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7/16/2020 1:14:52 PM
Punk Genre - Is it really what it is or something else.

7/2/2020 2:56:58 PM
Tell us a story - please share

7/2/2020 2:56:58 PM ---- Updated 7/2/2020 2:59:03 PM

Tell us a story - please share
Here's mine -

The five letters - the Volkswagen - the Border Guard - the FBI - the State Troopers - the arrest - the hotel room - the Judge and his wife:
The setting is in the mid 70's with a postal strike in Canada.
The phone rings. My friend was calling to see if I would be interested in coming along for a ride with him. His mother had five letters that had to be sent to Europe. The idea was drive to the U.S. and drop off the letters at the nearest post office.
This should have been a 5 hour return trip at the most. I called my girlfriend and she also agreed to come along for the ride,
Little did we know about the adventure we sere embarking on.
Off we went. Destination, Massena N.Y. via Cornwall Ont.
At the American Border Station, we were greeted by a guard who seemed pleasant. I had this mindset that we were going to be waved through like it used to be when I was a kid. My grandparents lived in Cornwall where I would spend a month every summer. On Sundays, after dinner, we would go to Massena and be waved through. They had the only Dairy Queen around.
This is where the real adventure begins.
The guard asked my friend the 3 basic questions. Where are you going, why are you going there and are you 3 related. The answers were, Massena, mail 5 letters and, no we're not related. He told us to wait and went inside. He came back out with a second guard. The second guard asked my friend the same 3 questions and my friend gave the same answers. My friend was then asked to open the front trunk. It was packed tight with camping gear. At that point we were escorted into the station and from that moment the initial guard was with us all the time, hand on his holster, while the other one emptied the trunk and examined every item.
It was 4 PM.
At this point we were separated into interrogations rooms. My friend was put in a room with no window and we only saw him briefly at midnight. My girlfriend and myself were in rooms with a window and I could see she was crying. We were grilled with questions, over and over. The guard who was handling me said that they were on the phone with the FBI and the New York State Troopers.
Ended up that only the State Troopers were interested. They showed up at midnight, went into my friend's interrogation room, came back out with my friend in handcuffs and off they went to who knows where. My girlfriend and I were released and told to go back to Canada. We walked the 2 bridges that span the St. Lawrence River and arrived in Cornwall.
So there we were, in Cornwall. It's 1 AM, and we only had 9 dollars between my girlfriend and myself. Obviously, we had to find a place for the night. The first motel couldn't take us for that amount of money but the clerk made a call and told us that the Cornwallis Hotel would take us for 9 dollars. I new where the place was and we settled in there for the night.
At 5 AM there was a knock at the door. It was my friend. He told us that he was arrested for possession with intent to distribute and sell. They had found three seeds of you know what.
He was arraigned at a judge's house at 3 AM who summarily dismissed the charge and sternly told the State Troopers to wait outside with instructions to drive him back to the Canadian border. He then woke up his wife so she could sell him stamps in order to mail the letters. He then went outside and instructed the Troopers to stop at the first mail box.
And the mission was accomplished.


Now, it's your turn to tell a story

7/3/2020 4:48:36 AM

ok I got a story but it's a tragic tale.

One of my high school buddies got with this girl who was a complete mess. Several times in our presence she attempted suicide. Once trying to jump out of a moving car, and the other time, well one New Years Eve, she came down the stairs with a mouth full of pills, swallowed them, and we spent our New Years Eve night in the hospital as she went into a coma. She did live though.

Anyway she had a pretty tragic life previous to this. She just happened to have a brother who was one of my best friends in elementary school. He and another friend and I would do comedy skits, our version of the 3 Stooges. so one night, this boy went out ice skating on the local lake with his dad and sister. The ice was cracked and he fell in. The dad dived in to save him and they both went under and drowned. The sister crawled back home 3 miles with a broken leg only to tell her mom that her husband and son fell thru the ice and didn't come back up.

The last part of this story happened several years later with the mother returning to the same spot on the lake wasted and proceeding to drown herself.

7/4/2020 6:43:35 PM

Okay. I had these friends who were Blues musicians. They were much older than me and i met them in the parking lot of the liquor store where they used to sit and play their guitars all day. I was so inspired by them that i bought a guitar and would sit and watch them while trying to figure out how to play. Before long, an old guy we all called "Cool Papa" took me under his wings and started teaching me things on the guitar. Cool Papa was a known guitarist on the chitlin circuit. He had all these stories about playing down South in the jute joints (as he called them), One day they all decided to do a new tour and to my surprise I was invited to play rhythm for $50.00 a week (which was good money for a teenager in the 60's). So, I talked my foster parents into letting me go with them. Hell, they didn't care because they knew they would get paid whether I was there or not.

So, we got all the gear loaded up in the van and we started our journey to down South. Our first gig was in Waxahatchie Texas. Not sure if I spelled that right. But we played at a saloon there and it was a very good gig. Then we went further South to Alabama. Got to the joint and after setting up we began to play. That's when the journey took a turn on us. You see, we didn't know that we were in a country music bar. The people there were all White and wanted to hear country music. Blues was not on their approved list and we started getting heckled. Then, one of those good old boys decided to start throwing shit at us and someone (I never was quite sure who) but someone hit him in the head with a beer bottle and while he lay there on the floor unconscious, I started playing my solo and could not help but to move over to where the body was to kick him and try to get him up. Someone got mad at me for doing that and pushed me to the ground and then total mayhem took over as I watched several members of the band getting beaten up and I busted my new guitar over some drunken idiots head who was trying to grab me. The club caught on fire and everybody had to be evacuated.

Of course, when the cops arrived they blamed the whole thing on us and put us all in jail. Our bail was $10,000.00 each. We sat there in that cell for 3 days until Cool Papas daughter came from Los Angeles to bail us all out. He told us not to worry about the bail because it was all included in our performance fees. I was like what? You mean to tell me that we got paid in advance to get out of jail? He said that it happened all the time on the chitlin circuit and that I should get use it. Well, he wasn't lying. We got arrested 4 times in 4 different cities on that tour. I started calling it the "Get Of Jail" tour. They even arrested me one night for being underage in the bar. Even though I was part of the entertainment and there was an ordinance allowing underage performers. Finally, I got so tired of being in handcuffs that I decided to quit the tour and go back home. Cool Papa was very disappointed in me because he said that this was a normal thing for Black musicians and I should get use to it if I wanted to play. I did get use to it and wound up playing the chitlin circuit several more times. Getting arrested became a normal part of the tour. Sometimes they arrested us just for showing up Black. If it wasn't so painful it would be comical. But that was my introduction to professional touring and I learned how to cower down to the police so they would not arrest me. I also learned how to play country music just in case we had another problem. They would stick me up front because I guess it was sort of a novelty to see someone as young as I was playing in those joints. I even learned how to sing a few country songs. It was a fun but scary introduction to touring and I am so blessed to have had that experience because it taught me a lot about music and performing. I still have a few scars from the fights and police beatings. But that was the most tumultuous band I ever played in Well, maybe not as bad as the reggae band but that's another story altogether. Respect, Stoneman

7/4/2020 7:24:26 PM

What a life you've had, Stoneman!

7/4/2020 7:53:42 PM

Here's another one, a mystical one..

I tried Ouiji Boards but always was left thinking they are nothing, really. but one day at a flea market we found this fortune tellling disc, it was like a dollar so we bought it.

it had this little indicator disc that would float on a light coating of oil. We started asking it questions and it started talking to us, for real.

I have looked and looked to find this item on ebay and such but it is nowhere to be found.

7/5/2020 5:15:42 PM

Ouiji Boards? are really creepy and I don't mess with them anymore. A friend of mine went crazy playing with his. He claimed he was in touch with his dead grandmother. I stopped playing with that dude. He was too weird. But, there are those who believe it is a portal to the spiritual world. The problem with that is if you can open a portal to the spiritual world, shouldn't it be possible that something there can get out? They had my buddy locked up for most of his childhood. Now, he's a crazy homeless man on the streets of L.A.. That's why I don't fuck with those kinds of things.

7/6/2020 6:23:02 AM

Great "Cool Papa' story Stoneman, thanks.

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