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Bill Mullen
Bill Mullen
@billmullenink.bsky.social
7 months ago
#DearDiary, Missing Persons, part 3. When the Kickers of Ass finally dropped me off at my house after the party, Dagmar was polishing off a cigarette in the shadows of her parents’ carport. Dagmar and I spent the next couple of hours dancing to records the Kickers of Ass would have scorned and ridiculed. Thompson Twins and Altered Images. The Selecter. Nowhere Girl and Upstairs At Eric’s. Despite the fact that Dagmar had an infant brother and a crabby 10th grade sister, her parents never gave us any hassle about playing music at 3 AM in their living room. Dagmar and I had these after hours New Wave dance parties fairly regularly, but I remember then and there on that particular night coming to the conclusion that this—whatever this was—was what I wanted and needed my future to be. As opposed to something I did in the dark, separate from my so-called real life. May, 1984–on my way home after freshman year of college to Kansas where Mom and Dad had moved the previous October—I was surprised and delighted to discover Missing Persons in the flesh looking at magazines and buying snacks in a Logan Airport newsstand. Dale was head to toe leopard print MTV super fox glamour perfection. Leopard print spandex and leopard print stiletto boots. Leopard print luggage. Leopard print chiffon wrapped around her delicate silver screen made up face like a punk dream Catwoman Norma Desmond. As the rest of the band observed sternly, beautiful Dale gave me a glossy lipped, high voltage movie star smile when I nervously started up a conversation that included an autograph request. “To Dagmar,” the goddess cheerfully and conspiratorially inscribed on a postcard. Sometimes, when we’d be lying on the beige wall to wall carpet too tired to dance any longer, Dagmar would turn to me with a wicked grin and confide, “You know what, Bill? I’ve got L.A. fever.” And I knew just what she meant. Even though I had never actually been there before. #TrueConfessions by #BillMullen

#DearDiary, Missing Persons, part 3. When the Kickers of Ass finally dropped me off at my house after the party, Dagmar was polishing off a cigarette in the shadows of her parents’ carport. Dagmar and I spent the next couple of hours dancing to records the Kickers of Ass would have scorned and ridiculed. Thompson Twins and Altered Images. The Selecter. Nowhere Girl and Upstairs At Eric’s. Despite the fact that Dagmar had an infant brother and a crabby 10th grade sister, her parents never gave us any hassle about playing music at 3 AM in their living room. Dagmar and I had these after hours New Wave dance parties fairly regularly, but I remember then and there on that particular night coming to the conclusion that this—whatever this was—was what I wanted and needed my future to be. As opposed to something I did in the dark, separate from my so-called real life. May, 1984–on my way home after freshman year of college to Kansas where Mom and Dad had moved the previous October—I was surprised and delighted to discover Missing Persons in the flesh looking at magazines and buying snacks in a Logan Airport newsstand. Dale was head to toe leopard print MTV super fox glamour perfection. Leopard print spandex and leopard print stiletto boots. Leopard print luggage. Leopard print chiffon wrapped around her delicate silver screen made up face like a punk dream Catwoman Norma Desmond. As the rest of the band observed sternly, beautiful Dale gave me a glossy lipped, high voltage movie star smile when I nervously started up a conversation that included an autograph request. “To Dagmar,” the goddess cheerfully and conspiratorially inscribed on a postcard. Sometimes, when we’d be lying on the beige wall to wall carpet too tired to dance any longer, Dagmar would turn to me with a wicked grin and confide, “You know what, Bill? I’ve got L.A. fever.” And I knew just what she meant. Even though I had never actually been there before. #TrueConfessions by #BillMullen

#DearDiary in ALT TEXT…

#DaleBozzio #MissingPersons #NewWave #Punk #RockStar #RockArt #PunkArt #NewWaveArt #80s #Eighties #Memoir #Memories #Markers #MTV #LeopardPrint #RhymeAndReason #SurrenderYourHeart #Give #Heroes #PostcardsFromTheEdge

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