Thursday, June 4, 2009

"FIRSTS" in the life a person you thought you knew



First Love: Dorothy Williams. 6' tall and natural blonde.
I was 13 and a half and head over heels over this girl
who liked me a lot, but we never went past the kissing stage.
She lived in a military complex on the border of East Meadow
and Uniondale, Long Island. It was known as Mitchell Manor.

First time I ever stole something: Age 14, I was walking down
a street and saw a killer cigarette lighter on the dashboard of a
car that had the window open. Seconds after I copped it, a huge
Italian guy out of nowhere grabbed me from behind. He had a
firm grip on my white leather jacket, and kept on jogging his
fist into my jaw, until it bled. He had huge rings on fingers. :-)
I have never stolen anything from anyone again since that episode.


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My Friends: Leon, Chris, and Kathy

First real friends: After running away from home at 14, I lived
in abandoned buildings with a bunch of a tough street urchins.
All we did was roam the streets of Hempstead, sneak into the
theaters, and drink and smoke a lot. Just getting in trouble.

First time I ever saw a woman naked: By accident, my mother.
Funny, at the time even though she was beautiful, I just
shook it out my head. I was 9 years old. I don't think it
affected me. Writing this brought that moment up in my head.

First time I was embarressed: Two guys I knew took a girl's
bra. Somehow I was implicated. I really had nothing to do
it, but I did think it was funny at the time. Stupid kid shit.
But when her mother called me out and started yelling at
me, I was totally embarressed, and the two chicken shits that
took it gave it to me to give back. I felt bad for the girl, and
the memory of me handing back the bra to her mother
as she watched made me turn red. Very sad at that.

First tattoo: Once you turn 16 in New York, you are treated as
adult in the court system. So after months in the children's
shelter, shortly after I turned 16, well actually it was the day
I turned 16 I almost killed a teacher. He had said something
to me I didn't like as I was leaving the school after signing
papers that I was officially no longer in school. I came back
an hour later with a few feet of chain and an ice pick.
I was all over this guy and missed his heart by maybe an inch
before two other teachers stomped my wrist and the pick fell.
I got up and swung the chain at them and left. Three days
later I was arrested at a job I had just started. A check factory.
That's where they printed the checks you use. After a stint
in Nassau County Jail, and out on bail, I fucked up one week
later, and was back in the jail again. Now I was facing 7 to
15 years for felonious assault with a deadly weapon, the
original charge. To evaluate me before deciding where to
send me, I was sent to Kings Park Institution. A fucked place
where if you fucked up you might never get out. At least back
then it was that way. It was a crazy farm.

Okay, so what's that got to do with my first tattoo? Well,
now I was in a place just like jail that the age ran from 16
to older adults. Banding together with six others, we formed
a click. An older black man Otis tattooed all of us on our
left arm with a cross and our name under it. I told him to just
put "John", which drove my mother insane. She hated that
tat. Now remember, this is not a place that had equipment.
This was 1962. While drinking Aqua Velva after shave lotion,
I shit you not (it has alcohol content), he used a large baby
diaper pin with bakery thread wrapped around the end, then
dipping it into a bottle of balck india ink. He then jabbed his
way through this ritual. At the time I didn't care how fucked
up it looked. But one side effect was that tattoo was raised
up on my arm. Literally. You could feel it. Took years
before it went smooth. I've had it covered twice over the years.

First sexual experience: Age 14. I picked up a girl walking
down Hempstead Boulevard. She lived not to far. Her name
was Carol. A large buxom blonde. She wore a girdle. We had sex,
if you want to call it that in the back of her house standing and
leaning against the garage. She says to me "don't make noise,
my dad is home." Trying to pull the girdle down and trying to
enter was becoming a problem, and I came so fast, it was over.
She got angry and told me to leave. Gladly I did.


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Jayne Mansfield

First Celebrity I got to touch: Jayne Mansfield. For those of
you who don't know who she is, let's just say she was the
alternative to Marilyn Monroe.

She and husband, body builder Mickey Hargitay made a stage
appearance at the Hempstead Theater, and us street urchins
were in the front row. After they left the stage we all ran up to her
and I got to touch her hair and arm. It was awesome!

First real Celebrity kiss on lips: Well, really more of a friend.
Joan Jett always kisses me on the lips.

First Musician I told to Fuck Off: Eric Bloom of Blue Oyster Cult.
I was interviewing him for my magazine Newsreal in Tucson 1977.
We were outside of a hotel where there were lounge chairs and
umbrellas. I had the tape recorder on and asking him questions.
All he did was ignore me and look at every "skirt" that walked
by. I got up and told him to "fuck off you asshole" and left. My
photographer grabbed the recorder and ran.

First concert: Burt Bacharach with opening act The Carpenters.
It was the first touring ever for The Carpenters. It was at the
Westbury Music Fair, a theatre in the round. I had been to numerous club
shows in the '60s, but this was the first official concert for me in 1970.