Making Nice On The Playground

"Meet me under the 1300 sign!" my friend Chris shouted into the cellphone. It was hard to hear her over the din in the background. As my daughter and I made our way down the stairs, we stepped into the grown up playground that is San Diego's annual Comic Con.

When I was a young child, I spoke only Spanish but I was taught to read in English and I supplemented my reading lessons with comic books. The colorful pictures helped me understand the nuances of this second language better than any textbook and increased my English vocabulary. Richie Rich, Little Lotta, Hot Stuff, The Archies and Little Dot became my at-home language tutors. When I had learned enough English to feel comfortable, I went back and taught myself to read and write in Spanish using Mexican comic books and photonovelas. Memin Pinguin and Novelas de Amor were my favorites. Comic books provided the bilingual education that was lacking in my grammar school.

But back to the playground. My friend Chris was a real Comic Con superstar. She knitted her own Wonder Woman costume and was unable to walk more than two feet at a time without someone stopping to compliment her or wanting to take her picture. It was fun basking in her glory. Here's a picture of her being taped for The Tonight Show.

Wonder Woman Chris at Comic Con -08, photo courtesy of Mondo Rick-o.

We spent the first hour in the playground just looking at costumes. The level of creativity was off the charts. My daughter dressed as a character from Gaia Online and wore a blue wig, even though I tried to talk her into bleaching and dyeing her own hair blue. She said she didn't want to damage her hair and I told her "hair is dead anyway." But I digress. The costumes were amazing; people must plan this stuff all year long. My own posse included Gaia's Timmy, Wonder Woman and Sailor Mars. I was not in costume (what a noob!) but I saw Chewbacca, several Jedi, a Wonder Woman outfit made entirely out of duct tape, super heroes of every shape, size and color from all over the galaxy and people out of costume standing in the crowded convention hall, holding signs reading “free hugs” or “free high-fives.” My daughter went for the hugs and I took the high-fives. My girlfriends passed on these freebies, but I have to say they missed out. The exchange made me smile. The guy holding the free hugs sign had a huge, silly grin on his face all day. Hugging strangers, what a concept.

My posse split up to attend different presentations. My daughter wanted to see Lynda Barry and my husband got out of work early to join us and attend the Ghost Hunters panel. I walked my kid to Lynda Barry's conference room, planning to join my husband in line for the Ghost Hunters presentation, but when we saw the line extending out the door and around the building, we decided to see Lynda Barry instead. It was a fortuitous decision.

From Lynda Barry's book, What It Is.

I am so glad we got to see Lynda Barry, who was very funny and wise. Her presentation not only had the audience in stitches, it was truly inspiring. She talked about the importance of play and of allowing ourselves to approach creativity in the way a child approaches play, without evaluation, simply enjoying the process. She also talked about editing and self-editing, explaining how we do it constantly in our own lives. Those occasions when we think back and say “Oh, I wish I'd said this or done that,” and we think of something much more clever to say or do and replay the scene in our heads with the new action or dialogue – that's self editing. She explained that it's a necessary part of our mental health.

Lynda's comments hit close to home because earlier that afternoon, I'd been talking to my friend Jane Wiedlin who was promoting her upcoming comic book, Lady Robotika.


Lady Robotika photo by Bonnie Burton.

While I walked away to meet my husband, some guys went over to Jane and started interviewing her. When I came back with my hubby, he waved from a distance, not wanting to interrupt the interview. “Where's Alice?” she called. She playfully dragged me into her interview, but I can't be witty at a moment's notice. In fact, talking into a microphone is a million times harder for me than singing into one. I edit myself to the point of muteness. It's strange, but as I've gotten older, I've tried to stop and think before speaking or taking action. This keeps me out of trouble, but doesn't make for an especially interesting interview. Sorry, Jane.

Sometimes, it is necessary to edit. For example, a couple of days ago, a woman in a car cut off my daughter and me as we were crossing a parking lot. I had to keep myself from throwing something at the car, as I have done in the past. I kept Violence Girl in check but later, I edited my response in my mind. I threw my car keys at her, or spat on her car, or followed her and smacked her, but in reality I didn't do any of it and I'm sure my daughter was happy about that. She and my husband have taken to calling me “EeeeeevA” after the character in the movie Wall-E (she is quick to blast things that startle or annoy her.) I'm a grown up now and have to play nice most of the time, at least when the kids are looking. But Lynda Barry got me thinking that you don't always have to play nice; sometimes it's O.K. to be a smart aleck kid, even if you're nearly fifty.

Special highlights of the day for me included:

• Admiring Sergio Aragones from behind a crush of his fans. Sr. Aragones warped my impressionable young mind with his pantomime cartoons for Mad Magazine.

• Hearing Lynda Barry sing “You Are My Sunshine” without moving her lips. I wanted to give her a standing ovation, but edited myself.

• Meeting Al Jaffee, who was a co-conspirator with Sergio Aragones in the warping of my mind.

• Watching Chris be a Rock Star.

• Ninja kissing Jane Wiedlin.

I still read comic books, but my Mad subscription expired (hint to hubby). I gravitate more towards graphic novels these days, here are a few of my favorites:

Buddha Series by Osamu Tezuka

Adolf Series by Osamu Tezuka

Hino Horror series by Hideshi Hino

Maus 1 & 2 by Art Spiegelman

Persepolis 1 & 2 by Marjane Satrapi

Evangelion Series by Yoshiyuki Sadamoto

Ranma ½ Series by Rumiko Takahashi

Pan Dulce de Mi Corazon and SF Travelogue

I had written a long, detailed description of my recent trip to San Francisco, but it started sounding a bit like any other tourist's travelogue with the exception that I focused more on food than most tourists, save perhaps Anthony Bourdain, so I decided I should write about something else. As I started my second concha and Silk, I was finding it increasingly difficult to type between mouthfuls. My hands get a little crumby and truthfully I don't eat to nourish, I eat to savor - so I was getting distracted by the ecstasy dissolving in my mouth. I found it hard to focus on Haight Ashbury, Alcatraz, or even the wonderful Frida Kahlo exhibit at SF MOMA. All I could think about was pan dulce, or Mexican sweet bread.




My love affair with pan dulce goes back to my childhood in East L.A., of course. When I was a teenager, there was a period where I subsisted on a diet of nothing more than pan dulce and milk for breakfast and chicken gumbo for linner (lunch/dinner). That diet, along with daily Kung Fu lessons, helped me lose a lot of weight but I wouldn't recommend it to anyone. Imagine my delight when a few months ago, my husband and I discovered a little panaderia fairly close to our house in San Diego that has now become the supplier for my addiction. I go there at least twice a week and I have yet to taste a piece of pan that hasn't been delicious. The elotes are my favorites: they're shaped like a piece of corn in its little silk coat and are usually lightly sprinkled with sugar (editor's note: Alice uses the phrase "lightly sprinkled" interchangeably with "coated with" here.) I like the standard elotes but they make two or three variations of them here. Cocodrilos are a close cousin to elotes, as far as flavor and appearance go. They're long and appear to have scales; sometimes I go for those just so my family doesn't accuse me of getting the same thing all the time. My kids and my mom were always partial to conchas, which are light, puffy pastries with a crumbly hard, sweet topping applied to resemble a conch outline. They usually come in vanilla, chocolate or strawberry. My husband is an ojos de buey man - I mean that's the kind of pan dulce he likes. He does not have ox eyes, which is what ojos de buey means. In some places, Ojos de Buey are a completely different concoction and the coconutty red jam ball my hubby likes goes by the name of Yoyo in those places, because it resembles a fat yoyo much more than an ox eye.

There are more types of pan dulce than I can name: from Orejas de Elefante to Cochinitos, the selection is enormous. Fortunately, you don't have to know the names to sample their supreme yumminess. In a recent Yelp review, I read someone who described the pan dulce they loved as looking like a vulva. Well, I went over to Panchitas Panaderia that day, found the vulva looking pan and discovered that it was indeed one of the best pieces I'd had. If you haven't had pan dulce from anywhere but the grocery store, you owe it to yourself to seek out your neighborhood panaderia. Get a little taste of the glory.

As for my San Francisco trip, it was lots of fun. My husband was working, so my daughter and I were on our own for most of our adventures. We got Muni passes and went all over town like good little tourists. We walked until our feet throbbed then walked some more just so we could squeeze in as much fun as possible out of our vacation. We walked up the Filbert steps to the top of Telegraph Hill and then went up to the top of Coit Tower and I was glad that god invented cortisone injections for my bum knee. We went to City Lights and Cafe Trieste and saw an excellent Frida Kahlo exhibit at SF MOMA. My daughter got a kick out of the fact that this still life, which Frida painted as a gift, was considered so pornographic that the recipient refused to hang it in her home.



I suppose all of this goes to show that the connection between food and sexuality is fairly strong in Mexican culture - remember "Like Water For Chocolate"? My daughter and I ate our way through San Francisco at inexpensive little holes in walls like the Theater Two Cafe that was literally hidden behind a temporary plywood wall due to construction; we skewered tasty marinated tofu at the funky Asqew Grill in Haight Asbury. We packed so much into our little vacation that I was happy to get home and relax!

Punk Pictorial

I've just posted some new photos to my website/Flickr gallery pre-punk and punk galleries. While in the process of archiving our collection, we're trying to post high resolution copies of as many photos and documents as possible so that anyone who is interested can access this material through the website. Here are a few samples along with my commentaries:



"Joanie (top - Black Randy's main squeeze), Shannon (left) and I used to play dress up and take photo booth pictures when we were bored. Here Shannon is trying out a new hairdo. It goes well with that maniacal expression, don't you think?"



"Another shot of The Bags walking down Hollywood Blvd. Joe Nanini's doll looks obscene! Those green bubble tights have a crotch panel that makes my thighs look lumpy and I think Janet Koontz is having some serious misgivings about this band right around now. Patricia looks cool and Geza..."



"At the Canterbury. Lise looking new wave, me, happy to cut Terry's throat, Joanie thinking she can do it quicker and Terry Graham in the throes of ecstacy. Note the Fonz poster in the background. Someday, someone's going to make a punk sitcom just like Happy Days. Who will be the punk Fonz?"

Punk Summer Reading List

With the renewed interest in the history of American punk, there are many new books popping up, so many that it can be overwhelming and confusing at times. As with any history, getting the most complete and balanced information means seeking various sources rather than relying on just one or two "experts." Some of the books that I've come across lately are worth a special mention because they tell the story of the very early and very unique punk scene in Los Angeles.



A while back, a couple of friends brought over their copy of Live at The Masque: Nightmare in Punk Alley, which was written by Brendan Mullen and features photos by several of the original scene photographers. As I flipped through the pages of this punk year book, I was transported back to my crazy, fun teen years. There are lots and lots of candid photos and the general mood of those first few months of the Hollywood punk scene really comes across. Brendan and I have had our differences lately and even though I'm mad at him right now, I have to say that this is an excellent book and a must have for anyone who was there or who is interested in understanding what went on at the Masque when we thought no one was looking.



Punk Pioneers by Jenny Lens is far and away the most awesome coffee table quality book about the early punk scene. The book, published by Rizzoli/Universe, contains an incredible range of artists that were around during punk's conception, birth, and childhood. Its scope is much broader and helps the reader understand where punk was coming from and what was going on in the parallel musical universes of bands like Van Halen and artists like Bob Marley. I think this aspect of Jenny's book is really important, because as I've said time and time again, seeing early punk in isolation does not really convey how far it was from the mainstream nor does it acknowledge the influences of what came before it. Jenny's book acknowledges the New York punk and early glam bands that set the stage for what would become a unique West Coast cultural movement. Punk Pioneers cements Jenny's status as punk photography's Alpha Bitch.


Finally, I'd like to say a little about a book a friend of mine made. Louis Jacinto is a talented photographer who has the largest collection of Bags photographs that I've ever seen. Louis approached me several times about collaborating on a book with him and although I love his photos, I just never found the time to sit down and write a book. But Louis would not give up. He kept writing to me and finally I suggested that he write his own narrative and takes quotes from my blog for his book. Well, at my Eastside Luv show a couple of weeks ago, Louis surprised me with the book he self-published. I love his D.I.Y. attitude! The book contains great photos of The Bags with quotes from my Diary of a Bad Housewife blog and various interviews I've done. The blog excerpts are odd for me to read because I know there is a complete blog entry that goes with those quotes. Luckily, Louis does send people to my website (thanks Louis!) so they can get the whole story if they feel like it. But to tell you the truth, the real stars are the photos. Louis deserves all the credit for making this book happen. So, if you want to see some cool Bags pictures, check out his book The Bags, from Onodream Press.

I know I've mentioned Punk 365 before, but it also features several of the best photographers of the time and is well worth investigating.

Book Reports are due at the end of summer : )

The Real Victory

I spoke to my 13 year-old daughter on the phone yesterday as I sat waiting for my plane at Sea-Tac airport. I had to figure out how to explain to her why our candidate was pulling out of the Presidential race and what it meant to us. Not that we hadn't been through something similar before; she still remembers voting for Al Gore in her elementary school's mock elections and learning that her candidate had lost in the real elections. It was a big disappointment (he had won at her school), but this year was different.

As with many families across the nation, this year's race for the Democratic nomination had become very personal. My husband supports Barack Obama and my daughter and I were backing Hillary, while the paternal grandparents are going for McCain. Over the past few months, we have found ourselves in many a family squabble over the qualifications and shortcomings of our respective candidates, so hearing that our candidate was out of the race hit us hard. It was not really a surprise. Although we were always hopeful, we knew we were fighting an uphill battle. Still, I had the feeling as I spoke to my daughter that she was waiting for me to say something to reassure her that this was not the end.

"What do we do now?" was the question she finally asked.

"We keep going. We make a little progress at a time and we keep going," I said to her. We were both talking about the same thing, not just the presidential election, which of course we will continue to participate in, but about our struggle to break through the glass ceiling. Hearing Hillary Clinton's speech in which she reassures her supporters that we have made "18 million cracks in the glass ceiling" was inspirational. It was just what we needed to hear. We didn't need to hear that our candidate didn't win, nor that we now need to throw our support behind the presumptive Democratic candidate, but that our candidate and millions of her supporters still recognize that women have not only "Come a long way, baby," but still have a long way to go. Thanks to this campaign, we're a little closer and that in itself is a victory.

Putting the focus on women's issues is a victory too. Hillary was much more than a women's candidate. I truly believe she was the best qualified candidate, regardless of class, race or gender. Even my husband learned to respect her tenacity and resilience. In debates, she was focused, articulate and quick-thinking. She has inspired me. I've never seen a fighter take so many punches and still keep getting up. When I told an interviewer for CBS-TV in NY that I thought Hillary and punk music went together well because Hillary is hardcore, this is what I meant. Hillary never backed down. She took her punches like a woman, as strong and as big as Sojourner Truth. Can you imagine those two in a slam pit? Look out, all those who doubt! I am reminded of a speech Sojourner Truth made so long ago, at the Women's Convention in 1851: "If the first woman God ever made was strong enough to turn the world upside down all alone, these women together ought to be able to turn it back and get it right side up again! And now they is asking to do it, the men better let them." Now that's Hardcore!


American Sabor: Latinos in U.S. Popular Music

Hillary's concession speech was even more poignant and meaningful to me because of the history I've learned recently from participating in two museum exhibitions: "Vexing: Female Voices From East L.A. Punk" at the Claremont Museum of Art (which I've written about previously) and "American Sabor: Latinos In U.S. Popular Music," currently on display at the Experience Music Project in Seattle, WA. I was invited to fly out and view the exhibit along with my friend, Teresa Covarrubias. Teresa and I also had the privilege of facilitating a class last Friday at the University of Washington. I think it was a wonderful learning experience for all concerned. As with the Vexing show, albeit on a much larger scale, I was able to immerse myself in the history of Latino musicians and artists who have contributed to popular culture and music. Many of these artists often worked in semi-obscurity and achieved minimal mainstream recognition. Others are internationally recognized.

One of the most rewarding aspects of participating in these exhibitions and symposiums for me is hearing directly from young female artists that my own music inspired them in some way. It reminds me that the real victory is sometimes not in the "winning" or in mainstream success, but is most often in the doing and in the legacy one leaves for future generations. Progress and societal change are part of a continuum. Seeing and hearing the amazing contributions of so many Latina/o artists who came before me and in many ways, paved the way for me to take chances in my own music was truly inspiring, perhaps in the same way Hillary Clinton has now inspired my own teenage daughter.

So thank you, Hillary. Thank you for fighting the good fight.

Unearthing Bagasaurus Rex

More stuff from the archives today, a vintage Bags flyer from the infamous Trashing of The Troubadour show (uploaded in high resolution to my Flickr page) and a couple more audio files, courtesy of the folks at Artifix, who originally surfaced these and brought them to our attention. I believe these live recordings are from 1978 at the Hong Kong Cafe, but I am not certain. The first song is our cover of the old standard, "That's Life," popularized by Frank Sinatra, but more specifically, this is a cover of a cover. Actually, it's a cover of a popular TV commercial from the 1970's for Sanyo home electronics which featured a pretty, glamorous actress named Susan Anton singing the tag line, "that's life, that's what people say...Sanyooooo!" Obviously, it sounded nothing like the Bags' version. It's immediately followed by a version of TV Dinner, much different from the version which was released on the Live At The Masque cd.

These bootleg recordings are very raw and we cleaned them up as well as we could. Enjoy!

The Bags - Sanyo Theme/TV Dinner-Mp3

Rummaging Through The Archives

I'm in the process of archiving some of my personal collection of photos, flyers, clippings, video and audio recordings from my various bands and musical projects. It's a daunting task and we are taking it a little at a time. The plan is for this material to eventually be archived at UCLA, but my husband is frustrated because he would like to scan it all and put it up on the website, only he doesn't have the time. Here's a vintage Bags flyer for a show at the Masque in January 1978.




As we were sorting through some of the boxes tonight, we came across a disc labeled "Bags Recordings" which no doubt had surfaced during the search for material for the Artifix Records LP, All Bagged Up. Some decent bootleg recordings of the Bags performing live, probably in 1979, were on that disc. My husband corrected the speed because the original source tape was warped and the results will be posted on my media pages for anyone wishing to listen.

Here's the Bags doing our cover version of the Standells' song, "Sometimes Good Guys Don't Wear White."

Left click HERE to play in your browser OR RIGHT CLICK AND "save file as" to download the song to your desktop!

Women In L.A. Punk Part XXVI - Hudley Flipside

Hudley Flipside's interview came about completely by chance. My husband happened to notice a message on the Masque MySpace page that seemed to be directed to me. I should clarify that I have nothing to do with the MySpace Masque page. I conduct these interviews with women who were involved in the early LA Punk scene for my own website, but I haven't been in contact with most of the interview subjects in over 25 years and I don't usually try to track people down for interviews. They typically happen by chance, just like this one.


Hudley Flipside

Hudley's interview also differs from the norm in that she chose to completely disregard the question and answer format I sent to her. That's great, because I encourage all of my interview subjects to go off topic and write at length and Hudley took me at my word. Her expressed desire for total freedom is as close to the essence of what punk meant for many of us in the early L.A. scene.

Click on the Women In Punk thumbnail to read the interview with Hudley Flipside.

The Road To (and From) Claremont

With the opening reception of the Vexing exhibit behind me, I'd like to say a little about the way in which this experience has changed and is continuing to change me. Colin Gunckel and Pilar Tompkins put on a very ambitious exhibition, both in scope and depth. It reached out with long arms to people whose relevance to the East LA music scene was not obvious and thus sparked controversy; it plunged deeply into virginal archives to illustrate the beauty and creativity of an under-appreciated music and art scene.


Points of Departure, an installation by Jessee V. and Colin Gunckel, currently on display at the Claremont Museum of Art.

The road to Claremont was a difficult one for me. On one side of the LA River, I was perceived by some as betraying the Hollywood scene. To quote part of a nasty email: "I think it's kind of creepy that you'd sell out the old scene just to be down with a couple of dink bands." On the other side of the LA River, there was much discussion about who should be included in the show and which participants were perceived as outsiders.


Detail from "Do The Math", a 10' x 50' paint on canvas installation by Diane Gamboa.


To top it all off, there was an undercurrent of denial of the racist and sexist landscape against which punk played out. My statement to the LA Times that by 1979, some Eastside musicians felt that the Hollywood punk scene was closed and unwelcoming was seen as an attack on the integrity of that scene, despite the fact that some of the individuals interviewed in the Women in Punk section of my website mentioned that they themselves had difficulty breaking into the LA punk scene in the late seventies. The fact that Eastsiders were making the same assertion was interpreted as an accusation of racism and I was accused of "playing the race card."

I found this very insulting, so I deliberately set out to get some answers by questioning some of my friends who had frequented the Vex. I wanted to find out who had and who hadn't experienced racism in the LA Punk scene. Not surprisingly, the results were mixed: some people had racism to report while others did not, which only seems to prove that racism was not more concentrated in the punk scene than it was in the general population; neither was it completely absent. Some people felt it and some didn't. Unfortunately, that was a bit of a myth buster for some, who wanted to believe the Hollywood scene was a utopia. Even though I frequently say that I didn't feel discriminated against, my experiences are my own. I will not deny anyone the right to point out discrimination by belittling their experiences with a dismissive phrase like "playing the race card." This response is insulting and only discourages people from shedding light on discrimination. Racism is not a game to be played, nor is there any real victory to be won by bringing it into an argument. If whatever argument you are trying to make is predicated on perceived racial favoritism or discrimination, it's legitimacy will be called into question, so most people I know will avoid bringing race into the discussion at all. Many Latinos I know would rather deal with racism in quieter ways, precisely because they don't want to be accused of playing the race card. And that is how accusing people of playing the race card effectively silences anyone from bringing up issues of racism and supports the status quo.

The fact that the Vexing show ignited this discussion is a great thing. That is what art is supposed to do: challenge people, provoke, and raise uncomfortable questions. A week after the show opened, there is a new article in the LA Times where the question of racism in the LA punk scene is still being explored. This Vexing show has been like a much needed enema, so let's get all the shit out of our systems and see what happens.


Lysa Flores, Alice Bag and Gaby Godhead live at Vexing opening show, 5/17/08, photo by fauxtografer.

Being involved with the show has made me realize that even though I wasn't a regular at the Vex, the East LA scene did not exist in a vacuum. Hollywood's punk scene preceded it and other music scenes preceded that one. Like Tenochtitlan, where each culture is built upon a previous one, each artist, whether or not he or she knows it, builds upon a foundation that stood before them. Thank you to the young artists who helped me understand that. Thank you to the curators, who believed in the validity of my place in East LA punk history before I did. Thank you to my friends, who shared their previously untold experiences of racism with me. Thank you to all of those who continue to challenge me, disagree and/or agree with me; you make the road to and from Claremont a fruitful one.

Cholita and Las Tres

In the aftermath of last Saturday's Vexing performance, a few videos of that night's show appeared on YouTube, one of which I posted in my previous blog entry. But as I was checking YouTube for updates, I came across a couple of rare videos of two of the projects I was involved in during the early 1990's, Cholita and Las Tres.

If you went to the Vexing show, you might have read about some of the various bands I've been involved with over the past 30 years, including Castration Squad, Cambridge Apostles, Stay at Home Bomb and of course, Las Tres and Cholita. I've usually been drawn towards projects that are female based or in some way different and challenging to the status quo. Las Tres and Cholita both fit those criteria.

Cholita was more of a performance art project than a real band and this video for "No Controles" was shot at MacArthur Park (just a few blocks away from where Fertile LaToya Jackson and I were teaching elementary school!) Cholita was more conceptual at this point, and we lip-synced to Flans' hit single. Later, we performed our own version of this song as well as Cholita originals such as Chinga Tu Madre, Beans Are Not Enough and Size (Has Nothing To Do With Performance). The lineup in this video is Vaginal Davis as Graciela, Fertile LaToya Jackson as Guadalupe, Alice Bag as Sad Girl and Annette (I'm drawing a blank on her stage name.)


No Controles video courtesy of Quasi. Thank you Quasi! Now Ms. Davis can't get mad at me for posting this!


The second video is of Las Tres performing the song "Nuevo Amanecer" at what looks like a college campus, probably in the early 1990's, roughly at the same time as I was in Cholita. The two couldn't be more different, but they both challenged societal expectations. The lineup for Las Tres in this video is Angela Vogel, Teresa Covarrubias, me, Paul Perez and Daoud.



Nuevo Amanecer video courtesy of Young American Video, thank you for posting it!