Another Trip Around the Sun

Plus, news from an uncertain future

Today is my birthday. To celebrate, I’m going to make a special announcement. But first, a story. 

On the day that I was born my father was serving in Vietnam. As a young lieutenant, he was the commander of a Swift Boat at Cat Lo Naval Base. 

My mother sent a bottle of Tullamore Dew Irish whiskey concealed in a loaf of bread to Vietnam so that he could celebrate my birth with his buddies. Technically, the whiskey is called Tullamore D.E.W. after the manufacturer D.E. Williams but the slogan at the time was “Give Every Man His Dew,” which is the important part of this story.  

The bottle sat on a shelf in the makeshift bar of the officer’s mess, which was home to a round-the-clock poker game that never ended. It started before my father arrived and continued after he left. 

(The game was interrupted on at least one occasion when the naval base was attacked by ground forces and the sailors had to scramble their boats, turn around, and fire on their own base, which irritated everyone.)

I was born early in the morning on July 22 in New York City but when the news was sent to my father he was out on coastal patrol. 

Personal matters weren’t allowed on official radio channels for obvious reasons, but as word of my arrival reached my father’s shipmates, the slogan “Give Every Man His Due” was repeated over and over again.

My birth was heralded by thirsty sailors, which explains a lot, actually. But that’s how my father found out he was a father. 

Back in New York, the plan was to name me Liam, Irish for Uilliam, i.e. William, which was my mother’s father’s name, though everyone called him Pinchy. I never met Pinchy Flanagan. He died when my mother was still a teenager. 

But after my father was deployed to Vietnam, my mother decided to name me James after my father, in case he didn’t come back. It’s also my father’s father’s name, so there’s that. 

My father’s nickname in Vietnam was Rookie. Call signs were derived from the first letter of their last name using the military alphabet. 

Ergo, my father’s call sign was Romeo, but there were already plenty of Romeos. So they called him Rookie Romeo i.e. the new Romeo, which was shortened to Rookie and then Rook.

When my father returned home, there were suddenly three Jims. My grandfather became Big Jim by virtue of seniority. My father, who was 6’4” was Little Jim and I was christened Tiny Jim by my grandmother, which my mother wasn’t too thrilled about. 

Many of my father’s Navy buddies continued to call him by his nickname when they returned to New York, which my father resisted, so they passed the nickname on to me, the new arrival, and it stuck. To this day that’s what my family and a handful of friends that I grew up with still call me. 

Now for the news… Today I’m thrilled to announce another imminent arrival: I have another punk rock book in the works, and unlike the books I did with Bad Religion and Keith Morris, I am its sole author.

The contract hasn’t been finalized yet, and that slip into passive voice should tell you I’m not at liberty to discuss the book’s title, subject, or release date just yet, but more will be revealed. I will say that if you dug My Damage, and like Do What You Want, you will ostensibly enjoy the work in progress. 

So if you have any Irish whiskey on hand (seltzer water, O’Doul’s, or Kombucha also work) raise a glass to your ancestors and the adversity they faced that resulted in the creation of something special and unique. 

Do What You Want Updates

• Flexi Giveaway: Thanks to everyone who participated in the Flexi giveaway! If you missed out, there are still some available. (I was going to do a second run of the giveaway closer to the release date, but have decided to give them all away now.) Just reply with proof that you pre-ordered Do What You Want and your mailing address and I’ll put one in the mail. For those I’ve already contacted, your Flexi will go in the mail tomorrow. Haven’t pre-ordered? Then by all means read on…

• Signed edition of Do What You Want: Barnes & Noble just announced they are offering signed editions of Do What You Want. I have no idea how many they have or how long the promotion will last, and I’m pretty sure they’re not the only retailer with signed editions in their stock. So if you already pre-ordered don’t give up hope of getting one. Please keep in mind, this promotion is being run by the publisher, not the band. If it makes you feel any better, I just pre-ordered one.

• Yr Not Alone. Last week I read the intro to Do What You Want during a reading with other contributors to Razorcake, America’s only non-profit independent music magazine. The reading is online and can be viewed at your convenience. 

Future Underworlds

I’ve got a backlog of book reviews for you, including a book shortlisted for the International Man Booker Prize, a consideration of Stanley Kubrick’s The Shining, and a very unusual punk rock photo book. 

This story about a band that tours via boat and gets stuck at sea in the middle of a pandemic is right in my wheelhouse. 

Today I learned I share a birthday with TSOL’s Jack Grisham. It’s also John Dillinger’s death day and the date on which Black Flag’s infamous show at Polliwog Park in Manhattan Beach occurred.

Since so many indie musicians have been outed as predators and creeps over the last week, I will leave you with this lovely medieval rendition of Dolly Parton’s “Jolene.”