Mikey Ramone: "The Autobiography"
CHAPTER III:
“FRIENDS FROM AROUND THE WORLD VS. BIRTH OF THE JACKALS”
I know that the only thing I ever needed in my life – is
to be free. But it doesn’t come easy. You’ve gotta been through many shitty
situation and down on your knees and then – boom, one fucking unknown day; you
would eventually achieve it. This idea actually came after I listened to “Free
Bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd. It still obsesses me the most. I didn’t want to show
up to girls that I have this and that or anything, but I was trying to prove
that I could play instruments and wanted to be a rock and roller. And there
were your spineless friends around trying to get you down. I got words from a
friend of mine – he’s from Boston like Kathy; and he told me this: “Not too
overly famous, but pretty well-known artist. I respect that.” And his name’s
Quentin Callewaert. He is half Dutch and Belgian; his mother’s from the
Netherlands and his father’s from Belgium. Oh, how I love Germanic people and
their languages. Especially Denmark, which it uses the same Germanic language
and it is very identical to German and Dutch.
Speaking of which, Danish language would be my ultimate
choice for learning. Why? I have no idea. Maybe it was just a destiny to me. I
got advises from other friends of mine; whom a few of them appears to be
Danish, and they just told me that “Oh, you are so tough that you learn Danish.
Good luck with that.” And now I have some Danish friends and they are all nice
and funny. One of the guys – his name’s Martin Degn Hornbek Jakobsen; from
Aarhus, Middle Jutland, Denmark – exactly the place where Michael Learns to
Rock the band was born there. And this little idea in my head just ignited.
“Going to Denmark and settling down for the rest of my
life.” Before that, another friend of mine – he is Italian, named Federico
Rossi Mulas, he just told me that, you know – “Why don’t you choose a
destination instead of living in your own place?” I admit that he was right.
It was hard, though, since I was on my own and no one
could help me getting a visa or permanent resident permit to stay. Visas
actually – they don’t help you at all; you can only stay there for a period of
time (three months, I guess) then you’ve gotta go back to your country. And
since my friend Martin said that it is now fucking hard, yes it is hard; to get
citizenship of Denmark, because of the European migrant crisis in 2015, and now
some of the EU countries have just closed or heavily settin barricades their
borders. Otherwise they would make it hard for you to get in. Martin said that
I’d have to answer a form about Danish culture and history and politics and
stuff, then I’d be done with citizenship – with these 41 questions. I know it
is not a walk in the park, right? But still, I’ve been trying and still do,
because from the beginning I talked to myself that I would never give up until
I finally achieved it, thoroughly.
Martin is a really cool friend. I like him a lot.
Although we are not living in the same city and it is lying in both two sides
of the world – Southeast Asia and Northern Europe – but we kinda contact a lot,
mostly on Facebook and having so many things in common. Yeah I know he is a
Capricornus, whilst I am a Scorpio – that means we work best when we are
together. But this guy… Yeah. What more can I say about him? He is the best.
I know – I met quite a lot of cool foreign friends – but these are special friends I ever have in my life. Whatever comes up first on my mind - old memories or whatever happens in my daily life – I would discuss with or confide to him first. He is always the first. Recently – me, Martin and Anh (Emma) – we would talk about who shall visit who in the near future – and Martin just told us that “I will visit you and Anh someday soon, but you guys better come here fast.” And he also added “If so I could pay half of the ticket price if I wanted to.” While I checked the ticket from Saigon to Copenhagen – only for 13 million VND; then Martin’d say that to me. How cool. I long for that day. If he really did come to Vietnam to visit me and Anh I would give him a big hug. And holding him tight. Never let him go. ‘Cause he is my brother. You see, you get what you give and deserve. Life could be sometimes both bad and good to us, and we have to accept it. There was a time me and him were really estranged from everything especially our thoughts, so divided in our own thoughts. After all, we’re good and close like brothers. From November 2017 – March 2018 we were in this shitty situation never talked to each other again – I’d vow that and I meant it, but yeah, he did anyway. He said he missed me and wanted to reconnect our friendship again and sincerely apologized for what he said before that. I finally gave in. The joke was never going, really, away because it hurt me so deeply. That wasn’t a Danish joke for sake. The Danes didn’t make those jokes. Bullshit.
Later on, I made it up with Martin and Nicolas, - March 2018 and 2019, for real - and
we became brothers, once again. See, it’s so easy to be bullshitting about
something like very seriously, then all of a sudden, you’re forgiven. That’s
life. That’s how men do to solve the conflicts if not for the fist fights and
shit. I believe in power. I believe that violence is never an answer, and we
can have another option to put things all aside. Or – with another friend of
mine, Thomas, and he’s also a Dane. I mean, what can you really do to bully a
Dane? They’re so funny, they are very relaxed. You cannot get them pissed off
unless you talk shit about their country and again – politics shit. So
basically what happened between me and that guy, Thomas was about I posted
something on my Facebook profile about a Danish politician – her name was
Pernille Vermund, and she’s a right-winger, with some extreme policies about
immigrants and freedom of religions. I could have never cared less about it
anyways. If these politicians do a good job – then I’ll praise them no matter
what. Hey, I am a Vietnamese, an Asian. Sometimes I don’t want to use the “R”
word – you know what I mean – towards anyone, except if they flip their faces
on me at the first place. Well. You can guess the rest. Dating sites. Lots of
rubbish, likewise 70-80% of them. The rest of them was... I don’t even want to
know about it anymore. I gave up. Like I said, if we can put aside politics and
color skins and shit, we can still get along so well. But too bad, these people
are hiding behind their computers, or phone screens and shit, talking shit
about me and calling me names. Not cool. They need to find a better job to do. And this is how internet, a.k.a. "modern technology" does to you. You have since become your own nightmare and your own prison is waiting for you; or it already ate up your soul.
Talking about friends – well, some came across me like a breeze, some would stay back and became true ones. That’s how you can learn from life – the lessons, and it worked in some ways – yeah, toxic friends I’d have a lot and I never cared. Who the hell were they to tell me what to do anyway? I mean, I never went to any class reunion in the past – particularly the Lower Middle-school or the late-high-school friends-in-a-meeting. They’d lecture me over things and I didn’t like it. Female friends – some of them, yeah I know they’d have a crush on me but they just didn’t shoot it straight. Male friends – as said above they’d become my brothers. Both in business – playing music and stuff or just having shared by some feelings, mutually.
I also got to know my God parents - maybe, well, the whole family around December 2015. That was a great start for us to becoming a big second family. His name was Anthony Lưu, and his real name was Lưu Thế Dũng, a.k.a. Dũng Rock, and he had been long involved with the Saigonese-pop-rock-scenes back in the Sixties and Seventies, when we were still a legitimate, a state governed by the South Vietnamese government, or 'Republic of Vietnam,' during the inter-war with the North Vietnamese Viet Congs. We lost, they won. How tragically. And when I met my God father, he liked me right away. He said I resembled him when he was very young, playing music and listening to classic rock and roll music like he did. Well, according to his younger sister, Christine, they once had many vinyl record albums and too bad, after the "Black April" event, or "April 30th, 1975 incident," of when the Commies invaded and took over the South, they'd burn everything related to American involvement into the Vietnam War - even books. I hated to also hear that many South Vietnamese working for the Americans had to go to "concentrate camps," after the war ended. And some would die there, never seen the days of lights to finding their way back with their families. Some were released like my God father, and he would be, after six or seven years in their prison camps - from 1976 to 1983. Then he stepped on a chopper and being transferred as the refugee emigrated into the United States, settled down in California - and now he's been since enjoying his life in Las Vegas.
And by the time we met, we were at a place in District 1 called "La Fenetre Soleil," which translated from French as "The Windows of Sun." It was a jam session, and he just had come back to Vietnam after a long period of time living in the US, having seen his folks here for the first time after all those crazy years. And it was me naming all of his Rolling Stones song choice onstage when he borrowed my guitar - Judy and played all of those songs. He was impressed. No more, no less. I was considered as his God son not long after, probably around November - December 2016 when he gave me his 1993 Mexican Fender Telecaster electric guitar, which he had been using back in the days with his old band mates - and the guitar itself was also notably used onstage by Ms. Trang "Câu" from the Blue Stars, another popular rock group originated in South Vietnam. They were all great bands. Great music, great fashion of choice - hippie style, of course, and they are all leaning Right. Last time I heard my God parents all voted for President Donald John Trump, because at least they could see the threat from China and the Commies would have taken over the world. They are all tough Republicans, having a big gun collection and also a broad knowledge of rock and roll music - not just in English but also in French - all Romance music. I idolize them. A lot. Even their friends from around the world after fleeing Vietnam - some would be in France, some would be in Australia and many other countries. I still talk to them. They are all intellectuals. I respect that. Me? I haven't been talking about my own political views for years, at least since 2021. Because it caused so many controversy. "Better stay away from it," that's what my God father told me. If my friend Bob Fagan wasn't coming at the first place as my father figure after my Dad passed away, my God father would have been the one. Bob died on July 9, 2023 of kidney and liver failure. Last time I contacted him it was before the Covid waves hit us hard - presumably in July 2021 or so, but I remember that he did comment on my Facebook posts about Grateful Dead in 2019 because I was slowly becoming their big fan, and I still do.
During my stay back at the Crib in Bui Vien, District 1 where I’d play music for a couple of nights – I made some friends, too. March - November 2018. They’re all great, from every nation you can possibly imagine. It’s a melting-pot, yeah, that’s how Saigon would be like. It’s a tourist-attraction for sake. But, after a couple of shows with Văn Thành Trung (ex-bass guitarist of the Last Jackals), they kicked me out for "playing too loud" which would eventually, according to them - scare the customers away, but I think we did a good job of attracting many people in because they heard us from upstairs down here at the sidewalks, then they came up to see us. They would sit down, very calmly, listen to what we played. Well, back in the days we mostly played the Ramones covers - almost all songs from each of the band's albums, literally. There were some days I never been home - I would sleep back at the Crib and waiting for the nights to come downstairs at the bar playing music again. Great times. I will never forget it. The place got closed down over a bankruptcy right on the New Year's Eve onwards to 2019. I think they deserved it. They treated us musicians like trash on their final days of opening and operating as a hostel. I never cared. I never wanted to come back even to Bui Vien like no more. It was fucking chaos.
You could imagine this - I had been playing at a place in Bui Vien not far away from this Crib place (before it even was open), from December 2016 to April 2017 - witnessing at least four times of people gotten into fights. There were chairs, beer bottles, even sticks and others like machetes, and blood everywhere. Expats versus Locals. What a sightseeing view to see. I know these locals - they were gangs from everywhere in this country coming to Saigon like these places to doing some extra jobs, like working at a parking lot and stuff. Hectic days with working on my ass from 10:30pm until 5 or 6am the next morning on this busy streets filled with lots of drunkens and fights and shit, I'm glad I'm still alive at this point, without getting hurt even a hairs of mine being hardly touched. I guess I was just lucky somehow and enjoying what the good music could have brought to my own.
Still, I don’t like the system. You gotta have some protection. You were scared, like being pushed against the walls. You'd feel insecure. There are too many people coming in here, and they just keep ruining the city. With trashes, and beggars, a.k.a. "begpackers" - a term we use for those expat backpackers but begging for money on another street of one random Third-world country. Or prostitution. The cops did not do anything. I think they were bribed. Typically some interesting story every day about a Commie country. Well, ain't that the truth?
Sometimes I hated these people too much I wanted to do something to expel them from my own country, because they caused so many troubles. You gotta do something wrong to piss off the locals, right? If they like you, they do. If they hate you, they do. Agreed on one point – tourism makes it stronger, the economy, but not just about the money. You have to look deeper into that to seeing what really is going on now. And actions speak louder than words, as they always will be. After we left the Crib, Văn Thành Trung later joined us the Jackals as a full-time member, and we embarked on a two year-long tour of shows around Saigon and even reaching out to Joe's Cafe Muine (in Mui Ne, Binh Thuan province, of course). But he was fired after a heated argument with me at Yoko Jam session on September 3, 2019. Kyle Kersey was the next long-serving bass guitarist to join, and I knew he was the right guy. My instincts were never wrong.
END OF CHAPTER THREE
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