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That's the short version. To expand on that just a little, mindfulness is a meditation practice that begins with paying attention to breathing in order to focus on the here and now—not what might have been or what you're worried could be. The ultimate goal is to give you enough distance from disturbing thoughts and emotions to be able to observe them without immediately reacting to them.


This gorgeous challah cover will add a touch of color and distinction to your Sabbath table! Here we have a beautiful design, embroiderd with raw silk and featuring the words Shabbat VeYom Tov in Hebrew. This will be a treasured centerpiece in anyone's Sabbath home!
Note: On orders of 50 or more units you may request FREE personalizing (name, date, etc). Please contact customer service for details.


The versatile Everyday Heavy-Duty Banner Display is designed to accommodate both banners and rigid substrate signs in a rugged environment. It adjusts with thumbscrews and is easy to assemble with snap together parts. Use just one side or put two signs or banners back to back.


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Reese Wynans is best known as keyboard legend and member of Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble. Reese was in that iconic band from 1985 until Vaughan's tragic death in 1990. He is releasing his first solo album in his 50-year career, Sweet Release - produced by Joe Bonamassa. The album includes incredible guests including; Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Warren Haynes, Vince Gill, Keb' Mo, Doyle Bramhall II, Bonnie Bramlett, Sam Moore, Chris Layton and more. The whole album is a celebration of the music that influenced Reese and so many others which showcases SRV & Double Trouble songs, Allman Brothers, Tampa Red and more
Label: J&R ADVENTURES
Artist: Reese Wynans & Friends
1. Crossfire
2. Say What!
3. That Driving Beat
4. You're Killing My Love
6. Shape I'm In
7. Hard To Be
8. Riviera Paradise
9. Take The Time
10. So Much Trouble
11. I've Got A Right To Be Blue
12. Soul Island
13. Blackbird

redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


Formed in 1903 as a private company, the golf club has occupied its present location since 1936. The nine-hole course was designed by 1920 British Open Champion George Duncan. It is the only nine-hole course on the Island, but whatever your handicap the course provides a number of interesting challenges combined with spectacular views of the two bays of Port St Mary and its harbour.
Par 68 Men's 5770 from white competition tees, (5314 yards from yellow tees).
Par 70 Ladies' 5271 yards.
Enjoy a round of golf at Castletown and 2 courses of your choice. Choose your golf package, then add your hotel & travel extras today.


Three sectors drove much of the increase: Government, construction and health care.
Adjusting for inflation, GDP tied to construction jumped 13 percent from 2014 to 2015. Developers are starting to build again though the sector still contributes much less to the local economy than it did a decade ago.
The health care sector has grown steadily for years, fueled largely by an aging population. GDP for that sector grew by 6 percent in 2015.
The government sector GDP grew by 2 percent, after adjusting for inflation. Even such modest expansion makes a difference in Sacramento, where government is the largest economic driver.
The Sacramento region's GDP growth was higher than growth in San Diego and Bakersfield and similar to growth seen in Orange County, Los Angeles and Fresno. But it lagged behind booming Silicon Valley, where GDP grew by almost 9 percent, after adjusting for inflation.
Nonetheless, Sacramento and other California regions "are now fully participating in the state's growth," said Stephen Levy, senior economist at the Center for Continuing Study of the California Economy.
This chart shows the annual change in Sacramento's gross domestic product during the last 15 years.


Brief outline: Ruth's mother was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer in 2008. Ruth described how her mother maintained a positive attitude and was not afraid of death.
Background: Ruth is married with two grown-up children. She works fulltime as a self-employed counsellor. Ethnic background' White British.
Ruth was shocked when her mother was diagnosed with terminal cancer; although she didn't have a good relationship with her mother Ruth felt the need to see her every day while she was ill.
Ruth spent several nights at the hospital with her mother because it took longer for her to die than staff expected; she wished the staff could do something to hasten her mother's death.
Ruth is married with two grown-up children. She works fulltime as a self-employed counsellor. Ethnic background' White British.
Because I had an iffy relationship with my mum, not very close and when she was eighty she had this birthday party, first one she's ever had. And a week later went into hospital and when she came out, they hadn't done the operation and I was with her and the Macmillan, not the Macmillan unit. I was with her at the hospital when they told her that she would die of it. It was terminal cancer. I was as shocked as my mum. Well I say that, I probably wasn't as shocked as my mum.
But she was very shaken, very quiet and I thought, "Don't want to deal with this." Anyway, we went to my sister's and I had to tell my sister, which was the hardest thing because we're both crying, but it was shock more than anything because neither of us were that close to her, although she was an okay mum but circumstances.
So but we thought it was in the future so we all got used to it and my mum lived alone and has lots of friends. She's quite social. She had lots of friends and she seemed all okay with it. She was pretty stoic, but I felt the need to see her every day and my sister didn't, as a matter of, my sister's got a disability. So I went to see her, called in there every day and it wasn't a chore because she's quite a positive person but, obviously, she was brave and, except in the night time when she was on her own.
The worst bit was the last two weeks and because of that I really believe in euthanasia because it got so bad she was, I, I imagine that, in the old days, they died screaming in agony with stomach cancer. It started off at her bile duct and it was gradually moving across so it blocked everything. Because they kept her clean, they kept her pain… relatively pain free, but two weeks before she died I went in on the Saturday and she was pretty unconscious by then and she woke up and she was terrified.
She didn't know where she was. She clung to me and she was in pain and I was frightened and I didn't stay with her. I just, "I'll get a nurse. I'll get a nurse." I was really frightened and her, I went down to the nurses place and I said, "You've got to come she's wet and she's scared." Of course, it took a few minutes and that's what made me realise that she was better off in a Macmillan unit because at home you wouldn't get that help. But they came rushing up and they got the doctor and they pushed the medication up and she sank back again. But it really shook me up and I was saying, "Please do something. She's going to die. She's unconscious. What's the point?" And they said, "We keep being asked that but we can't." And then my sister came in on the Sunday and the same thing happened to her. She woke up and my sister did exactly the same as me but she had somebody with her because [Name], a family friend, was with her. So the two of them so it was a bit easier.
But [Name], my brother, was there and we were just waiting. It's so bloody awful to just wait and eventually, it went on a week, and he had, he had to go back to work and we didn't know whether she'd die. Both of us had spent the night there several times and we you're mixing with other people doing the same thing but it seemed to be quicker. It was a long wait and it felt like it would be a relief if she died but the week went on, all her friends came. She had so many people visit her and talk to her, but she wasn't there. And the, all you got was a morphine driver and you had to tell them to clean her and stuff like that. It was dreadful way to end and she, I mean she used to joke, when she, before she got unconscious, because my nephew visited her and she said, "My God, I must near the end if he's visiting." And things like that. She was, when she was awake it was great and she, when we were arguing over the bed once, she said, "Do you mind, I'm trying to die." She was fantastic and that, I guess, we got closer than we'd ever been. I do thank, I am thankful that that happened.
But the last week she was unconscious. It was complete, awful, she was just being, they were waiting for her heart to stop. They said her heart was strong, her lungs were strong but the rest of her body was closing down. There was good stuff. A masseur came and did her feet and things like that.
Ruth's mother was diagnosed with terminal stomach cancer in 2008, shortly after they had celebrated her 80th birthday. Ruth describes how from this point she began spending every day with her mother and during this time they became closer than they had ever been before. Her mother was a very positive and strong character who never normally complained about any ailments, so when she started to talk of pain and discomfort Ruth took this as an indication that the pain must have been fairly severe.
Her illness progressed and Ruth recalls a traumatic experience when her mother called for her during the night. When Ruth arrived her mother was very unwell and she called the NHS helpline and an on-call doctor arrived. Ruth was surprised when the doctor took a urine sample and left, as she felt her mother was obviously very ill and needed more attention. Unsure about what to do, Ruth called her sister and daughter. Once they arrived they decided to call for an ambulance and Ruth's mother was taken to hospital and was given pain relief.
She was admitted to a ward where she could come and go as she pleased. While on this ward, Ruth regularly took her out and describes how, during this time, they grew even closer. Ruth describes how her mother remained 'stoic' 'strong' and 'positive' and maintained a great sense of humour throughout. Ruth explains how her mother was not afraid of death and so they felt comfortable to discuss her death and arrangements afterwards. Her mother even arranged and paid for her funeral before she died.
While her mother was ill Ruth continued to work and describes how this actually provided her with some relief from the situation as focusing on something else relieved her worry. She describes how the care provided by the Macmillan nurses was excellent and suspects their care was much better than any other medical care they could have received. Ruth mostly relied on her family for support and feels that they grieved for her while she was dying, rather than after she died.
Ruth describes how the last two weeks of her mother's life were extremely hard to bear, because she was in a lot of pain and also very frightened. Ruth despaired and asked the nurses to do something, but nothing could be done and because of this experience Ruth fully supports euthanasia. For the last week Ruth's mother was mostly unconscious and when she finally died Ruth felt a great sense of relief as the suffering had ended.


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Photonics, Engineering and more #STEM giants kick-off #MentorshipSessions
For the first time since it was introduced in 2013, the #MentorshipSessions is happening as a separate event from the NSMQ, as part of the newly introduced #STEM Festival by Primetime Ltd.
Over the years, the Mentorship Sessions have had well-seasoned and distinguished individuals working in science and technology-related fields share their experiences with the NSMQ contingent, and give them the guidance they may need to reach their highest potential. These mentors have also helped the students to discover and develop their interests and innermost passions.
After seven Mentorship Sessions, broadcast live on the Joy Learning Channel on TV, and streamed on the NSMQ and STEM Festival Facebook pages, here are our highlights so far.
Jul 15 – Dr. Kofi J. Brobbey, Photonics Ghana
"Look at where you want to be in the next two years and challenge yourself to get the skills you need to get there".
– Dr. Kofi .J. Brobbey, Photonics Ghana
Dr. Brobbey, delivering his talk at the #STEMFest21 Launch to kick off a series of 15 Mentorship Sessions over a 3-week period.
Dr. Kofi J. Brobbey of Photonics Ghana shared his journey with science and how he managed to pursue a career in Photonics, although he had failed in chemistry at the lower levels of his education. Rewatch the full session via Facebook.
Jul 16 – Ohemaa Adjei Andoh, Girls in Science & Technology (GIST)
"How are you selling yourself professionally? If you want to be recognized and progress in any field, make sure you are visible. Let us see the good things you are doing."
– Ohemaa Adjei Andoh, Founder of Girls in Science & Technology (GIST)
The second Mentorship Session featured Ohemaa Adjei Andoh, an engineer and founder of Girls in Science & Technology (GIST), a platform that seeks to mentor young girls to pursue careers in STEM by exposing them to women leaders in STEM to kindle an interest in the field.
Watch the recap of Ohemaa's session on Facebook.
Jul 19 – Dr. Lucy Agyepong & Benedict Amoako, Academic City University College
"If you look around you today, there are so many new jobs that look nothing like the jobs of yester-year…we believe that the future of work lies in three key areas: robotics engineering, artificial intelligence, and biomedical engineering".
– Dr. Lucy Agyepong, Associate Dean, Engineering & Informatics, Academic City University College
Lucy Fiadonu (left), moderator of the Mentorship Sessions with Benedict Amoako (centre) and Dr. Lucy Agyepong (right)
On the third day, the session featured two mentors from Academic City University College; Dr. Lucy Agyepong, the Associate Dean, Engineering & Informatics, and Benedict Amoako, a Final Year Student studying IT. Benedict showcased his love for robotics with a live demonstration of a robot nicknamed "cosmo-bot", while Dr. Agyepong shared her perspective on the future of work, and the importance of STEM in that regard.
Watch the session again via Facebook.
Jul 20 – Dr. Philip Anderson, Roche Pharmaceuticals
"Many of us found a way outside the mainstream medical practice and our traditional medical schools hardly prepared us for that."
– Dr. Philip Anderson, the Country Manager of Roche Pharmaceuticals, speaking on the ways to bridge the gap between schoolwork and real-world industry expectations.
As a medical doctor with an MBA, Dr. Philip Anderson's Mentorship session focused on highlighting alternative career routes in the field of medicine. He challenged the audience to consider developing perspectives and skills outside of their schoolwork.
Rewatch the session via Facebook.
Jul 21 – Setriakor Nyomi, Grey Parrot Interactive Ltd.
"I always believe that my best achievement is my next one, so I will never stop."
– Setriakor Nyomi, Founder, Grey Parrot Interactive Ltd
The Midweek episode of the Mentorship Sessions featured Setriakor Nyomi, the Founder and Lead Designer of Grey Parrot Interactive Ltd. His firm developed the award-winning Oware 3D video game.
Stream the recap of his session on Facebook.
Jul 22 – Dr. Justice Boakye-Appiah, Medical Doctor & Research Vaccinologist
"The most successful people are those who understand human interactions…above every other thing, you must have good people skills."
– Justice Boakye-Appiah, Medical Doctor & Research Vaccinologist
As one of the researchers working on the development of the COVID-19 vaccines, Dr. Justice Boakye-Appiah provided unique insights from his perspective as a medical doctor who branched into research and vaccinology. He recounted his fond memories of his time at PRESEC – Legon, where he served as Head Boy and a member of the NSMQ 2007 team.
Catch his tips for making it in STEM via Facebook.
Jul 23 – Dr. Laud Anthony Basing, CEO, Incas Diagnostics
"Talent abounds in Ghana. What is missing is opportunity"
– Dr. Laud Anthony Basing, CEO, Incas Diagnostics
For his encore Mentorship Session, Dr. Laud Anthony Basing, the CEO of Incas Diagnostics, delved deeper into his work developing test kits and golden nuggets to succeed as a STEM Researcher.
Watch the full session via Facebook.
The Mentorship Sessions are live Monday to Friday at 5 pm on Joy Learning on TV and the NSMQ and STEM Festival Facebook pages.
Tags: #STEMFest2021Mentorship SessionsSTEM
PHOTOS: Opening Ceremony of #SciTech Fair 2021


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2028: A Letter to My 14-year-old Daughter at the Half-way Mark
September 27, 2021 ~ Randy Blazak ~ 1 Comment
Our daughter, Cozette turned seven last month and she's way ahead of where I was in terms of coolness. When I was a new second grader at Highland Christian Academy, I didn't even know the #1 single for that week ("Maggie May"), but I did know the Frito Bandito song. Cozy can riff on some Dua Lipa cuts and has a vast knowledge of classic rock lyrics. (She has a soft spot for Lindsey Buckingham's Fleetwood Mac songs.) Cozy is well-versed, from Coltrane to Storm Large.
It just dawned on me that, at 7, she is halfway to 14, which was a big year for me and my musical coming out, so I thought I should write her a letter now and tuck it away on this blog until 2028.
Dear Cozy,
Happy 14th birthday! Every day with you has been a thrill and it's so exciting to see you ready to rock 9th grade. You have turned into the most joyful, complex, and kind young woman I know. And even though your mom and I have had some influence, who you are comes from some wonderful spark that exists deep inside you. I thought I'd use this moment to tell you a little bit about what I was like when I was 14 and make a birthday promise to you.
I turned 14 fifty years ago in 1978. It was a great year of self-discovery and what I like to think of as my "musical coming out" year. You know what a role music has played in my life, starting with my pre-school raiding of my parents jazz records and endless hours listening to your grandmother playing Scott Joplin rags on the baby grand piano in our living room. But 1978 was different. It was the year your grandparents started letting their oldest son go to concerts without adults!
I already had caught the concert bug the year before. (Ask me someday what it was like to see Kiss in concert in 1977). For some reason, once I turned 14, my folks trusted me enough to let me go to concerts with my friends. And we went to every big show that came through Atlanta, from Blondie (at the Fox Theater) to Black Sabbath (at the Omni). In fact, if you listen to the 1978 live Blue Oyster Cult album, Some Enchanted Evening, (recorded at the Fox Theater) you can hear Charlie, Richie, and I screaming our lungs out.
You know how exciting live music is. Officially, your first concert was U2 in Vancouver, BC on May 15, 2015. For the record, you were 9 months old and The Edge fell off the stage. We've been to countless shows together since then. You know about the anticipation swelling as the main act is about to take the stage. You know about singing along with the actual people on the recording. You know about your ears ringing when it's all over.
When I was 14, the other element at concerts was drugs. A lot of drugs. And everything else. I remember a guy drinking straight Jack Daniels before a Who concert, and telling everyone it was his life's dream to see The Who in concert. By the time The Who took the stage, he was passed out drunk. Missed the entire show. I'm sure he told all his friends how brilliant the concert was. Those concerts were too important for me to miss a thing. I was clear-eyed sober, focused on every element of the experience, every guitar solo, every screaming fan pressed against the stage. And I remember them all 50 years later. Just a suggestion about the value of a clear head. You'll want to remember this stuff.
Concerts were where I found my tribe. Other music fanatics and the various subtribes. By 15, I was firmly in the mod/punk/new wave tribe and going to Ramones shows. But at 14, it was all brand new. I people watched as much as band watched.
So you are at a magical spot right now. Given life expectancies in 2028, you've got another 70+ years of life ahead of you. That means you've got 14 years behind you, much of which you don't remember because you were little, and 70 years ahead of you. The future is wide open. Most of my life is behind me, which is why I bore you with stories of the distant past. But for you there is this incredible newness and potential wrapped up in every experience. I would give anything to hear music that way I did in 1978. For my 14th birthday, I got the debut album of a band called Van Halen and you would have thought the Rapture had unfolded on Earth. That album was like a lightning bolt from God. (Our poor neighbors in Stone Mountain who had to tolerate me playing "You Really Got Me," at full volume over and over again.) I can listen to that record now and it sounds nothing like it did when I was 14. Now, it's just a classic rock classic. Then, it was EVERYTHING.
I know kids always get tired of us old folks saying, "Youth is wasted on the wrong people," or "enjoy your youth." But we're speaking from a place of regret. I wish I would have known about the magic of 14 when I was 14. I just wanted to be 18, or 25, or 30. (Definitely not 64.) I'm begging you to take it all in. Close your eyes and turn the volume up all the way. Take a minute to feel how the sound lands on your body and what it connects you to in this moment in history. For me, it gave me the dream of escape; to the lower east side of Manhattan, to Liverpool, to London, or to wherever Styx wanted me to sail away to.
That's my request. Listen and connect your music to your space and time and maybe your own tribe. My promise is, now that you're 14, you can go to concerts without me. You have a great set of friends and I trust you to be there for the music. I will still drop you off and pick you up (unless I need my driverless car to do it), but you are free to be as fully into the experience of live music as I was at your age. And feel free to pick music that you think I will hate, because that's also what 14 is about. (Bringing home the Sex Pistols album at 14 almost got me booted from the Blazak family.) You will find your people at shows. And you'll find fashions. And you'll find great opening bands that you will end up loving more than the headliners.
Fourteen is go time. It's new car smell. It's endless discoveries. It's an entire human history of possibilities. And it's music that will mean EVERYTHING. Go get it. I'll be there to give you a ride home.
Generation Z will turn this gunship around.
February 23, 2018 February 24, 2018 ~ Randy Blazak ~ 7 Comments
A week ago I was ready to gather my family and get the hell out of this gun-crazed country. What a difference a week makes. Teenagers across the country walking out of their schools, demanding adults finally make the changes to insure their safety. Students in the Florida state house as lawmakers refuse to ban assault weapons. Kids begging President Trump to "do anything" as he held a crib sheet reminding him to act empathetic. Children throwing their bodies on the wheel and the ground in front of the White House. High school juniors going toe to toe with Senator Marco Rubio about his NRA allegiance, fearless in their contempt. It's enough to make an old geezer like me think there might be some light at the end of the long dark tunnel.
A week ago it felt like America was destined for a pointless mass shooting each week as another gun-male took his pathetic anger out on more innocent civilians. Then a girl named Emma Gonzalez channeled the rage of a nation held too long under the terroristic threat of the National Rifle Association. She didn't blink and she didn't bow. It was the tipping point. This student of Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School who survived the worst this country has to offer stiffened her spine and single-handedly opened the floodgates of frustration and fury and put the NRA on the back foot.
Let's just get this out there before this becomes about the "gun debate." The NRA doesn't care about the Second Amendment. I doubt most of its members even really know what the Second Amendment says. The NRA cares about guns sales. They are a lobbying organization for gun manufactures who depend on utilizing any tactic to ramp up weapon purchases. "Obama is gonna take away your guns!" "Hillary wants to repeal your right to carry a weapon!" "The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a lots and lots of good guys with guns!" "Buy a gun for everyone in your family! Buy three!"
The perfect example of this push to sell more guns to a freaked-out America is this moronic call to arm the teachers. This "solution" is even coming from our idiot-in-cheif in Washington. Besides the fact that the NRA spent over $31 million to get the "billionaire" elected, I would bet half of that in cash that Trump has never even fired a gun. I'm a teacher and I've actually fired a gun. Lots of them. In fact, I had training with the FBI on some the weapons that are being debated right now. I feel completely comfortable firing a Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun but not inside the hallways of a campus full of screaming students.
What these NRA kooks ignore is that the majority of these mass shooter gun-males are on a suicidal mission to "go out on their feet in a blaze of glory." As long as they take out a few kids before Professor Rambo shows up, they've achieved their goal. The thought of a well-armed faculty is not a deterrent, it's an incitement.
That's why the voices of Emma Gonzales, David Hogg, Cameron Kasky, Delaney Tar, and all the other Lakeland, Florida students are so powerful. They don't have time for the latest round of pointless bullshit from our "leaders." Their lives are literally on the line. The march they organized (within one week of the slaughter of their classmates) on March 24 is being called the "March for Our Lives" and it will be the first real expression of the collective will of the post-millennial generation, Generation Z, and it's going to be a game changer.
This fall, the babies born in Y2K will be heading off to college. Those 18 and younger, make up the most diverse and plugged-in generation ever. Most of them can't vote yet, but don't think that will quell their political voice. Look at how they've turned the tide in one week. The NRA is now public enemy number one (no matter how loudly Wayne LaPierre screams about "SOCIALISM!"). I pity any politician that has taken NRA blood money. Sen. Dean Heller (R-Nev.) took $122,802 from the NRA and should be shamed from office in November. Let their gun money hang like an albatross around their necks.
We social movement scholars put a lot of weight on 1968 as a watershed year. Yeah, the student uprisings and unrest facilitated the election of Richard Nixon and six more years of the Vietnam War. But it also gave us the 26th Amendment, insuring that 18, 19, and 20 year-olds would forever have meaningful political power. 2018 could be Generation Z's 1968, hopefully without all the assassinations. This is my daughter's generation and, if she is any barometer, their energy will drive these old men into submission.
From #metoo to #neveragain, #thetimestheyareachangin. Get ready you old people, the kids are not alright and they are not going to wait for you to get your shit together. Your old road is rapidly aging. I'm ready to lend a hand. What about you? What side of history do you want to be on? These children can't do any worse than we have.
Jukebox Hero 1: Queens of Noise
April 13, 2017 April 13, 2017 ~ Randy Blazak ~ 10 Comments
In 2011, I started working on a memoir about some of my crazy stories with rock musicians and the songs that saved me, called Jukebox Hero. I was deep in the drama and writing was an outlet, so I wrote about my relationship with Bono and how I ended up on an Eminem song, and a bunch of other crazy tales. I thought this blog might be a good place to publish some of the chapters. The first one is about being a punk fan in rural Georgia and discovering The Runaways. I've already written about this revolutionary band and am now proud to include bassist Jackie Fox in my circle of social media friends. Since memoirs are all the rage (I'm reading Hillbilly Elegy right now), here's where mine starts. (I should note that I wrote this piece before the disturbing allegations surfaced about the rape culture surrounding the young band,)
Chapter 1: The Runaways – Queens of Noise
Soundtrack song: "Neon Angels on the Road To Ruin"
Being a young rock fan in a rural southern town, like Stone Mountain, Georgia, in the 1970s pretty much sucked. The drinking age was 18, but that might as well have been 30 when you were 13. Besides, there were no rock clubs, let alone all-ages ones. There was no satellite radio, no iTunes, no MTV, nothing. If it weren't for 96 Rock on the FM dial and some older kid's copy of Circus magazine, you might as well have been living behind the Iron Curtain. You were stuck on Hee Haw Island with a bunch of rednecks who thought radical fashion was clogging with tap shoes on. You know the movie Deliverance? These people were not cheering for Ned Beatty. They were cheering for the other guys.
Stone Mountain was about 10 miles away from Atlanta, but it felt like a thousand miles from the exciting metropolis, whose motto was and is, "The city too busy to hate." We had moved into one of the new subdivisions in 1972, when I was 8. Housing developments, like Woodridge, were popping up all over the whispering pine forests outside Atlanta. Each one would have about four or five styles of homes that would just repeat. Along with them came strip malls anchored with Eckerd's drug stores and Big Star grocers. There was no suburban planning that envisioned places for young people to go or venues for musicians to play in. My house on Birch Ridge Trail was only near other houses exactly like it. The only good news was that they hadn't invented video games yet, so we ran wild in the streets, the woods, and the half-built houses.
There were also really no ethnic or youth subcultures of any sort, other than the jocks and freaks of Redan High School. It was a time when if you didn't listen to Ted Nugent or Waylon Jennings, you were branded a "pussy." I remember in 1978 wearing a T-shirt by a new Australian band I had been getting into. I learned about them in Creem magazine. I was coming out of Spanish class and some longhaired redneck cornered me in the hall and said, "AC/DC, what is that? Are you some kind of a fag?" In those days, "AC/DC " was slang for "going either way." David Bowie was AC/DC. It's not slang anymore. A year later I saw that same asshole in an AC/DC shirt. "OK, Blazak, you were right on that one." Actually, I think he called me "Gayzak."
There was plenty of rock to find if you were willing to look. I got into The Who and the old mod bands I read about in rock history books and dreamed of Vespa scooters. The Beatles were my fantasy band. I was a sergeant in the Kiss Army. You couldn't really see any of this music, up close at least. I went to my first concert when I was 9-years-old. My parents had the wisdom to take me to see Elvis Presley at the Omni Coliseum. I was hooked. My first real rock concert was when I was 12; Queen with Thin Lizzy opening. 1976. Brilliant. For my 13th birthday in 1977, my mom took me and some friends to see Kiss. It was the Love Gun tour and my head exploded. I pretty much went to every single concert after that.
But at those shows, you were always a million miles from the stage. And this is long before Jumbotrons. Now you can go to a big concert and watch it on TV for only 150 bucks. In 1977, you paid $10 for a ticket and watched in through a cloud of pot smoke and firecrackers. Around that year, I began reading about this thing in Creem called "punk rock." There was an article about a club called CBGBs in New York. The band on the low stage was called The Ramones and the guitarist's Converse sneakers were hanging over the edge of the stage. People in the crowd were touching him. I didn't know what it sounded like, but this was what I wanted, an end to the barrier between the musician and the fan.
There was really no way to find this music in Podunk Town in 1977. The radio was blasting big anthems for big arenas. Boston, Yes, ELO. And disco was creeping in, threatening to destroy every electric guitar in sight. I didn't know that there were hipster record stores in Atlanta, like Wax N Facts and Wuxtry, that my mom or dad might've taken me to. I just knew that there were bands with names like The Dead Boys, The Jam, and The Sex Pistols that were playing music that I needed to hear. Some of it slipped through on Dr. Demento's comedy radio show (I can still remember his playing of the Tuff Dart's "Your Love is Like Nuclear Waste"). Some of it popped up on TV shows like Rock Concert and Midnight Special, where you might catch Mink Deville or Blondie. Hugh Hefner's girlfriend, Barbie Benton, had a show called Sugar Time! That had an episode called "Punk Rock." Her singing group, Sugar, decided to "go punk" and dress in trash bags but didn't like people throwing trash at them (which is what punks did, according to the network).
A local UHF show called The Entertainment Page (live five days a week!) was a lifeline from Atlanta. They interviewed local and touring bands and showed videos long before there was an MTV. Groups like The Motors and Generation X blasted out of the TV in the family room. What I could hear was exhilarating! The guitars were loud, jagged and up front. The vocals were snotty. The songs were short and desperate. No endless guitar solos. In 1977, with some fellow eighth graders, I went to see Led Zeppelin at the Omni and fell sleep during "Moby Dick." Boring.
Suddenly, salvation fell out of a magazine. I was reading Rolling Stone and an insert ad fell out on to the floor. The deal was this; you taped a penny to the card, mailed it in, and you could get twelve albums! There was something about buying a certain number of records over the next few years. Who cares? The albums listed in the ad were OK, some I already had. I needed to find another member of the Columbia House Record Club and get access to the database (again, music websites were almost twenty years off). My friend David Coston (and fellow Kiss Army member) had some of the monthly catalogs. I was ready to find 12 punk rock albums. Unfortunately, there were no punk rock albums. No Television. No Sex Pistols. But "punk" in those days was much broader. It included Patti Smith, Blondie, and The Talking Heads, all of whom would make it to the record clubs.
So I used my 12 spots to fill out my record collection. A few Kiss albums, A Rock N Roll Alternative by the Atlanta Rhythm Section, Cat Scratch Fever by Ted Nugent (I didn't want to my ass kicked). I had 11 and needed one more. There was an album called Queens of Noise by The Runaways. I had read about them in Creem or Hit Parader. They were all girls but they looked serious. It seemed pretty punk to me so I put the catalog number (271338) in box #12. All the music I had listened to had been boy bands who liked to wack off on endless solos. Maybe an all girl-band would be my ultimate punk weapon against Nugent bully masculinity.
When the twelve albums arrived, I quickly forgot about the other eleven. The snarling teen chicks from the Sunset Strip were my ticket into the subterranean world of underground rock. Loud, fast, rules. The booming bass of "Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin" drove my neighbors in the Woodridge subdivision to drink (or crank up their Waylon Jennings). I stared at the picture of Joan Jett, Jackie Fox, Cherie Currie, Lita Ford, and Sandy West, on the cover of Queens of Noise, and dreamt of escaping with them into the backstreets of Hollywood. I would never again feel the need to listen to what everyone else was listening to. I was on my own.
I continued to follow The Runaways as my identity as the lone punk fan at Redan High School evolved. David lent me his import copy of The Runaways Live in Japan and I leant him Waitin' for the Night. Soon I got my hands on those Ramones records. I talked to Debbie Harry and Chris Stein of Blondie on The Entertainment Page and they gave me tickets to the Parallel Lines show at the Fox Theater (with Rockpile opening). I started dressing more "new wave" (which caused endless taunts). I would sneak a safety pin on to my Blue Oyster Cult concert shirt; peg my flaired Levi's from The Gap with mom's sewing kit. I found import singles at record stores by bands with funny haircuts. I told people I went to the Sex Pistols show in Atlanta, but you had to be 18 to get in and I was only 14. I did see The Runaways with The Ramones that year and lots of people (including myself) trying to be "punk." I was sad when singer Cherie Currie left the band and then The Runaways split up. But when Joan Jett's first solo album came out in 1980, all was forgiven.
By 1980, I had become a bit like Mike Damone in Fast Times At Ridgemont High. I wasn't making out with girls to side one of Led Zeppelin IV (or any other music). But I was the guy with the great concert tickets. For whatever reason, my parents seemed perfectly OK with letting their teenage son camp out just about anywhere for concert tickets. In 1979, I dragged a sleeping bag and a lawn chair outside a Rich's department store in the blackest part of Dekalb County (to insure a smaller line because all the white kids were at Lenox Mall) for the Kiss Dynasty tour (2nd row). In 1980, I camped out downtown in the freezing winter for Springsteen's The River tour (20th row). That summer, I was back downtown camping out for Who tickets, for three days (8th row). Good seats meant I could usually find a date. I had front row center for AC/DC's historic Back In Black concert at the Fox Theater and took the first girl who said she wanted to go.
Joan Jett's Bad Reputation was one of the first cross-over records from the underground. The Talking Heads and Blondie were on mainstream radio but they did it by sounding more commercial (even, gasp, disco). But Joan did it by sounding more like Suzi Quatro. Bad Reputation rocked hard. Even better, the girls who ignored me (unless I had front row tickets to see The Kinks) dug the female voice blasting out of the speakers in my 1973 Gran Torino. It was actually cooler to listen to Joan Jett than Christoper Cross! 16 was going to be my year. When I landed the job at Turtles Records on Memorial Drive, the geeky kid who liked "fag rock" suddenly was on the inside. I would be selling tickets to concerts I used to camp out for. I could sell cool music to the indbred, Nugent-loving rednecks to blast out of their Trans Ams. And I sold a shit-load of Joan Jett.
One of best parts of record stores in those days was the in-store appearance. Artists promoting their latest release would hang out in record stores and sign autographs. There's a great scene in the film FM of a young Tom Petty doing an in-store at the Tower Records on Sunset. I skipped school in 1980 with a few other new wavers to meet the B-52s at an in-store at Oz Records in Stone Mountain. Before that I stood line for an hour to meet the Ramones at an in-store at Peaches. Turtles had plenty of in-stores. I got to organize appearances by Missing Persons and Iron Maiden. When Joan Jett released I Love Rock N Roll in 1981 I prayed we'd get the in-store.
I Love Rock N Roll became a smash hit pretty quickly. It had the same Gary Glitter-turned up to 11 sound as Bad Reputation, but by 1981, rock radio was tired of Nugent and Styx and all that wanking. The kids just wanted to rock. So they began to play more of the gritty new sounds from "independent" artists. Joan had been turned down by 23 record labels for the Bad Reputation album and just decided to create her own record label, Blackheart Records. By 1982, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts were all over the airwaves and featured regularly on the new craze, MTV. I got to do a lot of the "I knew her when," thing. Like tales of when I saw Joan with The Runaways play with The Ramones in a wrestling hall in 1978.
My store didn't get the in-store. Instead it went to the Turtles #12 at Northlake Mall. But I was there with an armful of Runaways albums to prove that I knew her before MTV. I wore my green satin Turtles jacket and yellow Turtles T-shirt. I didn't want to be confused with the screaming fans that hadn't heard of Joan before 1981. I was an insider. An industry person. An 18-year-old fanatic. I tried to be super-cool with her but in the photo of our encounter you can see a big streak of Clearasil on my jaw that I forgot to wipe off. So I wasn't that cool, but Joan seemed impressed that I was a big Runaways fan in Podunk. And she had the coolest leather jacket.
My fandom of Joan hardly waned over the years. I was excited to see her on the bill with The Who later in 1982. There was no stop in Atlanta so a fellow dorm-mate from Oxford College named Chris Jones and I drove down to Orlando to see the November 27th massive concert at the Tangerine Bowl. The Blackhearts were on the bill between The B-52s and The Who. When the Florida rednecks saw me in my mod gear (similar to what The Who themselves wore in 1965), I got shit like "Faggot!" and "You must be here to see the B-52s, you faggot." But nobody asked me if I was AC/DC. Chris and I got as close to the stage as possible. It was an open field even though 11 fans had been crushed to death at an open-seating Who concert in 1979. It didn't matter, I had to be as close to the action as I could.
When Georgia's B-52s (who recorded "Rock Lobster" at Stone Mountain Studios!) hit the stage, the few hip kids cheered but the Florida rednecks were having none of it. The booed and shouted homophobic slurs, but that Athens party band partied on. Then some geniuses began taking their shoes off and hurling them at the group, ignorant to the fact that their beloved Who were viewed with the same curiosity less than twenty years earlier. Shoes began raining down on the new wave combo and the B-52's began to look nervous, like they were going to be devoured by an angry mob of backwater zombies. Then this biker momma to the left of me reached into her purse and pulled out a rather large dildo and flung it towards the stage. It hit keyboardist Kate Pierson straight in the face. The rednecks howled in approval and the B-52s walked off the stage.
When Joan Jett and the Blackhearts took the stage, the hillbillies started up again. They paid full-price for their tickets and didn't want to see any "faggy" bands. They wanted The Who. When the first pair of sneakers hit the stage, Joan stopped mid-song, gave an intense glare, and shouted out, "Fuck you, asshole!" Then she walked back and turned up her guitar amp. The band launched into "I Love Rock n' Roll" and the crowd went nuts. She tamed the savage redneck with a black eye-liner stare and power chord.
I saw Joan again in 1995 after I moved to Portland. After the brutal 1993 Seattle murder of Mia Zapata of The Gits (seriously, one of the most balls out rock bands unknown to the masses), Joan jumped into the effort to find the killer. She formed a band with the surviving Gits called Evil Stig (Gits Live backwards) and did an album and tour to help fund the investigation. When they played at LaLuna, Joan was bald and as mean as ever. Evil Stig played the best of The Gits and The Blackhearts, including "Crimson and Clover." I've always been impressed with Joan commitment to supporting the issues of women and sexual minorities through kick ass rock. Her 1993 song, "Activity Grrrl," about the Riot Grrrl scene is required listening in my Youth Subcultures class. She's a true hero and I have her autograph.
The other members of the Runaways have had a more challenging time. Lita Ford was on top for a while in the MTV days, thanks to Sharon Osborne. Her hair was massive, and, for a brief moment in rock history, she beat the headbangers at their own game. Jackie Fox went to Harvard and got her law degree. I was in L.A. in the late 1980s with Drivin' N' Cryin', the band I managed, and we caught Redd Kross doing a show at the Ford Amphitheater and they brought Cherie Currie out on stage. She had appeared on their crazy Tater Totz album (a vanity project rooted in Yoko Ono absurdism). They brought the house down with The Runaways' "Cherie Bomb."
In 1998, I was in LA for a sociology conference or something, and staying with my friend Jim Barber. He became Drivin' N' Cryin's manager after I was fired, and later he was Courtney Love's boyfriend (which means he's in this book). I noticed in the LA Weekly that the Runaways' drummer, Sandy West, was playing at The Coconut Teaszer on Sunset and had to go. I was with Christina, my first wife, who was about to learn about my Runaways obsession. The show in the tiny club was great. Sandy wasn't the teenager I saw 20-years earlier in the wrestling hall, but she rocked full on, banging the drums like a construction worker (which she was at that point). And the night took off when her old vocalist, Cherie Currie, joined the band for a run through of some Runaways classics. I was back in my bedroom in Stone Mountain, staring at the cover of Queens of Noise. Amazing.
After the show, the members of the band, including Sandy and Cherie, hung out on the patio in the warm West Hollywood night. I talked to Sandy about how much I enjoyed the show and how great her drumming was. Then I told her the story about how Queens of Noise was the random 12th pick for the Columbia House Record Club in 1977 and it changed my life. Sandy loved the story so much she dragged me over to Cherie and made me repeat the whole tale. I added that it was that record that gave me the confidence to stop listening to Ted Nugent and start finding other underground music.
I'm so glad I had that moment because Sandy was diagnosed with cancer in 2005 and died the following year. And now, thanks to the Dakota Fanning/Kristen Stewart film, everyone knows about The Runaways.
I attended the Portland premiere of The Runways on April 5, 2010. It was a benefit for one of my favorite Portland organizations, The Rock N Roll Camp For Girls. (My 40th birthday party was a fundraiser for the camp.) Sandy West's sister was there and so was Cherie Curie. During the Q&A, I mentioned that I saw The Runaways with The Ramones in 1978 and it was a big punk rock event. I asked Cherie if she thought they were a part of the punk rock phenomenon and she just made a face. "I didn't know what punk rock was until we went to London and saw all these people with pierced faces and spitting on each other. It was disgusting! No, we were just a pure rock and roll band. We just wanted to rock."
As she made her way out of the Hollywood Theater, I cornered her with my Queens of Noise album, the one I got from the record club in 1977 that Joan Jett signed in 1982. I tried to tell her about meeting her with Sandy in Hollywood in 1998, but the other fans began to move in. I was happy to get her to add her signature and pose for a picture. Even if it meant missing out on free tickets to see Joan Jett and the Blackhearts because I missed my raffle ticket being called. The fact that the film brought a whole bunch of kids the music of The Runaways is good enough.
2011 Postscript: After the 2010 meeting, Cherie Currie accepted my friend request on Facebook. I love that your childhood heroes can now share your random thoughts and vica versa. However, Cherie's random thoughts tended toward ragging on President Obama and generally trying to be the female Ted Nugent. I found it strange that the woman who still brags about having sex with Joan Jett would turn out to be a right-wing asshole.
In June, Cherie reposted a YouTube video I had linked to my page of nutjob Arizona governor Jan Brewer claiming that illegal immigrants were coming to America just to have babies (Brewer later claimed that they were all drug mules and beheading people). Cherie's comment on my video read:
It amazes me that a woman doing her job and protecting her citizens give her the title a right-wing bigot. I give her the title of 'Stronger and more American then the man we made President'.
When I tried to engage her and her teabag army in some civilized debate about the Arizona immigration law, she defreinded and blocked me. Sometimes it stings to find out your rock idols are true douchebags.
2017 Postscript: I put on Queens of Noise when I posted this. (I streamed it on Spotify because my autographed vinyl copy is framed.) Christ, it sounds as good did 40 years ago. "Born to Bad" is a monster anthem, Jackie's zooming bass on "Neon Angels," and Lita Ford shredding on "Johnny Guitar," lordy. Why isn't this album in there with the rest of classic albums? Oh, yeah, chicks. Now excuse me while I play some air bass in my kitchen. 1977 = 2017 FTW!
The Millennial Effect: Here comes Generation Z
As a sociologist of youth culture, I spend a lot of time trying to explain what makes generations unique. The easy answer is – nothing. Broad generalizations are meaningless and teens in 2016 probably face many of the same issues that teens did in 2016 BC. Some things are eternal, like when do you get the keys to the hybrid or chariot?
But there is a social science of generations, looking at a cohorts born in a similar time and place. The parameters are usually based on changes in birthrates. The Baby Boom Generation begins about 9 months after the end of World War 2. In 1946, with the world safe for democracy, the birth rate in the US exploded and finally began to drop in the early 1960s. Nearly a third of the U.S. population are Baby Boomers and it's pretty much explained nearly every cultural trend since. The sixties were the "Sixties" because you had so many college-age kids. (Bad time to throw a war.) And now all those boomers are retiring and there's a Viagra commercial on TV every 60 seconds.
Then came Generation X, the relatively small generation that I'm part of the first wave. The birthrate bottomed out in 1974, so a lot of of the 1980s "kids in America" had to live in the shadow of the massive Boom. Next came Generation Y, or the "Millennials," that ended the century. The birthrate jumped up in 1981 as boomers (finally) started settling down, AIDS killed "free love" and they invented the SUV (with a "Baby On Board" window sign).
This 1981-2001 "echo wave" ended up being even bigger than the baby boom generation. They were not only the brats of Boomers who had finally found their way out of the disco. The population of first generation immigrants also got considerably younger. The Millennials became the most diverse generation in American history. They represent the browning of America. Over 35% were born outside of the country, another 26% are first or second generation immigrants and 38% are bilingual. This is my wife's, story. She is the new face of America.
These three generations, Baby Boom, Generation X, and Millennial, have some real markers. Baby Boomers watched Star Trek on Friday nights on NBC. Gen Xers watched the reruns after school as latchkey kids (and Star Trek: The Next Generation). And Millennials stream old episodes on Hulu between J.J. Abrams reboots. They are marked by different historical moments; the assassination of the Kennedys, the Challenger explosion, and 9/11. Boomers bought Beatles albums, Gen Xers bought U2 CDs, and Millennials may never have bought music on a physical format, preferring to download it instead. Baby Boomers got sent off to Vietnam, Gen Xers mostly avoided war and many Millennials volunteered for duty in Iraq and Afghanistan.
In reality, there is an incredible variation within generations (including Millennials who buy Beatles albums – on vinyl). Usually when the term "generation" gets used it's primarily referring to the experiences of middle class white males and what they do with their disposable income. The Great Recession of 2008 and the ethnic demographic shift makes the experience of the Millennials even less homogenous, but the one thing that makes them unique is their reliance on social media technology. Where Boomers hung out at the malt shop, the love-in, and the disco, and Gen Xers hung out at the all-ages punk club, the mall, and the rave, Millennials just hang out on line. The skate park gang is now a multiple-player online Tony Hawk game. The youth are no longer wild in the streets (unless there is a Bernie Sanders rally in town).
But these generations shape culture and not just hairstyles and popular dances. The Baby Boom gave us the second wave feminist movement. Gen X birthed Alex P. Keaton conservatism and Madonna sex-positivism and the Millennials gave us social networking. The great contribution of the Millennial generation is the recognition that you are not your job. They've seen their parents, painfully loyal to companies and careers, stabbed in the back, downsized and outsourced. Work is now something to provide you an income while you follow your bliss. Why commit to a profession that is just going to be replaced by a computer or Chinese child labor? As a Gen X'er who recently experienced this betrayal first-hand, this way of living sounds pretty good.
The oldest Millennials are 35 and the youngest are 15. The 9/11 attacks in 2001 also marked another shift in the birthrates. So here comes Generation Z, those born after 2001. This includes my daughter, born in 2014. The first Generation Zs turn 18 in 2019. What will their world be like?
It's exciting to imagine what the 2020s will look like for them. We know there will be more non-white people in the U.S. and a declining pool of old white guys who want to make America "great" again. Z'ers will probably be even more immersed in technology (unless President Trump causes a global economic collapse and we have to revive the Pony Express). Between rising sea-levels and China repossessing the United States treasury, they will have plenty of issues to bring them together. We can hope that by then that whatever wave of feminism that's happening is just tweaking the finer details of gender equality and expression. In 2026, Cozy will be 12 and I can imagine her doing a report for a 7th grade class about how her father used to have to explain what feminism was and why it was ever needed.
The Who played here in Portland last night and when they played their anthem, "My Generation," I have to think 72-year-old Roger Daltrey grimaced a bit when he sang, "I hope I die before I get old." But whatever your generation is, you're going to have to stick around that long to figure what it all meant.


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