It's Just A Ride; The Importance Of Bill Hicks

As I start to write this on the evening of February 26, 2011, it has been 17 years to the day since Bill Hicks died. He was such an influential comedian (although that term hardly covers what the man did) that each Feb 26 is #BillHicksDay on Twitter. I cannot possibly overstate the importance of Bill Hicks in my life. His philosophical comedy so closely matches much of my personality and feelings about life that on some level I consider him the older brother I never had. He was able to succinctly and concisely express far better than I ever could my views of the world. He and George Carlin are the only 2 people that I have ever called "heroes".

Although I had been a fan of his work from seeing him on Late Night With David Letterman many times over the years, it wasn't until some time after his death that I really was able to get more into his philosophical musings. In 1997 Rykodisc re-issued the 2 albums Hicks was able to put out while he was alive, Dangerous and Relentless, plus issued Arizona Bay, the album he was working on at the time of his death, and Rant In E-Minor, which comprised much of the newer material he'd done that wasn't going to fit into the concept of Arizona Bay. I bought all 4, and instantly dove into the mind of a kindred spirit. I have yet to emerge, and am incredibly grateful for it.

Speaking of Hicks and Letterman, I missed by ONE FUCKING DAY being at the infamous taping that marked the last time Hicks was to appear on Letterman's show. I was a frequent attendee of Letterman's tapings at NBC, having gone to 4 or 5 from 1990 thru 1993. So I was all primed and ready and had managed to get a couple of tickets to be at a show only a month into his highly touted move over to CBS. I went with my girlfriend at the time on September 30, 1993, and we had a good time. But had the tickets been for one day later, who knows how things could have been. Hicks' set that night was not earth-shattering, but it was good, and contained some interesting ideas. He only had about 5 and a half minutes, so he wasn't going to be able to delve TOO deeply into the philosophies that were vital to his act. But at least I would have been able to say I'd seen him live.

As it turns out, his set was axed from the final broadcast later that night, which led to an enraged and frustrated Hicks firing off a 39 page letter to John Lahr of The New Yorker. Lahr had been working on a profile of Hicks for the magazine anyway, and this just became an even better reason to write about him. Less than 5 months later, Hicks himself was axed from the face of the planet, as the pancreatic cancer he had recently been diagnosed with claimed his life. Thankfully, his work lives on, and continues to grow far beyond the reach he'd ever been able to achieve while alive. More and more people have looked to his work as a source of inspiration, and with the rise of the internet since his death, it's become more accessible, popular, accurate, and important. YouTube is filled with clips from Hicks on topics such as music, drugs, marketing, and the meaning of life...amongst many other topics.

One of the more interesting YouTube clips is from the night that Letterman had Mary Hicks, mother of Bill, on as a guest in late January 2009. For whatever reason, Letterman had decided that it was time to right a MAJOR wrong, and as the 15th anniversary of Hicks' death approached, he finally aired the set that had been cut. I actually have a 3 page hand-written letter I received from Mary Hicks back in 1998, when I expressed my gratitude for her son's work. She thanked me for my interest in his work; "It is heartwarming to receive such letters." I then ordered a couple of the videos that were available from the Arizona Bay Production Company that she ran, and am only now upgrading one of those to DVD (Sane Man, as it was re-released a few years ago with bonus material).

I was even able to talk about Hicks with Henry Rollins when I met him after his recent show in Los Angeles that I attended. Henry was on his short "50" tour marking the occasion of his 50th birthday, and I pointed out to him that there must have been something in the water in this country in late 1960/early 1961, as both he and Hicks were born the same year. Rollins is a great fan of Hicks as well, and even wrote some liner notes for a 2 CD & 2 DVD set called The Essential Collection. What would have been Hicks' 50th birthday will be this December 16...curious as to how that occasion will be marked.

It would be possible for me to spend far too long going on about the importance of Bill Hicks...and it still wouldn't be long enough to completely express the sentiment. I'll leave you with words that Bill often closed his shows with; "You know all that money we spend on nuclear weapons and defense every year? Trillions of dollars. Instead, if we spent that money feeding and clothing the poor of the world, which it would pay for many times over, not one human being excluded...not one...we could as one race explore inner and outer space together in peace, forever."


Blog Post Soundtrack; Metallica (live), Mondo Generator, Monty Python, ZZ Top, Pearl Jam (live), Them Crooked Vultures, The Donnas, Mr. Bungle, George Carlin, The Simpsons (w/Robert Goulet), The Mars Volta, Ike & Tina Turner, The Misfits, The White Stripes (live), Deftones, Blur, Eric Clapton, The Beastie Boys, The Specials, Tricky (covering Public Enemy), David Steinberg, Tampa Bay Lightning at New York Rangers, and, of course, Bill Hicks...

Mental Projector

It's been a while, but I finally changed the picture at the top of this blog to another of my many travel shots. This one I haven't even posted on Panoramio (yet...), but I realized it would work well for the look of the blog. It was taken back in January of 2009 on my Southern Utah/Northern Arizona driving vacation that encompassed me seeing things like the magnificent Horseshoe Bend, a 180 degree turn of the Colorado River near Page, Arizona. The river has cut thru the earth at such an angle that as it makes it's turn at this point, it resembles a horseshoe (when viewed from above). It has also eroded the earth to a point that the surrounding cliffs are roughly 1,000 feet high, making for quite a spectacular view when you are standing there in person. As with many things in life, while there are nice pictures of it, no mere photograph can truly do it justice. I felt a true sense of awe standing there gazing over the chasm...every once in a while you are slapped in the face with your true insignificance, yet at the same time you are left marvelling at the beauty that surrounds you.

The picture at the top of the blog, however, was taken near the southern entrance of Zion National Park, just a little bit north of the "sleepy little resort town" (one is required to describe places of this nature with that phrase) of Springdale, Utah. Traversing along a winding path called Floor Of The Valley Road, you are surrounded by beautiful outcroppings of rock, and when the sun hits them just right, they look even more amazing. I purposely did this trip in January, because I figured it would look even more beautiful with a decent amount of snow around. It was also nice to quite often be pretty much the only person around for miles. Having grown up in New York, I'm not afraid of a little inclement weather, but as you can see, really all Mother Nature did was enhance some of it's beauty.

Bryce Canyon National Park was another portion of this journey, and again, there were plenty of moments when I put the camera down and just stood there soaking in the imagery with nothing but my eyes, and my soul. It's possible to get lost behind a lens and just click away and not entirely enjoy the experience of being where you are; I try not to let that happen. And with places like this, you really can't. The pictures are nice, but every time I look at them, they mainly serve as a spark for the mental photographs I have which are far more breathtaking. A truly stunning place, which will definitely be visited again before I'm finished on this plane of existence.



Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park was the other main destination on this extensive driving trip. Located in the northeast corner of Artizona, you actually enter the park from the southern portion of Utah. If you've ever seen a Western film directed by John Ford, you've seen part of Monument Valley. And the picture to the left is the typical image of the area, but there is so much more to it than that...not that it isn't stunning in it's own right. Another truly jaw-dropping experience, seeing these incredible rock formations reminds you of just how small your place in the universe really is. There is a 17 mile dirt road that loops thru the area, and you can't drive too fast on it...but why would you want to? These destinations are in the middle of nowhere, and it takes lots of driving time to get there, so since all this time has already been invested, you make damn sure to leisurely meander around, absorbing the natural beauty that encompasses your field of vision. I had truly beautiful weather the day I was there, and got some amazing pictures, but still the best ones play on the projector in my head...


Blog Post Soundtrack; Alice In Chains, Louis Prima, Pink Floyd (live), Joy Division, Medeski Martin & Wood, International Noise Conspiracy, Motorhead, Bjork (live), Louis Jordan, Fear Factory, Smashing Pumpkins, Pearl Jam (live), Samhain, Chemical Brothers, Primus, Misfits (live), Mr. Bungle, Rolling Stones, Dead Milkmen (live)...(and yes, I see the irony in that), Tomoyasu Hotei

Frank Frazetta & My Father

One of the greatest artists of this era passed away on May 10. Frank Frazetta was responsible for so many fantastic pieces of fantasy art, there have already been 3 major art books collecting just his painting in that genre, as well as many other books, catalogs, prints, posters, etc, reproducing his work in all areas. I've been a fan of his work probably since before I even realized it. When I was a young teenager, I used to enjoy reading Conan novels, and many of his amazing paintings have graced the cover of those books. His Conan is the definitive version, filled with power, emotion, action, and almost always at least one voluptuous babe.

Frazetta is often put in the same category as Boris Vallejo, but I have always been of the opinion that Frazetta is vastly superior. Vallejo's work always revolves around a perfectly posed person, in an obvious fake position (that no one in whatever situation the painting involves would find themselves in) to better flex the perfectly smooth oiled muscles. No one in Vallejo's paintings ever has anything wrong with them, and that's precisely what's wrong with the paintings. The people have no character, no history...no interest. They were obviously just muscle bound models posing for a painting. Kinda boring.

Frazetta’s subjects, on the other hand, all have interesting characteristics about them. For one thing, his paintings are completely out of his head. No models posing, no photographic reference, nothing of the sort. No woman in any of his paintings would ever be caught on the cover of a modern fashion magazine, because they've all got some meat on them, dammit! They've all got curves that are amazing, and are giving stunning, sultry looks, and they are all beautiful. The creatures that are often the protagonists in his paintings are the stuff of nightmares, which you obviously couldn’t have photographic reference for. And as for the men, whether it be Conan or Tarzan or some random adventure hero, they have all obviously lived a life before the moment of that painting. They've got scars, they've got hair flying all over the place, they’ve got gritted teeth, they've got emotion...they've got life!

Frazetta’s paintings, while not photo-realistic, are as real as real life for one big reason; they’re not perfect. They aren’t overly polished. They have a rough, dirty quality to them that makes them look as if, however fantastic the situation being depicted may be, that you could step into the world in that painting. It’s easier to accept something that isn’t perfect, because, obviously, neither is the world we live in, nor ourselves.

Frazetta, the man, also has another meaning for me on a completely personal level. There is a definite resemblance to the younger Frazetta (from the 1950’s; the picture below is a 25 year old Frazetta in 1953), to my father from roughly the same time. Frazetta, born in 1928, was 6 years older than my father, who is still alive. I have an image burned in my mind of a photo of my father from probably the early 1960’s, when he would have been in his late 20’s, and I see a great similarity to Frazetta of about the same age and era. They both had the James Dean quality of good looks going for them. Young, trim, athletic. My mom has the picture in question somewhere in their home in New York. I’ll have to make a point of finding it when I go back for my next visit.

Also, my father has been an artist, strictly as a hobby, for pretty much all his life, and his specialty, much like Frazetta, was oil painting. He’s worked in all mediums, but his oil paintings were what he concentrated most on, and produced his best work in. My favorite painting of his, a tiger that he saw in a magazine ad somewhere, is the one painting I asked to take with me when I moved out here to Las Vegas over 10 years ago. It’s been hanging proudly on the wall over the fireplace since I first moved into my house back in July 2001. There are also several Frazetta prints on the walls around the house, and I think it’s rather special that both Frazetta and my father share some of the same space.



Thanks to frankfrazetta.org for the images, except the tiger painting, which I took a picture of with my iPhone...


Blog Post Soundtrack; ZZ Top, Fugazi, Primus, Queens Of The Stone Age, No Doubt, Desert Sessions, Brant Bjork, Van Halen, Bjork, Metallica, Infectious Grooves, Pearl Jam, John Connelly Theory, Iron Maiden, Zeke, The Misfits, Jimi Hendrix

An Open Letter To Steve Martin

The following entry is a letter I sent to Steve Martin back in April of 2009, and aside from a few small changes for grammar and tense (that's tense as in "past and present tense", not "nervous and tense"...), this is exactly what I mailed out;

Dear Steve Martin,

Every once in a while a death makes me do things. I just found out today (April 15, 2009) about the passing of Clement Freud. Having well over a hundred different episodes of Just A Minute on my iPhone, I would rarely go more than a few days without hearing Clement’s melodious tones as I made my way thru the work day. Being a mailman with a large apartment complex to deliver, I could often go over an hour at a time without having any sort of interruption, other than the oh-so-fascinating pieces of mail to deliver, so music and comedy are huge for me. Being a fan of Clement’s wit, intellect, and rapid responses, especially for a man in his late 70’s and early 80’s (when the majority of my episodes are from within his lifespan), I often thought about sending him a letter just to let him know how much his humor has meant to me. So, being me, I of course never got around to it.

I just wanted to tell you that over the last 3 decades, you have made me laugh many, many, many times. I can remember quoting “Excuuuuse Me!” when I was about 7 or so, most likely from seeing you on The Muppet Show. I’ve recently being watching my Muppet Show DVD’s, and as much as I enjoy them all, your episode is a particular favorite. I have all of your comedy albums on the iPhone, and will hear tracks from them from time to time at work, and they always make me smile, no matter how many times I’ve heard them. It always struck me as some of the most clever and inventive material. My ‘heroes’ are George Carlin and Bill Hicks, for making us look at ourselves and challenging us to improve, and you rank somewhere near them in my comedy files. I love that most good comedians make you look at the everyday in a way that actually makes you think, if you’re willing to put in the effort. I listen to Monty Python, Richard Jeni, Mitch Hedberg, Eddie Izzard, Ross Noble, and yourself, and while all are different, at the same time, each of them makes you stop and look at something you’d ordinarily take for granted, and approach it from a different angle, and usually realize just how stupid it really is. Somehow, that’s comforting…

L.A. Story is one of my favorite films. I remember seeing it in the theater with a friend, and neither of us being quite sure of what we just saw. But I realized I was still thinking about it later, so I knew there was something to it that was worth it. I’ve got that on the iPhone too, and I’ll watch it every once in a while, enjoying every little joke that seems innocuous enough, but realizing they really do pack a punch, and have meaning. Because of that film, I became a fan of Django Reinhardt’s music (which kind of came full circle when I saw Dave McKean use some of his music in his short films…my favorite being ‘The Week Before’).

I also really enjoyed reading Born Standing Up. I voraciously read that over the course of 2 or 3 days, in any spare time I had. Enjoyed it immensely, as I always like learning more about people I admire. I can find out how the trick is done, and yet still appreciate the magic and the performance. And I admire a person who is so multi-talented, what with the magic, juggling, comedy, acting, writing…and an aficionado of art (I have a t-shirt of the Robert Crumb Weirdo cover you own from when your original art collection was at the Bellagio). I’m a comic book art collector myself, it is rather addictive. And I enjoy going to conventions, to meet artists I admire, and to get a chance to tell them how much I enjoy their work.

Basically, I wanted to thank you for being you. For making me use the brain. For expanding my musical horizons. For helping pass the time while I was at work. And for making me laugh.

Thanks Steve.

Sincerely,



Ken Fries

Greg Moore

The photo that is currently up on the blog here is one I took of race car driver Greg Moore at a race in Nazareth, PA, in April, 1999. I was living in New York at the time, and the CART Series (Championship Auto Racing Teams, what everyone knows as IndyCars) came to Nazareth once a year. Even though it was only a couple hours drive away, I got a hotel the first time I went in 1998. When I went again in 1999, I just drove back and forth each day over the race weekend.

I'd been a fan of CART since the early 90's, and got more heavily into it starting in 1996, which was Greg's first year in the series. He came off the most successful season ever in Indy Lights, the top junior series for racing at the time, winning 10 of 12 races that year, and running away with the championship. He immediately made an impact in his first season in CART. While not winning his first race until mid-1997, he was a consistent top-5 finisher, often challenging for the lead, and running well in the season championship. He only managed 5 race victories in his career, and never did win a championship at the CART level, but he was definitely a success.

He was also a very friendly and approachable person. One of the more popular drivers in the series, he was liked by fans and competitors alike. Since CART never approached NASCAR-like success in this country, the drivers were accessible at races. I was able to meet Greg at several races over the late 90's, taking many pictures of him both in and out of the car. The above photo was of him getting his gear on as he prepared to go out for a practice session. I eventually had this shot blown up to 9 X 12", and had him sign it when I met him again at a race in Cleveland in July of 1999. Matted and framed, it's on the wall over the fireplace in my home, underneath a favorite painting by my father.

I think because he was a rookie in 1996, plus that was the first year I followed the series from opener to closer, and the car he drove was sponsored by Player's (a Canadian tobacco brand) and decked out in the coolest shade of blue, made him my favorite. While I enjoyed watching races, and did like some of the other drivers, Greg was always the one I really pulled for, and really wanted to see win. I remember being so thrilled when he pulled out an amazing victory in Detroit in 1997, coming from a very close third to win on the last lap, when both cars of the PacWest team ran out of fuel in front of him! They had gambled big, and lost big, but Greg had been right there all thru the race, and it was fantastic to see him win.

The first time I met him, at Nazareth in April 1998, I got one of my favorite photographs ever. Greg came out to meet the fans for a few minutes, chatted with people, signed autographs, and posed for photos. His father, who was his manager as well, came out to let him know he was needed back at work. As the two of them turned to walk back into their tent, I snapped one last picture on the crappy camera I had at the time. It wasn't until I got the film developed (you see, in the old days, cameras had film...) about a week later that I realized I'd gotten a gem. The picture has Greg on the left, with his father to his right, walking in lockstep away from the camera back into the tent. The two of them were always very close, with Ric being Greg's coach, guide, agent, mentor, manager, and friend all thru his career. I had 8 X 10"s made of that, and separately presented each of them with a copy when I saw them in Nazareth in 1999. I also had them both sign one for me, which is framed and on top of a bookcase here in my home office.




This Halloween will mark the 10th anniversary of the death of Greg Moore, who was killed in the final race of the 1999 CART season, doing what he loved to do. He was 24.


Blog Post Soundtrack; Slipknot, Tom Lehrer, Danzig, The Runaways, The Coasters, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Bo Diddley, The English Beat, Queen, Queens Of The Stone Age, Alice In Chains, Anthrax, and the Vancouver Canucks visiting the Chicago Blackhawks in the background

We Actually Deliver The Dead As Well

Yeah, yeah, another Postal anecdote. What can I say, I've had a few interesting stories accumulate over the past 14 years on the job...

Back in Roslyn Heights, a fairly affluent suburb on Long Island, New York, I never had my own route. My job was to cover 5 different routes on their rotating days off. Consequently, I would only see each route once a week. Even so, I would start to pick up little nuances about each route here and there.

One particular house had a fairly decent sized dog that would always bark loudly as I walked his cul de sac. His house happened to be the last one on that relay, so I would hear him barking at me, over the noise from my Walkman (remember those, kids? Told you I've been doing this a long time), for quite a few minutes before I got to his house. He would run up and down the yard alongside the house, happily barking away, I think somewhat upset that he was trapped behind this fence while I was outside able to roam free and have fun.

So one week, I must've made it about halfway thru that cul de sac before I realized that I hadn't heard "Cujo" (I never did know the dog's name) barking. While I did think that was unusual, I just figured they were out for the day, or he'd been taken to the vet for a check-up, or a trip to the park, something innocuous like that.

Fast forward to the next week when I was on that route again, and this time I had a Registered parcel for that house. A Registered item is one that needs a signature from the recipient. The box was slightly smaller than one that could hold a football helmet, so I could fit it in my bag.

Again, as I walked the cul de sac, I noticed the lack of annoying, but happy, barking. As I approached their house, I reached into my bag to get the parcel out. As I stood at their door, I started to write up the parcel, and this was the first time I'd noticed who the sender was.

As the woman of the house opened the door, I asked her if this box that needed to be signed for contained what, or who, I thought it did, as it was from a local pet mortuary. She wistfully confirmed my suspicions. You see, the Registered parcel I was delivering to her contained the ashes of the recently deceased "Cujo". I offered my condolences, and as I walked back to my truck, I turned the volume down a little on my Walkman.


Blog Post Soundtrack: watching/listening to the Rangers lose to the Sharks