Born in 1961 in Downtown Los Angeles, California. Lived in Long Beach, California, in the ’80s and attended shows at various venues throughout Los Angeles County. Currently lives in Huntington Beach, California, and works in human resources.
IN 1980, I WAS NINETEEN. I was working at my aunt’s beauty salon in Seal Beach, because I had gotten a manicuring license. Outside of her salon, I saw this guy walking on the sidewalk. He had bright orange hair and was wearing a long green trench coat and combat boots. I had just been hearing about this punk rock/new wave stuff. My cousin Denise told me about some new wave party she went to. It sounded interesting. Then I saw that guy. There was something in the way he looked. I never saw anyone like him. I was very intrigued.
I was also working at Marie Callender’s in Long Beach, as a waitress. There was a maintenance guy who worked there. His name was Mike, but he went by Waldo. I think he’s dead now. When I would go to work, I would see him painting the curbs. I thought he was cute. He had spiky, white bleached hair. It seemed like he had new bruises every time I saw him. Somehow, we just started talking. We became good friends. He said he was going to these punk shows in Los Angeles, and I should go. I think that was the first time I heard the word “punk.” That’s when I learned about the Hollywood scene.
I went to tons of shows with my girlfriends, Linnet, Kim, and my cousin Jennie. Fender’s in Long Beach and all the places out in L.A.: the Whisky, Madame Wong’s, Cathay De Grande, Perkins Palace. It was cool to change your name if you were into punk. Some guy started calling me “molecule” at work, so I became Moly Cule—not punk unless I spelled it Maul E. Cule [laughs]. Linnet was Ella Trick. Kim was Jenny Ration. We went to shows probably four nights a week. Anything that we heard about. I’d get an L.A. Weekly every week, and I would circle what shows we’d want to see. I was a waitress at the time, so I could get a shift off if a good show was coming up.
I’m not an artist, but I love art. I’m an art appreciator. That was another thing about the scene back then. There was a lot of artistic expression. I also went to a lot of performance art shows, like Johanna Went. Once there was this tall, gaunt guy up onstage at the Anti-Club. He was wearing women stockings and nothing else. He was putting chicken heads up his butt and shooting them out. Just weird shit like that. I loved anything that was weird.
We went to Cathay de Grande a lot. Once Hervé Villechaize from Fantasy Island was in there smoking a cigar and having a drink. Another time at the Whisky, this guy was standing next to me with these beautiful dreadlocks and said, “Look in the back of the club. Grace Jones is in our presence.” I turned around and saw Grace Jones in full fatigues . . . camouflage hat and combat boots. She was beautiful.
Another cool memory. In 1981, I was standing in line to get into the Whisky. I remember exactly what I was wearing: 1950s white pedal pushers that I bought at a thrift shop and my dad’s blue-and-white-striped shirt. I had blue lipstick on. Somehow I found blue lipstick. This one super tall guy was standing near me. He had a camera. I remember he said something to me like, “You are a work of art.” It was a great introduction, so we started hanging out. He would bring over this massive big photo album with all these amazing photographs of bands like Black Flag, Circle Jerks, Christian Death, and 45 Grave. It was Edward Colver. Many of those same photographs are now totally famous. I’m so happy Edward took so many photos back then. He really memorialized the whole scene.
The bad parts of the scene were the drugs, drinking, and violence. Drinking was my own problem, but it was a major part of the whole scene. So many people drank a lot. My girlfriends and I would go to shows in one car, get drunk, then end up getting home separately, not even sure how. I would black out a lot and find myself in really bad situations. I ended up getting raped by four guys I thought were my friends from the Target of Demand crew we were hanging out with. A lot of people I knew back then are dead. I think some of the guys that raped me are dead now. A lot of people were into heroin, too. I think that was another real negative part of the punk scene.
Before punk, I felt suppressed, insecure, and had so much anger in me. I think that’s why the scene appealed to me. I was verbally abused by my father from thirteen to seventeen, until I moved out. The punk scene happened and I realized I could say, “I’m not going to take any more bullshit from anybody.” I loved the music and the energy and being able to not give a shit about how I looked. People were like, “Fuck this and fuck that.” It was fun and empowering.
I always loved music, and felt it was a sanctuary for me. Even now, it changes me. If I’m in a bad mood, I’ll come home and put on some music. I still have my little pink album player here in my living room and listen to my albums a lot. Music is still my sanctuary.
I didn’t really associate with a lot of women in the scene. It was male-dominated. I think, because of the violence and the energy and the angst, more males were attracted to it. There were girls around, but I really only felt comfortable around my close girlfriends.
I love being a woman, though. We can do so much on our own. It’s probably why I’ve never gotten married. I just feel like I can do things on my own, and I didn’t have the greatest male role models in my life. I love men, too. I just think roles have changed so much. A woman can have her own career and raise her children on her own. I raised my son on my own. I have a degree, and I support myself. I feel like I’m a pretty empowered woman.
My greatest role model was my grandma. She loved me unconditionally. Even when I was into punk, she treated me with love and respect. She would even ride with me in my blue Ford Pinto that was spray-painted with punk graffiti. She helped raise me, since my biological mom gave me up when I was three months old. She was very traditional, so I would always see her cooking and cleaning. She also worked as a seamstress. I learned from her how strong women could be and how much they could do on their own, because she did.
I’ve always been very independent. I put myself through school and paid for it myself. Probably when I was very young I thought I should get married and be a housewife with kids, but that just never ended up being my thing. I remember at twenty-five I was living in Belmont Shores, still waitressing, and said, “I’m bored of this. I’m going to go to school. I don’t care how long it takes, but I’m going to stick with it until I finish.” I started at Long Beach City College as an accounting major. By the time I got into my upper division at Long Beach State, I started hating accounting. I loved my psychology and human resources classes, so I switched majors and graduated with my degree in human resources. I only took off one semester to have my son.
Punk rock definitely influenced me for the rest of my life. I got into animal rights and vegetarianism at that time. The scene made it okay to think about things, social injustices, and animal rights. It made it okay to be and look different. It didn’t matter if I had a little run in my stockings. There was always this competition in my family over who was going to look the best. When I got into the punk scene, my cousin Jennie and I purposely ripped up our stockings. There weren’t stores yet where you could buy punk clothes, so I got stuff from thrift shops and made my own clothes. I would cut my skirts in the front and keep them long in the back. I wanted a pair of combat boots like the guys were wearing. I went to an army surplus store and everything was too big. I found this really old pair of ice skates that laced up at a thrift shop. I had the blade removed and I painted them black. Those were my combat boots.
The scene started out really fun . . . the music, energy, and anarchy of it all. Through the scene, I developed confidence. It brought me out of my shell. It’s not so much that I was a real shy person. It just allowed me to not be as scared of things and not care what others thought of me. It allowed me to say what’s on my mind and be more carefree in my thoughts and actions. Unfortunately, the scene got progressively violent. Violence, drugs, and alcohol became the focus, so I stopped going to shows after a few years.