Thank you....

With little fanfare, Rick and I would like to say 'thanks' for stopping by Moonpie. We have now exceeded 25,000 visits to our lame blog. Not bad for a couple of old, weird dudes with a sense of humor and a couple of spare hours a week to share this nonsense with you guys.

I want to say thanks to Rick, Martin and Jones for being the catalyst and a starting point for this to begin back in 1975 and then to the Web several years ago.

Jobs we've had...

Our friend, Jim Jones, joined the navy after viewing this advertisment.

Jobs we have today

You know, not a day goes by (Hell, sometimes not an hour) when someone doesn't come up to me on the street (by which I mean either interstate 25 or 40) and try to ask me what Jim Jones is up to these days. Now, I'm no speed demon, but I am doing the posted 65pmh on our highways here, so I really don't have much of an opportunity to answer these people. And quite frankly, I'm sick and tired of cleaning their teeth off of my sideview mirror. So people, for the love of God, stop it. Ditto for you hordes of monkeys that gather in my backyard late at night waving torches and little tiny marzipan Amanita Muscaria mushrooms. At least I think it's marzipan. I'm not quite sure how monkeys would get marzipan Amanita Muscaria-shaped mushrooms. I mean I know where they would get it. They have it all the time over at Cost Plus World Market, along with the lucky "pig shitting a gold coin"-shaped marzipan. I just don't know how the monkeys are getting them. They probably all have Cost Plus World Market credit cards, but how do they get there? In cars? I don't think so, pal. A monkey's feet can't reach the freakin' pedals!

So, anyway, Jones is still running around Albuquerque. Most lately he's been doing his famous renditions of Elvis tunes in the aisles of the Walmart on Carlisle.
So next time you are shopping there, don't be surprised if this guy pops up behind you in the dressing rooms crooning "Hunka-Hunka Burnin' Love" into an Amanita Muscaria-shaped marizipan microphone.

Don't be surprised. Just run like hell.

Dazzel 'em with bullshit...

There comes a time in every ones life when they realize that they missed their calling. People tend to flounder around searching for some meaning to life. This search will take them to many strange places and introduce them to strange characters. But not our boys! They knew exactly what they wanted and they reached for the stars with the forming of their band "The Furious MacDads." They played to packed garages all over the Heights in Albuquerque and loved the chicks. The band ended up splitting over creative differences, Martin demanded the "pink" stacks because they would match his "guy liner" but Jones would not give them up. The band lasted 12 weeks.

Jobs we had....

During the summer months when school was out, Rick, Jim Jones and I worked as a motorcycle stunt team in Los Alamos, New Mexico. Oppenheimer and the other scientist would need some relief after doing 'some kind' of research. We would load up our Harley 45's in the truck and go up for the weekend and do seven shows a weekend. Rick was the driver in this picture and I would balance atop Ricks head and Jones shoulders. After the shows we would drink into the early morning hours and then start all over again. Hey, the pay was great. We could each make like $40.00 for the seven shows. After several months Rick bought a ranch in Taos and I bought a cabin in Red River. Jones bought more beer and a Boston terrier.

Moonpie One: Pages 23 and 24 - Part two

Here is the back of the postcard seen in the previous post. It is dated Oct 29, 1977 and bears my parents return address "11932 Morrow Ave. NE Albuquerque, NM 87112." It is addressed to Vance at "Lorretto Heights College 3001 S. Federal Bldg., Denver, Colo. 80236." (I have to say that I was agonizingly jealous of Vance for getting to go to art school. Bastard.

I believe that this must have been sent while I was on leave, just prior to going overseas to Germany. I forgot that Vance was not around. I think I must have been hanging out with Blane during that time.

Below the address is a little doodle featuring a ghost chasing a man. I had recently discovered Rapidograph pens and was enamored with their ability to draw small fine lines. I was not so enamored by their ability to dry up. Years later, when I actually went o art school myself, I was quite compulsive about keeping them clean.

Here's a closeup of another drawing -- fairly representative of my "underground comix" style at that period.

Some of the other marginalia includes the following notes:
1.) "Blane screwed Pixie.(no shit.)" I beleive Pixie was a girl I referred to earlier that was Vance's "girlfriend" for a brief period in mid-spring 1976. Worse, I think Pixie was her real name.
2.) "Jones's Mammy Called Me Yesterday." I think she was calling me and asking me to write Jim who was in the Navy by that time. I'm not sure how long after I went in the Army that Jim went in the Navy. It was after the night he got caught stealing his mom's car. Jones was driving around with Blane(?) and two girls. His dad tracked them down and pulled Jim through the window of the car.
3.)"Yow I saw Darth "Star Wars" Vader at Montgomery Plaza.I have no idea what this was about except that this was 6 months after the release of the original film. The first time I saw this, I thought it was the greatest fucking film ever. The second time I saw it I fell asleep about 20 minutes into it.

And now, to the letter, which I haven't even read yet -- not since I sent it to Vance 32 years ago! Wow! Jeeze!

"Ha Fool!
Whut Foolishness. Well, I haven't been doing much lately 'cept for (get this) driving around with Blane [and] getting wasted. I got a pipe bowl at the Conniseur called a six shooter. It has six one hit bowls on it. Pretty neat. also I got a new cowboy hat. I really look like a stomp now. It cost 42 bucks. and check out this. I got a 6 pen Rapidograph set. 32 bucks* It's pretty good. Not good for writing this fast though. It has sizes "00" to "4". I've really been getting sown on some cosmic foolishness now. Tonight we're going to see a play at the Little Theater. Then tommorow I guess I'll go see the Jug band again. are you (can you) coming down the weekend of the 5th -n- 6th? I'm pretty low on cash or else I'd come up there. Oh well if you do let me know so I don't go anywhere. Later Sarge,
Detective Tom Faxon. Memphis (P.D.)

*This'll get Betty to notice me."

At the end is this, a doodle. The Sarge reference came from a Monty Python sketch (which is on a CD sitting her on my desk to mail to Vance. JESUS!) which featured two British soldiers in the trenches in WWI.
MAJOR: Home on leave in three days, eh Sarge?"
Sarge: Oh, YES suh!"

So, that was that. It was more exciting and coherant than many of my letters. I wrote most of them under the influence. The one's on speed tended to be very long and disjointed. I may have actually been sober for this one. I have no idea what the Little Theater reference was about -- who I went with or what I saw. I guess the real big news -- it's in the second sentence! -- was the fact that I was hanging out with Blane. There had been no love lost between him and I for most of the time we'd known each other.When I came home on that leave, for some reason we hooked up and hung out. I had a wad of cash and the ability to buy beer on base and Blane had his black Chevy Luv. Blane and I did a lot of partying.

OH! This memory just came back to me. Eve, (wife of Ben, the owner of the previously mentioned Mini-Cooper) had a daughter who was about 14. The Jacqueline used to take us all to see the Watermelon Mountain Jug Band at Pepino's Pizza (Later the DWI School and now, O'Neill's) at Central and Washington. Back then, a minor could drink if they were with a parent. Jacqueline was good about adopting us. Anyway, one night during this leave, me and Blane went with (Vance -- who were those two kids who lived next to you on Tracy? The brother was a bit retarded? Glen!) and Eve and her daughter were there. So, the drunker I got, the more I danced with Eve's daughter, Cathy. We were at the table making out, and Eve was laughing at me. "What's so funny?" I asked. Eve smirked. "She's only 14." Me and the Cathy went out to Blane's truck and made out some more. She passed out and, I seem to recall, threw up. A few days later, she went out cruising with me and Blane. We had a case of Olympia in the bed of the truck. We were getting high, and decided to go to the McDonalds on Comanche. OK. So, you could drink with a parent but the cops ran checkpoints at all the McDonalds. Anyway, we got stopped at the checkpoint. Blane gets out of the truck and is falling all over himself trying to kiss this cop's ass. The cop shines his flashlight on the case of beer -- which was missing a few. He shines his light in the cab at me. At the bong that was sticking up between my feet. At Cathy, this girl who was obviously waaayyyy underage. He turns to Blane and says, "Why don't you guys just go find someplace else to party." Blane was bowing and scraping "Oh yes sir, thank you sir, we will sir." We drove away and I was pissed because I had the munchies. For the record, I never had sex with Cathy who was not called "Jailbait" for nothin'.

As I mentioned, I don't think I saw Vance again before I left for Germany. The next time we were to meet was not a good time. I came back from Germany fat, drunk, and stupid.** That and I had a couple thousand bucks in separation pay -- a little over 7 grand in 2009 dollars. I was too rich and too stoned to look for a job. And my mom had an unused Darvon prescription. That's all part of "Moonpie Two," though. There's still a few adventures to talk about in One.

**No way to go through life, according to Dean Wormer.

Be cool, man. Just. Be. Cool.

I got a laugh out of this when I ran across it today. It reminded me of cruising around in a car full of stoned teenagers.

I remember, back in the day when my Karma was still a bit better than it got, one night of driving around smoking dope. Now, we invariably had one of those situations where a cop was behind us and we all peed our pants.

On this particular night, Jones and I were in the back seat of -- I think -- Alan Schactner's Mustang. At that time (just prior to the Deniston's induction into the group,) Jones and I were the only ones who smoked dope. We had gotten down to the roach and.... I guess I should go back a bit and explain something else. See, back in those days, you could buy a "five finger" bag of pot for $10. (AKA, a "lid" or a "dime bag.")Calculating for inflation, that is about $40 in 2009 dollars. Not a bad deal for some dope that, rather than fucking you up, got you off. This was pot that would have you laughing and happy. The point was that for that money, you could afford to throw away the roach. We generally didn't, because we had cool roach clips to use, but we could.

On this evening, we were all high, Jones and I from smoking the joint, and Martin and Alan, from being in the car with the smoke. We were driving along Juan Tabo near Montgomery. I tossed the roach out the window and it landed... right on the windshield of a cop car. The cop pulled up along side us and rode even for about two blocks. He never looked at us. I don't know if he just didn't see us or what. I about peed my pants.

The thing is, when you are that stoned and looking at impending arrest, there is no way in hell you can act natural.

To this day, I about pee my pants when a cop is behind me. It doesn't matter how legal I am acting. I drive along imagining all the things I might possible be pulled over for.

I forgot where I was going with this. Look! A chicken!

Jobs We've Had, #37 in a series.

Martin and Jonesy joined Vance and I for one early album. We were trying to cash in on the whole Funk scene. Jones sang a funk version of "Splish Splash! I was Takin' a Bath," effectively sending us directly to the remaindered bin at Woolworth's.

I'd totally forgotten this album until I was surfing through the LP COver Lover website. I've actually been going through this site for the past several hours and, it is totally cool/hilarious. From cool jazz and hot bossa-nova acts to kids records and Giant Beehive Christian groups, it's got them all. It's blog-style and you can vote -- and even add your own cover art.

Jonesy Miranda

She had a big hat, my it was high
Had bananas and mangos all piled to the sky
And how she could balance them, I wouldn't dare
'Cause they don't dance like Carmen nowhere

While some of us left high school and joined the army, or got jobs cleaning houses for Candlelight Homes, Jones went on to a lucrative career as a Carmen Miranda impersonator. When I say "lucrative," I mean he didn't make one stinkin' cent at it. We were never quite sure why he wasn't more successful. We all encouraged him, and he was really into it. Even the most cursory glance at the above photos leaves the viewer struck with the uncanny resemblance.(That's Jones on the right) (I think.)

Just between you and me, I think it was because, with the exception of Jimmy Buffett, no one under the age of 60 had a clue who the hell Carmen Miranda was.

But the lady's not with us, she died long ago
And they don't run her movies on late midnight shows
'Cause the kids would get restless, and the grown-ups would snore
'Cause they don't dance like Carmen no more.

"They Don't Dance Like Carmen No More," By Jimmy Buffett

Outsiders!

My sister, Jennifer, sent me this photo of her friend. We'll call him "Billy," since that's his name. This was taking at Manzano High School about 1980 or 81-ish (I think. Jenn?)
Jennifer writes:

"At Manzano the various cliques were divided up by halls. Here's Billy in "E" hall which was the freak hall, wearing the standard black concert t-shirt, bell bottoms, and waffle stompers that you can't see. Had to have a red or blue bandana, too. Dunno what those stomps are doing in our hall, but they really couldn't look any stupider. You're making me miss all that with your blog! We had so much fun in high school. Sex, drugs and rock and roll hahahah."

Aside from the fact that she's my sister, I include this because, although the "Gang of Four" involved in Moonpie were from Eldorado, other important characters to connect with us came from other schools. David Lewis went to Sandia,IIRC. Mike and Jim Eskew went to Manzano and we used to crash their parties when they were still in middle school. I think Jeff Lampson and Randy Kirk also went there.

From Eldorado were me, Vance, Martin, Jones, Alan, Alan's brother Dean (or "Rollo" as Jones called him.) Blane. Who else?

And then there was the first time Jones took acid.....

...and it looked something like this drawing by Jim Woodring...

"Jones! Are you trippin?"
"I don't know, man."

Jones and acid went together about as well as Jones and booze, which is to say not at all.

It was at a party in, I think, December of 1979 when I was home on leave after re-enlisting in the Army. It was snowing, anyway.

Someone had acid or 'shrooms. I forget which. Me, Vance, and Jones did them, Jones for the first time. He sat on his knees in staring at a coffee table, sweating like a pig.

Of course, it was hotter than hell in there. I'm thinking maybe we were trying to convince Jones that that was where he was, too.

Later on, Vance and I split, deciding to drive up to Sandia Crest. We were drunk and tripping. But about the time we hit Cedar Crest, where the snow was about 10 inches deep, and no one else had traveled the road, the hallucinogen wore off. Suddenly we were just drunk. Vance hit a slick spot and the truck spun a 180. He didn't seem to notice, and I thought it was best to not mention it.

I guess we made it home safe and sound, though I have no clear proof of that.

From the Archives

I've been going through a bunch of old computer discs to see what I need to keep and what should go. I've found more from the original Moonpie Chronicles Online site that I was building. Here is a piece I wrote about the origins of the Moonpie Chronicles back in November of 2001 when I was trying to recover from a divorce, the shock of 9/11, and the loss of a really good job with Furr's Supermarkets, which had recently gone tits up. This will be reexamined later

Back in the mid-1970s, I was trying, as Jimmy Buffet once put it, to get by being quiet and shy in a world full of pushing and shove. Having moved to New Mexico from Rochester, New York, I was an outcast from society in general. This, of course, was back in the days before I realized that anyone from east of the Big Muddy were obnoxious vermin no better than a skunk, or at the very least a pesky varmint.

Eventually, I found acceptance through drugs. No kidding. Really. I've always thought that, but just now I realized that half the guys in our little gang didn't do drugs. Well.... That was a real waste of brain cells. It's a moot point anyway, because this is supposed to be about how the Moonpie Chronicles came into being. It was, as best as anyone recalls, about 1975 when Vance D. moved to Albuquerque. I met him through The Kawatiti Kid (AKA Jim Jones, who is a whole other story in himself.)

Vance had come from Memphis. He talked about it a lot and taught us the hip ways of the "Sooooooul Bruthahs."

How to talk: "You fum Maymphee?"*

What constituted classical music: Booker T. and the M.G.'s

How to wear our shoes: You tie the laces when you first buy the shoes and never again. Just mash the heels down and slip them on like clogs.

What to eat: Memphis Soul Food; A.K.A. Moonpie and an RC.
Say what? Moon what?

Vance couldn't believe we didn't know what it was, this classic southern treat. Even Jones and Martin, who had grown up in Plano, Texas hadn't heard of them (in all fairness, I believe that's the heart of Dr. Pepper country). Having the munchies, and no real desire to go to our next class, we took off down to the convenience store to buy some. They looked at us funny when we asked. We went to Circle K, 7-11, Allsup's, Piggly Wiggly, The Donut Shoppe (Pronounced "Sho-Payy") - everywhere. No one had R.C. cola, let alone Moonpies. Every inquiry was met with mistrust, shock, revulsion, threats of police action, requests to buy a joint from us.

Long story short (I'll go into more detail later), one morning, while getting stoned in a storm drain pipe, we were talking again about this elusive treat that seemed to be unavailable in Albuquerque, Martin says "Why don't we just go to Memphis and get some. We were pretty wasted and it seemed like a good idea. Thus was born the Moonpie Expedition.

I happened to have one of those hardbound blank journaling books. We took some magical-type markers and wrote Moonpie across the cover. On the inside we kind or wrote what the plan was, what we were hoping to find when we got to Memphis, fund-raising efforts, progress. We also had photos, drawings and newspaper clippings. The original story was quite short. At this writing that battered volume lies in the hands of Vance, somewhere back in Southeast Maryland. (If I ever get it back, I'll scan and/or transpose some of it and post it here.) I wrote "Moonpie 2", initially in 1979 as I set out to hitchhike around the country. Only portions of this one remain. "Learn How To Pretend" is a rough draft of a novel I've been working on for a couple of years that is based on events that took place just prior to The Moonpie 2 debacle - Ummmmm, I mean, "adventure." There are other scraps here and there. Senseless letters. Photos. We'll see what we can come up with.

* Just to dispel any thoughts of racism here, this was all done with the intent of utmost respect for that culture. We thought it was the shits.

Theme from "Jones": The Motion Picture

[Funky bass line here]

Back-up girls: Jones!
Issac Hayes: Who's the white private dick
That's thinks he's a sex machine to all the chicks?
Back-up girls: Jones!
Issac Hayes: You're damn right

Issac Hayes: Who is the man
That would risk his neck for his brother man?
Back-up girls:Jones!
Issac Hayes: Can ya dig it?

Issac Hayes: Who's the cat that won't cop out
When there's danger all about?
Back-up girls: Jones!?
Issac Hayes: Right on

Issac Hayes: You see this cat Jones is a bad mother--
Back-up girls: Shut your mouth.
Issac Hayes: But I'm talkin' about Jones.
Back-up girls: We know. We know. Would you shut up about him already?

Issac Hayes: He's a complicated man.
Back-up girls: No, serious. Shut the fuck up.

Issac Hayes: But no one understands him but the Professor.
Back-up girls: And we're not too sure about him, actually.
Issac Hayes: Jim Jones!
Back-up girls: That's our part!
Issac Hayes: Shhhh!
Back-up girls: But-
Issac Hayes: Shhh!
Back-up girls:It-
Issac Hayes: Shh!
Right on.

Tim Foster

Hey, remember Tim Foster? That guy that used to terrorize Jim Jones?

He's a friend of my sister Jennifer's now. He's really sick and tired of people telling how he used to beat them up in high school. He's in a band now. I've seen him play at parties a couple of times. I'm too old for that shit now. I must be because it's too loud!

Pissant and Jones

"Pissant and Jones." It sounds like the title of a hit 1970's Buddy Cop Movie

As promised, here is a photo of Martin "Pissant" Maskill. That's him on the right. To the left, and as out of focus then as he is today, stands James Horatio "Jones" Jones. Jones was the one who gave Martin the name of Pissant. Jones denies it, but we all think he got it from an episode of The Waltons.

The story goes that Martin was the one that came up with the idea. Original documents are on their way to the High Desert headquarters here for further examination and dissemination.

Connection-wise, I believe Jones and Martin knew each other from when they lived in Texas. I met Jones through another kid at school, Mike Clark. And I met Vance and Martin through Jones.

Jones will be referred to later. Jones is... well Jones. Everyone of us had Jones stories. When ever I would tell my son, "One time me and Jim Jones..." he would start laughing because he knew what was ahead.

Oh, yeah. And that's not a baggie of oregano in Martin's hands.