Father's Day

Today is Father's Day and that has me thinking so many things at once.
I love my daughter's, who are too young to get Father's Day, but to me, they make everyday like Father's Day.
As far as the traditional things that are supposed to happen on this day, it won't be like that here. I'll still be the primary parent all day and the one that takes care of the house, kids etc.
But that's ok, because soon, I won't have these other people here, and that will be very hard.
Housework will be nothing, but not seeing my little girls go to bed every night should be the worst thing a father can face, other than the loss of a child.

I know alot of "dad's" these days, are not up to the job, but to me, being a father is what keeps me breathing. It get's me up in the morning and it wraps itself around me, every waken moment.

My Dad, well, he died almost 20 years ago from Cancer.
But he was never in my life much. My parents split when I was four and I only saw him sporadically throughout the year. Maybe twice at the most, but I still remember my Dad and Mom together. Something my younger brother will never know.
My Dad and I were buddies. I was his favorite, by far, and he made every moment that he was there worth it by treating me like I was his favorite.
We'd go to "the pop shop" (the bar) together when I was a kid and I'd play pool with the other regulars.
When I was older, he'd take me to Pro Wrestling events, hockey games, etc.
I remember that when my parents were together, my dad would come home and make me find the treat he'd always have, usually a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup, which I still love today.

When I was in the Army we wrote more than I did with anyone else, and afterward, we did a few small construction jobs together.
My Dad was rugged, a tough Norwegian brick layer who took no shit, and never backed down from speaking his mind.
But he was a drinker, and that led to the end of his marriage to my Mom and ultimately the cancer that took him.

I remember him coming over when I was about 9, and talking to my Mom while I hid on the stairs. He gotten pulled over, was drunk and beat the crap out of the two Cops and split. Back then, they didn't call your plate in before they stopped you so he never got caught for that.
My Dad also never disciplined me as a kid. That was my Mom's job. One night, before they split, I was four, my brother one, My Mom had gone out and he fell asleep so my brother and I decided to make a cake..... on the kitchen floor...... with every and anything we could open from the fridge and cabinets, then we put ourselves to bed.
I think I still have marks from the beating I got over that.

When my Dad died, I hadn't seen him much that last year, and My mom told me I best go before it was too late. I couldn't comprehend anything beating my Dad, so I was slammed when I saw him, in a hospital bed they had in the house. Frail, weak, old, looking (he was 56 but looked 100), he looked dead already. His wife woke him and asked if he knew who I was. With alot of effort, he raised his head and whisperd "my boy."

I cried that night in my girlfriends arms and a few hours later he was gone. Funny, I had premonitions for two weeks and that night, about 4AM, something dramatic happened in my room. I was momentarily paralyzed by a white "light" that lasted a split second and shook me up badly. A few hours later, the phone rang.
I never shed a tear again, until just now actually, nor did I ever visit his grave, but once soon after. I couldn't find it now if I had too.
But, I wonder if he watches me now. See's my kids, my hardships. Knows my secrets and my joys.
I hope he's not too disappointed.

I love you Dad. And I miss you alot. I wish you were here because I could really use you in my life right now.

Happy Father's Day!

So who is this mysterious "HipKat"?

OK, so I'm copying from my MySpace and editing, but it's still relevant stuff, if I'm to start this blog off right.


To say that life goes on is one big misrepresentation of life. Life does not just "go on." That's an insult to life.
Life goes on and on, for sure, but along the way, it takes it's share of victims. It waits until your eyes are closed and then it buries the steel right up to the hilt.
It twists the blade and then plucks out the bleeding heart it had so perfectly impaled. It shows it to you, and then it drops it, so carelessly on the ground at your feet and dares you to pick it up.
Then life grabs you by the throat and drags you along with it, as it "goes on."
It drags you down the bumpiest road it can find, and it doesn't skip over one, as your battered self bleeds from the contusions.
Then, right when you know you're taking your last breath, it gives you CPR, nutures you part of the way back, and starts over again, dragging you on, endlessly.
The worst part is that as you reach out for one hand to grab hold of, they pull away from you, one by one, until you realize that you're alone.

Life is so not fair. My eyes were not closed. They were open, but I did not see, which is worse than just having them closed.
I didn't see the damage that was being done, and I took life for granted. My illness doesn't come up in hospital emergency rooms. It doesn't get talked about at conventions. It's not in text books. My illness is me. I'm my own worst enemy. I know that. And since enemies are to be destroyed, how can I? Because this is one, I've definitely been keeping closer than my friends.
What an outrage, to be in the middle of the field, and realize that I'm the only one holding the ball. Too late though as I threw it home.....



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After a youth of hellishness, I emerged from that and joined the Army. It was there that I discovered my love of playing live music, hanging and drumming with a band called Roxx.

Several years as an Iron Worker, living and working all over the country, I returned to Buffalo in the late 80's, and ended up singing in VOA. At the time, I was hanging out with alot of the local bands, Rockcandy being the biggest. The Buffalo scene was really active, and the bands were making good money, and more than not were very good. We were pretty much the best practice band ever, practicing and writing for about four years and actually playing one show, we were highly acclaimed throughout the region. People would come to our practices to hear us, like we were doing a show. It's not that we didn't want to play, we just couldn't keep a complete line-up.

My interests kept turning heavier and darker, music-wise. My next stop was in another practice band during a 6 month stay in San Diego. Tommy Keiser from Krokus was playing bass in that band, but before it went anywhere, my coke habit landed me on a plane back to Buffalo.

There, I stinted with VOA again for awhile, then fronted Rue Morgue. We actually did play shows and were getting a nice local following in the underground scene.

During this time, Buffalo was a major stop for the Death Metal bands that were ruling the underground music world, and I worked at Randall's. The place was thrashing every weekend as touring bands played there. Obituary, Immolation, Bio-hazard, Snapcase, and many others all played there regularly, as local bands like Cannibal Corpse, Grotesque Infection, et al dug there roots there. The downfall for Randall's was when the owner got too big for his boots and booked GWAR. The city shut him down.

Great clubs back then, like The Scrapyard, The Icon, and The Continental, were always packed. If you were going out, you were going to see a band.

I stopped playing and drove tractor trailer for awhile, until 2001, when I came home and found myself singing for Darkling. This was my favorite of all the bands I had been in and around. During this time, I began HipKat Promotions, booking local and club level touring bands in local clubs.

Darkling ended up splitting, then reforming with a new line-up, as HKP grew. I started the idea of putting unknowns on any stage with bands that drew, in order to get them exposure. We rarely made any money, but the chance to play at the better clubs, with good bands was good enough. Funny how many people use that technique now in the area.


Eventually though, my outspoken nature, and my relationship with Buffalo's Rock 'n Roll Outlaw, Bridget Nine, forced me to be ostracised from the local music community, but I kept my ear in it, and still have lots of good friends and good memories.

Today, we live in Peoria, IL, with our daughters, Veruka Nine & Alice Evanka Nine, plotting our glorious return to conquer the mistake by the lake, if we could have stayed together long enough.

Maybe one day, I hope, as Peoria basically sucks, but it's getting better.

My #1 interest right now, is putting the pieces back together. Of my life. The things that made me who I was when this all began. Working out every day, NOT smoking, spiritual, hard working, driven to grow and succeed. I must get that back, otherwise, how can I get anything else back?
My main interests are my daughters, Veruka Nine & Alice and the total recovery of myself. Both of whom I love more than life, though, and ensuring that I provide the best life I can for them, whether it's the best of times or if it's under the worst of conditions, by always being there for them.

I also am in support of Marijuana legalization, as opposed to just decriminalizing it, and support all and any individuals and organizations that also join in that support and work towards that goal, although I rarely smoke it.

I have an exceptionally strong interest in seeing a One World community, seeing an end to nations bullying, discriminating against, taking advantage of, suppressing, starving, killing and enslaving their own people, and the people of other nations that are weaker, practice other religions or ways of life.
Only by creating a One World mentality, will we see civilization progress to the next level in development.

I also have an interest in fuming over the way we've basically killed this planet.
And in light of the imminent changes, I wish we'd stop throwing concerts to raise awareness.
The time for awareness is over.
Now is the time for action. Specifically, figuring out how we're going to survive these changes.

I have a strong interest in the city of Buffalo, NY, where I'm from, originally, and where I long to be.
There really aren't many better places. I just wish the people there would lose their defeatist attitudes and let the area prosper.

My other interest is making people understand I'm done putting up with bullshit.
I hate being told what to do, or being forced to do it.
Call it my love for being free.

Oh, and hard driving, fast, heavy, guitar driven music.

I'm the much maligned, tell it like it is, complete asshole, who gets NO credit, yet walked away from any and everything I had grown accustomed to, so that I could be with my family.

I did it my way, all the way and back again.

Weebles wobble, but they don't fall down.
Still kicking and proving them wrong.

Think HipKat!!