I would like to welcome you all here. It has been a rocky road without the marshmallows. I have gone from having paint on everything I own and one arrest with no convictions to two arrests with no convictions, that incident at a high school “Battle of the Bands” notwithstanding… and a small semblance of paint-free wardrobe for when I choose to be inconspicuous. NYPD B&B is still the cheapest accommodations in town.
Please enjoy our first generation merch line of this millennium. As interest grows, so will the product line, both new designs and blasts from the past. Custom-made, hand-printed “one of’s” will add a unique flair to what you wear. Enjoy everything you do, and I can’t wait to see each and everyone of you full on, hardcore representin’. Enjoy…
I guess they were plainclothes, but they were not really undercover…I could see their Queens white faces a block away and could have outrun their Burger King eating asses if I had actually done something wrong, but alas, all I was doing was walking out of the paint store on my way to a legal mural. With no paint on my hands or clothing. Oh well…trust is fleeting.
JULY 15 2020…
So here we are in Month Four of Armageddon and I feel fine. Well, sort of. The social isolation is not horrible and even though I used to sit at the end of the bar or at a booth in the corner enjoying my whatever…there was still social context to my self-imposed isolation. It’s good to have a partner and pets and this new line of bringing my old line back to the public.
I used to design and print shirts in my crib back on Ludlow Street…carrying boxes of wholesale blank Ts back from Eisner Brothers and Freidman and Sons, several blocks and then up the four flights to my place. There was never a dull moment. When I got a new order or had a fresh, new idea, I would sometimes stay up and print in my small one bedroom tenement apartment until 3:00 or 3:30 in the morning, leaving just enough time to make it across the street to the Ludlow Street Cafe for my two Guinness last call happy hour…Valium substitute…and then crawl back across the street and up the stairs and either crash, or load my pockets with cans of Krylon and hit the darkened streets of the Lower East Side in order to get the rest of my message across. Times were good.