---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===-- Note: The file below may have several references to old addresses for the //Skyway\\. The new, correct addresses are: ** Skyway listserver: majordomo@novia.net ** Skyway submissions, to write to Matt: skyway@novia.net --==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==-- / // The \kyway \\ / Spring 1995 -- Issue #27 April 8th, 1995 (c) 1995 Bastards of Young (BOY/BetaOmegaYamma) Productions --==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==-- ** Subscriptions, comments, contributions, anything you want to read: ** --> skyway@phoenix.creighton.edu <-- ** Manager: ** i261%nemomus@academic.nemostate.edu (Matthew Tomich) --==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==-- The manager of this list, Matthew Tomich, and the school's facilities that this list is produced from, Creighton University of Omaha, Nebraska, are not responsible for the contents of the following mailing except for that which they themselves have originally contributed. --==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==-- SEND ALL COMMANDS IN THE BODY OF A LETTER TO: "lists@phoenix.creighton.edu" ** To subscribe to the //Skyway\\: subscribe skyway ** To unsubscribe from the //Skyway\\: unsubscribe skyway * To get a listing of //Skyway\\ files available: index skyway * To get a description of available files: get skyway !readme * To get a file: get skyway ---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===---===-- Date: Sat, 08 Apr 95 12:34:21 CST From: "M@" WAITRESS IN THE SKY Three more weeks plus the onslaught of finals left in my senior year and essentially my undergraduate college career. Hey, I remember reading somewhere that this university had an anti-hazing policy...apparently the graduation office is wholly exempt from such a silly idea! (Then again, it just wouldn't feel offical without all the red tape.) Around May 20th, I'll be leaving for Costa Rica and will be returning sometime in July. I'll drop a memo before then letting you know what's going to happen in the meanwhile. I'll be leaving from NEW ORLEANS and plan to spend a few days there, so if anybody out there is from Gumbo City, drop me a line...we'll get together, hang out, trade tapes, and look around for Jay Farrar! ---> IF YOUR E-MAIL ACCOUNT IS NOT GOING TO BE ACTIVE THIS SUMMER... Please unsubscribe from the Skyway before you leave! Just write a letter saying "unsubscribe skyway-l" to "lists@phoenix.creighton.edu". We'll still be around when you come back in the fall and everything you missed will be available either from the list server or the gopher. London was pretty neato...there was an interesting point where we found ourselves stranded at Gatwick Airport with what threatened to be a week-long delay to get onto our standby flight back to the States. We had about five bucks between the both of us in English money since we'd re-exchanged all our pounds...so we bum-hitched a train back to London that, according to a guy who worked at the coffee shop in the airport, almost never had a pay-conductor. However that hapless Sunday night must've been the exception. The guy either believed our feigned ignorance or was happy with the #2.80 that we shucked off to him when we claimed to be utterly clueless Americans who weren't familiar with the system. That tense event left us penniless and with the threat of extradition out of the country...and without a penny in our pockets to take the tube from Victoria Station. So we had to scrounge for cash from the locals, which we were lucky enough to have a lesson in thanks to a copy of "Wir Kinder von Bahnhof Zoo" that we had in our possession. Eventually, somehow, we made it on the plane back home... The most intruiging thing about London was the local's unwritten social mores. There seemed to be five strict rules for London-ers: 1) Even though you're always in a hurry, never ever ever wear tennis shoes! Doc Martens, clogs, boots...anything with a raised heel that even slightly reeks of some sort of trendiseta cultural subgroup. Never mind that it's not easy to hop fast enough across the motorway out of the path of a screaming, unsympathetic lorry...better to be found dead wearing your Geelanders than a pair of Reebok cross-trainers (never mind that they're made in the UK anyway.) 2) Black, black, black! It goes with everything. Black with blue. Black with brown. Black with black. Black shoes. Black coats. Black leggings. And if you can't wear it black, well for God's sake, wear it dark! Fall and winter fashions are for anytime of the year. Please avoid anything vibrant and above a wavelength of 450 nanometers unless you want to look like a stupid enthusiatic Yank tourist. (Exception: you can wear yellow, just as long as its yellow ochre...that Grey Poupon mustard color that is reimiscent of decaying leaves.) 3) Don't smile. Leave that to those drug-crazed ravers from Manchester. 4) Don't let anybody know where you're going. Don't let anybody know who you are. When on the tube train, don't look at anything intently except the spinning reels on your walkman, your black shoes, or the opposing wall. (You can smile, but only if you're from Italy.) 5) When dancing, use only your arms. Look like you're swimming through Jello. Don't use your feet. (You can't anyway...you'll scruff up your dressy pair of Docs, remember?) Anyways, sorry for the month wait since the last issue. Once I get the 'education monkey' off my back, my life will hopefully become my own. (Then again, that's until it is replaced by the even more unforgiving 'career-climbing monkey'. Please send information about any alternate lifestyle paths that don't embrace abject poverty or ennui.) After I get back from Costa Rica, I'm still planning to emigrate to the Triangle area of North Carolina...so if you're from the area, I'd love to hear from you and any advice or impressions that you can give! Also when I return, I'll be making a Skyway WWW page...(finally!) Also, before I forget, there's reportedly an "alt.music.replacements" newsgroup on NEWS. I haven't had the chance to check it out yet, but it's great to see that there was enough public outcry to get one! See yah after finals! -- M@ -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 1 Mar 1995 12:57:22 -0500 From: hlc2@psu.edu Subject: Everybody at your party ... Hi, Matt and Matsheads ... I'll probably get shit for saying so, but in response to the following from Briber8: >With the release of "I'll Be You" I had thought that this was it, >the Replacments are going to be the big stars they deserved to be [...] I didn't want The Mats to be big stars. I hated seeing "I'll Be You" being played on eMpTV. I hated hearing it on commercial radio. I hated walking into a bar and hearing bands covering it. (I was the idiot who could be heard yelling "They have six other RECORDS, ya know!", from the back of the bar.) I didn't want to share my best friends with a gajillion other people. Like someone said, The Mats and their fans are a family ... probably the drunkenest, most dysfunctional family in the universe, but we're family, and it gives me a feeling I'll never get from my "real" family. Personally, I'm glad I never had to watch it all become bastardized by the masses. BTW, does anyone else think _Friday Night ..._ has had a better shelflife than _14 Songs_? Just curious. "Label wants a hit, and we don't give a shit ... " Heather -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 01 Mar 1995 07:58:46 EST From: fine@saturn.rowan.edu Subject: causes While all the thoughts and sentiments on Bob were nice, let us not lose sight of WHO exactly wrote the songs...and let us also remember that 1986 was a confusing time for Paul as he was torn with the idea of "making it" and trying not to listen too much to the "powers that be"...also a good source tells me that one Paul Westerberg was indeed at the funeral and he appeared to be talking to (of all people) Chris!!! "and if you're in the Crown tonight have a drink on me..." Evangeline -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Fri, 03 Mar 1995 00:39:16 -0400 (EDT) From: BRUNERMP@udavxb.oca.udayton.edu Subject: Life Replaced Life Replaced: I just thought of that now. It's not very smart but, .... oh well. I'm not that intelligent. Anyway, I love the replacements (for some reason I don't like capitalizing that). God, I love the replacements. I've been receiving the Skyway thingy for about four months now and I haven't yet written in. I'm not really sure why. I guess it's because I never saw the mats live and don't have many stories, etc. But that doesn't mean I haven't felt the way I'm sure a lot of you do. You see, tonight I was going to write my old girlfriend, but see hasn't yet responded (re:) to my last letter. It makes me feel like I'm a moron when I write someone twice before they write me once, so I guess this is as good a time as any to write in to the skyway. I am a junior at the University of Dayton and, what conventional wisdon calls, depressive. Or, rather, a person with some pretty ridiculous mood swings. I have been drinking heavily tonight and listening to replacements mood songs. I'll tell you my 'mats story but first I just want to put into context. Through high school I tried to be as social as possible. Despite that I spent a manjority of nights in my bedroon, pounding away on my Brother word processor and listening to music. Now, in college, I do much the same, except I don't have parents to bitch at me. I write, I listen, I drink. Also, I do a "spoken word" radio show on our campus station that is, essentially, an outlet for all the stuff I think and write about people I love/hate. That show is essentially my big artistic achievement. When I go to parties there is risk. I was a late bloomer. I bought All Shook Down when it came out for god knows why. I just bought it. It wasn't long (though not immediately) until I loved it more than my right hand. I had found what I had always thought music should be: an expression about life concerning the feeling that, no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't put your finger on. Paul Westerberg became the closest thing I had to an idol. This was, in case you are wondering, before I had heard _anything_ about the 'mats reputation, live shows, etc. I grew into the replacements, unfortunately a few years too late. In high school, about a month after I bought All..., I remember sitting in the library with two of my friends trying to convince either one of them to go see the replacements with me. They never heard of them and weren't interested. I never went to that show at the Cleveland Agora, their last blow through Cleveland. Oh well. College came, and is still here. On the Friday Night.. tour I went and saw Bash and Pop. Frankly, the show wasn't very good. Tommy had just rearranged his band and the show just didn't click, but the feeling still came through. After the show, while I was heading towards the car, Tommy walked out of the club and glanced at me with that "excuse me" look. I was kind of awe struck and more than a little nervous. I ran up from behind and introduced myself and he signed and shook my hand and bullshitted for a second or two. When He turned and walked away (he was drunk) he stumbled in the gravel parking lot and almost fell over. Later that summer I arrived at Peabody's Down Under about six hours early for the Paul W. show. I was nervous. I had sworn to myself that I would meet him, as if I had some deep, penetrating, philosophical thing to say to him. Anyhow, the bus pulled up, Paul got out sucking on a cigarette and went directly inside for the soundcheck. I listened to it (Color Me Impressed with a lot of different lyrics, some song about "Here's a little picture, Here's a little _da da da da da_?") I stood outside by myself for quite a long time when Paul walked out towards his bus. Songs bombarded my head. Thoughts of nights on top of backstops singing 'mats songs. I was nervous. But I said "Hey" and he was very nice. He stopped to sign an autograph and a quick picture and went inside the bus. The show was, even to a friend who was not much of a fan, incredible. At Peabody's they have a 'pizza window' that serves food to the inside and outside of the club. Let's just say that by the end of the show the pizza window people--the same people that drive Camaro's with fuzzy dice--were out watching. The change from beginning to end of the show was concrete, the air was different. He played like he meant it. For all the "Paul is an asshole stories" I had heard, he made up for it all that night. It was the best show I've ever seen. (Although I am admittedly biased.) Eventually I saw him in Cincinnatti, but that show was very routine. The crowd enjoyed it, the sound was fine, the band played well, but it lacked something. Anyhow, like I was saying back at the beginning of this thing, I love the replacements. I really appreciate the lyrics everyone has posted; it's odd--I've always had my own lyrics in my head--and now I'm hearing somethings in a different light. Also, I am saddened by Bob's death. I always felt sorry for him. Now I identify with him. Thanks to all who submitted stories about him and thaks to whoever wrote about attending his wake and funeral--you almost made me cry. Sometimes I wish the world would just stop, if only for a second, to recognize people like Bob. Unfortunately, life goes on. I apologize for my spelling mistakes; my fingers are tired. Thanks to Matt and everyone who contributes--it makes my week when the skyway comes. And, finally, I'm glad there's a group of replacement fans to write to becuase I know if I wrote to my ex-girlfriend she just wouldn't understand. Thanks, Mike Bruner Also, is there anyone out there that could make me a tape of live-demo-etc. replacements songs? I am more than willing to get you a tape and pay you for your time. I basically have all the 'released' stuff, none of the demo's or even the 'shit hits the fans stuff.' If you can help me out I would _really_ appreciate it. Just email me and let me know. Thank you very much. Mike Bruner: brunermp@udavxb.oca.udayton.edu "Rip out the table need room to move...." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Fri, 3 Mar 95 14:52:00 -0500 From: Brendon Macaraeg Hi folks: This is my first post to the Skyway mailing list. Been a fan since high school when "Let It Be" came out. What's the word on Paul's next album? Anway, I'm an assistant sysop for SPINonline on AOL and a college student asked me to decipher the lyrics to "Black Eyed Susan"; it's one of my favorite tunes off of "14 Songs"--I love the off-the-cuff feel of it. P.S. I have a Paul Westerberg/Mats home page at: http://www.itp.tsoa.nyu.edu/~student/brendonm/replpaul.html. It has an essay I wrote and some images and a Mats discography plus lyrics...I'll add more in the future. It's part of larger zine I have called DREAMPOP. ================================================= Brendon Macaraeg I_ID C O F F E E~A C H I E V E R~ I_ID bqm1808@is.nyu.edu brendon355@aol.com http://www.itp.tsoa.nyu.edu/~student/brendonm/bmmhp.html "A witty phrase is forthcoming soon in this space." ================================================= -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Fri, 03 Mar 1995 19:43:47 -0500 (CDT) From: ALLENSM@dlu.edu Was anyone watching 120 Minutes a couple years ago when the host person was talking to the GooGooDolls. The host person was the guy who replaced the guy with the accent. The surfer dude that leaves for a while to let bands and other musician types to host because they actually know what they're talking about. Anyway, he said that in Alex Chilton, Paul sings "I never travel far without the GooGooDolls." I don't have to tell a bunch of Mats fans what the real lyrics are. My point is, that host person is a sucking dork and MTV sucks right along with him. That's my little soap box or whatever. I was just reading some recent letters that mentioned Rep refeferences and stuff and I had to share that. Thank you for reading. "Scotty"-Scott Allen ps Someone told me that Chris Mars' guitarist has an E-mail address. Can some- one please reprint that? By-the-way, does the fact that Mars has a guitarist mean that he's getting more serious about his music and might tour or something? I read in Pulse that his next is coming in April. Also, isn't Slim supposed to have another coming soon? [ Reportedly, there are promotional copies out of Chris's new album. Slim is supposed to have an album out that was ready in December but the record copy wanted to wait until the Spring... - M@ ] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: 14 Mar 1995 00:42:45 GMT From: Bill Wilner Can anyone help me get back in touch with Rich from Baton Rouge, LA? I got a little (!) disorganized and may owe him some dubs of live tapes. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 15 Mar 1995 10:20:40 -0500 From: Chip Duffey I've subscribed to Skyway for about a year without submitting anything. But now, as these sweet Georgia breezes smell of spring, it's a good a time as any to say howdy. I don't have any wonderful close encounters, but I, like so many others who enjoy this publication, took a lot from The Replacements. I first read about them in 1984. An article in a undistinguished rock mag, of which I can't remember the name (maybe it was BAM, anyone remember that?), lauded them as these drunken road warriors, out to have fun, play covers and occassionally smack you upside the head with the most riveting dose of brilliant original music you ever heard. Okay, I'm paraphrasing. But one cover that the writer definitely mentioned, Kiss' "Black Diamond," peaked my interest enough to check out "Let it Be," only because I grew up listening to Kiss and Ted Nugent and many other seventies stalwarts that I don't dare mention. Well, I never looked back. I had been home from school for the summer and when I returned to LaGrange College (Georgia), eager to share my new discovery, it turned out one of my best college buddies had stumbled on them too. Luckily, The Replacements were soon due to play in Atlanta, at the now-defunct 688 club. We fueled up and headed north. I'm so glad we did, as it is turned out to be my one chance to see the original band, with Bob, God rest his soul, in all their raging glory. They didn't seem all that drunk, were pretty short on covers, but long on riveting rock 'n' roll. It was a blast. I later saw them I think four or five times with Slim slinging guitar, all great shows. Once, in Athens, Paul even hurled himself into the crowd after a beer-throwing rowdy. Anyway, my only endearing story takes place in Auburn, Alabama, where I had gone to visit another friend. The Replacements were about a month away from playing in Auburn at that time (1986 or 1987). Having just bought tickets for this show, we proceeded to get completely out of our heads, trading our familiar Bud Light for a rare, ill-advised experiment with Vodka and orange juice. I later told him I knew we were in trouble when the two containers revealed less Vodka than orange juice, and not much of either. A free form call-in show on WEGL, the campus radio station, crackled from the stereo. I, seizing the moment and the phone, proceeded to call and rave passionately about The Replacements and the upcoming concert for about five uninterrrupted minutes. I think the deejays were too taken aback to say anything. I'm glad we were too drunk to tape the whole ugly thing, as it would surely still embarrass me now. It turns out Paul would break his hand and cancel the entire Auburn gig, so I'll never know if my empassioned sales pitch would have translated to a packed house of screaming Mats fans. Oh well. My one moment of glory remains shattered like Paul's hand. I can only hope those radio waves transmitted far into space, where some really eager aliens are zipping around, still searching for a rockin' Replacements gig. Later that night, by the way, I was so out of sorts that I mistakenly walked into the wrong apartment and sat around for about five minutes before realizing my mistake. So at least I wasn't shot at by a Young Republican. Man...college. Thanks for this publication. You're all my favorite thing. My most memorable live moment? The band opening with The Marines Hymn in Atlanta one year. "From the halls of Montezuma, to the shores of Tripoli..." Great stuff. --Chip Duffey -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 15 Mar 1995 15:00:59 -0500 (EST) From: Bill Reiser Subject: Greetings from Nike Park Good morning to all, great to be aboard. I'll take the introductory note seriously, or as seriously as you're gonna get out of me at 8:20, to work the room for a few minutes and try not to dribble my drink on my tie... Since pulling my jalopy onto the dreaded Information Superyouknowwhat, I've been looking all over the place for a list Much Like This, which I hope explains all of those futile attempts to subscribe I fear you've all been seeing if they've been going out to the whole bunch of you. So sorry. Blew my mind that ABBA has fourteen listserv-type deals going and I couldn't locate one that was even halfway Replacements-related. Until now. The temptation here, of course, is to preach to the converted, but I'll try to be good. World cracked open for me when Let It Be entered my existence, hooked ever since. Replacements stuff kept Springsteen music from serving as the soundtrack to the second part of my life--not that there's anything wrong with that--shows kept me out on the road in places I thought I'd never see, and the variety of post-split projects threatens to bend the shelves of my New Yankee Workshop CD rack. Stuff I can't do in relation to joining the party: I'm not a treasure trove of bootlegs (but I'm not opposed to possessing them); I'm not an insider, bearing arcane knowledge of Westerberg's dining habits (although I did see Chris Mars walking out of a health food restaurant while conventioneering in the Twin Cities last September); and I'm not gonna tie up your memory wondering out loud what kind of car anybody drives (my worst case example from another music list I haunt that shall remain nameless). I just dig these guys a lot and look forward to (touchy-feely alert) sharing with like-minded types. And, most importantly, I just have to get a definitive answer to the question peppering my vital organs with holes: What does (I think it's) Tommy say during the break in "Talent Show"? My best guess: "All you ever wear is them/red pants..." Ready, willing, and able to stand corrected, Bill Reiser breiser@monroe.lib.mi.us -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Fri, 17 Mar 95 18:11:45 EST From: cford@VNET.IBM.COM Subject: WWW The following was found on alt.music.replacements and may be of use... An NYU student has put up a WWW page dedicated to Paul and the 'Mats. HTTP://www.itp.tsoa.nyu.edu:80/Œstudent/brendonm/bands.html Charles -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Fri, 17 Mar 1995 21:14:38 AST From: CHARLES LEBLANC <001981L@axe.acadiau.ca> to my long lost replacements buddy (dee-dee gallant): write me if your a member long live the mats, chuck -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Tue, 21 Mar 1995 20:19:06 -0500 (EST) From: "Michael C. Shannon" Subject: It Came From Memphis this might be a little off the topic of the band, but i decided i had to tell y'all about it. i just picked up a book called "It Came From Memphis". it's about memphis music, but it doesn't center on elvis or otis redding. it talks about alex chilton, furry lewis, and jim dickinson, among others. check it out if you have a chance. casey -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Tue, 4 Apr 95 13:59:52 -0500 From: KLEINHANS Subject: use of "Unsatisfied" in shitty movie I noticed that you were talking about 'Mats songs in movies and TV and I just wanted to add the use of "Unsatisfied" to your list. If you can believe it, it was the shitty movie "Airheads"--a movie that Joe Mantegna will rue for the rest of his life. This was used in a part of the movie where Brendan Frasier throws a hissy-fit 'cuz things don't go his was. I was so unsatisfied when I heard Paul in the background that I threw my empty Little Hug (You know, those plastic Kool-Aid barrels) at the TV. What's the deal? Is the song all-of-a-sudden public domain or did someone (I really don't want to point fingers) go out for a fast buck? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 05 Apr 1995 23:29:49 -0700 (PDT) From: HANSONJ@cgs.edu Subject: A Perfect evening -- rather, an evening with Perfect Matt-- I saw Tommy Stinson's new band (Perfect) at the Dragonfly in Hollywood on March 31. It was an interesting experience. First off, the band was pretty damn good. On first listen, I think that I prefer them to Bash and Pop. Unfortunately, some asshole running the lights ("bastard," to quote Tommy) was feeling a bit too creative. He kept turning the stage lights out for a second or two at a time, then followed that with some annoying combination of reds, blues, and whatever the hell else. First Tommy pointed up to the lights as if to say, "Would you be so kind as to leave the lights on for the duration of the show, please?" Then the idiot kept up with his light show (thinking, I suppose, that I paid $10 to see some creative display of red-dark- blue-yellow-dark-dark-dark-blue-red-dark-yellow-yellow), which prompted Tommy to mutter between lines, "Keep the fucking lights on, bastard." Of course the loser was not to be shown up by some punk who thinks he's a big shot because he began playing bass at age 12 for perhaps the most influential American rock band ever. So Tommy, thinking that perhaps the clown was hard of hearing (in retrospect, I figure the guy simply had his head up his ass), repeated his earlier request upon completion of the song ("Keep the fucking lights on, bastard" -- that was his request, not the name of the song). Lo and behold, Flashing-Lights Boy kept up with his antics once the next song began. Tommy, in between lines, pleaded, "This is no time for fucking discipline." After more of the same, and after the completion of the song, Tommy leaned over to check some equipment, only to find it faulty. (At an earlier point in the show the microphone stand slid down to knee level, leading Tommy to play and sing from his knees for 20 seconds or so.) He then addressed the crowd: "By next week we'll make a few changes up here on the set, have a few laughs, and have it all worked out. I promise. Good night." Thus a fine show was cut short because of some asshole playing with his new toys. The set lasted about 45 minutes. I figure they quit about half way, for they had only played one Bash and Pop song and hadn't played "Satellite." Pity. Jeff Hanson -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: 08 Apr 95 10:05:37 EDT From: ken maffeo <73377.3716@compuserve.com> I would like to ask if anyone has any good Paul Westerberg live music. The only thing I have live is the World Class Fad import. It has Can't Hardly Wait, Left of the Dial and Another Planet. This is great stuff. I would like to buy videos of the Replacements and Paul's solo stuff. I believe I have all the released Replacements' music. A friend of mine has an autographed album of theirs. I'm trying to snivel it. [Ken -- try finding the CD bootleg of "Lucky's Revenge" around...it's a great show! (It's the other show at the Whiskey A-Go Go in LA, which is where the songs from the World Class Fad single were from...he played two nights, and the first is the CD single songs, and the second is preserved on the bootleg.) -- M@] -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 08 Mar 95 20:08:00 PST From: "Kottke, Bradley (G) HISTORY" Subject: Bob's obit in LA Weekly This appeared in the March 3-9, 1995 issue of L.A. Weekly: Bob Stinson, 1959-1995 Word trickled out late last week that former Replacements guitarist Bob Stinson, 35, was found dead in his Minneapolis apartment on February 18. Local papers suggested that Stinson's long-standing problem with drugs and alcohol may have been a contributing factor. Unlike the widespread public dismay after the death of Kurt Cobain, this time America didn't really miss a beat. But to those who were in the indie-rock trenches in the early '80s, this one hurt. Bad. The Replacements, like contemporaries Husker Du, Soul Asylum, and R.E.M., were ours. And Stinson's death meant another nail in the coffin of a glorious period of rock music and of our youth. It was not necessarily Stinson's guitar playing that made him somehting special. Sure, his sound - equal parts thrash, '70s rock and malt liquor - helped define a band that, with the release of 1984's Let It Be, made critics frothingly declare Paul Westerberg the voice of a decade and the new soul of rock & roll. Bob Stinson was simply an okay guitarist in the right vehicle; what made him so extraordinary was his stage presence. On any given night, the Replacements were capable of being either the best or the worst band in America, and Bob was the barometer. His antics brought the runaway train to life. Remember Bob, oafish and sweaty over his Gibson, peeling off his tight whites onstage in San Diego, wearing that flowered dress in St. Louis or diapers in Philly, or chucking bread rolls at the crowd during an opening act in Orange County? And how about when he hurled his guitar clear over his head and stepped into some kind of contorted curtsy at the end of the Saturday Night Live performance, in front of what was surely their largest audience ever? The son of two alcoholics, Stinson seemed saved for the first time around 1980, when he plugged his guitar into a Marshall stack and took to the stage with his half brother Tommy, drummer Chris Mars, and Westerberg. Stinson's dismissal from the band in 1986, the result of substance abuse and increasingly minimal contribution, was a blow from which he never fully recovered. But we will forever thank Stinson for the memory of the Replacements live, the sweaty post-gig euphoria, the shit-eating grins, and the feeling that you had just witnessed the greatest bit of rock & roll to happen at that moment, anywhere, on the face of the Earth. (Neal Weiss) Reprinted without permission from LA Weekly -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Sun, 12 Mar 1995 21:17:51 -0600 (CST) From: Scott Hudson Alumni Matt, I know you've gotten tons of mail about Bob, but I thought you should have this article a friend of mine wrote for our little arts/ entertainment rag here in the middle of nowhere. I hope you enjoy it. Scott "So, take another pill from your purse. Take a little ride in a hearse. We're takin' a ride." --Paul Westerberg When I was a lad--Jesus, that sounds formal. Let me correct myself: when I was a boy, a kid, a pup, a runt, a punk, a know-it-all brat--pick your poison--I believed that when Terry Jacks sang "Seasons in the Sun" on the radio he was really in the studio with his guitar and his band, at KELO AM 1320 in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, singing exactly the same way, with the same inflections, each time he shouldered the axe for the listening public and belted out, "Goodbye, Michelle, it's hard to die, when all the birds are singing in the sky, and spring is everywhere. Too much wine and too much song, wonder how we got along." I lived in a small Minnesota town sixty miles away from Sioux Falls, directly east on I-90, the nation's corridor from coast to coast, and it never crossed my sense of logic that it was nigh on impossible for the national acts of the day--K.C. and The Sunshine Band, Wild Cherry, Sweet, KISS, Rod Stewart, ELO--to spend the majority of their time in South Dakota just so me and my friends, and people like us in other small towns scattered throughout the listening radius, could hear their tunes, and learn the lyrics, and sing along. From the mouths of babes . . . comes shit, pretty much, I guess. At least if I trust my memory, that's the case. I mean, if someone would come up to me now and say that all the bands on the radio come to their town and play live in the studio, I'd say they were bourgeois, and a particularly arrogant strain of bourgeois at that. Just because I was a kid doesn't make it cute. Don't tell me that it does. It was a stupid idea and I'm ashamed of it even in retrospect. The weird thing is, I can't remember how, or when, or where I learned otherwise, you know, that the people in the bands didn't come to my station everyday. You'd think it would be a defining moment--like graduation or marriage--and I'd use it as the framework through which I'd view the rest of my life. But I don't remember a thing. I suppose I must have figured it out piecemeal, learning about 45's and long playing record albums first, and then about television signals traveling through the air waves, and then backtracking to figure out that radio works the same way, assimilating it into my worldview the same way we all adjust to under arm, pubic, and facial hairs when they drop by to change our lives. My only choice after that was to consider the people in the bands the same way I considered movie stars--as grand, and inaccessible, and somehow better than the rest of us, just because. I put them on pedestals, and bought posters of them, and read books about them. They were as distant as the famous dead--Mozart, Napoleon, Shakespeare, Confucius, Jesus, Abe Lincoln, Moses, Plato, Joan of Arc. I went from a state of arrogance to one of idolatry, which isn't nearly as romantic as going from innocence to experience, but still implies a dynamic, that is, movement forward, changing, the way a caterpillar does into a butterfly, and that's the point of life, isn't it? Who wants to stand for sixty or seventy years in the same stagnant pool of coppery water in the bottom of an old tire that may never be moved, or noticed, for that matter, ever again? Not me. Which is why it's so cool to go through your early years, and then your mid-twenties, because that's when most of the stars are your age, or just a little bit older or younger, depending on the specific case. That's when stars become people just like you who got luckier. They're no better and no worse, just more fortunate. That's when people you know become famous, or you have friends who know famous people, or you meet famous people through this means or that and you realize, hey, they're common folk just like me. That's when everybody, regardless of their national or international stature, becomes someone who could've been your brother or sister or lover or best friend, and may yet become such. That's when you settle into a state of serendipitous appreciation, which is somewhere in between, yet beyond both arrogance and idolatry. And in my life, the ultimate example of such a transformation occurred a few months ago, on Saturday, November 19, 1994, when I saw Green Day play at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium in St. Paul, Minnesota. I had a backstage pass. If you didn't already know (as I didn't, then) the sound backstage sucks. Duh, the speakers are pointing out. And the view is kind of shitty, too--from the side and sort of behind the performers. It's the type of vantage point concert promoters usually call "Limited View," and they usually charge less for those areas, which are often behind a pillar. But if you've got a backstage pass, there ain't a soul in the who can tell you that it's anything but a privilege akin to knighthood. More than once the conversation backstage turned speculative: what--we wondered, we pondered--what do you think the spry, young moshing girls would pledge in trade for our passes? But, tempting though it may be, that isn't the story I want to tell. The story I'm interested in began about a quarter of the way into the show, when I looked over the wooden retaining wall that separated the backstage area from the floor of the auditorium, where the paying customers where massed together, and saw Bob Stinson, the founding lead guitarist for The Replacements. Whether it's true or not, I believe that without The Replacements there would never have been a Nirvana, or a Pearl Jam, or even a Green Day, or a thousand other bands--certainly not as we know them today. Paul Westerberg, The Replacements' lead singer and song writer, said it best when he said, "For every hundred people who saw us play, five of them formed bands." If you think I'm wrong, trace the roots of what has become rock n' roll the fashion, that is, the flannel shirts, the Converse high tops, and the uniforms from gas stations, electricians shops, plumbers shops, and the like. Pull out your dusty, vinyl, made in 1980 copy of The Replacements Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash, and look at the photos, and try telling me--without being struck by lightning--that what passes for 'alternative' today began anywhere else than with four obnoxious, drunk kids from Minneapolis. Seeing Bob at the Green Day show was about the fifth time I'd seen him in the past month. It seemed that everywhere I went, Bob went, too. Whatever band Bob wanted to see, I wanted to see. There he was at the Supersuckers. There he was at Trailer Trash. There he was, there he was, there he was. Bob has a reputation as a drunk and drug addict. No one seems to dispute it. Everybody but himself and his ex-wife claims that's why he was kicked out of the band in 1986. I had made jokes to my friends that I had better examine my way of living because it seemed like everywhere I went, Bob went, and for sure that was a sign that I was headed for the same miserable existence as him. I've never known anyone in the world who wanted to be like Bob. I sure didn't. It was weird, because the last band that I saw at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium was The Replacements, about six years ago, after Bob had been replaced, and though I still liked them, they sure weren't the same band as they were when Bob was playing lead, just like The Who weren't the same after Keith Moon died. And if I was asked the question of questions: Which version of the band would I take along with me to a desert island if I could only take one? I wouldn't hesitate to grab the early stuff, from Sorry Ma and Stink through Tim, Bob's last album with the band, even if it meant I had to listen to the vinyl rather than the CD's. Christ, I'd even take the early stuff on cassette tape, or eight track. There was Bob, mouthing the words that Billie Joe was singing on stage, and in between the two, like some watery chain link, was me. You see, a few months earlier, Billie Joe had told me all about his own love for The Replacements. He said they were the first punk concert he ever went to, when he was kid. He asked me to play a selection from Sorry Ma, but for the life of me I can't recall which one. I think we ended up playing several after we heard the one, anyway. The Replacements were an inspiration to Billie Joe, and there was Bob, a paid ticket holder, and me, with a backstage pass, and, boy, it sure seemed like it sure felt like it should've been the other way around. You know what I mean? And to fuck up the situation even more, during the course of this article, in which I was going to explore the multiple ironies of the situation, Bob died, right here in Minneapolis, in his apartment on Lake Street. So, now, everyone's been talking about what a genius he was, heroin and all. But I met Bob, once, and it was a letdown, because he was such an asshole that I felt the need to write a couple thousand words about it, none of them complimentary. During the course of the article, I realized that I liked Bob the Replacement, but not necessarily Bob the man. On the night I met him, he was probably deep into a heroin and Heineken high, so how can I hold his actions regarding a total stranger against him? I have not heard nor read a positive word about Bob in the last ten years, if ever. Now that he's dead, though, everyone's running around praising him. I saved a bunch of articles, but I had to leave town for the weekend and my sister recycled them. Can you believe that? I even stuck them under my case of returnable Grain Belt bottles where I thought they'd be safe, but no. They're all gone. If I remember correctly, there was one where Chris Mars said he broke down crying when he heard the news of Bob's death, and one where Peter Jesperson called Bob an 'insane genius,' and the one long interview where Westerberg had nothing but praise for the man he kicked out of the band. And the one that probably meant the most, which was Slim Dunlap's characterization of Bob. Slim is the guitarist who replaced Bob, and in a few words he described Bob as no less than a latter-day Hank Williams Sr., and you know, I think Slim is probably right. Hank Senior led a sad life and died a sad death at an early age, just like Bob. And they both left a musical legacy that far exceeds what you would expect from their few productive years on planet Earth. Let's face it: Bob's a legend, even though he'll never get credit for it, and that's why everybody did an about face when he died. Bob's passing should have been as world renown as the untimely deaths of Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison, Bon Scott, Sid Vicious, Keith Moon, John Lennon, and Kurt Cobain, but it wasn't, and that's why I was saving those articles, and that's why everybody who got interviewed said all those nice things. I mean, if I would have gotten up to speak at his memorial service, I would have said something nice, too. I would have said that even though I didn't know him, I know that Bob and me shared a taste in music, because I saw him at all the shows I went to, and if he would have asked me for beer money I would have given it to him. I would have said that I know Bob's sound was an inspiration for a ton of folks out there, including Billie Joe and Green Day, whose music Bob liked well enough to find a ticket to their sold out show. It's weird how things flip-flop like that in such a short time. The only thing left to say, I guess, is that life can't be all bad, because there's always the redemption you get, here, after you're dead and gone. If you have friends or family, despite what you may have done or the type of life you may have lived, they're going to say good things about you--they're gonna want other people to hear what they have to say--and they're probably gonna cry a lot, too. Even if you've been the most cruel and despicable person ever to walk upright, with no friends or relatives, you can bet that there'll be a priest or a gravedigger who'll take the time to think well of you. And a thought is sure as hell as good a dozen words. Though I didn't go to the funeral, I wrote the nice stuff I've said here. I thought sincerely about going to the funeral, but I decided against it. Sure, I was a fan, and I still am, but in my mind, that doesn't give me much right to go to somebody's funeral. I want to say that you really shouldn't go to anyone's funeral if you haven't called them in the last six months, but that would make for some empty chapels. There are too many people I know who I haven't called in the last six months whose funerals I wouldn't miss for the world. My guess is that Paul and Chris and maybe even Tommy hadn't had a word with Bob since a lot longer than six months ago. Maybe the criteria should be that you shouldn't go to someone's funeral unless you've had a serious and good thought about them in the past year. Considering that we're human, I'm not sure we can expect much more. Anyway, I decided not to go to Bob's funeral because it seemed like the right thing to do. If I want to honor him, I can throw a party and play songs by all the bands Bob and I have seen together, and some of the old Replacements tunes, and some other stuff that I know he'd like, and make sure that the beer is free and plentiful. Somehow I think he'd appreciate that more. I wonder if he had the chance to look down at his own funeral, and I wonder if he laughed. I don't know. Seeing the whole thing unfold as it has--Bob's life, my encounters with his life, and Bob's death--I can't help but think that we all have this guardian angel that can't earn its wings until it bears us posthumous praise. It's the only explanation that seems to make any sense. And though it's more spiritual than my usual leanings, I can't get over what a cool thought it is. You know? Take care, Scott -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 1 Mar 95 13:04:03 EST From: cford@VNET.IBM.COM Subject: "Hootenanny"/Village Voice In the last SKYWAY I asked if anybody else has been mislead into thinking that the Mats "Hootenanny" release had won a Village Voice record of the year poll back in '84(?). Anyway, I think I found at least one source of this confusion. While rummaging through some old Replacements stories I found an 8/84 article from Creem Magazine. The following statement regarding "Hootenanny" is an excerpt: "...It won enough fans in the nation's press to crack the Village Voice's annual critics poll as one of the top LPs of '83." If you read that real fast you *might* assume (as I did) that this LP did exceeding well in the poll. However, in truth the author probably should have said "barely crack." I guess at the time of this article, any showing at all in a poll was considered a big accomplishment. Charles Ford -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Thu, 2 Mar 1995 10:09:49 PST From: Mccarthy.wbst311@xerox.com Subject: Re: "Hootenanny"/Village Voice >I read *somewhere* (I think even more than one place) that "Hootenanny" had >at least placed prominantly in this poll, but for the life of me I can't >remember where I read it. Clearly, since Bob has the poll in hand, the >Skyway intro message must contain mis-information. Has anybody else been >mislead into thinking that this release had won a Village Voice poll? I think >this rumour has been flying around for some time.. Actually, I DON'T have the issue in hand (it was destroyed, along with a zillion other magazines in the great McCarthy basement flood of 1990), but I remember 1983 - Micheal Jackson #1, R.E.M. #2. _Hootenanny_ was probably in the top 40, but I don't think it made top ten. Like I said, there's a very good chance _Stink_ finished tops in the EP poll in 1982 although that was also the year of REM's _Chronic Town_, and T. Bone Burnett's _Trap Door_, so maybe not. If it's any consolation, _Let It Be_ did VERY well in 1984, top 5 for sure (Springsteen's _Born In The USA_, and Prince's _Purple Rain_ were ther other biggies that year), and I think _Tim_ was either #2 or #3 in 1985. Pretty sure every Replacements record finished in the top 40. A little research at a decent library could clear this up. I'll see what I can find at the big Rochester library. Bob mccarthy.wbst311@xerox.com -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Wed, 1 Mar 95 12:45:37 CST From: Teddie James-CSIC_Publications Subject: Mats tribute/Mats-sounding bands Someone mentioned how they'd like to see a Bob Stinson tribute. Well, over the past few months, I've been putting together a Replacements tribute tape. So far, I've gotten a bit of interest as well as some nice cover songs. Right now, there is no deadline, but I do hope that the people who promised me songs will send them soon. Basically, I want your band to cover as many Replacements and solo songs as you want. It doesn't matter if someone else is covering a particular song that you want. It'll be fun to hear two different interpretations. Cover the song in your own band's style to make it unique. Quality doesn't matter. I'll take everything from a jam box recording on up to a fullblown studio recording. Anything is welcome, and nothing is sacred. In addition to the above, I am also putting together a tape of "professional" bands covering Mats songs. The Crash Test Dummies doing "Androgynous" is a good example. Anything from a bootleg version of a cover to a studio version is welcome. Also, tribute songs such as They Might Be Giants "We're the Replacements" are welcome. Let me know if you have any songs to offer or any ideas regarding the tribute. I also need ideas for cover art. By the way, I'm calling this tribute "Talent Show." It seems fitting. I just heard of an Athens, GA, Replacements tribute album that's in the works. It's supposed to feature Athens bands such as the Woggles and Five-Eight. Any news? Regarding the Liquor Giants and other supposedly Replacements- influenced bands, check out Austin's Solid Goldsteins. They blend the sounds of '60's-era Stones with Tim-era Mats and early New York Dolls. Some of their songs remind me more of a rawer Don't Tell A Soul, mainly the melodies and country guitar leads. One song is reminiscent of Slim's songs about always being the opening band. These guys aren't clones, but they are quick to point out their influences. It's funny, though, that they don't play any Replacements tunes. Ted James tedj@oakhill-csic.sps.mot.com Date: Mon, 13 Mar 95 15:55:08 CST From: Teddie James-CSIC_Publications Subject: Replacements tribute By now, you all know about my planned Replacements tribute. Well, I just found out about one that's already in the works. I got the following from a friend of mine in Athens, GA. > I finally asked Manfred, my friend in the Woggles, about it today. He > tells me that the title is "Sorry Ma, I Forgot to Take out the Cat," a play > on the Replacements' first album title, substituting "cat" for "trash" > because it is a benefit for the Athens animal shelter. Bands include the > Woggles, LaBrea Stompers, and some other low-budget Athens groups. The > Woggles' cut is "Montague Gets his Pancreas Out," reworking a Replacements' > cut titled something like "Tommy Gets his Tonsils Out." Manfred said the > album was originally supposed to come out in March on CD and vinyl, but > he's now expecting May (in which case he wishes they'd wait until fall when > the students will be back in town) and CD only. I'm still planning to release my tribute when I get enough songs. It'll be interesting to see what comes out of both of these. Ted James tedj@oakhill-csic.sps.mot.com -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [ This is a bit of a sticky string of messages here. - M@ ] From: MX%"mansonls@netcom.com" 2-MAR-1995 13:28 Subj: Stinson Memorial Fund I was asked to post this: Many people have requested information regarding a memorial fund for Bab Stinson. A memorial fund has been set up primarily to offset funeral costs and to benefit Bob's family, namely his son Joey. Contributions can be sent c/o Anita Stinson Kurth at 3204 22nd Ave. S., Minneapolis, MN 55407. One of many tribute concerts has been tentatively scheduled on March 23, at the First Ave. in Minneapolis. No bands have been announced yet. Call the club at 612-338-8388 for info. At the suggestions of Bob's mother Anita, plans are being developed to set up counseling center that will assist artists, musicians and others who have problems and are unable to find help through regular channels. In the near future and Art & Object Auction will be arranged to benefit the counseling center's development. To contribute any items, assistance or further information call Sunshine at Fiasco records at 612-379-1485. End of message, Les Subj: Message From Tommy Stinson Date: 95-03-14 02:10:23 EST Two days after my brother Bob's funeral service came word of a so-called "Bob Stinson Memorial Fund." It has been said (at different times) that this fund will offset funeral costs, support Bob's child, plant a tree and even start a counceling center!!! People that we don't even know (nor trust) have been soliciting money and art/objects on our family's behalf for this "Memorial Fund." My family and I appreciate and respect the fact that everyone has their own way of grieving and that being active and keeping busy with these kind of projects are some of these ways. However, the aforementioned people have run amok and have taken liberties that they had no right to take (dropping the family name every step of the way.) Trying to do "damage control" on this front has disrupted our grieving process. This we don't appreciate. AT THIS TIME THERE IS NO OFFICIAL "BOB STINSON MEMORIAL FUND." I will let you know if and when one is established. Please do not send money to my mother, nor art/objects to anyone else. If you would like to do something in Bob's honor, a random act of kindness or telling someone that you haven't told in a while that you love them would be more appropriate. Believe it or not, Bob did both of these things - quite often. I think that aside from his guitar playing, these are things he would like to be remembered for. Thank you for your understanding, Tommy Stinson Date: Tue, 14 Mar 1995 14:05:43 -0500 From: MSCarleen@aol.com RE:Tommy Stinson Amok In order to clarify for those of you that peruse this folder. My name is Carleen Stinson. Bob was my husband and the father of our son, Joey. Bob, after our marriage ended, was still my closest confidant and friend. We were active in each other's lives. The love, caring, and sharing will never end. Bob's son will never have to live in the shadows that surrounded his life, if it's the last thing I do, and I'm talking about the truth behind the glory and pain here. I feel that in light of the recent surge of postings from LA, that perhaps those who aren't in Minneapolis, cannot grasp how difficult it is to have to drive by Bob's old apartment, our old place, the place we use to go, the places he used to go, see the people we use to see, and have to deal with the reality that Bob is no longer here to share these things with us. I find it hard to believe that the postings state Paul is taking 6 months off to deal with his pain, (that's good)! and the next posting is commenting on the rise of Tommy's new project at the end of THIS MONTH? God, I still have to figure out how to get psyched up to even get out of bed, let alone try to concentrate on a "job". I suppose some people bounce back faster then others. It must also be mentioned that Bob is no longer here to deal with the politics of the industry, the name smearing. (How many articles have you read about the other Mat's close-personal agendas? How many have you read about Bob's?) The finding out as to who or what controlled the entire resources that Bob proportionally generated while an active Mat and beyond was a duty he could never achieve while alive. And I ultimately feel that these are factors that lead to his early, untimely death. And in his dying, the politics of his world have now become a real part of my world. In response to the recent posting, supposedly by Tommy Stinson...(I say "supposedly" because the facts are being distorted with the ease of one who is either press or thinks that they have the power of distorting the facts to suit their own personal gains.) If this was Tommy Stinson, certainly he would be in harmony with the wishes of the family. Certainly, he would not have wanted a private matter dealt with in this manner, in this forum, in this space, using the family name in support of those views, that happen to NOT be entirely the views of the Stinson family, ourselves. I fear that someday I'll be reading a post from Bob himself, NOT!. Here's the way it was supposed to be, however prematurely released to the public.....Because Bob was not buried, there is no place to go and remember him. Like on his birthday, Christmas, etc. The plan was to have a tree with a memorial planted nearby where Bob loved to walk and talk and be himself. The "Tommy" letter refutes this as simply "a tree". Where the "Tommy Letter" states that there was money being "solicited" to support Bob's child. That is boarder lining on slander, defamation and beyond. The fact is that Bob's son, his only surviving heir to his meager estate, is on SSI due to being medically fragile and permanently disabled. Any amount of money that would normally go to a survivor cannot go directly to Bob's son as it would jeopardize his state paid 200,000 dollar a year medical allowance, which he readily consumes annually. Instead, Bob's estate and continuing money would have to be placed in a trust fund, for Bob's son to gain upon my death or until the age of 21, that no one would have access to utilize or fraudulently manipulate out of their own greed, ever. (Just to cite a couple instances.) The issues being addressed in this recent posting are adverse to the activities of the family. The family is acting with consolidation to assemble some form of recognition of Bob's life's work, and allowing other artists to honor Bob on the same scale, if they so chose, WHEN they are able to get past the pain and be able to join in and celebrate his life. (And not until then will not happen!) As opposed to squashing his memory and snuffing out his name from the annals of music lore. In closing, I dispute this "Tommy Letter" as being a legitimate source. Besides the fact that it is interfering with our process of closure, it makes an attempt to control, deviate attention, and maliciously manipulate the random acts of kindness that have already been displayed on Bob's behalf from fellow artists and friends that wish to honor Bob. Even "distant" relatives grieve in private while publicly carrying on the good spirit and character of the loved one that has passed on. They do not feel like partying it up on the "strip", or perusing the media to make strides at furthering themselves, by drawing attention to themselves, with every channel available in our current society. The person that wrote the "Tommy Letter" is misinformed, malicious, and acting without the consensus of the family. Those who knew Bob wish to honor this legendary figure in an appropriate and timely fashion because we choose to not ever forget him. And NOT because his death is a constant reminder that we are the failures and his memory is getting in the way of getting on with our lives. Though there may be more than one tribute, remembrance, or benefit for Bob's son...When that happens...I guarantee that you won't have to wait for Tommy Stinson's permission to be informed as to the activities and whereabouts thereof. I can tell you it will be an assembled, organized and unforgettable experience. In fact, it's not about money at all...if it were Bob himself wouldn't be able to afford to attend. Keep the spirit alive, throw rocks and walk naked through life, or wear lingerie...it's the only way to go! With gratitude for paying attention, Carleen Stinson -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- fin. --==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==-- || Matthew Tomich || <<>> || || 1111 S. Mulanix #207 || ----> skyway@phoenix.creighton.edu <---- || || Kirksville, Missouri 63501 ||(administrative, contribution, all purpose)|| || (816)-785-4808 ||--==--==--==--==--==-*-==--==--==--==--==--|| || "You are not what you own." || ** Non-Skyway address: ** || || /\\/\\/\ - Fugazi /\\/\\/\\ || i261%nemomus@academic.nemostate.edu || --==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==--==-- "I heard that you now gotta have a drug test to work at Wal Mart. I guess I ain't workin' at Wal-Mart!" - Overheard in the Ryle Hall cafeteria