I was asked to write a remembrance of my former husband, Howie Pyro, and I didn’t realize how therapeutic it would be for me. As I write, the pending anniversary of his passing May 4, 2022 has brought up so many overwhelming feelings. Howie’s illness and death is the heaviest thing I’ve ever been through and I suppose I have done a lot of mourning in public posting pictures and memories on Facebook. I was devastated that I couldn’t get to LA for his funeral– finances and work schedule prevented it but I was able to go back to my hometown, NYC, for the Memorial there. I thought I’d try to share some of the stories I told at that intimate event at Bowery Electric.
Howie Pyro was the love of my life, my soulmate. It's hard to write about a person when you've had such an intense relationship. It's difficult to put into words exactly the impact of the lightning bolts that shot out of his eyes the first time we met. It was like the heaviest deja vu I have ever experienced. So forgive my gushing as I try to write a remembrance of my dear departed onetime hubby. Cool. That is the number one word that comes to mind when I think of Howie. He was the cool little kid with the extended fork chopper banana seat bike. He was the coolest pre-teen with the most monster magazines. He was an actual teenage runaway who ventured to NYC and started his own punk rock band. He shared stages and drugs with his idols in the late 70s Max's Kansas City scene where his group The Blessed were the underage darlings.
Academy Award winner Martin Scorsese & David Tedeschi premiered their David Johansen documentary on Showtime this month. By Legs McNeil ©2023. It would be about 3:00 o’clock in the morning on the Bowery and I would’ve already spent all my money on beer, and Joey Ramone and Arturo Vega would be out of town with the Ramones, so I couldn’t crash at their loft, and I’d be walking back to the “Punk Dump” on 10th Avenue and 30th Street to the offices of Punk magazine in the basement of Hell’s Kitchen.
It’s very rare that 34 years after you date someone, you get a chance to witness a documentary about what was going on in that person’s life at the time you were dating them. Remarkable, really, but I got the chance recently when Showtime premiered the documentary, “Nothing Compares,” about Sinead O’Connor by filmmaker Kathryn Ferguson.
I was sitting home alone on a quiet Wednesday night when my phone rang. It was a bond call! A shot of adrenaline went straight to my brain whenever my phone rang. I answered eagerly with a million thoughts going through my head. Many people assume I had celebrity clients through nepotism. Not necessarily so… Here’s the true story of my first celebrity client.
Liz Hand is one of my favorite contemporary writers, as well as being a friend. As her website (elizabethhand.com) tells it; “Her work has received multiple Shirley Jackson, World Fantasy and Nebula Award, among other honors, and several of her books have been New York Times and Washington Post Notable books.” My favorite books of Liz’s are her critically acclaimed novels featuring her fictional character, Cass Neary, a bisexual, alcoholic, speed freak, who published an acclaimed photo book in the 1970’s, but has faded into obscurity, supporting herself by authenticating photos for weirdo collectors around the world. This is where the fun begins-- as inevitably someone gets murdered-- and instead of wanting to solve the crime, Cass wants to get the fuck out of town!
I’m not going to lie, it was exciting for me to go to Men’s Central Jail in downtown Los Angeles. I’m not sure if it’s the “high power” inmates or just nervous energy. You see, in LA ex-cons are everywhere and they’re not embarrassed to tell you about it. Having been in Men’s Central Jail can earn you a pack of sycophants for the rest of your life. So yes, I’ll admit, on my first visit to MCJ I was genuinely giddy. I was there to interview a defendant in custody. I needed to feel him out and determine whether he was worth the risk of posting his bond. All my rookie enthusiasm changed very quickly.
We mourn the death of Olivia Newton-John. She was a pleasant singer and actress, an icon to a certain generation of fans who grew up with her, most after she made the transition from British-born Aussie country singer to pop star, the little girls wanting to be her, young boys wanting to be with her – and even more boys wanting to be her. Now that she’s gone, after a long and valiant battle with cancer, Olivia Newton-John is receiving well-deserved honors, but she has left this plane with a mystery that dangles and clouds her legacy. It’s a mystery partially of her own making, a question left unanswered: WHAT EVER HAPPENED TO PATRICK MCDERMOTT?
Dunc had it all; the charm, the clothes, the looks, the brains, the talent, and more importantly, he was not an asshole. He didn’t need an entourage, he enjoyed going to see his friend’s work, and he enjoyed explaining why he liked something or did not like it. He was extremely accessible and his take on “the work” was inspiring. And his manner was classy, in an unpretentious way; more Mid-West down home. And his smile was infectious.
This was the 144th day of 2022. There have been more mass shootings than days in the year. Let me clarify that: there have been more mass shootings in America than days in the year. This is the only country in the world that can claim that dishonorable distinction. Think about that
Bobcat Goldthwait comes out and introduces the clips that Jerry brought, and the clips are running. There's the famous dance down the stairs from Cinderfella. There’s him doing the incredibly famous boardroom bit from The Errand Boy. And I'm watching Jerry look at himself. He was seventy-six, overweight and nobody knows who he is anymore, and he's looking at the twenty-six-year-old version of himself when he was super-famous. And I see Jerry look out at the half-full crowd, and then Jerry fell to the ground. And I think he’s dead.
This article was originally published by Chris Zappa on Medium in 2021 under the title, “I Just Can’t Even With Eric Clapton Anymore.” Chris has graciously given Legsville permission to republish it, and I encourage other music lovers to read Chris’ work on Medium as well as sign up for Zappagram, the mother of all music newsletters, which he runs on Substack.
©2022 By Lillian Glass – Director/ Producer, Body Language Expert, Communication Expert | "First of all, she is once again copying Johnny's style as she too is wearing a vest under a blazer just like Johnny is wearing and has been wearing throughout the trial."
Leon felt the muscles in his arms spasm after tearing down the Snake Girl tent in less than an hour. A job that usually took three other men two hours and a half-pack of cigarettes, he could do alone in fifty-three minutes.
Cynthia was truly an original thinker and a meticulous goofy artist who took the job of casting rock stars’ erect “rigs” extremely seriously while never losing her sense of humor about the job at hand. Join me now as we listen to Cynthia Plaster Caster’s story….
Excerpted from CORPORATE ROCK SUCKS: The Rise and Fall of SST Records by Jim Ruland. Copyright © 2022. Available from Hachette Books, an imprint of Hachette Book Group, Inc.
On April 29, 1992, jurors in Simi Valley, California acquitted five Los Angeles police officers in the videotaped beating of Rodney King. Los Angeles citizens responded to the news with a display of widespread civil disobedience and destruction that became known as the Los Angeles Riots. The evening the violence began, Burt Kearns, a producer of the syndicated nightly tabloid magazine series, Hard Copy, was sharing a pizza with correspondent Rafael Abramovitz at Santopietro’s restaurant. Thirty years later, the following is adapted from his memoir, Tabloid Baby.
After consuming magic mushrooms in Basel, Switzerland, I ran into Albert Hofmann, the chemist who catalyzed the psychedelic era. | By John Horgan on April 19, 2014 (Reprinted with John Horgan’s Permission) | © 2022 Scientific American, A Division Of Nature America, Inc.
Johnny’s body language is open and his tone is appealing. He is articulate and his drawing out his articulation and pacing time is engaging. He comes across as in control and level-headed in his delivery and appears to be credible. While many of the revelations are shocking, he openly describes his experiences with Amber and holds nothing back. He is also credible in the fact that he openly admits his flaws and embarrassing issues as well.
The punk rock stylist and fashion icon has passed away in her home in Seaford on Sunday. Jordan styled the Sex Pistols, managed Adam and the Ants, worked at Vivienne Westwood’s famous store, Sex and starred in the film Jubilee by Derek Jarman. The actress, model, artist and vet has been mourned by the masses on social media.
One of the great unknown stories about Andy Warhol is that he hired someone to impersonate him on a tour of colleges throughout the United States in 1967. And Andy almost got away with it. Almost...
Years back I lived in New Haven. There I resided in Westville, a mile or two out from Yale Law School where I was a student. An Orthodox priest and his wife rented part of their basement to me, a comfortable enough pied a terre with arresting Greek icons and cruciforms lining the walls just outside it. Joe Lieberman lived a few blocks away. He was famous.
Adam Parfrey founded Feral House in 1989 and died in 2018-- though it continues to publish innovative, unexpected and thought-provoking nonfiction — inspiring films and cultural trends; exposing crime, malfeasance and stupidity; and celebrating artists and thinkers overlooked by popular media.
Robert C. Hockett is a Professor of Law at Cornell University who used to live in Lawrence, Kansas and play in a garage band a few houses away from William S. Burroughs. On his 108th birthday, Robert remembers Bill hanging out at his house, watching the band.
THE HIGHER THE HAIR – THE CLOSER TO GOD: GWEN SHAMBLIN-LARA; THE MILLIONAIRE PREACHER OF A WEIGHT LOSS CULT
By Amy Haben | "Gwen may have had good intentions in the beginning of her career but became power hungry and evil once she became more famous and richer. Her alt-right values which became more extreme after she met Joe, didn’t help things."
By Burt Kearns | Tone was a movie star. Neal was a B-movie dolt who looked good in trunks. The woman was Barbara Payton, a badtime, badass blonde who’d gone more rounds (in the sack, of course) than both men put together.
"At age 20, artist Jean-Michel Basquiat emerged from the downtown scene with a budding sophistication equally rooted in abstract expressionism and the post-punk, no-wave, hip-hop, graffiti grit of the Mudd Club avant-garde." | ©2022 by Amanda Sheppard
"She was always doing new things, but she still stayed connected to her roots and wasn’t too cool to show up and play at a small downtown club with punk bands and her friends."