London Calling
Now that war is declared-and battle come down
London calling to the underworld
Come out of the cupboard, all you boys and girls …
(Strummer/Jones)
And so we did. On so many levels.
It was the summer of 1982. At least the beginning of it. I had graduated from CW Post Center of Long Island University. I had already seen all three Asbury Park Clash shows and my friend Charlie Maraia (also a Post toasty) and I were about to embark on a month long trip to England and France.
Charlie and I were both photographers. Me having hot new photos of the Clash plus my other photos from Bonds and The Palladium shows, and Charlie had his more social documentary black and white portfolio. Our first week there would be a mix of business and pleasure.
Before it all started there was a ton of preparation to get ready. I went out and bought 40 rolls of Kodachrome. This was going to be the biggest trip of my life, thus far, and it certainly needed to be documented in all its Kodachrome glory.
If documentation was in order I also needed at least three new thin red journals and red Flair pens to go along. On some level I have to thank Dorothy for getting me into journaling. I had started journaling shortly after we met. It’s especially wild to look back on any of those journals so many years later. It sure helps to fill in some of my memory gaps, but also sometimes stirs up feeling I had long since put behind me.
I have to admit, that as I post excerpts from my journals, they will be heavily edited. Never adding unless [indicated] and way more “removal” than anything else. More to protect the innocent, and at times, the not so innocent. As verbose and telling as they were, sometimes they were just the rantings of a 20-something year old man-boy-child groping his way through the world in the process of “coming out of the cupboard” / closet … literally.
Thursday June 10, 1982 9:50 PM EDT
Transcribed and edited from my “little red book”.
Here we go again … Another book another look … at yet another chapter in this crazy mess … “Everybody is working for the
weekendvacation.” It’s only a week … yes 7 days away! Holy shit!! The preparations have already started.Let’s listen to singles! “Wipe Out” by the Surfaris. Sounds like the Ramones when they were tots & didn’t even know chords yet. What???
“Love Is Like A Heatwave” sounds soooo … good!!
“Crimson and Clover” … Fuck You Jett Girl … Jett Boy … this is the real thing – just like “the pause that refreshes.”
The weekend I got home from L.I. was The Clash Attack on Asbury Weekend. Things went well, met all kinds of new people … took many pictures of the Clash Boys – minus Topper. The little junkie blew the gig!!! He quit! [or got fired] Could be because of the heroin bust in London. Well … what more can be said … It’s Topper’s turn to cry.
Tory Crimes aka Terry Chimes took his place for this three day extravaganza. Charlie came with me the first night. We’ve known each other since the beginning of those back to school days, but never really hung out with each other until recently. Charlie came for the first night & missed the second & best show. How sad. We did have a blast though. He had trouble getting in but Cos came to the rescue, gave us a ticket to get in … we blew off the first band and went for a beer with Brenda – who we met at the door. We all walked the boards and Charlie took pictures of the “dejection twins” on the beach. Fucking long isn’t it?? I feel like shit and I’ve reached the end of my rope & my new old singles so it’s time to close.
Goodnight my love
Pleasant dreams tonight
Visions of London Calling …
Yet to come
I’m not quite sure where this is going. It’s a prelude to the main event. London. I think I needed to lay some groundwork, since I’ve told this story in bits an pieces throughout my Clash posts. I’ve started to scan the Kodachrome slides from this trip. It took us from London to Dover England, across the channel and from the north of France to the south and back again. Eventually spending our last week in Paris.
There are so many stories tied up in this trip. those journaled, and those not. It will take me some time to see if there needs to be a more compelling narrative. I think I’m doing this more to just show off the tons of photos documenting this “post punk” period in London and the trip in general
