Hardcore and in Bed by Eleven; Steve Romilar High

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Permalink Reply by Jon Nelson on April 15, 2008 at 4:03pm

I was the religious affairs editor of Tussin Up. Foreshadowing of years of moping around various spiritual scenes, always ready with some criticism. I've always regretted the fact that I showed up for his funeral in a coat and tie. It happened during one of my several failed attempts at respectability. Bleak fuckin' times is what they were. I'd really like to say hello to Debbie White. Does anybody know where she is? I had to pause and play Pictures of Matchstick Men a couple of times before I could write anything. I talked Steve into getting a haircut in 1979. He was a big jazz/rock fusion fan. I ended that in a hurry. Stream o' consciousness Stevie reminiscing. Jim Hurd used to give my funeral elegy, for practice, while I sat and listened. "Jon drank heavily." That's enough for now.

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Permalink Reply by BURD on May 11, 2008 at 4:47pm

My next Rockit's Blog will have something about Steve. Hard to write-remember-recall and repeat.

Random thoughts: Beer, entire tape of Louie Louie covers-Blue Cheer, doing ecstacy with a bunch of Serpents while Steve sits back smiling, Beer, Yellow Volkswagon bug, Steve making fun of my pleather pants, yelling at Ricky's canteena that the band sucks!-drinking pinex with him and Robbie and then puking my guts out while Steve chuckles, Impish sense of humor, stealing the tape deck at hippie parties-13 Floor Elevators and the Cynics-Steve telling me it would get better-"Hang in there" he said...

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Permalink Reply by Jon Nelson on May 13, 2008 at 10:28pm

I gave him the tape of louie louie covers. I was never the tape maker that Steve was, but we exchanged tapes often.

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Permalink Reply by CraiGrrr on May 18, 2008 at 12:35pm

One day I was, what, waiting on a bus? on the south side of town in front of Hook's. Steve came out, bearing a small paper bag. We knew each other, and had been uproariously messed up at the same parties together for awhile, but hadn't ever really hung out as friends much then. He recognized me (probably not hard to do in those days) and approached, sliding the bottle of Pinex out of the bag just enough to see the label. "This is the real shit," he says. If you will purchase us a Dr. Pepper out of that machine there, I'll share. It's gotta be Dr. Pepper, though." I purchased the soda, and Steve drank off enough of it to pour about half the bottle of Pinex in. "It's concentrated." He said. We sat there at the bus stop passing the can back and forth.
I don't remember much of the rest of that afternoon. I think we terrorized a bus route for awhile.

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Permalink Reply by Zac Burke on May 18, 2008 at 2:02pm

Hmmm, it's be cool if someone could put up the actual story from Tussin' ,"Hardcore and in Bed by Eleven." Inspired by Josh Martin living in my shanty(with his "coffin" room) at Shantytown.

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