The night i met mike ness
When day turned to night, visitors would get a bowl of something, usually Mexican, that Dream cooked up and a red SOLO cup of beer. (Dream introduced me to chorizo.) Dream’s connection with Goldenvoice founder Gary Tovar provided a steady supply of primo weed and good times.
One such evening the Social Distortion crew shuffled in to partake of the revelry. It was my introduction to the band which had just returned from the infamous "Another State of Mind" tour. I would soon be one of the lucky few to sit in the cutting room and preview the movie that featured one of the most iconic moments in punk cinema: the Mike Ness makeup tutorial.
Dennis Danell (RIP), who some of us lovingly christened “slobbering heathen” because he would drool when he was drunk, had a flair for fashion and a goofy laugh that was highly contagious. Hailing from the ticky-tacky middle-class town of Fullerton in the purlieus of Orange County, Dennis and Mike were surf buddies in high school (I’ve seen the photo). Though it may have seemed antithetical to the punk aesthetic to be a beach bum, many OC punks along with Venice punks were surfers and/or skaters.
As the night wore on, I began to notice Mike noticing me.
At this very moment there are quite possibly thousands, if not tens of thousands, of women who would do nearly anything (even that!) to have Mike Ness’s undivided attention, but I was momentarily immune to his charms. After coyly smiling at me from across the room, he sauntered over, leaned in, and in his boyish, pre-junkie voice said, "Hi, I'm Mike. You're really pretty." He had at least an inch of smeared black eyeliner extending almost to his orbital bone, mild acne, and easily two weeks worth of Aqua Net keeping his hair erect. I found him amusing but not attractive. He whispered sweet somethings in my ear like “Why are you with Dream?” “Be with me.” I laughed.
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"she sings from somewhere you can't see