Free bird

I don't remember much of the summer of 1991, which is surprising to me. You would think that being my first summer as a high school graduate that it would of held some significance or importance. Perhaps it did and I was too fueled up on alcohol and narcotics to remember any of it. There were a few noteworthy parties at schools end, one thrown by Jazzy Jeff was quite epic, but failed to reach the legendary status of Woodstock 91'. Never the less we were all living it up and enjoying our first taste as "adults".

I was still going to Toronto on an almost daily basis. My co op placement was obviously done, but I was still helping Derek run his shop as a source of income for myself. Our band Slow Poke was truly living up to its name. We had been jamming for almost a year now, we had transitioned through a few bass players, and we still had our handful of songs. We couldn't seem to get a gig anywhere in the city without having a demo tape to give to club owners, so we figured we gad better get on that. Derek got the wheels in motion and started searching for someone to record us a demo.

Meanwhile in Brampton I was trying to juggle what little time I had between my family, my friends, and my new girlfriend Sue. Not an easy task when one spends most his time out of his hometown. Regardless, I was making moves. I was getting out and doing things, the things that I wanted to do. I never felt the need to try and force things, I was quite happy just riding the wave of life and seeing where it took me. My folks however weren't too keen on my freewheeling philosophy, as they were constantly on my back about getting a job.

Why did I loathe work? I tried a few places out that the job agency set me up with, but I never seemed to last more than a week in a placement. Dirty back breaking warehouse work was not for me. I was an artist. A musician. A writer. A visionary. I had my own secret agenda of goals and milestones to reach, and there was no way I'd reach them if I was slaving away in dirty factories. I didn't feel like I was above this type of work or the people who do such work, I just felt like I had so much to offer the world. How could I give my offerings to the world if I was trapped in a mindless job? I couldn't. I was free as a bird now, and it was time for the bird to spread his wings and fly...

The Real World

Well the big day had finally arrived and I was now officially a high school graduate. I ended up not attending the graduation ceremonies, as I had no interest in doing so. I did however decide to attend the after party. I was actually in Toronto that day hanging out with Derek at the shop. Once he closed up, I made my way to the hotel, which was over by Nathan Phillips Square. It ended up being a pretty uneventful night, with the exception of a bunch of jock douchebags who were trying to live up to the chaos my friends and I had created at the Aquinas grad. All in all it wasn't that memorable, I had a much better time crashing other schools grads.

So now I was in the real world. My mother was already on my case about finding a job, and she even took the liberty of applying to job agencies for me. In my mind I had no intention of finding a job, hell I had just worked a job for the last 13 years....it was called school. After spending a semester in the animation studio, I found it a bit boring and tedious. I knew deep down this wasn't what I wanted to do with my life, so I decided not to spend my parents money on college.

I was quite happy working for Derek and doing the band thing. D couldn't pay me much, but he made up for it with lots of free schwag and fancy dinners at trendy downtown restaurants. I didn't have a clue what I wanted to do with myself, but I was enjoying the place I was in. Back in Brampton however, my close friends were becoming rather perturbed with me, as I was spending most of my time in Toronto now. We decided to get together and go out on the town.

When that day came, we went to Backtrax, as it was still the only cool hangout spot in Brampton for punks and like minded people. We met up for some underage drinking, dancing, and videogames. Yes, the bar had a few coin operated arcade machines on site, so naturally that is where the beer gravitated me towards. I was playing one of these games when I first saw her. She was a fit, shapely goth girl with mysterious dark eyes and skin as white as a porcelain china doll. She was decked out in all black, including her makeup and very short, shaved hair. We made eye contact with each other and smiled. This flirting continued on until I finally mustered up the bravery to go talk to her. 

I made my move and we hit it off well. Her name was Sue, the same name as my mother. I figured this could be a blessing or perhaps not, but knowing what an angel my mother is, I decided to take a chance on Sue. We started talking on the phone the next day, and by the weeks end we were officially dating. Life seemed to be dealing me a good hand. My band was on the up and up and I graduated with colours that weren't necessarily "flying". I had no luck with girls throughout most of high school as I never applied myself, but now here I was just a week after graduating, and I'm handed this beautiful young woman. Life in the real world didn't seem so bad after all...

Happy 2014

Greetings everyone and happy 2014! I just wanted to make a quick post wishing everyone a happy new year. I hope you all had a great Christmas with your friends, families and loved ones. I took a bit of a break from my blog for the holidays but you can be sure it will be back in full force for the new year! 

Cheers! 

-Kabal

The Legend of Foxy Bano

One of my friends I've yet to really mention yet in this blog is Shane, a.k.a. "Foxy Bano" one of the many older guys I met in my circle of friends. Shane was a tall, pale, lanky fellow with a very interesting facial structure. When I first started hanging around all the thrasher guys he always seemed to give me the business. It was as if he had something against me for being younger, or perhaps he felt threatened by a new person entering the circle. Never the less I really paid him no mind, but inside it was starting to bother me.

I asked some of the guys what his deal was, and also inquired about the nick name "Foxy Bano" As the story goes, Shane was quite pale as i mentioned prior, so the guys used to call him "Shane Albino" which didn't flow or rhyme to well, so it morphed into "Shane-o Albane-o" or "Shane Albane" Over time it was shortened to simply "Bano" Then one night while partying at Dove's listening to Jimi Hendrix's "Foxy Lady" a guy named Danny had a bright idea to sing "oooooh Foxy Bano!" over the chorus. The room erupted in laughter and the rest was history.

One day in an English class, that coincidentally about 10 of us from the circle were in, the guys were swapping stories about Shane. Most of the stories were funny things that had happened to him, the kind of stories you really didn't want your buddies spreading around. Myself still being a noob to the group and looking to impress my new older friends, thought it would be a great idea to make a comic strip about Bano. I quickly hammered out a full page comic strip illustrating one of the stories they had told me in class. All of the guys were in hysterics and I had never really seen this light hearted side of them. Feeling like I was finally accepted by these guys, I did what any other impressionable kid would do.....I made more Bano comics!

The next week I was at the Hex Arcade in Bramalea City Centre playing "Altered Beast" when I was approached by Bano. He gave me the usual business like always, but he was extra douchey because he had caught wind about the comics. Now he was challenging me to step outside and fight him in the exact same parking lot where I watched Boots whip Maggot's ass. I guess I was fed up with him trying to bully me and I hit my boiling point. I flung my hands away from the coin op machine, looked him dead in the eye and said "Ok let's go!" The look on his face was priceless as he was a bit taken back by my reaction. Bano paused for a minute, then said "today's your lucky day, I've been Christmas shopping and I've got breakables in my coat pocket" I thought to myself "bullshit" It was clear that my standing up for myself slightly intimidated him to some degree, and he left on his merry way.

The following Monday at school I was hanging with the guys on lunch in the commons area of our high school when along came Bano. This time around his attitude was quite different. He sat right beside me and asked me how I was doing, and he actually genuinely seemed to care. The next thing I knew we were chatting and hitting it off. Bano even asked if he could read the comics, and surprisingly he was a big enough man to have a laugh at himself. We went on o be good friends and he even asked if he could have the comics because he liked them so much. I agreed as long as he was cool with me having copies of my art. 

When I first introduced Jerry into the circle, Bano didn't like him either, and he was constantly trying to get me to ditch Jerry. As the years passed on, Jerry and Bano ended up becoming best of friends. Who would of ever thought? As far as my comics go, I had enough story ideas from the guys to make a second comic book, but I never did get around to it, probably because I was accepted, and now good friends with Shane.

 Bano never got around to making me photocopies of my own artwork. Was this all a ruse just so he could possess the comics, knowing full well no one would ever have a laugh at his expense again? Now in present time I kind of resent him for this, as these comics were really what won my friends over and I feel they played an important part in my life. Plus as an artist not having your own art is also very frustrating. Perhaps now,  25 years later, I should put out volume two just to spite....and to preserve the legend of Foxy Bano... ;)

The proposed cover of the 2nd issue of Foxy Bano comics

Grand Ole' Party Crashers

June of 1991 was an epic month in my life. Woodstock was a success and people would definitely be talking about it for years to come. Asides from my friends and I throwing the biggest party during our high school run, graduation was now around the corner. I was happy to be saying goodbye to school life, but I just felt so dis attached from the whole event. None of my friends were really in school with me anymore, so it wasn't like I even had people to celebrate with. Hell, I never even bothered getting grad photos done, much to the dismay of my mother.

So if I wasn't excited about my own graduation then what was I to do? Crashing other schools grad parties seemed like a logical idea! A co worker of mine who attended Aquinas catholic high school, invited me to her grad party at some hotel in Mississauga. I knew she had a crush on me, and I wasn't very interested in her, but I wasn't going to miss out on the chance to party crash.

I ended up going with Jerry, Foxy Bano, & Lance Romance. Somehow I managed to get my hands on a 40 ouncer of tequila, but I only brought one can of pop for mix. After my first stiff drink the can of pop was gone so I started drinking right out the bottle. At one point I stuck my torso out the window to talk to some people I knew. I had a beer in hand one of the girls had given me. Next thing I know a female cop was instructing me to come out of the window. I ended up in the back of the car and we hadn't even been at the party for 30 minutes. 

The officer told me I would be receiving a fine for drinking in public, which we called a "53" as the ticket price was $53.75. We'll as fate would have it, the fine penalty had just been doubled, and was now increased to $107.50. Thankfully for me, I had no identification on me, and an attitude that I wasn't going to go out like that. I totally bullshitted the cop in regards to all my personal info. I even told her my name was Anthony Kiedis, lead singer of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. After receiving my fine I left the car, chewed the ticket up, and spit out the wet, shredded pieces of paper in front of everyone who had just witnessed the altercation. The officer in question was still literally right behind me in her car. I headed back into the hotel room and reclaimed my bottle of Tequila.

From that point forward shit got crazy. I had no mix left, and I ended up drinking the entire 40 oz. of tequila straight. By this point we were all insanely drunk, so naturally it was time for the madness to ensue. We ran around the hallways smashing all the light fixtures and mirrors. Not satisfied with the level of darkness, we decided to find the main circuit panel for the entire hotel. We took every single fuse and smashed them. The hotel was now in complete blackout mode. From there we started working our way from room to room, walking in on unknown strangers parties, yet nobody knew who anyone was because it was so dark. We proceeded to steal what alcohol we could and raid the over priced mini fridges. Then we would head to the next room and repeat the process.

Before long it seemed like everyone started following suit, crazed drunken fools now ran amok, arson and vandalism in full swing. The pinnacle of party crashing was reached when a television from one of the rooms managed to find its way through a plate glass door. After that, police presence was high, people were getting kicked out of their rooms left right and centre, and we were booting down the road in our escape vehicle laughing hysterically. I felt amazing and could not believe I was in such great shape after drinking an entire 40 of tequila to myself. It was my first time trying it and I loved it. I had heard a lot of people's horror stories in regards to Tequila, but she was alright in my books.

Ironically, the story made it to the local paper that week. The article however claimed that a gang of skinheads were responsible for the chaos. I couldn't stop laughing as only one out of the four of us had a shaved head at the time. Regardless of the medias false portrayal of us, we were now infamous! 

Woodstock 91' pt.2

As the sun slowly set, more and more people showed up to the old farmhouse on McVean road. Dove had set the DJ equipment up in the kitchen, which was on the backside of the house. The speakers were positioned out on the back deck, which had been transformed into a stage for the evening, so the bands would have an area to perform. Yes, bands, plural. Originally E.B.S. was the only band set to play, but I was a bit shocked when the Demon Barf boys showed up with their equipment. Somehow they had managed to weasel themselves onto the bill. I remember being slightly pissed off about this, as they weren't set to play, they weren't on the flyer advertised as playing, and I'm pretty sure none of the occupants of the house actually invited them to play. Inside I was feeling a bit of resentment towards them, probably because of how they snuck their way onto the bill without an invite. Looking back I think it bothered me more so that these guys had their shit together and were actually doing something, while my band was still a mere science experiment.

Never the less, they put on a somewhat memorable performance, depending on your level of intoxication. By the time E.B.S. hit the stage I was three sheets to the wind. I don't remember much of the set, but I do recall how surreal it was watching them perform in the backyard of a farmhouse, their precious gear surrounded by a chicken wire fence, which we all hung off of in a drunken mosh. The highlight of the set was when they played "Screamin' Boogies" their "rap song" My buddy Eggman was throwing down on the muddy, earthen dance floor like he was in the club. Egg was breakdancing, doing the running man, and other assorted dance moves. Every time the chorus came along, majority of us started a "GO EGGMAN!" chant, which just fuelled him even more to cut up the rug. 

Once both bands were done playing, Dove started spinning music from the kitchen DJ station. The general rule was nobody in the house except for close friends. Dove made an exception for females who needed to use the bathroom. So the kitchen turned into the grass smoking hang out spot for the homies. There was people everywhere by now. If I had to guess, I'd say at least 250-500 people were in attendance by this point. A few of our friends were even AWOL, as the Guns n' Roses concert was in Toronto that very same night, so they'd all be arriving later. Somehow a known local felon who shall rename anonymous, made his way into the kitchen, and within minutes you could feel the tension in the air. This guy had the audacity to try and kick me out of my own friends house merely because he didn't like my haircut. Feeling somewhat intimidated, I rounded up a few of the guys, and we got him out of the house eventually with much of a scene.

Tension was high by this point, people were everywhere, and we were struggling to keep things under control. Incidents were not in high numbers, but there was a bit of drama going on none the less. Like the two coked out girls who got caught making out topless in the bathroom. Eggman and I made a point of telling anyone who would listen to us about what we had just walked in on. Before long one of the girls who was completely irate by this point, threatened to go get her boyfriend to kick my ass. When she returned with him, it ended up being one of my older friends. Once he saw it was me, he laughed and told her "That's Theo, he's cool" I felt a bit of relief none the less.

Once the G n' R concert ended, even more people started showing up. I really have no clue what the total number of people in attendance was that night, but the rumours of "upwards of 1000" people showing up didn't seem that far off. It was like no sight I had ever seen. I had never been to a party of such magnitude. There were mini parties all within the big picture, and you could literally just float around from circle to circle, mingling with strangers and catching up with school mates and friends. Somewhere along the line I ended up chatting with some drunk girl, which led to us rolling in the grass making out for the rest of the evening, the dew now starting to form on the cold, wet ground.

Eventually the guys found me, and it was time to get out of here. Somehow Limey had managed to get a ride home with Jerry and I. As we were leaving we noticed a massive police presence at the edge of the long driveway, it was as if half of the force was on call. We had totally pulled one over on the boys in blue. Here we were having quite possibly the biggest party in Brampton history and the cops didn't even know about it until it was full bloom. The fact that the farmhouse was on private property just sweetened the victory, as the cops literally couldn't do anything, with the exception of stopping people as they left to see if they were driving drunk or not. We had succeeded in throwing the biggest bash of the year. Even quite possibly the biggest bash Brampton had ever seen.

We got through the makeshift ride check no problem, and we were on our way home, just in time to beat the rising sun. Shortly after we started driving, Limey told Jerry he was going to be sick. Jerry didn't want to stop the car so close to the police, so we slowly drove down the country road, the back door slightly open, with Limey's head sticking out and spewing vomit. As I dozed off in a drunken stupor, all that rang through my head were Jerry's words to Limey "If you get any puke in or on my car I'm going to kick the shit out of you"

Eyes closed, I cracked a smile. I thought to myself, in the words of the Irish Rovers...

"Wasn't that a party?" 

Woodstock 91' pt.1

Graduation was right around the corner, my band Slow Poke was slowly coming together, and life was quite peachy. My buddy Dove had started living in a farmhouse with a couple of other guys just on the outskirts of Brampton towards Caledon, which would be considered "the country" by some. Dove decided he wanted to throw a big party at his new digs. We sat around discussing said party, and yours truly was elected to create a flyer for the event. A group of us sat around a friends kitchen table coming up with a name and concept for the party and flyer respectively. Eventually we decided to call the party "Woodstock 91', so I came up with a flyer displaying the name, date, details, map, and a cartoon picture of all of us partying. Epileptic Brain Surgeons agreed to perform at the party, so having their name on the flyer would surely draw more people in.

Once the flyer was done, we headed to the mall to get photocopies made. From there we went around the mall handing them out. Dove had only come up with the idea a mere week before the date of the party, so we had to move fast with our guerrilla marketing tactics. We distributed flyers to all of our friends who went to different high schools, they way everyone in every high school would be aware of the party. We even went as far as to frequent strip joint parking lots and put flyers under people's windshield wipers. Then somebody came up with the idea of actually inviting some strippers to the party, so we headed to the Sword & Shield, Brampton's most sleaziest and infamous strip joint.

I wasn't even of age, but the bouncers let me in without question. This was my second time ever in an adult establishment, the first time being when I was merely 15 and Jerry and I got served at "Chez Paris" Now I sat in amazement viewing scantily clad women all around me while the boys were schmoozing with strippers and handing flyers out as we drank 99 cent draft beer out of small, dirty glasses. 

By mid week the buzz was all over town and throughout the schools about Woodstock 91'. There had been quite a few epic parties during my high school days, but without question this was going to be the biggest. Rumours were quickly spreading about how many people were going to be there. According to the masses there would be 1000 people attending. EBS were set to perform, and on top of that Dove had rented a serious p.a. sound system for the music to boom through at full capacity.

Friday finally came, the school week was over, and it was time for Woodstock 91'. I can't remember who it was, but one of the guys picked me up after school. I think it was Shane "Foxy Bano" Adams. We quickly grabbed our party favours and headed up to the farm house in the late afternoon. When we arrived there were a handful of guys, mostly new found biker friends of Dove's, sitting on the porch drinking beer. We joined them and cracked a cold one. The sun was blazing, the birds were chirping, and it was a nice relaxing gathering of friends. That would all change in a mere matter of hours...