Mikey Ramone: "The Autobiography"

CHAPTER I:

“WHEN I WAS YOUNG – EVERYTHING WAS SO HARD FOR ME TO DEAL WITH. I GREW UP IN A SHITHOLE, AND I SURVIVED.”

Top: Mom and Dad exchanging their engagement rings on July 17, 1983 from the Tea Party and Wedding Ceremony. Photo courtesy of Mikey Ramone Archives. All rights reserved.

So, how am I gonna start at this point?

Oh, let’s just get started this way.

I was born on November 5, 1991, in Saigon, southern Vietnam. Previously, it was South Vietnam (Republic of Vietnam) spanning from 1955 until April 30, 1975 when the communists from the North (or Democratic Republic of Vietnam) annexed the South and merged it all over together and renamed it to “Socialist Republic of Vietnam.” And they renamed the capital as well – “Ho Chi Minh city.” Anyway, politics never has been my favorite topic to talk about.

Let’s go further to my story.

Again, I was born at the time rock and roll and punk rock were going all down, all the fucking hits. This was the time for grunge and pop music, when I could realize, easily, that I was the only kid in town – yes, a small alley with all working-class people around, even my Mom and my Dad. They first met in 1979 and got married by July 17, 1983. I have a sister also. She’s born on April 24, 1984. I am a Scorpio and she is a Taurus. Never been getting along well, as that’s what we did, and still do. We’d have our own personalities. And yes, my sister would always consider I was her biggest pain in the ass. I’d laugh over it. My Mom worked for the goverment until she officially retired in 2012 and my Dad worked for many places to feed us and clothe us. He passed away on May 22, 2016. Mom is still with us. 

I won't forget the day our Dad would come back home every night after a long day at work and bought these takeaway milk boxes for us. Mine would be a chocolate and my sister's would be a strawberry. Just one knock on the door - we both knew he was there. We lived in a very small apartment that my Mom obtained the rights to be living there under the permission of the government. The neighbors were so nice to each other - we were the ones having our first 14" Television made by JVC in Japan. 

And music is the pioneer thing for me to be a pop/rock singer.

Above: "We are a Happy Family." Dad, Mom with me in their arms, on my first bed with Mom's and Dad's hands,  and with my elder sister, February 1992. Photos by unknown.

When I was a year old, I’d overhear “We Are the World” (USA for Africa) and “Off the Wall” (by Michael Jackson) on our small television back in our old house, located on Dien Bien Phu street, Dist. 3. The house number is 230, with two doors – the first door would lead to our bedroom and living room (it was fucking small so far) – and the second was for the kitchen and dining room. And the altars for my uncles and my mother’s father – I hardly knew them ‘cause they all passed away when I hadn’t yet been born. Until I went to the kindergarten at age 2 (yep, my Mom was working for the government so all the kids with their parents like that would have to be that under compulsory age to be in public school). I hated kindergarten and never liked it, though I enjoyed it with a few (yes, quite a few) friends, somehow. I even made friends. The only best friend I ever had was the kid who’s living under our flat (we lived in an apartment) – his name is Giang (literally means “River” in Chinese-Vietnamese). He had his rich father and everytime I hung out over his house, the parents would invite me for a dinner. I could hardly eat all of those food since I was a tough kid and never was pleased to anything. I’d puke. All of them.

My Mom knew the parents of his, and that’s why we got along so well. Heard that he was born one or two months before me – and my Mom’d never have enough of her “mother milk” to feed me, so she would give me to my friend’s mother and she’d feed me over and over. That’s weird. I still keep all of those old photos in the archives.

I was the one who wanted to be a leader. Sometimes me and that friend of mine would have fights. Yes, sometimes it turned to be big fights. But we’re all good brothers. I’d write down all of my friends’ names on these yellow pages of my Dad’s phonebook – later it’d be including petals or a dead butterfly.

I’d have these big tin cans of spray I’d collect from everywhere (I was a weirdo, right?) – and my Mom didn’t like that – she’d throw them all away. She called them “trashes.” I know they were all trashes, but hey, I’d like to collect weird things and even wanted to be an insectologist, so why not for that rebellious blood inside of me? I would say I had that seed of rebellion to be developed in my way, very, very fucking early.

Above: Me in kindergarten, on a Merry-go-round and on swings, circa 1994. Photos by unknown.

Then when I got to the senior year of kindergarten – I was 4 or 5 years old – I’d have my first chance; ever – to be given a listen to one of the very first musical peers in my life – a Danish soft rock/alternative band called “Michael Learns to Rock” – of course I first knew them from a Carlsberg beer commercial (yes, typical and traditional Danish ways to advertise, huh) – and the song’d be “Sleeping Child”. This was in 1995 or 1996 – I don’t remember exactly. And when I went back to the kindergarten class the next morning, I’d pick up a can of Carlsberg beer from a trash can around the school. I loved it. But again, my Mom would throw ‘em all away. Damn, I feel like I had no freedom when I was a kid. I mean, to own something that I really wanted to.

The music really gets me somewhere else. And the culture, too. From America, to Denmark, then Canada and Europe. “Paint My Love”, “That’s Why You Go Away”, “Rock With You”, “Thriller” and more stuff from Michael Learns to Rock and Michael Jackson. They are all my most influential artists at the time. But I still didn’t think much of it; I just wanted to be a normal kid like everyone else.

Above: Photo #1: Taken in the Zoo, circa 1992. Photo #2: Attending my Mom's co-workers' Karaoke party, circa 1995. Photos by unknown. Special thanks to my sister for providing the information. Courtesy of MRA

And there came issues within my family. My Dad was in debt, with too many people around, and it was my Mom who saved him right on time; otherwise he might be in jail for the rest of his life. Thank God for that. When I was ready to step in Grade 1, my grandmother from my Mom’s side passed away. I didn’t remember much about her, but surely I really liked her. She was great.

The thing is, when you stepped into Primary School, you’d feel nothing about it at all. Maybe the other kids would do, but I didn’t. I saw them crying and weeping like babies, but my first days at school were just normal. So normal. Getting known by the other kids around you, and you’d have to accept that. It is a big part of your life.

So I did a very good job in primary school, by skimming around for good marks. But actually it was just a fake feeling you’d have inside. I even didn’t want to be wearing that red scalps – heard that it was useful for graduating or grade-going-up stuff, but I didn’t give a shit about it at all. Like I said, I never meant to be obeyed by any rules, especially about politics.

Talking about love, I did have quite one or maybe two – girlfriends. They were all cool and smart, but at the time I was just a kid having fun and never really cared what was going on around me. Funny thing is, they were having a crush on me, not me having it back on them. But it did happen somehow; I got to call a girl on the phone (we didn’t have Skype or Facebook those days, yes) and told her how I like her, the most. She just stood there and listened carefully on the line. Until I got to Grade 4 – this was the best time ever, but again, I was having a breakdown; which I never knew the reason why – so maybe I was a little bit of estrangement from the other kids in our class. And they did come to my birthday party at home anyway. It was on November 5, 2000 (wasn’t that right?) – and I had previously sent a few birthday invitation letters to them. I was happy having my friends around, one of them would give me this small gift – a sculpture with a young boy practicing Tai-chi and accidentally kicking a puppy (but he did it on purpose anyway). Best gift I ever had. And still keep it, too. We would sit around on the floor and listen to my sister’s “ghost stories.” Yep.

Things were changed again when my best friend – well, actually he moved to another place when we were first into Grade 1, in 1996-1997. We had best mem’ries together by hanging out around the neighborhood or watching “Tom and Jerry” cartoon – he would show me these video tapes from his collection, tons and tons of them. Thinking of it now, I should have been asking him giving me some of those tapes. I did collect mine a few, back in 2000-2001, but they were all long lost, though. Until recently I relocated my “Detective Conan” tape and a bunch of my sister’s wedding tapes (three of them) – including a master one. There was one of them in a keep case which I really treasure it. And luckily, my friend – Lucas McCarthy; one of the biggest fans of the Beatles here, gave me a VCR player in early 2014. A little bit of dust covered on it, though. Still, it can play any VHS tapes you can think of, just with no colors at all. I was a big fan of VHS tapes back in early 2000s. Even a Michael Jackson “Video Greatest Hits: HIStory” tape from my neighbor – he was such a nice guy. We got a big box of VHS tapes and mostly they came from his collection in the old days (maybe before I was born). And they were all about rock and roll or pop music. Still feeling regret that I didn’t keep them carefully. Years went by and by, you know, got to adjust to many friends around the neighborhood wasn’t just that easy. I think they were all cool. Some of them maybe, was not that much friendly.

Above: L-R: My elder sister (in yellow long dress), my Mom's elder sister (Aunt, died March 2018), my Auntie (still alive), my maternal grandmother (died 1997), me and Mom, Second Day of Lunar New Year, January 31, 1995. Photo by unknown.

Then one day, things really did change. I started to dig into much of that rock and roll stuff, kind of rebellious rock, and I was sure that wasn’t the thing that your parents would like to give it a listen. I mean, I was an outcast by then, in lower middle-school. I hated schools. I hated the teachers. And I hated the classmates. I even got into fights.

The first rock band I would ever give a listen to, that was the Beatles. My older sister was recording songs that’s played on the radio (the FM wave 99,9 MHz on every weekend) – and accidentally it was this “Hello, Goodbye” track being recorded into a cassette tape. I lost it. All the tapes, like I said above.

Until this day, I was a loner, with weird styles in my class which no one would likely have it into them. I took part in music contests and stuff like that. But I always failed. I don’t know the reason why, but I think those people just didn’t like me. They never liked rock music. They never liked Michael Jackson. They never liked “Moonwalk”.

Then I got to know what love was. You know, got a girlfriend by your side and taking care of you as if you were her baby. But hell, fucking nope. I was totally a weirdo and chicks turned their backs on me. There was this stupid girl in my lower middle-class and she just didn’t like having me being around her. She just told me straight one day, “Why don’t you just leave me alone? ‘Cause I got a boyfriend already.” But that’s a lie. That’s a fucking lie I have ever heard. She just got fed up with me stalking on her and followed her every step. And well, her name was Kathy. Now she’s already settled down in Boston, Massachusetts, United States of America. Since 2011, I think. There was one time I ever talked to her – that was from July or August until October, the same year as above. Yes, it was five years went by and we are now still strangers to each others. She returned to Vietnam for a period of time but I didn’t care, anyway. 

(End of Chapter One)