It’s been a long time since I haven’t had a home of my own. Or at the very least a home to call my own. I’m no stranger to extensive travels, but as I write this, sat on an aeroplane jetting towards the City of Angels, this is the first time in my life that I don’t have a place to live, a lead on a place to live, or for that matter, a real care about where I’m going to live. About 10 days ago I decided to pluck my leaf from the stem of the big Apple and toss it into the swirling winds of 2020 and let the universe guide me in her jet stream.
Impulsive adventures are nothing new to me. I once headed to LAX just to drop a friend off and ended up on a flight to Sydney. Doing things on the spur of the moment is one of my great joys in life. But this time it’s different. This time I don’t have a home to go back to. I’m completely untethered. A drifter, you might even say. I gave up my apartment in the building I called home for the past 7 years, and put whatever belongings I didn’t gift to friends or even strangers into a sketchy storage facility in the Jersey shadows of the GW bridge and hopped on a plane.
The last time I was in my adopted second home of Los Angeles it was a two night stop in between a suicidal mental breakdown in Las Vegas and a mental health treatment center in Ocala Florida. This time I’m on my way to gather some belongings I had left scattered around the city and then continue on to Washington State to pick up my beloved Motorcycle which I had left for dead in the Spokane International Airport parking garage in September 2019. I’m gonna get back on that steel horse, a few changes of clothes and some camping gear strapped to the back, and pint my way towards a new adventure. Aside from a few friends I’m planning to visit in Idaho and Idaho and Colorado, I’ve got no idea where I’m going to end up, how I’m going to get there, or when. I guess I’ll just know I’m home when I feel like this is the place where I want to stop.
When I left this bike in Spokane I had been riding it all around the Great Western Frontier, looking for a place to die. This time, I’m looking for a place to LIVE!
Have you ever sat around thinking “man you know what would be Cool? An in-depth interview with my homie Jake about what makes his twisted fruit of a business brain tick?” If so then YOU’RE IN LUCK! Read it and weep. Thanks Relix!!
This week on the LIFE IN THE STOCKS PODCAST you’ll find a very special guest: THE JAKES!!! My old friend Matthew Stocks coaxed (dragged?) a lot of stuff out of me that I wasn’t really expecting to talk about. Beyond the fairly routine jibber jabber about my amazing life in rock n roll and the ceaselessly awe inspiring and intermingling episodes of international intrigue, adventure, and leisure we got down to the brass tacks of crippling depression, anxiety, abuse and all-encompassing suicidal urges. And how I ended up in the nut house for two months at the end of 2019. Tons of fun!!!! Seriously though, I wouldn’t have been able to choose a better bud to host my mental health quinceañera! Listen to it where ever you get your podcasts. In case, ya know, ya need a break from the regularly scheduled parade of police beatings and governmental and societal breakdowns on your normal feed.C
Summer’s here. Dress less. For less. Most shirts onsale for $18. One is $20. Why? Who knows. Who cares really? Is anything even real anymore? Im wearing a 6ix9ine mask. Come at me bro. Im going to apply for food stamps. Why not? The airlines get em. Or mug a hedge fund dude, if there are even any left in the city. Punch a banker in the face. All my heroes set police stations on fire. Fuckery abounds. Let’s all get naked. Peace!!!
***Police in Time Square approached the Musical Unicorns. After brief questioning and detainment, officials released the duo back into the deserted and dystopian dreamscape. Rock N Roll & hijinks ensued! And a police horse got pregnant. With twins, naturally.
Happy 31st Birthday and Mad Mad Valentines Day LOVE to my favorite music venue of all time. Over almost 10 years there I grew up, tuned in, turned on, dropped out and got fucked up. Usually all at the same time. There’s never gonna be another like you. And if you sprang up today, you probably wouldn’t last. There’s a time and a place for everything. And you were there for all of us at the exact time that we needed you in our universe. Limitless love to Larry and Laura Bloch, And Peter Shapiro, without whom so many of our collective memories and dreams would only exist in a parallel universe. And thank you My Sweet Lord for introducing me to my soul mate Rodney Speed.