Joe E.'s latest is known as "The Rock" a cool sports [and sometimes Fetish] bar adjacent to the MCI Arena that is taking shape down near ChinaBlock downtown.
I've started my bicycle repair business out of my garage. I'm running it as an under-the-table "hobby" this year to see how it will help my taxes (cash, *ss, or ***ss - anything tax free). Its been a steady flow of bikes in so its helping defray my credit card debts amassed in the past couple years, yea!
Wednesday, May 14th, 97:: I seem to remember an old college dormmate interviewing out in California prior to your graduation and that's when I got the bug and realized there is life after PA. So, Mssr. Gary Neahgroh, thank you for inspiring me with wanderlust.
You know, in six days it will be lucky 13 years that I graduated college. Makes me kinda weepy. So let's try and roll along back upstream through that river of tears that has flowed under the proverbial bridge during all that time.
O.K., let me try and catch U'all up from the early eighties. After graduating in May 1984, I worked at a photo lab for the summer with HaWayynne doing the night shift repairing high volume film processing lab equipment for the tri-state area of Ahia, Western PA, and of course Wild, Wonderful, West Virginia. If you snapped it and took it to the drug store for overnight processing, we saw it. And if you hear someone say, "they'll won't print that," don't believe 'um. Instead the good shots were duped and made the assistant supervisor's corkboard. What all did we see? Ask me.
I remember watching Grewal hammer in the road race through the beautiful terra-cotta-roofed houses in Mission Viejo, Lionel Ritchie at the Coliseum and everything about the summer Olympics in LA and dreamin' of being there. That California Dreamin' hasn't left me as we'll find out.
In that autumn, I started my career as a rocket scientist by landing a j-o-b at a rocket plant thirty miles out in the desert west of a small Mormon community an hour north of Salt Lake City. I worked for Morton Thiokol in Brigham City, Utah from October 1984 to September 1987 on ICBMs like the MX (Peacekeeper) missiles, Trident sub-launched ICBMs and other weapons of mass destruction. Knowing that yer workin' on something that could wipe out the world in half an hour or so was a good feeling, especially if you're a young man in your twenties living in Utah with Reagan getting voted into his second term. Believe me, I worked hard to be sure those babies were gonna work and good, uh huh.
That California Dreamin' feeling struck again on New Year's morning watching the Rose Bowl Parade on the big screen TV at a rec room in a Nursing Home as I was performing public service for a traffic infraction. Let's just say I didn't remember anything past the second double of Wild Turkey at 10:30PM at The Zephyr Club in Salt Lake when I was pulled over doing 22 MPH on the freeway 20 miles north at Farmington, UT at about 3:00AM. At my sentencing, the fair Mormon judge said, "In Utah, we don't sell a drink, we sell a drunk," [referring to the mini-bottle service].
As a result my employment there, I faced another trial by fire. I experienced the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster (NASA's version) from the inside out since I was working in a design group that was parallel to the group that built the ill-fated Shuttle boosters at Thiokol. I remember discussions of the telecons early that evening before the launch and the bad feelings in all the guts permeated the room. We saw both NASA and Thiokol management overriding the engineering data that pointed to exactly what happened that next day. I remember leaving work about ten o'clock on the night before feeling sick with dread and hoping something, anything would change the launch decision. The next day I was on my way to the closed circuit TV viewing of the launch but was pulled into a meeting at Jerry's CM sign-off table by Royce W. on my way there. Then when we heard it announced what happened, boy was it awful. What a black day. I still well up in my throat when I hear "Go at Throttle up" on current Shuttle launches. Every one of them.
After gaining that black mark on my resume' and seeing a lot of the West, I moved to Washington, DC at a high school / hometown / fellow PSU alumnus friend's suggestion, this after I searched in vain for over a year for a job in California. Two weeks after I took a job in the Washington area that I was hired over the phone for, a San Francisco Bay area job offer came through, but I decided to decline, oh well. I still want to live in that City by the Bay (or L.A. for that matter). But here we are, still lovin,' as The Artist Who Shares My Birthday says, this [wacky] thang called Life.
So I worked on building and launching spy satellites for the Navy in McLean, Va. But my liberal blue-collar Steeltown roots went too far against the conservatism of that job so I landed work supporting the Space Shuttle program at NASA Headquarters right behind the National Air and Space Museum just off the Mall in DC. I really enjoyed working in the city but when the contract dried up, I jumped up to Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, MD about twenty minutes away to work more directly on the engineering aspects of the placement of payloads (experiments) on the Space Shuttle.
I live just off 16th Street, NW in a neighborhood of Washington, DC known as Dupont Circle. 16th Street leads due North from the White House where it gets it 1600 Pennsylvania Ave. address from. So when we cross 16th street in the evenings, we can see the White House lit up about 15 blocks away. Dupont Circle is a predominantly gay neighborhood. It is fun living in the downtown because we are not enslaved to our cars to enjoy nightlife. We get around by walking or taxicab since parking is always a bear in downtown. My motorbike that I've had for almost ten years now makes for great parking ease, however. I own a BMW R65 street bike [but please don't tell my folks, its the one secret I keep from them so they won't worry]. I really love motorcycling and the BMW's is very appealing even if it is not as loud as a Harley or have the quickness of the Japanese sportbikes. I do like Harley's and Honda's but the BeeMer is just a much more all-around machine for me. I just love the freedom motorcycling provides and I manage the risk using my common sense so I find it truly enjoyable.
I met my wife Pamela five years ago this coming September in a local dive bar that everyone in the neighborhood hangs out at. She sparked up a conversation with me to talk to my buddy Danny who she was trying to set up with a friend she was out hanging out with. Pamela was on a date at the time so we just exchanged numbers and then she said she was going to a bar down the street. I later went over to that bar [El Azteca] and she was bored so we went out on the dance floor and then she pushed me against a column and kissed me. Needless to say, I pursued her further after that night and here we are. We got married last July here in DC. She grew up in Falls Church, VA just outside DC so I believe we'll settle here, probably staying in the City if we could ever afford the high housing prices. We are very fortunate to be very, very compatible in our values, family backgrounds and lifestyle. Our mutual respect for each other results in our NEVER having arguments. We both give more than we take so our cups runneth over all the time. I feel so thankful to have found my soulmate. Our vocations are so different (she is a documentary producer for the Discovery and Learning Channels) so that helps further enrich our lives together because she is the artist and I the scientist with artful longings.
We have a cat "Bootie" who is our "little one" until we get further set to start a family. We're in synch in that we're just not ready for kids yet, financially and commitment-wise. With my taking Methotrexate for psoriatic arthritis I came down with a six years ago, it has also been hard deciding how I'll get off it for 3-6 months and manage the pain that will come with the hiatus needed to be sure I have no chromosome damage. I sank so far into myself with the pain before I was being treated, it was really, really hard on our relationship. Its tough to "feel randy" when one's self-esteem is shattered by the ravages that arthritis causes. I hated myself and therefore couldn't find room to love. Now through a strict healthy diet and complementary medicines along with the Diclofenac and this second-line-agent, I have my life back. I had a bad few episodes of Iritis (autoimmune inflammation of the Iris) that the psoriatic arthritis caused also so that was a scary time (intra-ocular injections and what-not) also. Now a cataract is growing in my right eye but that is apparently very treatable so I just no longer allow this doggone disease get into my psyche. Pamela has had the courage to stick by me through all of my downward spiraling, so we both know now to strive to give each other happiness because we realize it is so precious and fleeting in this world can be filled with so much pain and suffering.
I do keep in touch with some of my PSU Nittany dorm buddies [PC-CR's link to a picture in front of Nittany 33 where my buddy Pat C. built a snowperson in the image of "Red" the big woman of "Potluck" Dining Hall] like Pat McS. who fills me in on Brian M., S. Klusi, Kirk J.B., Tina D., among others. I haven't heard from any of the Pittsburgh folks like John Nap'ski or the Philly boys like Sev and Kachz and Yo Har Butler since right after college. I'm also curious where Eric L(RA) and Andy (Easton, PA) ended up. I don't care where any of the turfers or twiggers ended up. The refining process of higher education was lost on them. I kept in touch with Gary Rauschman until about six years ago.
Friday, May 16th, 97:: So here it is FRIDAY, yea! We're headed to the beach although it seems like it will be almost chilly there. I love the flat road riding I can get in there. We're going down to celebrate Pamela's mom's belated Mother's day with her family so it will be fun, even without my usual morning baked goods (and mid-morning, and afternoon, and evening, and late night) on the porch but that's what bike rides are for.
So what's up for Memorial Day weekend for you? We'll be in town Saturday is the Crow Bar's Biker Bash III block party and Sunday is Rolling Thunder when the hundreds of motorbikes roll thru DC. Those Harley dudes don't think much of us BMW riders but I'm there in spirit with them as I will try to sneak in on the back end because I definitely don't want any of those boys pissed at me. We have tickets for U2 at RFK Monday night to close out the weekend, whoopee!!
I just can't believe that Bob G. and Linda are expecting. Funny, I just don't feel like we're all getting to be this age. I think because I missed my early twenties holed up in a PSU engineering lab and then stuck in Utah that I'm just now growing up. Oh, how wacky life is.
I cycled by the Korean War memorial last weekend for the first time. I remember peeking through the fence at its construction one day when I took that ride and hike over to Roosevelt Island with Jean-Jeannie. I also checked out the new FDR memorial, its beautiful also, even with the airplanes screaming overhead.
Pamela and I are just coming off a three-day weekend of fun:
Saturday, May 24th, 97: Saturday we attended Steve Zarpas' Crow Bar's "Biker Bash III" block party held the day prior to the morning ride of the thousands of bikes, predominantly American Steel. They roll from the Pentagon up past Arlington Cemetery across Memorial Bridge then around the seats of power here to remind them audibly of the cause they rode for. The procession then ended up at the "Wall" and all folks assembled at the Reflecting Pool.
At Steve's event, two and a half blocks on both sides of the service lanes down the normally lawyerful K Street, NW had probably a thousand bikes. One particularly well-ridden large touring model boxer with Alaska tags was the most distant ride I saw.
A very well decorated, festive and gentle crowd attended Steve's gig at his downtown bar. This included "motocat," the helmet-wearing house cat that was perched on a piece of carpet that ran along the topside of a well-worn '80's Honda v-twin sportbike like a British racing stripe.
Headliner "Roc 'kin roll Hoochie Koo" Rick Derringer was the featured performer and he really put on an enjoyable show of 70's guitar rock-n-roll. He also did a song he wrote in 1965 that is now the only official State "Rock-n-Roll" song, "Hang on Sloopy." What state is it, you may very well ask? Ask the ladies that run this place. It was really great to "feel the road" as we partyed with the bikers that came to town for Rolling Thunder, thousands of Harley-Davidsons rolling thru town for the POW-MIA cause is an awesome power to listen to.
Then Saturday night we all gathered at Joe E's former corporate headquarters, the current loft apartment of Mssr. Chris C, where we partied until 3:00AM with then very near future groom, Danny.
Sunday, May 25th, 97: We attended the wedding of Danny O. and Sheila K. I know Danny through Mr.C and Sheila was yet another alumnus of the T Street House. They had a beautiful Jewish ceremony and reception at the Sewell-Belmont house, the museum of the Suffragettes' in the shadow of the Supreme Court on the Hill. It was raining so hard during the ceremony that the din of the downpour on the party tent made the audible portion of the ceremony known only to the rabbi and the future husband and wife. It became a strictly visual experience to all others in the room. It felt like a Woody Allen movie, it became almost surreal that the passion of the event was being reflected in ever-increasing intensity of the now driving rain as all eyes focused on the subtle smiles, gestures and actions of the three lead characters in the real-life movie scene playing out before us. The only sound heard throughout the room was the breaking glass as Danny stepped on it.
The crowd was an excellent mix of Sheila's North Woods' salt-of-the-earth roots and Danny's Philly Jewish contingent. Among Sheila's friends that I knew was her colleague, the lovely and very sharp Nan W, looking simply ravishing in her red dress. At first, I could only place her as a pretty woman that I had met previously in one of the many venues for revelry this crazy, kooky kinda town is made up of. When our paths crossed in the hallway and we chatted, I immediately remembered her lightning quick wit and remembered that she was in attendance at one of Johnny and Adele's "SpinArt" functions in the basement of the Big Hunt [the "Little Hunt"] with the newlyweds, Danny and Sheila.
How I miss Adele and SpinArt.
I love weddings because of all the romance in the air and all the ladies, ESPECIALLY my Baby were dressed so sharp [and now because weddings always reminds me of July 20th, the greatest day in my life]. Sheila looked like Audrey Hepburn, and we all know there is no topping that look. Some of the old gang's lovely ladies were there, Karen, one of the famous "Cherry Bounce" dancers at Joe's very first venue, Club Random, the ever lovely "Vee-luv" ya goils, Shelly and Kim and the beautiful 2020 Klingle alumnus Lisa O. The local boys of the old school were represented by Lisa O's husband Jason, a brilliant sculptor and fellow Beemer brethren, Mssr. Michael the Farmer, and JoJo along with Paul Shil-lawn and Mister Chris C. who were part of the groomsmen who served as bearers of the unique "portable" huppa.
Adele and her fiancee Ralph flew up from the "Quarter" to attend as well. They live just down the street to the left and will be periodically standing in this picture, so click and look for them. After the wedding, the four of us unfortunately skipped what was I'm sure a tres cool after-wedding party at Sir Andre's rented suite and instead got together back at our place to hang with Bootie and surf the 'net. We sent an e-mail to the White House because Ralph had a trophy he won as a youth at a State Fair that then Gov. Clinton attended and he wants Bill and Hill to sign it, just for the heck of it. Then we went to Ralph's brother Kirk's web page. Kirk is obviously a brilliant physicist with an artistic side as deep as his science side, spiced with that cajun edge that only our friends from the Big Easy have. Adele and I recited a story contained on one of his many links, "Fleertup, the Happy Pig." The audience was rollin' in the aisles as we read with the enthusiasm of adults reading an adult style children's story to adults. Ralph is a wonderful sensitive man with a strong depth of character. His stories of the television industry from the vantage point of his position at the Neau Ore-lins NBC affiliate were fascinating.
Monday, May 26th, 97: Monday night my lovely wife Pamela and I attended the U2 POPMART concert at RFK Stadium with Pamela's sister Lisa and her husband Gus. The four of us had so much fun. Lisa is a great sister to me with a low maintenance attitude toward life that PhD's uniquely possess. I always savor her company. Gus is a wonderful soft-spoken man who has an intense love of music. He got us great seats that had the perfect vantage point of the 75 X 50 yard "POPMART" video screen. Sitting not far from us was a wonderful friend and former colleague Adriana who recently oversaw the launch of Timothy Leary and Gene Roddenberry to their final resting place amongst the stars. We also saw Johnny and his awesome [Sportster-riding!] ladyfriend Kathy a few rows in front of us as well. Johnny came by with his characteristic apple so we tasted the sweet fruits of his labor.
I was so happy and fulfilled to finally being able to sing and dance all those post-teenage angst songs to someone instead of dreaming who I'd be with to do that. Marriage is such a great institution. It is so neat how its different for everybody but the same for all, and its all good, baybee.
Leaving the concert and returning to my '83 R65 BMW motorcycle parked at 16th and East Capitol Street, NE just west of Eastern High School and on a block chock full of unsavory characters hanging out in front of the low rise low rent rowhouses, I found someone had attempted to unload me of my machine as evidenced by the bent foot shift lever and Kryptonite lock on the rear wheel wrapped well up into the rear fender. That lock always prevents rolling of the machine as I learned on one or two occasions when I started off on the bike in front of bars after a couple of drinks when I used to foolishly mix alcohol with motorcycling in my twenties. So I was happy that the lock denied the criminal element with taking something else that wasn't theirs, namely my stuff. I've replaced three ignition switches, two steering locks and have picked my bike up off the street more than once from rambunctious youths kicking it over "for fun" so I know that feeling of having my cherished little chunk of private urban space being violated all too well. We rode home beating the throng of traffic and were back in time for a nightcap and the last of the A & E TV "Biography" show marathon held on the holiday weekend.
The days on the weekend were spent sleeping late, eating and napping more. Trouble is, I always need a three-day weekend after these holidays.
We are looking forward to a kids-only weekend at the beach soon. The deck at the Ivy Cottage was extended four feet on the front so that leaves more room for Nick to knock wine goblets over into the driveway. I miss those kids-only good times. Been seeing a lot of Tony lately at his place so that's always nice. He's such a good neighbor. Gotta get down to brunch at the hotel and see Paula soon.
We're going to Pittsburgh in two weeks to celebrate not only The Artist [formerly known as "Prince"]'s birthday, June 7th, but mine also. But um not sure what this weekend holds just yet. We'll keep ya posted.
Tuesday, May 27nd, 97: Thinking of my dear old friend Rudy Valentino reminds me of so many wonderful times we all blew out our twenties with, like the night we all were at critical mass in the downstairs of the 1700 block T Street, NW grouphouse when Steve, Paul, Rudy and I rode around the two living rooms on our bicycles then set out for an all night summer two-wheeled sojuorn through the wilds of NE down to H St. NE, the home of WMMJ Majic 103 and the all night DJ, Mr. Bernard Crauwlee. We all ended up at dawn at one of the barometers of the City, the Florida Ave. Grill at Fla Ave. and 11th Street, Norfwes. The area was still planked pavement where they had it torn up for the Green Line Metro construction, giving it even more the look of the urban-blight "bombed out" neighborhood feel than it already has.
I'm also reflecting on the precious weekend we spent with Rudy's brother Barry. I remember realizing I really liked this cool dude I just met when, after we hit the street because my keg kicked while we were partying at my first DC apartment in Adams Morgan, unbeknownst to me Barry had snagged the bottle of frozen vodka out of the 'fridge and revealed by then taking a big swig on it at the corner of 18th and California Streets, NW, to show that he was in possession of that dutiful soldier for us to further stoke the coals as we wandered en masse up 18th Street on the way into I don't remember what form of revelry I'm sure we celebrated after that. Or the time we all sprawled and snuggled on the many chairs, blanket covered sofas and ottomans at the T Street House and watched Barry's videos of the gothic robot warrior battles put on by his buddies from the Exploratorium and the video of the "Mud" festival as the people got into character with early Spring mud from vacant lots in Chinatown and then wandered through the financial district of that gentle City of Atlantis on the Bay, marking all signs of late '80's greed with that equalizing and humbling mix the "savages" all carried in those fast food 5 gallon pickle slice buckets.
Barry's warm smile and impish character was robbed early from us when God chose to take him in the ill-fated PanAm 103 bombing. I learned then that God never lets the really good ones away from his side for long, unfortunately for all of us here. I KNOW his spirit is right here with us, but boy do I miss Barry's playful physical presence among us.
Ah, the good old days. Rudy in fact was the first resident of DC I met (along with Joe E, Nellie and Mssr. Jay-beau) as we all strolled down to the first bar I had a drink at in DC, the "Box Of Clowns" [the Fox and Hounds] when I caught Potomac fever and settled here ten years ago this September. Rudy Valentino lived up to that name and was always with a beautiful lady, I hope that is true today for him (and her), too.
In my recent missive with Sir Rudy, I was so glad to hear he sounds in good and deeply reflective spirits and that the Bay Area is treating him well. It is one of my favorite places on the Planet that I have seen thus far so its good to hear from one of the most kindred spirits that resides in that mystical, magical City of Love.
5/31/97 Its finally warming up here. Mainly its just getting sticky. Life in the swamp here, instead I wish I was twistin' the wrist down the I-10 from Santa Monica thru Downtown LA where the freeway runs real close to the buildings. I wanna see that old part of Downtown where Nicholas Cage lives. Gotta be cool if he's there. I remember sitting in the Insect Club's darken "make-out" back room and Mr. Cage leaned out in his seat from the other side of a tall blonde who had her hair occluding a view of his face. I have a cool e-pal who I met through her journal page on E!. I find it very entertaining reading about the most fascinating business, but isn't a career always so glamorous from the outside? You can always get me in near real-time at work. Went to Steve's Zarpas' Crowbar's Biker Bash III during Memorial Day weekend. It was held as a precursor to the Rolling Thunder event. It was a total high school throwback that included four blocks of bikes parked down the service roads on K Street, NW. My work at Swales for NASA Goddard has been busy, especially with the 11-month slip of launch of Space Station elements. Since we fill in the cargo bay as "space" becomes available (so to speak), we stuff payloads in around the biggies. Now the biggies have gone to the right on the schedule and the Shuttles are gassed up and ready to go. So we at Goddard play the good guy and fly University-level and even K-12 stuff in the cargo bay to increase the Shuttle's "load factor" [payload weight to performance value]. Its all very real science and even if its not necessarily complex, when a kid fills a vial full of potting soil and flys it, gets it back and then grows seeds in it, I'd love to have the chance to germinate some "Northern Lights" from that soil. I cherish the objects flown in space I've received for my work being a "rockit man." It makes all the BS paperwork and bureaucracy worth it. Yesterday we had to move a payload we're wrapping for shipment to KSC on Monday because the Tropical Rainforest Measurement (TRRM) spacecraft was being transported on a crane down the hanger for ground transportation readiness. Another one out the door. It will eventually be bolted to a Japanese H-II and ride the 15g's to its place in the heavens to oversee the mess we're making of the planet's cradle of life. Boys will be boys, every fifteen minutes or so I believe is the last consensus. Sorry about the memory de-stabilizing CPU hogging lifted animated graphics and embedded sounds on mi page. My ISP doesn't handle peak loads well, unfortunately. But now after I've accumulated those four-digit extentions of people there right to the President's office I gotta stay with them. Or do I start at the bottom somewhere else waiting those dreaded twenty minutes in tech support hell, my ear bathing in Kenny G. or "the Quiet Storm." The best hold music here in DC is on 'A la Carte: "265-TOGO" the salmanella express moped food delivery fleet. So does the inspection of those vehicles fall under the DMV or the Health Dept.? Or do they simply slip through the cracks in between both of those finely grinding bureaucratic millstones? Well, when the moped-er pulls up to your door, tell um Johnny Kay sent 'cha. So now you see how I bring home the bacon. But we're simple, like that. Oh how I miss working downtown in the City [at NASA Headquarters]. Even in SouthWest DC Civil Service hell, it was well inside the City Limits. You should see the McDonald's in Greenbelt on the road to Bowie. Oh boy. Its a world I fear more than the alley at home at night.
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