My Mom rarely throws anything away. I wouldn't say that she's a hoarder of tragic proportions, not like some you may have read about, but her home is unquestionably a museum of old magazines, old clothes, useless furniture, dried-out magic markers and cat knick-knacks. "No Surface Left Uncovered," I like to say. Every once in a while, her hoarding leads to unexpected discoveries, like a plastic baggie full of paper items retrieved from the glove box of the Dodge I drove throughout the early 90s. As I sorted through them, these papers recalled a tattered reality of past lives, past loves, old friends and past decadence.
I used to have an assortment of little cards like this one, which typically carried a handwritten signature on the back (otherwise it was fairly useless.) That signature (theoretically) endowed the presenter with the ability to purchase certain "specialized groceries" at said location(s), which would not have been available to the walk-in patron.
"Song For Uncle Wiggly to Sing" - Lyrics that were never musically realized, penned for us by friend and genius painter/performer TJK Haywood aka Wooden Thomas. His work also adorns the cover of the second Uncle Wiggly LP, Across The Room and Into Your Lap. Here's a link to Wooden Thomas' web site, and a free mp3 from his milestone album, Age of Aquarium.
Envelope and postcard from Thailand. Sent by Sari Rubinstein, now The Queen of Rubulad. Inside the envelope were a personal letter to me, and this glorious postcard of the Wat Chayamangkalaram Buddhist temple in Penang. The postcard lacked a street address, but was written and addressed in name to my friends Mark Ashwill and Julie Spodek. I guess I was supposed to hand deliver it. Note my proto-hip Bedford Ave. address. Some goateed beatnik no doubt lives there now and pays 4X the rent my roommate and I paid in 1992.
I took a very memorable driving trip to New Orleans one Christmas with an old girlfriend (she's very big in NY Hip-Hop these days and may prefer not to be "outed" as once having dated an indie rock hipster doofus.) Despite my 102° fever upon our arrival, we had a great time, slept in a fleabag hotel, ate the best breakfast I've ever eaten at the Hollywood hotel, ate alligator sausage tapas, saw Jamón, jamón, and visited the local arcane hotspots of our choice. Among these was the New Orleans Pharmacy Museum, from which I saved this now very tattered (and very folded) brochure. The place had a beautiful open-air garden in the rear, and was filled floor-to-ceiling with glass cases containing leeches, paregoric (for teething), and heroin (for coughs.)
A monthly flyer from the 9:30 Club in Washington, DC (note Mon. June 1 show.) Look at the talent they were presenting within one month, and just try and tell me that the early 90s was not a fertile time for underground music: Bewitched, Eek-A-Mouse, Grant Hart, The Mekons, Band of Susans, Ian McCulloch, Ride, Jah Wobble, Pavement and remember Basehead?
Wonderful postcard from a once dear friend, then in Prague. Uncle Wiggly spent a few days off in Prague in 1991 and I loved it: beautiful castles and architecture, cobblestones, strong vodka, Kafka and a dynamite exchange rate on our American dollars (just don't eat the wurstl, do that in Austria.) Sadly, this person will no longer return my phone calls or even answer an email from me. I guess that's what Step 9 is supposed to be for.
Lastly, an invite to the release party for Uncle Wiggly's first 7". Artwork borrowed from the great science fiction illustrator Jean Ignace Isidore Gérard, alias Grandville, whose work we also used on our 7" sleeve and 1st LP cover.
More historical junk to be presented here, as it is unearthed (by Mom.)