and that I was really good. So finally in early September of '09, I went to one of their practices. I learned a few songs, and showed them some of my own material. The guys loved it, and we clicked very well, so I learned the rest of the songs and started helping write the songs that are now going on the new album."

Clockwise from the bottom: Mickie, Brandon, Ryan, Cooper, and Nate
(Photograph by Ashley Larue)

Brandon played his first show with Caustic Vision on November 7th, 2009, for Dead Horse Trauma's CD release party in Grinnell. He has played lead in the band since and has been a key factor in Caustic Vision's evolution and has become a major part of the band's sound.

Caustic Vision lists many metal bands as their influences... Mushroomhead, Tool, Propane, As I Lay Dying, Buckethead, Hatebreed, Killswitch Engage, and Rage Against the Machine to name a few. But surprisingly, a couple of other bands were thrown into the fray. Ryan tentatively admits that besides metal, The Gin Blossoms are one of his favorite bands. "But without that, he says, "I couldn't do what I do today. It takes that to make the rhythm that I do... It's a peaceful medium."

Nate explained it further. "It's important to be solid and good, but not to sound like everybody else.... It's those magic moments, like when you are warming up at practice and just monkeying around,  that's when the true sound comes out, I think."

On stage at the House of Bricks Des Moines

Coming from a liberal town, such as Grinnell, Iowa, a metal band has to have a strong will to persevere. It's not just a matter of not fitting in, it's a matter of not caring that you don't fit in. "I think alot of it is that we are doing something that normally this town would shut down and push out. They don't want to deal with it." said Ryan. "But the fact that we actually have stood our ground and stayed with it, kind of showed them that this is where we are."

I get the feeling that Grinnell, Iowa won't have to be dealing with these dudes for much longer...

Greg Tenac Waldrop of Dangerous Music Inc., the entity behind the "Scream" at the top of the page, sums it up like this: "Energy, stage enthusiasm, and a hunger to succeed drive Caustic Vision to upstage themselves at every performance".

Seventy-Nine

Johnny Cash would have turned 79 today. His music is timeless and his anarchic spirit will live forever.

Many do not know that Johnny was a deeply religious man, and that when he recorded an album, he carefully chose at least one gospel song to include on each track list. While personally I am not sure if there is truly a Heaven or not, it feels good to know that if there is, Johnny Cash resides there. As the world seems to grow more and more turbulent, it is nice to know that such an angel is looking down on us.

Rest in Peace Johnny. We miss you.

Roky Erickson: True Love Cast Out All Evil

ROKY ERICKSON with OKKERVIL RIVER -TRUE LOVE CAST OUT ALL EVIL (ANTI RECORDS)

I picked this up in April when it first came out and it has not been far away from my stereo since. When I first heard that Roky was working on a new record I was happy to hear the news on one hand, and then a little worried on the other. I mean how many times has an old favorite come out with something new after a lengthy hiatus and you wish they never bothered. Thus, the time waiting for the new record is often filled with as much apprehension as anticipation. Will it be a disappointment? Will they still have it in them? All these questions were rambling around in my head as I waited for the release date to come.

Well I shouldn't have worried, because what we've got here is a real solid record. The songs on here were written by Roky at different times and stages of his life, and the result is basically Roky's autobiography, and for those who know the story, what a tale it is!

Now if your expecting the "horror rock" like his stuff with the Aliens, Evil Hook Wildlife E.T., or some of the others, you won't find it here. What you will find though; is a record with a ragged purity and resilient spirit that can only come from someone who has weathered the worst of storms and come out the other end, Maybe battered and beaten, but still standing and possessing a kind of insight that only comes at a high cost.

Buy this record, or cd, or whatever. Don't burn it from a friends copy, don't get from some free download, but buy it. I would like to live in a world where Roky Erickson gets some money for his efforts and turds like Lady GAGA have to struggle to pay the bills. -SHEP

You Know it's Gonna Get Stranger...

We are in the process of revamping the site... Thank you for your continued support!

Johnny Reeferseed and the High Rollers at 504

The newest place in Des Moines to see live music is the 504 Club.

Located at 504 Locust Street in downtown Des Moines, this venue offers a chance for music lovers to see local, regional and national acts. Friday night featured Des Moines' favorite party band, Johnny Reeferseed and the High Rollers and we took it as an excellent opportunity to check out what this new place was all about.

The first thing that caught my attention was how big the place is. Most of the music venues in town run a little small... One of the reasons that the larger national acts are hard to book in the bars... But at 504 Club, space is certainly not an issue. The band was already on the stage when I walked in, and even though there was over 50 people in attendance, the place seemed empty.

The next thing I noticed was the sound... Holy Amsterdam that place sounds great! Whether it was because of the sound engineer or the acoustics of the venue itself, I do not know. I am guessing however that it is a combination of both... The sound booth is a modern state of the art facility in itself, and with the shiny wooden floors, the open ceiling and the large spacious room, the reverberation in the concert hall is amazing.

The High Rollers were already half-way through Light 'em up!, a home grown number they wrote and performed with Afroman, and it was immediately apparent that on this particular night Johnny Reeferseed was smoking the best of his stash. The groove was ridiculous (is there a better word?) and with the acoustics in this joint, the sound was bouncing off of the walls like musical popcorn. I knew right away that I was in for a wicked night of live music.

Incidentally, Light 'em up! was awarded the Best Funk Song at the Marijuana Music Awards in Austin, Texas in 2008 and even gained mention in High Times magazine. Friday night it sounded especially jazzy, because joining the High Rollers on the stage was Erik Brown (from The Maw) with his oddly shaped trumpet.... The horn's rich, fluent sound was the perfect accompaniment to Jacob County's raunchy guitar licks. In fact, it sounded so tight that I wasn't even aware that Erik was playing until I looked up and noticed him on the stage.

After Light 'em up, the band rolled right into their version of I'll Be There, a twisted remake of the Jackson 5 classic. The stage lighting took on an orange hue that dispensed beautiful and deep shadows over the band members and the their equipment, and not only did this Motown cover sound fantastic, it also looked great! Johnny Reeferseed's gruff, throaty vocals are an interesting alternative to the smooth boyish crooning of Michael Jackson, but like everything the High Rollers attempt to do, somehow it works.

You and I must make a pact
To go out and find a big fat sack
Where there's kind bud... I'll be there.

I'll reach out my blunt to you
I'll fill your bong with fresh water too
When you need a bong hit... I'll be there.

And so forth... You get the idea. (Check it out for yourself here.)

Jacob County is known as one of the premier guitar players in the midwest, and his versatility might be matched only by a few. He can go from playing raunchy funk riffs to sweet and smooth melodies in no time at all. Whether he is playing funk, motown, or gritty honky tonk riffs, he is a master of his domain and it's always a treat to watch his body bend and reach in every attempt to find that perfect note. One thing is for certain... Nobody has more fun playing their guitar than Jacob County does and this was apparent judging by the big flashy smile on his face while they played I'll be there.

Johnny Reeferseed is no slouch on the guitar himself, and isn't afraid to take the lead. He is to Jacob County what Brian Jones was to Keith Richards, and together they recreate that incredible sound that the Stones had in the early '70s with the Let it Bleed and Beggar's Banquet albums. Pure rock and roll the way it was meant to be played is what epitomizes that High Roller sound.

Johnny Reeferseed and the High Rollers

Along with Johnny Reeferseed and Jacob County, the band features Beth Spaniels who is as versatile on the bass as Jacob is on the guitar, Keef Hashman on the keyboards (who was mysteriously absent on this night), and Burnt Reynolds on the drums. With years of playing together, this band has formed a sound so tight that it seems that they could play these songs in their sleep. The addition of Erik Brown on this particular night was a special treat because of his rare and uncanny ability to play his trumpet alongside any music genre and make it sound like it is supposed to be there.

The next little number they rolled up was one of their own, called Dine and Dash. It is essentially about what you would think it's about... Eating at a restaurant that you know you cannot afford to eat at, and simply dashing out before paying the bill. It's a fun, fast song that conjures up mental images of the High Rollers running away from a diner towards their van in the style of the Scooby Doo gang as they are chased by scary phantoms.

Speaking of Scooby Doo, it must have been time for some Scooby Snacks because after Dine and dash, the band exited the stage for a well deserved intermission.

This gave me a chance to take a look around and see what the 504 Club was all about. The bar is about a mile long it seems, and is tended by what has to be some of the most beautiful girls in Des Moines. The place is set up as a giant dance hall with a few tables scattered here and there. The area right in front of the stage is wide open, and it makes for a great concert viewing experience. Behind the stage is a wall that hides a stairway, that leads up to the green room, a locker room of sorts where the bands converge before and after the shows. In the room is a couple of tables and chairs, bottled water, and miscellaneous coats and what not. There are also a row of windows that allow the band to look out over the venue and the activities below. The band was not there, probably taking advantage of the cool crisp air in the back door alley.

The stage as seen from the "green room."

After a short intermission, the High Rollers took the stage for the second set of the evening. Immediately they went into the Willie Dixon/Howlin' Wolf classic, Little Red Rooster, which featured Jacob using a PBR bottle as a slide for his guitar. Maybe the band was still shaking off of the chill from being outside, but this wasn't their best effort, in my opinion. They more than made up for it with their next attempt, a slow but rousing rendition of the Rolling Stones' Miss You. I have said it a few times... When they are on, The High Rollers play this song better than the Stones did and that is not an exaggeration. That again was the case on Friday night. Erik Brown was hitting the notes on his trumpet, and the song's slow groove brought the concert hall back to life.

Next in line was Long Black Veil a country classic that was originally recorded by Lefty Frizzell in 1959. Generally not a song that one would expect to be heard from a party band, this number is generally reserved for country greats. But it has been covered by the likes of  The Jerry Garcia Band, Johnny Cash, and even Dave Mathews. It's a haunting song about a man who is mistakenly accused of murder. The judge offers him freedom from execution if he can offer an alibi, but he refuses. His alibi is a secret that he takes to his grave - that he was that he was sleeping with his best friend's wife.

Jacob County on the beer bottle slide

Next came a smokin' version of Prince's Kiss... It was played in true High Roller fashion, with the bass thumping and the guitars chugging. Again, Johnny Reeferseed's vocals were low and gruff compared to those on Prince's original version, but he managed to pull it off, much to the delight of the crowd.

The song seemingly came out of nowhere...  It started off with a little hippie jam that could have gone in a multitude of different directions. Everybody in the room seemed caught off guard that this was the song that the band eventually settled on, perhaps most notably, Erik Brown who had just settled into a psychedelic trumpet groove when the rest of the band broke into Kiss. It didn't take him long to catch up, and he more than made up for it with a blistering horn solo in between the second and third verses. That's one element of this band that separates them from most others... They will take any song and make it their own. I'm not much of a fan of the radio version of Kiss, but would love to see the High Rollers play it again.

Jacob County and Erik Brown

Next in line came a couple of  Johnny Reeferseed originals, Brother Can You Spare a Dime, and Fight Fuck and Drink. Both of these tracks are on the play list linked above, and are worth listening to.

Because of a prior commitment at another venue, I was making my way out the door at this point of the show. However I was stopped in my tracks when suddenly the band broke into one of my all time favorite songs, Bob Dylan's I Shall Be Released. So...I took a glance at my watch and decided I had time for one more. I grabbed a drink from the bar and settled in.

The High Rollers play this song well... Very well. Johnny Reeferseed's vocals are perfect for it, and he sings it like it was meant to be sung, with spiritual conviction. It was a beautiful version as it always is when The High Rollers play it, and not until the song concluded, did I make my way out onto the street.

I am convinced that Johnny Reeferseed and the High Rollers is the ultimate party band. One can see that they are serious and a very talented group of musicians, despite what the initial assumptions of this band might be, based off of their name. Do not be fooled... When this band hits the stage, they come to play, and when they play, it's a party. And it is impossible not to have a good time.

Kudos to the 504 Club for letting this happen.

Record Albums I'll Never Own dept.

Sometimes I'll pick up a CD from a band that I've never heard before purely based off of the artwork or the photo on the album cover. In fact, that is how I came to discover Molly Hatchet back in the early '80s and how I first latched onto DIO's Holy Diver a few years later. This theory has worked well for me throughout the years, but it also has a reverse effect...

Is there ANYTHING at all about this album cover that makes you want to listen to it?

Nah... Didn't think so.

(Except for the fact that with his dialated pupils Ken apppears to be on LSD.)

Dumbell Tabs Sellergren for Upcoming Euro Tour

German punks Dumbell has hired a new bass player and back up vocalist for it's spring tour over Europe.

It's our pal Magnus Sellergren, who has somehow found the ability to extend his work load even further. You might remember Magnus from when we featured him in our Five Questions With... series, or more recently when we covered his latest band project, Svarta Maria. At the time, it seemed that his plate was already full, and we marlved at his ability to take on so much and be productive.

Now we find out that he joining forces with Dumbell (Official site),  for this one tour, which will cover Europe. They needed a bassist, and Magnus, the king of the multi-task, found the time and he has the ability.

He's a perfect fit...

Dumbell - You're so fake

DUMBELL | Myspace Music Videos

Dumbell was formed in 1996 in the Cologne region of Germany by guitarist/singer Paul Grace Smith, a former resident of Cincinatti, Ohio. The band has gone through multiple changes over the years and Smith is the only remaining original member. Smith never lost his focus on how the band was to sound, and with each change Dumbell progressed to a new level. Now, with the addition of Magnus to it's bass section, it should be off the charts. Rounding out the rest of the lineup along with Smith and Sellergren will be Illias Olympus on drums, and Dayton, Ohio native Jamy Holliday on guitar and backing vox. Smith calls it the "most smoking Dumbell lineup ever!"

Europe, are you ready for this?

With art work like this you know this band kicks  ass.

In Magnus's own words...

BD: In your opinion, what is Dumbell all about?

MS: Dumbell is all about rock'n'roll. It may sound like a damn cliché but it's just as simple as that. A great blend of Punk Rawk and The Stones, served up with attitude, energy, passion and a slight wry sense of humor. People maybe don't know this but Paul is one of the funniest guys I ever encountered in my life. Also, I kinda like his lyrics 'cause there's a lot of living in there and you can tell it's not a damn pose.

BD: What does joining Dumbell mean for the other projects you are involved with... Svarta Maria, your artwork, etc? Is everything else temporarily on hold?

MS: Well, Svarta Maria's first EP has been mixed, mastered and I just finished up the videos so schedule-wise it won't affect the band at all. We're heading into the studio this weekend to record our follow-up EP slated for release in April and by then I'll be back to finish videos etc... I've set a deadline when it comes to artwork which means I'm not accepting any jobs as of now that I know won't be finished around March 10th. In order to nail the 20-song setlist in about 30+ days, and make a damn good job doing it, everything else is temporarily on hold right now. I don't mind though, this'll be a blast!

According to their Myspace page, Dumbell lists their influences as The MC5, The Stooges, Hüsker Dü, Devo, The Replacements, Dead Boys, Damned, Velvet Underground, Hunter S. Thompson, Ike Turner, The Jam, Big Black, Black Flag, Bad Brains, and Sonny Vincent.

Sounds like it's gonna be a helluva ride!

Five Questions with... Keith Morris

Keith Morris in the Bigfoot Diaries... Score a major one for us!

He  is one of those people that, as a rock journalist, I have often dreamt about conducting an interview with, but wondered if I would ever get the chance. He is after all a fucking legend... A punk rock original and a rock and roll icon... Who would have thought that he'd find time in his hectic life to talk to me?

I'm starting to realize that this blogamachine really isn't a bad gig...

Keith Morris's musical influence within the punk rock community is immeasurable... Two of the acts he is associated with, Black Flag and The Circle Jerks, are considered to be pioneers of the indigent West Coast punk scene. His latest project, OFF! is garnering world wide respect, and is one of the most sought after live acts in this modern era.

Black Flag and The Circle Jerks both came from South Bay in California - Hermosa Beach to be precise- and dunked the California music scene headfirst into a bubbling bath of bone melting anarchy. That was in the late '70s and the scene has never fully recovered. It certainly has not been the same since. Nor has the rest of the world... Anti-Flag, The Dropkick Murphys, Bad Religion, The Meat Puppets, Falling Sickness, Bouncing Souls, Rancid and even Megadeth are a few of the bands that have named Black Flag and/or The Circle Jerks as an influence to their music.

Keith Morris was a driving force with both of these bands, taking his pent up anger off of the streets and bringing it to the stage. And while Black Flag's sound is significantly different from that of The Circle Jerks, both bands apply social disorder as a common thread to their sound and their attitude. Keith Morris has attitude... Maybe that's what lends to him being one of the most sought after live musicians today in a world consumed by governmental atrocities and corporate monetary genocide. While technology has evolved since 1976, the federal bullshit capacity hasn't, and neither has Keith Morris's style. And this explains why he is still relevant... He is one of us.

Nervous Breakdown EP (1978)

1. In 1976 you co-founded Black Flag with guitarist Greg Ginn who shared your intense work ethic... What led to you and Greg collaborating together to form this band, and what band(s) would you say was the main influence for Black Flag?

It was GINN's work ethic that forced me away from BF and the fact that I wasn't having fun, we weren't playing that many shows which lead to lots of hours in the rehearsal space. The formation of the band happened naturally as Ginn and I wanted to start a band. We had absolutely no idea as to what we were doin' or how to move forward so we just went along at our own pace.......figuring things out for ourselves. We asked friends to play with us in the practice room and finding out who were good players and not. We had 3 bassists before CHUCK "THE DUKE" DUKOWSKI who came in and really kicked up the work pace. We had a ton of influences ranging from THE LAST, DOGS, TED NUGENT, LYNYRD SKYNYRD, ALLEY CATS, BAGS, GERMS, X, WEIRDOS, CONTROLLERS, FLESHEATERS, THIN LIZZY, PLUGZ, RHINO 39, SCREAMERS, GRATEFUL DEAD, JOURNEY, BLACK OAK ARKANSAS, AC/DC, DAMNED, SKULLS, ZEROS, EYES, SEX PISTOLS and IGGY & THE STOOGES..................and all of the mediocre top 40 bands that played on the weekends across the South Bay who were probably more inspirational than any of the "REAL" bands I mentioned!

2. Three years later you co-founded the Circle Jerks with another Greg, this time Greg Hetson (who later played guitar for Bad Religion.). What can you tell me about the transition between Black Flag and the Circle Jerks? (ie: What was your mindset, was it a smooth transition, etc?)

It was pretty easy as we initially had Hetson, Lucky who had auditioned for Red Cross and myself. I said let's start a band and I found Roger Rogerson drinking a 40 ounce gut wrench beer inna' brown paper bag in front of the Anti Club and the Circle Jerks fell into place and was all downhill from there. Our mindset was that we wanted to have a good time and not mess up the party! We, unlike Black Flag weren't into the violence so the difference between the 2 bands was that they didn't care and were more serious and the Circle Jerks were more comical and tried to bring a festive mood to wherever/whatever we were up to.

Circle Jerks circa 1981

Touche'... The Circle Jerks song "Golden Shower of Hits" was a medley of six cover songs from such surprising artists as The Carpenters, Starland Vocal Band, Captain and Tennille, and Tammy Wynette to name a few... It's a medley of six songs strung together to tell a story about two people falling in love, having an unplanned pregnancy, getting hastily married, and eventually, getting divorced... Heh... What's the story BEHIND the story?

There's no story leading up to the song except that I was always quick to do cover songs as long as we were doin' a good job playing them. We'd already decided to name the album "Golden Shower Of Hits" so the rest of the songs just fell into place............we we're being mismanaged at that time and one of the guys who thought he was in charge decided to take credit for coming up with the idea to cover a buncha' songs that had abso-fuckin'-lutely no business being mangled by a band of our caliber!

4. Who are some of the modern bands that you listen to?

Right now I'm listening to the "Scott Pilgrim Vs The World" soundtrack which is FUCKIN' NUTS! Before that was ZOFFY's "Zo Zo Zo Zo Zoffy!!!", THE BLACK ANGELS' "Phosphene Dream", IDLE TIMES' 1st album, DANZIG's 1st album, DEERHUNTER's "Microcastle", DEEP PURPLE's "In Rock", HIGH ON FIRE's "The Art Of Self Defense" and PRIMAL SCREAM's "Primal Scream" album................yesterday was THE GUN CLUB's "Fire Of Love", (Turn On) THE MUSIC MACHINE, ELASTICA, ALICE COOPER's "School's Out", EDDY CURRENT SUPPRESSION RING, SECRET MACHINES "Now Here Is Nowhere".........WOVEN BONES, CROCODILES, TEN YEARS AFTER, FUCKED UP, JESUS LIZARD, CLINIC, DUM DUM GIRLS, WARPAINT, MASTER'S APPRENTICES and a few others.

OFF!

5. Your latest band project, OFF! is receiving world-wide acclaim... First of all, what is it like to be a full fledged punk rocker in his mid '50s, and secondly, now that you have several months under your belt with this act, what is the general vibe within the band? In other words, is most of the bullshit you put up with while in Black Flag and the Circle Jerks still a common thread, or have you finally found "harmony" with a band?

I don't and never really considered myself a "Punk Rock" as I'm just a guy who's angry and has been fortunate to be playing pissed off, aggressive music and there's tension in this band at times but we channel the ugliness into our incredibly beautiful thing! LMAO! I LOVE THIS BAND 'cause the guyz are extremely talented as players and have been through enough stuff to understand that we've got something totally happening goin' on and we all look like studly handsome men's underwear models.

Morris on stage at the Vans Warped Tour '07

(Bonus Question): Assuming that you are content with OFF!, what is your take on the Black Flag "reunion shows" that keep getting brought up? From what I can tell, Henry Rollins has no interest... If he is out, and you have your own gig going on... Is it even plausible?

GINN put onna' coupla' reunion shows that had about 99 and 1/2% of the attendees totally bummed out........I only heard one positive critique and that was that this one particular person dug GINN's guitar sound. Most peeps said it was a ripoff. I was asked to participate to make sure that ROBO, "THE DUKE" and RON REYES were gonna' participate in what was being billed as "THE FIRST FOUR YEARS" but after a coupla' horrible rehearsals I knew it wasn't gonna' happen with me. Too many lies, accusations, bogus phone conversations and finger pointing which brought me to the realization of why I left BF in the first place! HENRY loves GINN and has the utmost respect for him but was never gonna' be a part as we'd done the WEST MEMPHIS 3 benefit tour and that was enough for him. GINN wasn't happy with us doin' that tour and made Junior High Schoolgirl comments towards a coupla' guys that were part of the tour...........TOTALLY WEAK!

The Truth About December

Last month it was pretty quiet here in the Bigfoot Diaries headquarters. Initially we reported that we lost internet connection. The following is the story of what really happened to my laptop...

Just for kicks I typed the word "Google" into Google's search engine, and clicked on the "I'm feeling lucky" tab.

I sat in eerie silence for about ten seconds watching the screen, and instead of the page simply resetting itself as I imagined it would, the screen went blank and my laptop started emitting fire and smoke from the disc drive. Frantically, I tried to shut it down via the Ctrl/Alt/Delete method but to no avail. After a loud sucking noise and a POP! my Dell vanished into thin air leaving a small puff of dust in it's place. It disappeared completely, taking it's shadow with it. The only thing that remains is a small black burn stain on my wooden desk top.

My laptop a few seconds before complete evaporation.

Yeah... Never, never NEVER do this.

Des Moines Love and Music

I can remember years ago when I started to comprehend the love I had for music. I can remember always loving the entity and the spirit and emotion it filled me with. (I use the term 'entity' as it's more than a sound, action, creation...it's a being, it has life) I can remember my first show, Raffi, actually terrified me. There were so many people. He was pulling kids up on stage. I recall being absolutely frightened that I would be chosen and would be made into a complete fool, tripping over my own feet, filled with nerves. I never was chosen. The following shows consisted of The New Kids on the Block, MC Hammer, Janet Jackson, Genesis...and the list began growing. I didn't understand what I was getting myself into. At the tender age of 29, I have an ever evolving list of bands that I've seen under my belt, local to national. I've become with these creators and they have made my life even more rich. I can't exactly pinpoint what music does to me. It fills me with joy, tears, love, hate, trust, compassion, anger, sensuality...the list goes on and on. As a follower of the (local) scene, I have my preferred bands, but will open up to anything. I've been to country shows, hip-hop shows, emo shows, metal shows, punk shows, rock shows...you name it, I've been there with a PBR in hand. There are a handful of venues in Des Moines, all with their strong points as well as their weak points. Some are 'too far west', some 'aren't in a safe neighborhood', some 'aren't clean enough', etc. Now, Des Moines is not a large city. Not at all. The differences in the 'scenes' though, are vast and competitors let it be known. We have entities such as Pitchfork Media, Des Moines Music Coalition as well as various genre clubs. "What we have here is a failure to communicate." We have different genres competing with one another, venues and booking agencies at each other's throats, bands that refuse to share a bill with other bands. Of course, personal differences are always going to come into effect. We're human, imperfect, flawed with emotion. What we forget is that we are one entity. Without that rival band, the 'scene' could die with YOU. I was too young to be able to be a part of The Runway, The Foundry or the orignial Hairy Mary's, but I do see the residual left over of what was once Des Moines' music scene. I try to attend as many shows as possible in our area. I have been to each venue in town at least once. I have the venues I prefer, but don't discriminate if it's a band I love. Bottom line to my ramblings is that Des Moines needs a music revival. We need to realize that we're all a little piece to the 'whole' that is our 'scene'. We all own it and are all responsible for it's growth and development. Musicians, fans, booking agencies, venues are all letting personal differences get in the way of a greater good, SUCCESS. Des Moines has a reputation as having a large heavy metal/rock persona. There is so much more. Blues, jazz, rockabilly, country, hip-hop. On a given night you are bound to find a band in each given genre playing to a half empty bar/venue. Is it that the word's not getting to you? You can't stand the guitar player's sister's ex-boyfriend? The venue's bathrooms aren't to your liking? You can always find something wrong, but you can also ALWAYS find something right. As a community (and this can apply to any city/state/'scene'), we need to appreciate and embrace what it is that we have and do all we can to support it. There are so many ways to assist: For one, GO TO SHOWS. There will be nothing without supporters. Spread the word. Life is turning electronic. A mass text, a FB post, a phone call. It all gets the point across. Volunteer to be on street teams. Generally, this will consist of putting up fliers. We really need to realize the talent that we possess and show it the love and devotion that it shows us. We're all a part in the bigger picture. Without YOU, the Des Moines music scene will never thrive as it should. All bands start somewhere. Somewhere small.... Music is life. Life perpetuates life.

Friday Morning Call To Arms

One more work day, kids... And then it's the weekend. Did you want SCREAM IN YOUR COFFEE?

Wake up... TURN IT UP!

It's a Bird!.. It's a Plane!... It's Megadeth!

Megadeth to the rescue!

While walking home from school in the central Norwegian municipality of Rakkestad, a 13 year old boy was confronted by a small pack of hungry wolves. Knowing that he was about to be ripped to shreds, he hearkened the advice of his elders, who had told him what to do if ever provoked by these blood thirsty canines... Don't run, but instead make yourself look as big as possible and be VERY LOUD.

The boy, who had been listening to Megadeth on his cell phone's MP3 player, simply turned up the volume to it's maximum setting. That was enough to startle the wolves, and eventually send them scurrying, thus saving the boy's life.

No word on what song was being played at the time, but could it have possibly been...

Yes... This really happened.

The Incredible Story of Albert Ostman

In 1924, a young Scandinavian named Albert Ostman spent several days prospecting for a lost gold mine near the head of Toba Inlet in British Columbia. He had heard that there were several of these old mines in the British Columbia area, and thought it would be a great vacation experience if he could locate one.

He took the Union Steamship boat to Lund, British Columbia, where he hired an old Indian to guide him the rest of the way to the Toba Inlet.

In Albert's own words: "This old Indian was a very talkative old gentleman. He told me stories about gold brought out by a white man from this lost mine. This white man was a very heavy drinker — spent his money freely in saloons. But he had no trouble in getting more money. He would be away a few days, then come back with a bag of gold. But one time he went to his mine and never came back. Some people said a Sasquatch had killed him.

At that time I had never heard of Sasquatch. So I asked what kind of an animal he called a Sasquatch. The Indian said, "They have hair all over their bodies, but they are not animals. They are people. Big people living in the mountains. My uncle saw the tracks of one that were two feet long. One old Indian saw one over eight feet tall.

I told the Indian I didn't believe in their old fables about mountain giants. It might have been some thousands of years ago, but not nowadays.

The Indian said: 'There may not be many, but they still exist.'"

Albert made it to Toba Inlet and was happy to have this time to himself. He figured that he would scour the forest during the days looking for the mine, and at night he would map out the areas he covered and make plans for the next day's exploration. He had plenty of food that he had bought from a grocer in Lund,which consisted mostly of canned items, but also some bacon, a bag of beans, four pounds of prunes, six packets of macaroni and cheese, three pounds of pancake flour, six packets of Rye King hard tack, one quart of butter and two one-pound cans of milk. The grocer in Lund also gave Albert some tin cans in order to keep his sugar, salt and matches dry. Then he had a sleeping bag, a Winchester rifle, a small frying pan, an aluminum pot, and three rolls of snuff. He would bundle all of this together before he set out in the morning and carry it with him as he set up a new camp each night. It would require alot of stamina to lug around an eighty pound bag each day, but Albert didn't really seem to mind so much. He was after all on "vacation." He would travel like this for about three days until he found a spot suitable to be his permanent camping spot.

Toba Inlet, British Columbia

Albert was sleeping in his sleeping bag when he was suddenly awakened to a terrifying realization. He was being "carried"... He had been scooped up and transported off... By something much bigger than he. At first he thought that he must be dreaming. But as he became more and more aware of the experience, he realized that he was not dreaming, but very much awake.

Wrapped up tightly in his sleeping bag, it was impossible for Albert to determine what was carrying him, but he could determine this much: He was being carried over the shoulder of a large bi-pedal creature that seemed to possess super human strength and amazing dexterity.

"My first thought was - it must be a snow slide..." Albert recalled several years later. "Then it felt like I was tossed on horseback, but I could feel whoever it was, was walking."

"I was in a very uncomfortable position — unable to move. I was sitting on my feet, and one of the boots in the bottom of the bag was crossways with the hobnail sole up across my foot. It hurt me terribly, but I could not move.

It was very hot inside. It was lucky for me this fellow's hand was not big enough to close up the whole bag when he picked me up — there was a small opening at the top, otherwise I would have choked to death."

Too afraid to move or to try to escape, and simply dumbfounded, Albert didn't move for several hours as the creature carried him away from his camp site. Then, very suddenly, he was dropped to the ground. He could hear some incoherent chatter, but couldn't make out what was being said, if anything. He was terrified for his life, and still wasn't able to comprehend what was happening. He continued to fight off the notion that he was still sleeping and just having a bad dream.

The next day Albert found himself in an area that was surrounded by cliffs on all sides. And he was not alone. There with him was what he considered to be a family of Bigfoot... 4 specimens of different sizes and shapes... An enormous creature that Albert figured to be the "old man" of the group, an "old lady",  and two younger creatures that appeared to be children. Albert figured the old man to be over 8 feet tall and to weigh about 800 pounds. He judged the old lady to be slightly smaller at about 7 feet tall and 600 pounds. The children were much smaller in stature, and were obviously lacking in the maturity of the older beasts.

"I had never heard of Sasquatch before the Indian told me about them. But I knew I was right among them.

But how to get away from them, that was another question? I got to see the outline of them now, as it began to get lighter, though the sky was cloudy, and it looked like rain, in fact there was a slight sprinkle.

I now had circulation in my legs, but my left foot was very sore on top where it had been resting on my hobnail boots. I got my boots out from the sleeping bag and tried to stand up. I found that I was wobbly on my feet, but I had a good hold of my rifle.

I asked, "What you fellows want with me?" Only some more chatter.

I had my compass and my prospecting glass on strings around my neck. The compass in my left hand shirt pocket and my glass in my right hand pocket. I tried to reason our location, and where I was. I could see now that I was in a small valley or basin about eight or ten acres, surrounded by high mountains, on the southeast side there was a V-shaped opening about eight feet wide at the bottom and about twenty feet high at the highest point — that must be the way I came in. But how will I get out? The old man was now sitting near this opening.

I moved my belongings up close to the west wall. There were two small cypress trees there, and this will do for a shelter for the time being. Until I find out what these people want with me, and how to get away from here. I emptied out my pack sack to see what I had left in the line of food. All my canned meat and vegetables were intact and I had one can of coffee. Also three small cans of milk — two packages of Rye King hard tack and my butter sealer half full of butter. But my prunes and macaroni were missing. Also my full box of shells for my rifle. I had my sheath knife but my prospecting pick was missing and my can of matches. I only had my safety box full and that held only about a dozen matches. That did not worry me — I can always start a fire with my prospecting glass when the sun is shining, if I got dry wood. I wanted hot coffee, but I had no wood, also nothing around here that looked like wood. I had a good look over the valley from where I was — but the boy and girl were always watching me from behind some juniper bush. I decided there must be some water around here. The ground was leaning towards the opening in the wall. There must be water at the upper end of this valley, there is green grass and moss along the bottom.

All my utensils were left behind. I opened my coffee tin and emptied the coffee in a dishtowel and tied it with the metal strip from the can. I took my rifle and the can and went looking for water. Right at the head under a cliff there was a lovely spring that disappeared underground. I got a drink, and a full can of water. When I got back the young boy was looking over my belongings, but did not touch anything. On my way back I noticed where these people were sleeping. On the east side wall of this valley was a shelf in the mountain side, with overhanging rock, looking something like a big undercut in a big tree about 10 feet deep and 30 feet wide. The floor was covered with lots of dry moss, and they had some kind of blankets woven of narrow strips of cedar bark, packed with dry moss. They looked very practical and warm — with no need of washing.

Photo: Lori Simmons (Used with permission)

Albert found himself in this incredulous situation, but yet he somehow managed to keep his bearings. The "old man" was very large and menacing, and Albert seemed to understand that if he panicked and freaked out, it could result in him taking a severe beating from this creature. He was able to gauge his surroundings and figured that he would bide his time until it he had a plan to escape.

The first day was pretty uneventful. He wasn't tied down and he had the freedom to rouse through his belongings at will. He ate his food without cooking it, always under the watchful eyes of the two younger creatures. He had an empty can of snuff, and tossed it over in the direction where the young boy was. The boy sprang to his feet and grabbed it, and took it over to his sister. The two of them played with it for a long while, and they discovered how to open and close it. After awhile, the boy took it over to the father and showed it to him. It seemed to be a subject of considerable attention, as the two "had a long chatter" about it.

The next morning Albert realized that he only had enough food to make it out of there and back to Toba Inlet. He knew had to leave - even if it meant shooting his way out. He wasn't sure what direction he would have to travel but figured that if he went downhill, he would eventually find civilization someplace. He put the rest of his food in his pack, and loaded a shell into the barrel of his rifle. With a deep breath, he started for the opening where the "old man" sat. The father stood up and pushed Albert back... It became very apparent that Albert wasn't allowed to leave. Albert pointed to the opening and told the old man that he wanted to pass through. The old man kept pushing, and said something that Albert would later describe as sounding like "Soka Soka".

Albert backed up to about 60 feet. He would need the space he figured, if he was going to shoot his way out. Then he remembered that he only had six shells, and wasn't perfectly sure that the first one would kill the old man. What it might do, Albert figured, is make the old man extremely angry, and thus wouldn't allow time to get another shell injected into the barrel before Albert took a shellacking. Albert figured that there must be another way out of there, without killing the old man. He went back to his campsite and started to work on plan B...

"I could make friends with the young fellow or the girl, they might help me. If I only could talk to them. Then I thought of a fellow who saved himself from a mad bull by blinding him with snuff in his eyes. But how will I get near enough to this fellow to put snuff in his eyes? So I decided next time I give the young fellow my snuff box to leave a few grains of snuff in it. He might give the old man a taste of it.

But the question is, in what direction will I go, if I should get out? I must have been near 25 miles northeast of Toba Inlet when I was kidnapped. This fellow must have travelled at least 25 miles in the three hours he carried me. If he went west we would be near salt water — same thing if he went south — therefore he must have gone northeast. If I then keep going south and over two mountains, I must hit salt water someplace between Lund and Vancouver.

The following day I did not see the old lady till about 4:00 p.m. She came home with her arms full of grass and twigs and of all kinds of spruce and hemlock as well as some kind of nuts that grow in the ground. I have seen lots of them on Vancouver Island. The young fellow went up the mountain to the east every day, he could climb better than a mountain goat. He picked some kind of grass with long sweet roots. He gave me some one day — they tasted very sweet. I gave him another snuff box with about a teaspoon of snuff in it. He tasted it, then went to the old man — he licked it with his tongue. They had a long chat. I made a dipper from a milk can. I made many dippers — you can use them for pots too — you cut two slits near the top of any can — then cut a limb from any small tree — cut down back of the limb down the stem of the tree — then taper the part you cut from the stem. Then cut a hole in the tapered part, slide the tapered part in the slit you have made in the can, and you have a good handle on your can. I threw one over to the young fellow, that was playing near my camp, he picked it up and looked at it then he went to the old man and showed it to him. They had a long chatter. Then he came to me, pointed at the dipper then at his sister. I could see that he wanted one for her too. I had other peas and carrots, so I made one for his sister. He was standing only eight feet away from me. When I had made the dipper, I dipped it in water and drank from it, he was very pleased, almost smiled at me. Then I took a chew of snuff, smacked my lips, said that's good.

The young fellow pointed to the old man, said something that sounded like "Ook." I got the idea that the old man liked snuff, and the young fellow wanted a box for the old man. I shook my head. I motioned with my hands for the old man to come to me. I do not think the young fellow understood what I meant. He went to his sister and gave her the dipper I made for her. They did not come near me again that day. I had now been here six days, but I was sure I was making progress. If only I could get the old man to come over to me, get him to eat a full box of snuff that would kill him for sure, and that way kill himself, I wouldn't be guilty of murder.

The old lady was a meek old thing. The young fellow was by this time quite friendly. The girl would not hurt anybody. Her chest was flat like a boy's — no development like young ladies. I am sure if I could get the old man out of the way I could easily have brought this girl out with me to civilization. But what good would that have been? I would have to keep her in a cage for public display. I don't think we have any right to force our way of life on other people, and I don't think they would like it. (The noise and racket in a modern city they would not like any more than I do.)

The young fellow might have been between 11-18 years old and about seven feet tall and might weight about 300 lbs. His chest would be 50-55 inches, his waist about 36-38 inches. He had wide jaws, narrow forehead, that slanted upward round at the back about four or five inches higher than the forehead. The hair on their heads was about six inches long. The hair on the rest of their body was short and thick in places. The women's hair on the forehead had an upward turn like some women have — they call it bangs, among women's hair-do's. Nowadays the old lady could have been anything between 40-70 years old. She was over seven feet tall. She would be about 500-600 pounds.

She had very wide hips, and a goose-like walk. She was not built for beauty or speed. Some of those lovable brassieres and uplifts would have been a great improvement on her looks and her figure. The man's eyeteeth were longer than the rest of the teeth, but not long enough to be called tusks. The old man must have been near eight feet tall. Big barrel chest and big hump on his back — powerful shoulders, his biceps on upper arm were enormous and tapered down to his elbows. His forearms were longer than common people have, but well proportioned. His hands were wide, the palm was long and broad, and hollow like a scoop. His fingers were short in proportion to the rest of his hand. His fingernails were like chisels. The only place they had no hair was inside their hands and the soles of their feet and upper part of the nose and eyelids. I never did see their ears, they were covered with hair hanging over them.

If the old man were to wear a collar it would have to be at least 30 inches. I have no idea what size shoes they would need. I was watching the young fellow's foot one day when he was sitting down. The soles of his feet seemed to be padded like a dog's foot, and the big toe was longer than the rest and very strong. In mountain climbing all he needed was footing for his big toe. They were very agile. To sit down they turned their knees out and came straight down. To rise they came straight up without help of hands or arms. I don't think this valley was their permanent home. I think they move from place to place, as food is available in different localities. They might eat meat, but I never saw them eat meat, or do any cooking.

I think this was probably a stopover place and the plants with sweet roots on the mountain side might have been in season this time of the year. They seem to be most interested in them. The roots have a very sweet and satisfying taste. They always seem to do everything for a reason, wasted no time on anything they did not need. When they were not looking for food, the old man and the old lady were resting, but the boy and the girl were always climbing something or some other exercise. A favorite position was to take hold of his feet with his hands and balance on his rump, then bounce forward. The idea seems to be to see how far he could go without his feet or hands touching the ground. Sometimes he made 20 feet.

Albert Ostman in 1977

Albert couldn't stop wondering what they wanted with him... Had he become their pet? Was he livestock?

He never once felt threatened, but still wondered how this ordeal was going to end. They surely must have known that he couldn't stay there indefinitely. Interestingly enough, the old man was coming closer and closer to Albert each day. He seemed very interested in Albert's can of snuff, and one morning after breakfast, the old man and the boy came over and sat down just ten feet away from Albert. He was making a pot of coffee, with shag and branches for kindling, and with a match, he ignited the labels from his cans to start the fire.

The coffee was brewed very strong and once it started boiling, it emitted a nice fog of aroma. Albert sat there eating his hard tack which was slathered heavily with butter and sipped his coffee. The old man and the boy continued to watch. Albert smacked his lips... Over dramatizing the effect of the taste of the food. He wanted his captors to really think that he was eating something delicious, and exaggerated this by rubbing his belly and smacking his lips. Albert actually enjoyed the curiosity of his captors.

He set his coffee down and pulled out his can of snuff. He took a small pinch - he only had two cans left - and before he could close the lid, the old man reached out for it. Not wanting to waste it, Albert held it out to him, allowing for him to take a pinch. Instead, the old man grabbed the entire can, and poured it into his mouth. Then, with his tongue, he licked the inside of the tin.

After a few minutes his eyes began to roll over in his head, he was looking straight up. I could see he was sick. Then he grabbed my coffee can that was quite cold by this time, he emptied that in his mouth, grounds and all. That did no good. He stuck his head between his legs and rolled forwards a few times away from me. Then he began to squeal like a stuck pig. I grabbed my rifle. I said to myself, "This is it. If he comes for me I will shoot him plumb between his eyes." But he started for the spring, he wanted water. I packed my sleeping bag in my pack sack with the few cans I had left. The young fellow ran over to his mother. Then she began to squeal. I started for the opening in the wall — and I just made it. The old lady was right behind me. I fired one shot at the rock over her head.

I guess she had never seen a rifle fired before. She turned and ran inside the wall. I injected another shell in the barrel of my rifle and started downhill, looking back over my shoulder every so often to see if they were coming. I was in a canyon, and good travelling and I made fast time. Must have made three miles in some world record time. I came to a turn in the canyon and I had the sun on my left, that meant I was going south, and the canyon turned west. I decided to climb the ridge ahead of me. I knew that I must have two mountain ridges between me and salt water and by climbing this ridge I would have a good view of this canyon, so I could see if the Sasquatch were coming after me. I had a light pack and was making good time up this hill. I stopped soon after to look back to where I came from, but nobody followed me. As I came over the ridge I could see Mt. Baker, then I knew I was going in the right direction.

I was hungry and tired. I opened my packsack to see what I had to eat. I decided to rest here for a while. I had a good view of the mountain side, and if the old man was coming I had the advantage because I was up above him. To get me he would have to come up a steep hill. And that might not be so easy after stopping a few 30-30 bullets. I had made up my mind this was my last chance, and this would be a fight to the finish ... I rested here for two hours. It was 3:00 p.m. when I started down the mountain side. It was nice going, not too steep and not too much underbrush.

When I got near the bottom, I shot a big blue grouse. She was sitting on a windfall, looking right at me, only a hundred feet away. I shot her neck right off.

I made it down the creek at the bottom of this canyon. I felt I was safe now. I made a fire between two big boulders, roasted the grouse. Next morning when I woke up, I was feeling terrible. My feet were sore from dirty socks. My legs were sore, my stomach was upset from that grouse that I ate the night before. I was not too sure I was going to make it up that mountain. I finally made the top, but it took me six hours to get there. It was cloudy, visibility about a mile.

I knew I had to go down hill. After about two hours I got down to the heavy timber and sat down to rest. I could hear a motor running hard at times, then stop. I listened to this for a while and decided the sound was from a gas donkey. Someone was logging in the neighborhood.

I told them I was a prospector and was lost ... I did not like to tell them I had been kidnapped by a Sasquatch, as if I had told them, they would probably have said, he is crazy too.

The following day I went down from this camp on Salmon Arm Branch of Sechelt Inlet. From there I got the Union Boat back to Vancouver. That was my last prospecting trip, and my only experience with what is known as Sasquatches.

(The italic portions are lifted from a conversation Albert had with author John Green. The story was later recounted in John Green's book, Sasquatch: The Apes Among Us.)

Des Moines ProBoards

http://desmoinesmusic.proboards.com/index.cgi Here's a fellow site that shares Des Moines' news and everything music. Remember, sharing is caring folks!

Coffee Shop Blogging

Geez... Where have I been?

The last time I posted anything on here was years ago, it seems. Through a long series of unfortunate events, I lost my internet connection at home about a month ago. It's taken me this long to find a suitable spot for blogging... One that fit's my criteria, which is basically anywhere that isn't a library. I found a groovy little coffee shop on the Newton square that has free wi-fi and this customer base creates a suitable atmosphere for blogging. I am surrounded by hipsters, chicksters, old lady teacher types and liberals... Which make a for a relaxing setting. It's not too quiet, but the background noise isn't enough to pull my focus away from the deed at hand. The name of this place is Uncle Nancy's and it sits on the town square... Whenever you visit Newton and you are in need of an afternoon red-eye, this is the place.

I am a bit rusty. This writing thing isn't something that one can walk away from and then just dive back into head first. I have several drafts started that need finishing, and (lack of) motivation has been a factor. It's a building process, and I am thinking it requires taking baby steps. Finding this hip little wi-fi spot is a huge step forward.

I have given Facebook Page administrator duties to the lovely Rita S, as she has around-the-clock internet connection AND a firm grasp of the local music scene. She will keep you posted with the latest occurences, and general information as it comes to fruition. She will also be given correspondant duties and access to the the blog itself, and we look forward to her creative input. That's one way we are "growing" into the new year.

(If you want to "LIKE" our Facebook page, you can find it here.)

Otherwise, I will do my best to update this page as often as possible, and hopefully with 2011 upon us, I will get that cursed internet connection back up...

Thank YOU for 2010! Have a great new years everybody!

Perfect for a Sunday Morning...

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this video is worth a million.

Technicalities

Last week we ran into some technical difficulties here at the Bigfoot Diaries. The hard drive in my laptop crashed on Monday and we were basically out of commision for the entire week. The good news is that it's been repaired. We are up and running again and everything seems to be working beautifully. The only negative to come up is the fact that now we are a week behind in well... Everything.

Thnak you for stopping by, and please be assured that once we get all of our provebial ducks in a row, we will be posting new and exciting stuff on a regular basis again. Meanwhile, check out my new pal on the west coast, Turtle Boy. He is just 18 years old, but has been mixing it up within the ranks of the LA punks for several years now. He is a fixture in the LA local music scene, and catches shows on a regular basis. He has written an excellent review of GWAR's recent show at the House of Blues on Sunset. You can read it HERE. Once we get rolling again, his writing and knowledge of the LA scene will become a regular feature on the Bigfoot Diaries.

Thank you for stopping by... We will be posting again really soon!