A chronicle of Birdmonster, Dirty Spanglish and more - By N.L. Belardes

Birdmonster swoops into the Bakersfield music scene


While Dirty Spanglish talks potty...

When I first started writing about the Bakersfield music scene I didn’t take my kid’s band, Dirty Spanglish too seriously. I mean, why would I? I was just joking during a car ride when Lando asked, “What should I name the band?” I belted out “Dirty Spanglish” as if it had been sitting on my tongue all day. It was for no other reason than I thought he’d laugh at me.

We do that to each other.


Fans hang out at the Dome wearing crazy merch thrown out by Dirty Spanglish

It’s like our constant reciting of Anchorman lines. Quick witted stupidity.

I really don’t even know why I thought up that name other than giggling at my own dorkiness wondering if people would get the idea of spanglish potty talk. I have a hard time reading spanglish novels. Actually, I can’t read spanglish novels even though I have tried. So it was more of a pondering than a band name. But Lando liked it.

And the rest of his band liked it too.


You'd think Matildakay joined the band. Lead singer Shaun's
hand can be seen holding a burger if you look closely

Well I still don’t take Dirty Spanglish too seriously, but I can say I really enjoy their “pop punk you can dance to” music as well as chronicling their ongoing adventures. I think they’ll be able to look back years from now and say, “We did some crazy stuff and pops was weird enough to write all about it.” Right now they’re all around 15 years old. They take their music as serious fun. And that’s all you can ask of kids these days. I mean, their first gig ever was to 7000 rowdies at the Rabobank Arena. That was hilarious fun because we all wondered: could they pull it off? They did. Hockey fans enjoyed them. Not to mention the classic moment of Lando sailing a hockey CD into infinity and running because he thought someone’s head was going to be severed on its downfall.


Pop punk kids look like a British sensation of popsters

But suddenly Dirty Spanglish has been called on a lot by the music scene to open for higher tiered bands, the latest being Birdmonster out of San Francisco.


Lando looks blue-handed and serene

Here’s a change of thought:

The Bakersfield music scene is small compared to other music scenes around the world. Comparatively to a large urban center it’s a barely visible mast on an ocean horizon of steaming juggernauts.


Peter Arcuni of the incredible rock band, Birdmonster



The Bakersfield Californian recently asked San Francisco band Birdmonster about the scene in San Francisco. Good question. You could almost hear Peter Arcuni of Birdmonster whisper, “It’s huge!”

Instead, he said:

There's a lot of bands. The idea of the Bay Area right now is, a lot of bands all kind of doing what they want to be doing. So there are bands that are doing more experimental weird stuff, there are bands doing rock 'n' roll, there are bands kind of doing everything. That's why I find San Francisco such an appealing place to be in a band because I don't find myself confined.

But what about the Bakersfield music scene?


Peter Arcuni digs in cause he can

It’s vibrant, diverse, and I hope bands like Birdmonster from large area scenes do find value in stopping through.

I explored Bakersfield’s The Dome recently where a zillion bands were billed for the same marathon evening: Road Narrows, Urban Sadhus, Birdmonster, Dirty Spanglish, Three Chord Whore, Red Italy and Out of Exile.



It was a little confusing. The show was actually in a building attached to the Dome. Poor marketing. They should give the adjacent building a snappy name like “Club Chencho” at The Dome or something. In fact, I thought it was called Chencho’s. Give it another name so that kids don’t turn away. I know some people got confused when there were two events going on simultaneously: an alcoholics anonymous event at The Dome and the music gig at Club Chenchos.

Enough complaining.

Big Daddy Ruben Val Verde of Bakersfield band From Ritual To Romance is heading up some of the smaller events for Tim Gardea Presents. He was on hand to tell me about what’s going on in the scene with his band. Yes, FRTR are getting more poppy. But that’s a good thing: more appeal and catchier tunes. We did a brief interview:



I have to say the Birdmonster event was one of my favorite Tim Gardea events I’ve attended. Of course there was the classic Karmahitlist show at the Reggae-less reggae fest, and World Leader Pretend at the now defunct Montgomery World Plaza. Both shows had their memorable moments that will go down in Bakersfield music lore.

The Birdmonster show was no slouch.


David Klein's ghost image hovers over his intense guitar riffs

I met up with Peter Arcuni and the rest of Birdmonster before their show for an interview about traveling through Bakersfield:



After they talked to me I snapped a few photos of Peter Arcuni writing his set list on his arm.




These DIY Indie rockers put on a high-energy show that matched pop punk band Delux from Tijuana and L.A.’s The Briggs who I once saw at the same venue. Lead man Peter Arcuni and the rest of Birdmonster are show men to say the least. Songs “Ice Age”, “The Bar In The Back Of The Basement” and “Cause You Can” really rocked the house as they bounded around the stage that doubles as a practice boxing rink.


*poor sound quality, kickin' images




Birdmonster bassist with a passion: Justin Tenuto

At one point the bass player was smashing a tambourine against his bass as he screamed, jumped onto an amp and let his emotions fly. That’s good music when you can see a band transformed by their own collective passion.


Road Narrows performs acoustic...

The other bands performing included Road Narrows: a one-man acoustic act. The kid looked like he was more with the emo crowd. But that didn’t matter. There was diversity in music and the bands generally supported one another, regardless of mixing genres.



Urban Sadhus was pure experiment in sound. There was two drum sets, congas, keyboards, a trombone, music samples, electric guitars. I’m sure I’m forgetting something. Their music was so loud I had to stand in the back to protect my ears. I give them two thumbs up for experimentation and bravado.




Get a glimpse of the WHORES

Three Chord Whore rocked the house. Lead vocalist, Darcie was crazy as usual, wanting to strangle Ruben for a defective mic stand. It was hilarious. My favorite song of theirs was “Horseface”. It’s a song with serious issues. And that’s why I like it. It’s sung with gusto as if each member of the band is calling you out for being a loser asshole. It’s great! I was excited to see I was mentioned in the liner notes of their 5-song untitled e.p. Thanks whores!





I never figured out who the drunk lady was they let onstage to sing with them. She swiveled her hips, sloshed her beer, but luckily didn’t fall off into the crowd.

Red Italy from Shafter, California has some awesome instrumentals. Interestingly enough I can actually hear one of their instrumentals in my head as I type this. They perform catchy yet hard melodic riffs that just pull you right in. Most interesting was the young guy they had dancing onstage with a strobe light. He had no instrument.




*poor sound quality, cool images



In a large urban center you could take the same band, but instead of their jeans and T-shirt look, put them in strange costumes and they would be performance art. The strobe light kid also had some black light sticks, or a jedi sword. Not really sure which, but the lights were a cool effect. I didn’t see too much of their music because I had to take off. It had already been a long night and the younger kids all had to get home.

I did miss goth metal band Out of Exile. I was bummed because these guys came all painted up like hybrids of Marilyn Mason and old school Kiss. When I was backstage helping Dirty Spanglish figure out where they needed to go I saw the painted up figures of Out of Exile passing through. They were ominous, dark, and I wanted to take a photo with them and Dirty Spanglish. I was too chicken to ask. I know their make-up was for show. But it worked. They looked like they would string me up right there if I asked anything like, “Could I please take a photo??”


Members of the Psycho Bums are punk rock mohawk monsters...

Dirty Spanglish put on what I thought was their best show ever. They went on right after Birdmonster’s high-flying energetic set. Instead of folding up, Those dirty spangle monsters fed off the Birdmonster energy. They put on a raucous show of their own that had kids moshing and one older guy jumping off his barstool to hear them perform some punked out Johnny Cash. Some of the punk kids in attendance are forming a band called Psycho Bums. You gotta dig that.


Dirty Spanglish bassist Nicky Jack Acid Crack and vocalist Shaun Alaniz


Blue electric power chords


Lando warms up before the show

They rocked out along with the members of the Late Greats who all showed up and partied to songs like “Electric”, “Zebras” and “She’s a Jones Soda”. They threw out big stuffed flowers, an Irish hat and a pair of Valentine’s Day boxers. One kid pulled the boxers over his pants for a nice touch.


The Late Greats showed some support

Another kid who was there to show support is a Bakersfield High student. He and a friend both recently took over the Bakersfield High football field press box during first period PE. They did mock commentary and eventually BA’d the entire field, and didn’t get caught! Talk about a classic move that will go down in high school infamy... “They were witnessed by hundreds,” Lando says.


Jordo from Black Dog gets into the Dirty Spanglish mosh


Lando before the show with Bakersfield High buddy...


It's all about having a good exit. Birdmonster booked it after
their show to head back to the Golden Gate...

What a great night! I'm having a fun time chronicling the adventures of Dirty Spanglish. You'll read about them again soon as they take on the Bakersfield High School Talent Show at the Harvey Auditorium. Should be classic...


Dirty Spanglish calls it a night...

Holy shitake, new music from Bakersfield, Bristol, San Fran and L.A. - By N.L. Belardes

Holy shit I think I’m going to wet myself. I’ve been listening to the best music lately. One album I bought. That doesn’t count for a review copy but I say heck, I’ll review it anyways. It’s Birdmonster’s album, No Midnight. They're out of San Francisco. Another I also bought but I plan on reviewing is some straight up raw punk: Bakersfield’s The 28s album What a Joke. You already read my review of The Filthies Your Turn. Holy shitake. And then there’s Better Angels of Our Nature by Bristol, England’s Seagull Strange. I promised them an interview. They found me on the web and shipped their just released album over. Damn it’s good. Another big gem I just got in the mail and I have goosbumps. I mean, real honest-to-goodness goosebumps. One of my favorite bands out of L.A. is World Wide Spies. It’s their 80s licks and jovial attitude. JFK rocks. He's the band's lead man, a sarcastic-filled witty Brit who always has a dozen stories to tell. The guys are damn cool to say the least. They have a new album coming out called Images of Black & White. I’m spinning the album, but had to take a break. I'm only on song three. If the album goes downhill I’ll be surprised. I think it’s starting off as an instant New New Wave classic. Shit. Gotta get back to work… expect a slew of reviews and an announcement very soon about my new column titled "North of Hollywood" that's coming in the February edition of Big Wheel Magazine… Holy shitake!

Bakotunes Radio numero 48 shouts out to Paperback Writer - By N.L. Belardes

I was talking to Matt Munoz today about his incredible podcast: Bakotunes Radio. It's professional, edited wonderfully, and has great soundbites. And Munoz asks perfect questions of the band, Skalavera, who performed in Bakersfield recently.

"My podcast was done in a tuna can during a rainstorm in comparison to Bakotunes," I laughed in a phone call to Matt.

Listen to Episode 48. It's really good!

Thanks for the shout out!

In a drive-by shooting with The Palindrome - By N.L. Belardes

There I was at home watching a flick when there came a wrap at the door. My outside light wasn’t on. All I could see were shadows, one of which had long hair and stood with a breastplate made of plastic. I flipped on the light, stunned to see three college age kids lookin’ for a hell of trouble. One of them held a camera.

It was a drive-by shooting.


Bruce Willis can drive anyone insane

They were the boys of The Palindrome, a techno band who samples dark sounds and adds driving guitars, ambient voice-moans as well as strange maniacal screams and whispers to their music. They were in the mood for a photo shoot.


N.L. and Cerebro: Dualing glasses and breastplates

I’m rarely in photos. I take them but hate to have my own snapped. I was in a good mood, and they drove all the way over and I love their sense of humor from having seen the short films they’ve been involved in via Matt Kieley Films. Snuffy was one of the culprits, as was Cerebro and The Bearded Lady. Their real names are Matt Kieley Andrew Price and Sam Jarvis.


Nice socks Mister Banalez

How could I say no? I couldn’t. Besides, I was curious about what their imaginations would cook up. I just stood there in my sweats, socks and shirt and let them direct me.

“Let’s do a Publisher’s Clearinghouse shot,” one of them said. They had a Bruce Willis record album with them. Who doesn’t like Bruce? We posed. We tried a brick next. And then a few melancholy shots.


You've just won!!

It’s all in the symbol for something masterful.

Or just the crazy minds of The Palindrome having fun on a random evening.


You've just won!!

Corporate card etiquette for the workplace? - By N.L. Belardes

Will you sign a corporate card just like everyone else?

What would Cubicle Dweller think if she were told to have corporate card etiquette? Would she even sign a card if passed into her cubicle? Or would she put a sticker on the card, pour Prozac all over it and write a note with an arrow that says, "Scratch and sniff"?

Everyone should know I’m a closet reader of Cubicle Dweller. She’s Bakersfield’s eyes to the cubicle life at the mysterious county offices of Kern. She takes medication, and often her co-workers push her to the brink of insanity where she nearly takes more than her recommended daily allowance. And it’s all true! Talk about snoring during your career. I once survived a county cubicle for around eight months. That’s about five dog years. Sure, I was in the more flamboyant marketing department. But there was still a little grey cloud hanging over my desk the same color as the partitions.

I shouldn’t complain. I work in a corporate environment today as well. But it’s not nearly as dry as working for Kern County, where cubicles could be filled with plastic flowers and you’d think: that’s normal.

My own unpublished Cubicles novel takes the corporate world and smashes in a dose of philosophy. I wrote it before The Office TV show, but after Office Space the movie. It’s a weird tale of office romance and is filled with enlightenment-filled axioms and non-etiquette reasoning.


This worker needs a card

Speaking of corporate etiquette, I had a big realization today after being tipped off to watch a Wall Street Journal video on corporate card etiquette. Yes, you heard it right: Corporate Card Etiquette. If you’ve been the recipient of having a card passed around at your workplace, and you never knew what to write, well, there is an answer out there for you. Sarah E. Needlemen not only wrote an entire careerjournal.com article titled, “Tips for Signing Office Cards When Inspiration Is Lacking,” she even stars in a video (Click on 'Video clip' under 'Related Links' in the middle of the article).

And you won’t be bored. Now that I’ve seen the video, dammit I’m paranoid of writing in the center of cards, and will forever shy from my long-winded diatribes and spectacularly novelesque happy birthday-isms.

The video itself is informative and strange. A giant man interviews a reporter who has flippy hair. She talks about etiquette but then the video cuts to Dilbert: the ultimate mocking of corporate America. I giggled.

So go watch the video and learn how to be a corporate card signing Michelangelo of your cubicle island…

Rumors at the graves of Walter Kane, Alfred Harrell and the Fritts brothers - By N.L. Belardes

Grave marker at Union Cemetery, Bakersfield, California

A few months ago I crept around Union Cemetery and stumbled onto the crypt of Alfred Harrell. I went back with Hectic Films to shoot part of the documentary for "Chronicle of the Lords". I've been back a few times since, including recently to take photos.


What could be inside but the mysterious bones of Bakersfield past?


The crypt of Alfred Harrell with an ominous door...

We filmed the newspaper man's giant crypt, a nearby Masonic ceremonial slab with a walkway and stairs, weird grave stones with strange emblems, then shot Ted Fritts and Don Fritts graves. The two brothers are buried side by side with mere flat stone markers. They were strangely pauper-like tombstones for newspaper publishers.


Two brothers: two newspapermen buried side by side

There were other flat stone graves near the crypt, one which marked Walter Kane.


What was in the planter on the grave? A chile pepper plant? Weird...

Who was Walter Kane? Some say he was a pedophile who lived on a creepy street and preyed on kids. Supposedly he was the Bakersfield Californian’s general manager until 1967. Was he a Harrell descendant? The leader of the White Orchid Society? Rumors, myth and urband legend indicate he was perverted and a drunk in the late 80s up until the time of his death. Are any of these allegations true? You tell me. I just wonder if he was like the twisted sort of Peter Pan that Glen Fitts supposedly was: a grown man who threw wild parties for teenage kids.


Masonic cermonial platform? Men in robes and strange insignias...

The Bakersfield Californian newspaper has a creepy side to its history, a lot of which we will never know. I’d love to be wandering the Californian building when family stories are freely being thrown among its brick halls. What would we hear? What ghosts would be mentioned? What deeds have been done, and what are the shadows of the Californian’s past?


What's inside the crypt of Alfred Harrell?

A filmmaker working for the Californian recently told me the newspaper building on Eye Street is supposedly haunted. I hope he explores the buildings darkest depths.

I often wonder if publisher Ginger Moorhouse released the 2003 articles on the Lords of Bakersfield, implicating her own brother, as part of a tactic to rid herself of the ghosts attached to her name: The Lords of Bakersfield, The White Orchid Society. Sure, the releasing of the articles attracted attention, but they also make a statement of distance, since as a publisher you’d think if she were protecting the image of her brother, she would have not allowed the release of such articles—although the articles are watered down. Moorhouse surely wasn’t protecting the image of her brother. My book, Lords: Part One definitely goes deep into the psychology of the urban legend...


Strange tree-headstone at Union Cemetery

The 2003 articles mark the release of a conspiracy into the consciousness of people beyond the scope of just Bakersfield, California, where such urban legends must have once run rampant in whispers and closed-door conversations.

Now everybody knows.

One of the questions I had when researching The Lords of Bakersfield was who were all the potential players. I’ve once heard that you could pick up certain local phone directories and all the players names would be right there for anyone to read. You just had to know which directory held the list.


A crypt of secrets, a doorway to Bakersfield lore...

Anyway, it was an interesting time out at the cemetery. It's been a lot of fun fictionalizing all the weird stories I've been hearing and researching. Dark stories of Bakersfield culture have become pop culture fascinations for all of us, making wandering through a cemetery a must for anyone interested in Bakersfield lore.

Read articles on my homepage, go pick up my book at Russo's, or order online if you want to jump further into Bakersfield's dark urban heart.

A note from Lisa Crystal Carver on her review of Alternadad - By N.L. Belardes

While former President Jimmy Carter is kissing up about passages in his book Palestine: Peace not Apartheid, Lisa Crystal Carver, author of Drugs Are Nice is not backing down from feisty words in her review of Alternadad. I don’t have to say much more about her review, “The Ironic Thing: Why I hate parenting memoirs like Alternadad,” other than her opening line, “Like surprisingly many people, I have always held a vague abhorrence for Neal Pollack.”

Of course I go on to call her a “mean tart” in my comments but really what’s interesting are the many hurt comments from people not getting what Carver’s trying to do. One commenter writes, “I don't understand your take here. This isn't a review of the Alternadad book, it's a personal attack on Pollack. Why? It smacks of jealousy and bitterness… I'm put off by this whole thing. Lisa Carver, I think I'll hold a "vague abhorrence" for you now. Get a life.”

Ouch.

You can read more comments here. And leave a comment on her review!

I go on to write in my comment of her review:

From the little contact I had with Lisa, it took a little while to tune into her unique blend of sarcasm and humor. She tears at the world around her--claws at it, really. And she does so in a way that makes you laugh and makes you squirm. All she seems to be doing is ripping the golden gleam off the gilded world around us. She has her own way of doing it. And that's OK. I get it.

I was surprised to get an email from Carver who felt I actually did ‘get’ her. That’s a relief. Here’s part of my note from Carver:

You are the first of 25 people to figure out that what I want is revolution, not to be liked, or for what's his name to be disliked… That guy shouldn't call himself The Greatest Living American Writer if he wants his books to be judged on a "good enough" basis, rather than is he or isn't he a pioneer, getting hurt and hurting others in his blundering, fearless, (and hopefully funny) fuck you into the scariest part of the woods.

Thanks Lisa.

(Read my interview and review of Carver’s Drug’s Are Nice)

Danny Garone and the Iron Outlaws at The Fish Fry - By N.L. Belardes

Is this Cesareo? No! It's Danny "Iron Gunner" Garone

I was in the mood to play six degrees of Cesareo Garasa recently and up popped the new alt country band, Danny Garone and the Iron outlaws (I've been listening to their music a lot on bakotopia. I dig "Southside"). Yes folks, Cesareo is in another band. Only this is country/rock music right out of the six shooter of old Moonshine Deathbed—eternally resting in peace—a little more than a footnote now: one of Cesareo’s many connecting points to the Bakersfield music scene.

Connect him to Mento Buru, Black Dog, Moonshine Deathbed, Midnight Panic, Adema, Karmahitlist, Rocky Nash… oh man the list goes on.


Is this Cesareo? No! It's AJ Lopez

There I was at the Fish Fry (Fishlips). A few people arrived from the scene including one local I like to call The Opportunist. I know every artist is one. But that’s beside the point. She’s no artist. I guess I just don’t like the flaky type—those Kelloggs Corn Flake wanna be climbin’ the Bakersfield social elite networky type who lay big claims as if having found the next falootin’ gold rush. Whooee that's a mouthful.

Those floozies are a dime a dozen.

I once disagreed with her slurred drunken point of view in the back of a bar.

Ever since she looks through me like I'm an invisible Texas Tornader.


Iron Gunner at the helm

I’d already fallen into a mood with a Texas-sized headache, but still wandered into the music scene for a brief round-up with Cesareo’s latest posse. I met the Iron Gunner himself, Danny Garone, for a quick handshake, then sat back and listened to a few licks. There was some banjo, guitar work, a stand-up bass, and you know, all the fixuns for some footstompin’. There was a little of that too.


Bakersfield needs a lot more music like Danny Garone and the Iron Outlaws. Black Dog comes to mind...

Finally I snuck out for some fresh air—head still a mess, and gave up. I jammed into the Bakersfield night to zoom back to my cabin out in Ol’ Eander.

Lords Part One in Russo's Books Top 15 - By N.L. Belardes

This is a cut-and-paste from Bakersfield's Russo's Books homepage... Hooray for # 12!


Russo's Books is Bakersfield's only independent general bookseller. As such, we have a firm commitment to our hometown. This includes a commitment our Local Authors, many of whose books are available exclusively at our stores. Every six months we calculate the best of the best, rank them, and release the list as The Bakersfield Bestsellers.

In our next issue we will reveal the Top 8, but for this edition we present a quick run down of numbers 9 - 15 from the newly released Bakersfield Bestseller list.

#15-T Kindred Spirits: Flesh and Blood is the second in Brian Puckett's popular mystery / horror series.

#15-T Almost Like a Song is a Christian-based romance novel by Delia Latham. My grandmother loved it and it makes for both good reading and good gift giving.

#14 Buena Vista II by photographer Greg Iger has become a Kern County classic since its release several years ago. If you don't know how beautiful Kern County is, you don't know Greg.

#13 Tommy Wilson #1 Case of Wounded Jack Rabbit is a former #1 Bakersfield Bestseller by Maggie Caldwell-Smith. My 8 year old really enjoyed this title.

#12 Lords Part I is N.L. Belardes' fictional account of the many controversies and scandals that rocked Bakersfield in the late 70s and early 80s.

#11 Tommy Wilson #2 Case of the Orphaned Bobcat picks up where Maggie Caldwell-Smith's first young adult mystery novel left off.

#10 Ridge Route by Harrison Scott is a former #1 Bakersfield Bestseller and one of our all-time bestselling local books. The history of the Grapevine and the road that united California.

#9 Grannies' Critters by Peg Connelly is a collection of short stories (about animals) designed for boys and girls ages 2-12. This is a fun book to have around the house!

Is wiretapping by Bakersfield and federal agencies out of control? - By N.L. Belardes

As broad of an issue that surveillance has become in America you might think wiretapping by local government and federal agencies is out of control. Last I heard, wiretapping had gone warrantless on the Federal level. It was in appeals in late 2006 anyway. Locally, regarding the Vincent Brothers case I’ve heard talk of wiretapping having gone on at the Harper residence long before the murders took place. If such wiretapping occurred, then why? Some say it was harassment. But we know how rumors regarding murders can spread.

I’ve written to a blogger who swore his house phones were tapped on occasion. Why?

Who is to say? Surveillance issues have taken America into heated debate. The cry of Homeland Security has rung through our ears, the last shouts through the clatter of fallen towers—other than screaming machinery of war.

With surveillance comes issues of privacy and individual rights. What rights do we really have if Federal and State governments believe they have just cause to peer into our lives at every turn?

You’re driving down a street near the rare occurrence of an American bombing and your best friend riding with you has Arabic features. Your friend isn’t even Arabic. He’s Mexican. Doesn’t matter. The police only see exigent circumstances. Your car and persons are searched without any kind of warrant. Your friend is carted off to prison.

It doesn’t stop there. What about phone tapping? In the name of Homeland Security is it possible all our phones can be tapped anytime the government wants? And how easy would it be for government officials to abuse such power and, falsify stacks of documentation required to tap into private American conversations? Oh wait, it’s warrantless, unless the appeals killed it. Someone please tell me…

Corruption and scandal?

Could it happen in Kern County?

Especially in Bakersfield, the land of forced interrogations and mostly overturned child molestation trials. Don’t you watch 48 Hours? Have you seen Nightline? Do you read the Rolling Stone? Or this site? Are you not aware of the Lords of Bakersfield stories? (read more) Why Bakersfield consistently whines about our DA and then hands him 90% of votes each election is strange, as not even national news, an article in the Rolling Stone, the Bakersfield Californian Lords stories, and a book on Mean Justice can sway popular opinion within Kern County. 90%! And that’s give or take a few percentage points.



I guess it’s that strong conservative heart of the rural Central Valley. Lock away not just the guilty but the potentially guilty and throw away the key. Safer streets, right? Wrong. Last I heard the gangs run Bakersfield. It was just recently I was reprimanded by police for allowing my kids to walk to a high school football game. Yes, that’s blame on me for a pack of 20 gang kids jumping my kids and their two friends because they look white. The police didn’t do shit but talk down to me. The gangs run Bakersfield streets. The police make excuses for them.

Maybe I’m just skewed because I just read John Grisham’s latest book The Innocent Man, and listened to TV interviews where grown men talked about being young boys in the 1980s, coerced by law officials into false testimony.

So I’m not at all surprised if corruption and scandal wriggle their dark hands into the area of surveillance in Bakersfield.

And it doesn’t end with wiretapping, car and home searches.

Email backdoors in corporate networks are set up just for government tampering. That means if you work for a corporation, your emails can also belong to the US government. They’re already corporate property.

And what about your emails on Yahoo, Google, or Hotmail?

According to a September 12, 2001 article in Wired Magazine titled “Anti-Attack Feds Push Carnivore” Declan McCullagh writes,

Just hours after three airplanes smashed into the buildings in what some U.S. legislators have dubbed a second Pearl Harbor, FBI agents began to visit Web-based, e-mail firms and network providers, according to engineers at those companies who spoke on condition of anonymity.

An administrator at one major network service provider said that FBI agents showed up at his workplace on Tuesday "with a couple of Carnivores, requesting permission to place them in our core, along with offers to actually pay for circuits and costs."

The person declined to say for publication what the provider's response was, "but a lot of people" at other firms were quietly going along with the FBI's request. "I know that they are getting a lot of 'OKs' because they made it a point to mention that they would only be covering our core for a few days, while their 'main boxes were being set up at the Tier 1 carriers' -- scary," the engineer said.

What is most disturbing is that most email users don’t even have a clue that their privacy can be compromised at any second of the day. And where the government requires a judge-issued warrant to search your home computer, the very same government can surf your webmail account with just a subpoena issued without judicial review.

And before you go thinking your Gmail account is safe. Take a look at this 2004 UK article on how Gmail ads work. Yes, the content of your email is scanned by a corporation, so relevant ads can shoot onto your dear nothings to dear somebody. And that means government tracking bots can be added. Sure, you have nothing to hide. But is that the real problem here? Maybe you’re sharing corporate secrets over Gmail.

Maybe you should just test for yourself whether the US government can snoop on you (Go here).

What about letter opening?

In a January 8th 2007 article in the LA Times, “First wiretapping, now letter-opening? Can the feds read your mail without a warrant? You wouldn't think so, but that's not how the president sees it,” the editorial states, “THE BUSH administration seems determined to raise the specter of surveillance over every means of communication within the United States.”

Could such limited individual rights be true? We hate to even suggest such ideas here in Kern County, a land of rugged individualism. The article goes on to say:

Still, it's hard not to be suspicious of the president's position on mail privacy, given the administration's record on the issue of domestic surveillance. In the name of the "war on terror," it has taken an unusually expansive view of government power and a correspondingly restrictive view of individual privacy rights. It also has sought to redefine what constitutes a "reasonable" search, and has often done so unilaterally and in secret.

Does that mean your recent letter stating your opinion to your uncle Fred about the state of war in America, if opened by the Feds, could be held as evidence against you? And don’t think the FBI doesn’t have files on many of us, or many of our community leaders and educators. I used to get into conversations with CSUB professors who declared the Federal government had thick files on many college educators.

One college educator said it was because he attended a few anti-war rallies in the late 1960s.

Fast forward to Bakersfield, California today and you have another story of surveillance, this by local government over CSU Bakersfield professor Steve Bacon (Click link and scroll down for image of Steve) and his wife Nancy Bacon (She’s a therapist). They recently organized a Peace Pole event that I’d heard about but didn’t attend. They were infuriated after receiving two form letters dated Jan. 12 from Deputy District Attorney C. Stephen McNutt stating their telephones may have been tapped for one month during the fall of 2006.

May have been?

I don’t get that wording.

The Peace Pole ceremony included an array of local religions in attendance. Even the mayor was slated to have been there. If Nancy Bacon phoned mosques, well that makes sense. The American government has reason to fear mosques. The Yemeni currently on trial and caught in Bakersfield was likely under surveillance, and quite possibly affiliated with some local mosque. Does that make mosques bad? No.

Or is that explanation too simple?

May have been.

If I got that letter, I would take may have been as a yes. Otherwise, why would I receive the letter?

I wonder if representatives from the DA’s office ever called the Bacons to explain. What would they have said? Maybe something like, “Nothing to worry about. This is routine.”

Turn back the clock to the early 1980s. A little girl is stands sad-faced in a room filled with strangers with badges. They’re telling her that her daddy raped her. They’re telling her to say that on a witness stand. “Nothing to worry about. This is routine,” they say to her.

Talk about the power to screw up someone’s life.

Nothing to worry about folks, this is routine.

Your life is a window.

Nothing to worry about.

And so is everyone’s life around you.

This is routine.

Only you can’t see in or out.

Nothing to worry about…

Freaky Bakersfield exorcism video - By N.L. Belardes

This is by far the weirdest video I've ever watched on Bakersfield.com. Yes, you too can learn to cough out spirits. Beware of barfing them up though. Could be messy.

Bakersfield punk band Knives for Eyes completes punk demo - By N.L. Belardes

I love coming across Bakersfield bands who I'm not very familiar with. Knives for Eyes just completed a demo. You can hear some of their music on myspace.

I hear they just performed last night at Bakersfield's old boxing venue, The Dome...

Bakersfield Californian opera terrorists on the loose! - By N.L. Belardes

OK, not really. But maybe you can help explain this voicemail sent to me by Dane B. that the local paper received.

You never know, these Bakersfield Californian opera terrorists could explain a lot about the state of society.

>Listen

Random Times to have second life - By N.L. Belardes

Looks like Greg Goodsell is partnering up with other locals to rekindle the defunct Random Times newspaper. So much for the article Munoz worked on and my last blog on the topic...

Related articles:

Random Times stops the presses
Random Times stands up to local media
Random Times offends Kenny Mount
Random Times OFFICIALLY SHUTS DOWN
The baby factor
Random Times in hot water
Alt media start ups on Howard Owens
The Munoz article on RT closing shop

Reporter confession unveils Bakersfield Californian cover-up - By N.L. Belardes

Speaking up for the music, theatre and literary scene in 2005 in my blog got me called an “uncivil bully” by the Bakersfield Californian. Now that there’s a confession posted on the Internet by Danielle Belton, former entertainment writer for the Bakersfield Californian, I have to ask once again, was I an uncivil bully for speaking up against the local media in my blog?

Well of course I don’t think so.

The Bakersfield Californian hurts feelings all the time by just telling the news. Look at the recent article on The Filthies. Not a hurtful article, though recent news of digging up controversial ghosts over the death of Kenny Mount’s father was possibly very disturbing to he and his family.

In 2005 I expressed what I heard on the streets—that people weren’t getting coverage or replies from the entertainment reporter. I began to engage in an online dialogue with my readers. I really became critical after getting some attitude from Danielle Belton about an unwillingness to write about my newsworthy novel. Quite possibly that was her superiors forcing her to not write about my book. Why the gag order on my book? I can only guess it’s the subject matter. Anyway, I was just reporting what I felt was a dilemma: the local newspaper not paying attention to local entertainment news.

It’s just opinion, right?

In retrospect, maybe I should have just complained about Belton’s superiors instead of about her. Would it have made a difference? Maybe.

I’d already reported about Jerry’s Pizza and exhausted that story of local entertainment gone haywire. It was high time I reported about entertainment news. Of course I was kicked out of the Bakersfield Californian’s early blog community for expressing my critique of poor entertainment reporting. I hadn’t been quiet about calling for the firing of Danielle Belton.

Months later I heard gossip that Danielle Belton suffered from some kind of mental condition. Some people even blamed me. Her condition was hidden from the public, and I wasn’t about to launch into a series of “Belton is sick” gossip blogs. If she was sick, then I figured that a private matter.

Had I worsened Belton’s condition by aiming my blogs toward her dismissal? I have no idea. I do know she soon stopped writing, and the Bakersfield Californian went into protection mode. She disappeared from the public eye for quite some time.

But now Belton has exposed all, including her condition, and has offered an apology of sorts. She writes:

…why I often didn't go to plays and concerts in the last few years was because I was suffering from crippling agoraphobia. Or I was too busy trying not to kill myself, consider that horrible mystery solved. I'm sorry if I ever hurt anyone's feelings or made them feel like I was shunning them as entertainment reporter.

Mystery solved and apology more than accepted. Belton knew she wasn’t doing a good job as she was suffering from one or more mental conditions. But where did she go? According to Belton, she locked herself up in her apartment writing screenplays, musicals, parts of novels, short stories and TV pilots. She claims to have disappeared from the winter of 2005 to the spring of 2006 and was hospitalized three times, including one Christmas in a UCLA psych ward. Her suicidal condition affected her work. Bouts of depression led her to becoming agitated and easily upset while at the Bakersfield Californian.

It’s clear now, that although Belton worked at the Californian, her workmates became much more than just coworkers. They became her closest friends. All I can do is guess that such closeness may have led to the sudden combativeness of the Bakersfield Californian toward me.

It’s easy to find a scapegoat when you’re protecting someone. Instead of a dialogue, the Californian pushed me away. The Californian, though never paying me, booted me from their midst, and so I booted Belton from my own now defunct blog community. Tit for tat.

And since I was also protecting people; artists who I didn’t want the Californian to know criticized the newspaper; that left me as the target for the certain people at the Californian to possibly spread rumors that I was mean, nasty, and so forth.

No, not mean and nasty. I was just reporting that locals deserve stories in print and online. The Filthies were just as deserving one and a half years ago as they are today to get into the local paper. Just look at the newly formed band, The Dives. Erik Loyd is proudly writing about local acts who don’t have a long track record. And Bakotopia is putting together a CD compilation—that’s Bakersfield Californian money supporting local entertainment. That’s a good thing. Matt Munoz of Bakotopia is heading up that project and even performed in a recent play as a show of good faith toward local art culture. That means the Californian is paying more attention to local art culture, no matter what level of success, in at least their niche market activities.

What I can say is thank goodness Danielle Belton is alive.

Thank goodness her friends saved her. I don’t wish anyone dead. At the most, I had community expectations for Belton as a reporter—so did a lot of artists. I was going to get quotes to back up such statements. But once again. I’m not going to do that. Any fallout from this article doesn’t deserve to land on certain individuals of the art scene.

In the end, I wanted everyone to work together, for the community to live up to its full potential. Belton’s words to me, though now in retrospect, were words crying out that she wanted away from the scene for personal reasons, were taken as a ‘brush off’ of me and other artists. I had to fight back. Just as she believes she eventually had to withdraw to help save herself.

Today, the art scene and the Californian are experiencing more unity than ever before. We’re inching closer toward a day where local bands, and local writers, filmmakers and theatre can enjoy mutual success through media attention.

The Bakersfield who doesn’t know, deserves to have citizens aware of its artistic culture. Culture breeds culture, and Bakersfield needs to grow.

As for the Californian covering up Belton’s illness. She had a right to keep it secret, and the Californian had a right to protect her. I just don’t think the Californian was showing non-bias. They could have spoken to me about their concerns for local entertainment. Instead, they got rabid and distrusting as they sought to protect an ill individual. Calling me an ‘uncivil bully’ just showed they wanted no discussion with a blogger.

In the end, Belton quit her job and is moving to St. Louis. Her myspace letter marked January 19th reveals some of her current state and what she believes she needs to do to build herself a better life:

The mood swings. The medication. The loneliness. The feelings of loss and anger. They weren't going anywhere. They were part of my life now and I needed to finally deal with them. But I needed to go somewhere safe to work my life out. I needed to go home.

In the meantime, I work with Matt Munoz of Bakotopia and give him my best advice as often as he allows it. And he does the same for me.

It’s just sad that I know gossip was spread, and likely still may be because a full story wasn’t told, until now.

Other related articles:

More on uncivil bully
The Californian should fire Danielle Belton
Belton talks shop over Mount rant
Californian gets hip to local blogger news stories
On the Star Wars beat
Wing Wahs and Gigantic disappear
Punk kid attacked and reported on nlbelardes.com
Californian gets even
The unappreciated war for online traffic
Drama in the blog scene
Letter from Matildakay.com
Where's Bakersfield Bob?

The violence of the Bakersfield night life - By N.L. Belardes

Nile Theatre during the closed years. Circa 2002


American Standard video has bar fights galore...

A few weeks ago I was walking in downtown Bakersfield on a Sunday morning snapping photos of a local poet. We headed over to the Nile Theatre, an area I thought would make a nice backdrop. When we got closer I noticed blood on the ground. I wondered if it were from someone with a bloody nose, an injury, or the result of a fight.

I’ve seen my share of bloody altercations in downtown Bakersfield over the years. In the mid-1990s I witnessed several fights in the Wall Street Alley. To name a few: I’ve seen a punker fight off four attackers right outside Jerry’s Pizza. I’ve seen a friend assaulted with a knife, and I witnessed a bottle fight outside of the old Goose Loonies between a bouncer and a punker. The punker won; I still wonder if the bouncer got stitches. He had stumbled after having a bottle smashed against his head.


Mysterious drops of blood outside the Nile Theatre?

During the late 1990s and into late 2001 I lived in Las Vegas. I’m guessing I missed out on a front row seat to many downtown Bakersfield brawls.

None to worry, I watched and played a lot of hockey through those years in Vegas and in Bakersfield. There was always a lot of smashing going on.

Over my two years of writing about the Bakersfield music scene I’ve heard about plenty of altercations, some in and about Jerry’s Pizza. One was outside, where a cook was killed. Then of course the Cacti Widders altercation, and so on. There was the death at old Downtown Joes by the hands of bouncers, and the KooKooNauts battle royale at the old Montgomery World Plaza.

City life? Urban life? Do we just accept the violence and go on with our own lives, frequenting the very places where such eruptions occur? Violence is a staple in American movies, especially bar scenes. You almost hate to see one pass by on the silver screen without fisticuffs. I once knew a guy who got into a bar fight and killed the guy he fought. He went to jail for several years, and other than that fight I would have never known him to be mean.

Downtown Joes closed. So did Rock N’ Rodeo—there was a shooting there. As there was a shooting outside of Kosmos on 19th Street. Even though unrelated to the bar and grill, the gunfire was enough to get the Kosmos cabaret license taken away. Owner, Jimmy the Greek has talked to me several times about the whole mess.

Just a few nights ago a couple of men were shot and killed outside a Bakersfield strip club. One was the bouncer.

I’ve heard gossip about Rileys downtown being a powder keg waiting to go off. I’ve been there on weekdays for alternative music shows. Friendly enough. But on the weekends there’s a thick crowd, a rough crowd. Scary? Not necessarily. The scene is in full swing and the libido is on high alert. Maybe the cops who patrol downtown Bakersfield’s weekend mean streets are enough to prevent a shooting, fisticuffs or stabbing. And who is most likely to do it? Gang-related downtown rebels? Punkers? The hip hop crowd? Mexican gangsters? Oilfield workers with attitudes? University frat boys? Who? Everyone’s mingling.

Maybe downtown isn’t even where the next bar-related violence is going to take place?

I recently received a letter from one man who refuses to go back to Trouts on North Chester Avenue because of past violence there.


Trouts Bar, Oildale, California

In a letter titled, “What Really Happened To Randy,” Randy Dodson details what happened to him five years ago in May of 2002. He had been at Trouts on a Friday evening, listening to music, was asked to get a couple of beers, brought some empty bottles back to the bar from the bandstand and got in an argument with Theodore Cheever, one of the staff. “He proceeded to yell and scream at me that I was not supposed to be up on the bandstand.” After that argument he got in another argument as he headed toward the bar owner.

Soonafter, Dodson was grabbed from behind. “No warning. No ‘You need to leave’ or anything. This person grabbed me from behind, full force, down a hallway through a heavy door and tossed me…”


What lurks inside of historic Trouts Bar?

Dodson claims bouncers threatened him while on the ground that if he didn’t leave they would call the sheriff. He also claims to have been injured that night. “I only received help when a gentleman in a white pick-up drove through the alleyway and saw me lying on the ground…”


The Dodson Letter: what does it really tell us?

A typical story of bar roughness? Perhaps. Perhaps not. I’m sure that doesn’t make Dodson’s knees feel any better. And the fact that he’s relating this story to me years after the occurrence tells me that some people are thinking about bar violence often.

As for me, I’ll still hit all my favorite venues and allow my kids to perform in safe all-age venues. Violence at bars is often the result of confrontations. Avoid confrontations and you can avoid the rare violence that can break out in such scenes. I also avoid some of these places on weekends, when I know the rougher crowds are in force. I’m mostly just interested in the music anyway.

Tav Cam Adventures: Part Two - By Norma Takahashi

A young lady wearing dirty old jeans and a flannel shirt walks across the street from the Tav Cam and stands by my desk for what seems like at least five minutes. I think she's with one of the salespeople so I don’t bother asking if she needs help. Then I figure she needs to use the restroom, or get some water from our water cooler, or even ask me for money. That happens a lot. I keep on working.

Minutes later I realize she's still just standing there. She looks kind of lost so I ask if I can be of service. She ignores me. Typical. I get that a lot. Or at least I THOUGHT she was ignoring me. About 30 to 45 seconds later, she sloooooooooowly turns her head towards me. It seems like an eternity before she finally turns all the way around to face me. When she finally does, she slowly opens her mouth to speak. It seems like a another five minutes before any words come out. With a blank look on her face she says, “Can I use your phone?” Oh oh, this can’t be good. An eerie feeling comes over me as I wonder what's going on.

I don’t let ANYBODY use my phone. I once let somebody use my phone and the mouthpiece stunk like Cheetos for hours after that. I even I wiped it down with an alcohol wipe. But the smell just wouldn’t go away. Another time somebody else used my phone I could smell their rotten bad breath and every time I answered my phone after that I felt their rotten, cavity infested teeth close to my very own mouth and almost threw up each time. THEN.. a different time, a customer asked me if she could make a “quick” call and she stayed ON MY PHONE gossiping for a long time. On the plus side I found out that someone named Jessica lost tons of weight and as it turns out, didn’t make her any prettier or any nicer. Meanwhile, my other lines rang and rang and she didn’t shorten the call or seem to care.

BUT I don’t want to be rude and say no, though. There is something obviously wrong and she needs a phone. So I do the next best thing. I direct her to somebody else's desk across from me and tell her she can use THAT phone. Ha! I secretly hope she has Cheeto breath. I go back to work and forget all about her. I get off work at 5:00 and so I’m trying to finish up what I’m doing so I can leave on time.

About thirty minutes later the coworker whose phone she was using comes up to me and whispers in my ear, “When the cops get here, please direct them straight across to that office and tell them the lady is in there.”

I ask, “What lady?”

No way it’s MY lady, right? How long could it possibly take to make a phone call? I thought she’d be long gone. I look over and sure enough, it’s the blank stare lady. And seriously, she’s just SITTING there, looking straight ahead, without blinking, or moving ONE time! Is she in shock? Did she recently experience some sort of trauma? Does she even know where she’s at? Will she remember me tomorrow? Obviously she’s on something and the managers can’t risk her making a scene or whatever. They tell us to stay away from her until the cops arrive so we do.

Minutes later, a lone police officer arrives, talks to her for about 10 minutes, then coaxes her to get up and walk out with him. “Goodbye lady. I think to myself, “I hope you find your peace.” Hopefully she is in rehab somewhere right now and she’s straightening her life out.

Read Tav Cam Adventures: Part One

Hectic Films begins Bakersfield Underground News Syndicate - By N.L. Belardes.com

Get ready for Bakersfield news, dirty duo style. It starts off kind of dry, but you'll get the humor pretty quick... they're at each other's throats. Almost literally.

Hectic Films are bringing sexy back - By N.L. Belardes

This is a must see.

Condolences to JoAnn's family in Ohio - By N.L. Belardes

Sad news hearing that a regular reader of this site has passed away. Condolences to the family of JoAnn. May the family find peace.

Note from regular reader and contributor, Norma:

I received news this morning that my friend JoAnn from Ohio passed away. (she's posted on my articles on your blog before... and on bakotopia.com) She called herself my "Buckeye" friend because of her love of college football. She had lung cancer which she'd beat.. then last week she told me that they'd found a spot on her lungs and she had an appt. on Monday for further testing. I never heard from her again so I called her house and her niece told me she collapsed in the doctor's office and passed away...

Rural Rock Punk makes the paper – By N.L. Belardes

Rural Rock Punk in Bakersfield?

I know, I know. I’m tooting my own horn. It’s good to see the phrase “Rural Rock Punk” being exposed to a wider audience in the article on The Filthies. Erik Loyd wrote in “Band holding its own against young(er) punks”:

This is The Other Bakersfield Sound. Instead of twangy Telecasters, silky pedal steel guitars and a country beat, The Other Bakersfield Sound is rude, aggressive, distorted and anything but country.

The Filthies deal in The Other Bakersfield Sound, or as the band's members like to call it, "rural rock punk."

Although band members of The Filthies and a few other local bands use the term, "Rural Rock Punk", it's important to note the term had its start by a local blogger/novelist. Me! Woo! OK, not to get all fancy, but I admit, Loyd is being bold by using the phrase, "The Other Bakersfield Sound". What does that phrase mean? Does it mean music that isn't country, or a new rural rock punk spin off telecasters? He does say it's "anything but country."

I've thought of using such a catch phrase, but I've always thought it best to wait for some resurgence in country music before launching into such phrasology. But who knows, Loyd used the phrase, and now let's see if that will catch on or if "Rural Rock Punk" will, or both!

Loyd wrote "Rural Rock Punk" in paragraph two, after three plugs for The Other Bakersfield Sound. But why am I really pointing this out? Several reasons. Reason #1: just because I want to piss off Heath Dobbler and Rob Shock of the IN-Denials (Read about those Rockers). They’re two local rural rock punkers of the highest caliber (They hate that term). But who knows, maybe they’ll come around…

Another reason is that Erik Loyd did a damn fine job with his article in the local ragalagadingdong. Sure, a few tidbits might have been left out. Remember, he doesn’t control the editing process. And yes, you have to love his call-out: “The Other Bakersfield Sound”. He’s trying to start a new catch phrase. I like that.

Let’s hope Loyd's phrase catches on with “Rural Rock Punk”. Or maybe I should just say The Other Bakersfield Sound is Rural Rock Punk…

Read a slew of Rural Rock Punk articles. You won’t regret it.

Oh, and catch The Filthies at B Ryders Jan. 19th, 8PM as they release Your Turn... or Dirty Spanglish at Backstage at the same time if you want an all-age venue (See the crazy flier). Darn I need to be two places at once again.

Written on an Alamo Tombstone: Remembering Bakersfield’s Padre Hotel - By Greg Goodsell

Padre Hotel, Bakersfield, California circa 2002

Now that the Random Times has folded, writer Greg Goodsell is once again in need of an outlet. Greg remembered that he can always submit stories to the Paperback Writer blog. You can too... just send me an email with your story attached: nl@nlbelardes.com.

I added a few photos I took in 2002 to add even more flare to Greg's article...
-n.l. belardes


Written on an Alamo Tombstone: Remembering Bakersfield’s Padre Hotel

By Greg Goodsell
E-mail: gregoodsell@hotmail.com

Younger people growing up in Bakersfield, to a certain extent, are missing out. To them, the Padre Hotel at the corner of 18th and "H" Streets is little more than an ugly gray building, shuttered long ago, jutting up into the heavens in the heart of downtown Bakersfield. If you’re an older Bakersfieldian such as this author, however, you remember the Padre Hotel as an ugly gray building, jutting up into the heavens in the heart of downtown Bakersfield teeming with all manner of scandalous and benign activity.

Constructed in 1928, the Padre retained the status of Bakersfield’s premiere bar, long after the hubbub and nightlife on Union Avenue (the professional birthplace of a young comic and magician named Johnny Carson -- hence all those snide comments on his late night TV chat show) died out in the Fifties. The hotel’s bar, the Town Casino hosted a girl in a swing, high in the rafters over revelers’ heads. At one point, a girl would cool her heels in a Lucite bathtub as patrons whispered naughty things in her ear through a telephone. At the piano was musician Ernie Kelly, a longtime hipster that at one point was voted "the most well-liked man in Bakersfield." A downtown fixture since 1946, Kelly would work the crowd with songs and jokes of a decidedly older vintage. Longtime Bakersfield residents recall the nights when lines of people would snake through the lobby waiting for a table to clear for a whiff of that Padre magic.

In the Sixties, the hotel was bought by Milton "Spartacus" Miller, a flamboyant cigar-chomping iconoclast falsely rumored to have connections to Chicago’s underworld. When City Hall slapped him with all manner of building and fire code violations, he did what most people did in the Sixties: he plastered protest signs all over his building. Slogans such as "Infamy rules our town!" and "Watergate is here!" screamed underneath the hotel’s windows in rusted red letters.

Most notorious was the decorating Miller did to the town’s roof. A mock missile was affixed in the direction of city hall, and the sign "Alamo Tombstone" was erected in protest. This phase of the hotel’s history can be glimpsed in a wall mural still extant at Guthrie’s Alley Cat.


Ah, the good old days...

As the years went on, Miller kept right on fighting City Hall and Kelly kept right on playing the piano. The clientele would always include older people who remembered the hotel’s glory days, but for the homophobic, the Town Casino would become known as a -- gasp! -- "gay bar." The bar was the one place in the somewhat provincial town of Bakersfield where all were welcome. Other watering holes would come and go, with their own brand of barflies. If you were a well-respected figure in the community, from one of Bakersfield’s most illustrious families, it wasn’t held against you at the Padre. You would get the same cocktail as the transvestite prostitute plying her wares in the lobby.

While the Padre was widely known for its impropriety, not many knew of its safe haven for sobriety. Scarfing down my breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant, I would spot many longtime friends of mine in the lobby’s morning Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. While I would hold court with buddies over copious amounts of liquor at night, I would later rekindle many old friendships at the Padre in the bright morning sun over cups of coffee.

It was said that underneath his gruff exterior, Spartacus could scarcely disguise his heart of gold. It was said that he would let many of the hotels less fortunate tenants skate by on their rent during lean periods.



A favorite pastime of this writer during the Nineties was gathering with friends on the Padre’s eighth-floor fire escape to drop our highball glasses on to the pavement below. Terrified by heights, but buzzing with several gin and tonics, I would watch as glasses fell with terrible inevitability to the ground through the grate underneath my feet. My frequently drunken escapades didn’t endear me to a few of the people in the bar, and for many I had worn out my welcome.

The Padre was also notorious as being a "lover’s leap" or suicide point as many full of self-pity and alcohol would throw themselves to oblivion from the hotel’s windows and fire escapes. One legend surrounding the hotel was the time a cowboy, jilted by his gay lover went rushing to meet the cement dressed in full western gear clutching a Teddy Ruxpin doll.

In one of the hotel’s more recent chapters, that will remain deliberately vague, certain forces conspired to wrest the ownership of the hotel away from the elderly and infirm Miller in the late Nineties. Miller died in 1999, and the hotel went through a period of ill adjustment with its new owners.

The hotel was eventually sold, and all of the regulars gathered at the Town Casino for one more go round in late November of 2001. One last drink, one last chorus of "Natural Woman" with pianist Dena Reynolds (who stepped in for the long-gone Ernie Kelly), a final tear shed for a local institution as the Town Casino closed forever.

It appears that scandal still dogs the Padre, even in its disused state. The San Diego-based firm Pacifica Enterprises began renovations on the hotel, sandblasting away all the gargoyles and character that the original building once had. Talk of making the hotel an upscale area for condominiums circulated.



But, hello -- what’s this? The San Joaquin Valley Air Pollution Control District and Kern County has filed a lawsuit against Pacifica Enterprises for hiring untrained workers to illegally dispose of the hotel’s asbestos in open landfills! Sad to say, this is keeping in with the structure’s longtime brushes with authority. Only this time, no one is able to enjoy the atmosphere of what once was Bakersfield’s premiere hotspot. The Padre today remains boarded up, a few stray businesses still operating on the ground floor.

Hope springs eternal. The Nile Theater, just around the corner on 19th Street was little more than a just place for pigeon droppings until one plucky entrepreneur rolled up his shirtsleeves and transformed the former grind house into a bustling state-of-the-art nightclub.

Sadly, whatever shape the Padre may take in the future -- as a ritzy hub of downtown activity or as a literal Alamo tombstone -- the hotel this writer remembers will have to stay forever as a happy, inebriated memory.

Pimpin' Dirty Spanglish - By N.L. Belardes

This is one of my favorite fliers I've ever made for my kid's band.

Check it out:

The Random Times stops the presses - By N.L. Belardes

With only the cryptic words, "The R.T. is officially shut down," posted on a bakotopia.com blog, I can only guess as to what happened. I did read a recent blog entry that discussed the fate of the paper. The Random Times only lasted for two issues.

I phoned Matt Munoz at Bakotopia, but he was archiving his computer files and wasn't aware of the news story. Thanks to Matildakay for the tip.

Anyway, may the Random Times rest in peace.

Bakersfield novelist floats in to see the IN-Denials at the Silver Fox Bar - By N.L. Belardes

Rob Shock, Heath Dobbler and L.A. Rick of the IN-Denials

Recently I went out on a busy Saturday night. I don’t get paid to get my blog on. That means no managers, supervisors, etc. So sometimes I just float around depending on whims or where friends are going. Originally I set out to hopefully catch both Swag 667 and the IN-Denials, both performed at two different venues. I was caught in one of those situations where I couldn’t be everywhere at once and was hoping time schedules would work out. It was Swag’s big return to the scene. Billy Von and the boys were excited to be rocking Bakersfield again… I know they’re having more shows, so I’ll be catching them soon.

I also heard Hayesfield was having a CD release party the same night, and Jerry’s Pizza was hosting Stereotactic. Hell, if I could cut myself into quarters and melt into all four music zones…



In the end I had a long-running promise to myself to see the IN-Denials. After I arrived at Backstage I realized Swag was performing last. I was bummed. Once again I missed Stitch too as I found out they were performing first. Everything was running late. It was 8:40 and the gig was supposed to start at 8. Not that I cared that the gig was running late. I just wanted to squeeze in one band before the IN-Denials. Wasn’t happening.

Regretfully I bailed and headed over to the Silver Fox and hung out with some punk friends: Rob Shock, his wife, Gus McFuss, Matildakay, Mike Generic and others. I grabbed a margarita and hung out, waiting for the music to start shakin’.


Matildakay and Gus McFuss

That’s when Dobbler arrived. He’s a mean SOB punk singer with glasses thick as mine. Only he looks like he’d beat someone’s ass for saying he’s got Coke bottle lenses. I’d read Heath’s take on the punk scene a few weeks ago. It wasn’t too uplifting, though there was a lot of truth to what he had to say. Is punk dead? Hell no. Is it dying? Fuck no. Go check out what Heath has to say in his article "What happened to the punk scene?" Maybe there's just a limp dick wilt to the scene and the support it gets...


Rocking Bakersfield's Silver Fox Bar

Like I was saying, Dobbler is a son of a bitch and he knows it. He talks shit, means well, and has a really fucking cool band with songs that are catchy as hell. Almost as soon as he arrived he geared up his bass beast for some punk grinding by the jukebox.


Needs ketchup

That’s when Donny arrived. He’s a punk fan, a bit tipsy, very annoying, a big fan, a scene stealer, microphone grabber; a low-pants wearing punk lover who came to show the audience what it means to worship punk music. He grabbed The IN-Denials’ microphone more than once and screamed, “This is a song about Bakersfield!” Then he went into a maniacal rant that I can’t even remember. Dobbler dedicated at least two songs to him and Rob Shock was sure to say just as often: “Leave the microphone alone!” (Click here to read Dobbler's report on the gig and see a pic of Donny!)

My favorite song of the night? “The Iraqis Win The Pennant.” Damn if that wasn’t a catchy fucking tune. They could have played that song three times back to back and I wouldn’t have thrown one empty glass at Heath’s head.

I did have a second margarita. But since Donny had his hand down his pants and grabbed my glass, I suddenly lost my taste for salt.

Back to my story.

Yeah, I know I’ve given Dobbler some shit. But his band the IN-Denials has some foot-stompin' tunes. I’m half deaf and couldn’t hear Rob Shock’s guitar licks well enough, but that’s OK. I heard the vocals pretty well; and that’s not something you always hear in the ol’ Silver Fox Bar.

The IN-Denials are a great addition to the Bakersfield punk scene. They add a sense of sarcasm and rock and roll that makes you realize liberals and conservatives can get together, rock and sing about issues as only punks can... I'll break bread with them again that's for sure.


Rob Shock writes a blog. Read it.

I should add that the 28s were also in the house. I made sure to get a CD of the 15-song album What A Joke from Clay Pigeon which I have been spinning at work… I’ll hold off talking about them and give you a report…


"Let go of the fuggin' mic, Donny!"

Oh I should add that the IN-denials are in the studio recording a joint album with The 28s. Sounds like a killer plan. I wish they’d hurry their shit up. But if you know Heath, he’s probably too choked up from his Steelers performing like shit to get his vocals straight. In the meantime, the IN-Denials are performing with The Filthies at B Ryders January 19th for the Your Turn CD kick-off. Go see them. You won’t regret a great evening in Bakersfield. What else are you going to do? Masturbate to American Idol?

Small fire on Forrest Street - By N.L. Belardes

Seems I’ve stumbled onto a lot of fires lately. There was the fire on Highway 58 and the Christmas Tree fire. Then there was the aftermath of the H Street fire right around the corner from where I live, and within 24 hours a fire on Bakersfield's Forrest Street.

I wasn’t too concerned about seeing fire engines pull onto Forrest Street Monday night. There are always ambulance and fire trucks zooming past, and often stopping at a certain apartment complex. You never know about these things. It could be some little old lady having panic attacks and calling 911 every two days for her bunions. You just never know.

So when I saw the fire engines, I peeked outside, and thought, Oh here we go again. I did want to stretch my legs. So I walked outside. Still not really caring about what was going on down the street I walked in the general direction of the flashing lights.

I thought I saw barbecue flames. Just then I realized the fire department was en route to put out some flames that were away from the apartments. Before I could even get close enough they had the fire out. You only have seconds to cover events sometimes. No biggie. I got to stretch my legs and no one was hurt and no property damages. Just another weird event on Forrest Street.

Video:


The fire is just a plume of smoke

Will Bakersfield band The Filthies new album Your Turn shake up the pop punk world? - By N.L. Belardes

Hungry and crazy for a new pop punk scene? It's right here...

If the album Your Turn is any indication of what’s to come in 2007 from The Filthies, then I’m going to stop packing my bags right now. Forget moving to Delano to start a Mexican bakery, I’m in for the long haul.

There I was a few nights ago perfecting my own pan de leche mixture, dreaming of delightful pastries and a new Fisher Price baking oven when I screamed, “I want music, good music, and lots of it! I want pop punk Green Day mind-bending energy. I want to hear a Blink 182 edge and some rural rock punk licks straight from the heart of Bakersfield! I want pop punk that can infect my soul!”

At that point I pulled the buns out of the oven.<