What a jackass. Me, I mean.
A warm autumn evening, 1996. I was sitting on the front porch of the venerable Stanford House, home and hangout to various musicians from Word Salad, Logical Nonsense and Hell Hath No Fury. We were waiting for some Green Party mayoral candidate. “We” being the collective nonentity known as Rebel Radio, comprised of various activists, anarchists, musicians, freaks and weirdos.