it was Winter in Southern California. The skies were cloudy, and it was raining. The year was 1981. I was in seventh grade.

 

We were in the gym because we couldn't go outdoors during physical education period. I was sitting with some friends, and we were talking. About what? I can't remember. This kid I didn't know was looking at what I called a magazine. But he refered to it as a Fanzine. I asked what the difference was, and he said this one dealt with LA hard-core punk. I found it interesting, and I think i read an article about the band Fear.

 

I had never seen such things in magazines that were in this one. There was cussing, which i found hilarous. The kid I was talking to was named Kenny. He said if I was interested that I could come over to his house and hear some of the bands that were in the Fanzine. I agreed. Besides, I had nothing better to do.

 

At his house we listened to The Clash, The Sex Pistols, The Germs, GBH, etc. I instantly fell in love with this music. It sounded like how I felt at the time. Aggressive and raw. I borrowed a couple of the albums he had, and played them over and over. It was so cool. I was in heaven.

 

It wasn't long before i shaved my head, and started dressing in punk attire. We went all the way to Hollywood to a shop called Posuers on Melrose Ave. Even though I couldn't afford the clothes, I loved them. There were all kind of silk-screened t-shirts, bondage pants, creepers, and of course boots, lots and lots of boots.

 

About three weeks after I met Kenny, I was invited to my first punk rock party. It was awesome. There were punks from all over the IE. I learned how to skank and slam dance at the party. I thought I was something special. There was a local band called the Fuckheads playing. And when a punk named Belson got hit over the head with a 40 bottle, they sang "There's a fight in the backyard, there's a fight in the backyard."

 

I met some people that I ended up getting really close to in years to follow. Jules, Belson, Bently, Keno, etc.

 

I continued going to parties like this for the duration of my teenage years. And I had some up and downs. I did alot of drugs, and overdrank every weekend. I had really found who I was, and it was nice to have a group to belong to. I was on the top of the world. These experiences formed who I would be for many years to come. Actually, I am still that 12 year old little kid going to my first punk rock party. I can't seem to get over it, even now at the age of 37.