Posted October 24, 2007 in

In October of 2006, Whitman, a Riverside-based noise-folk one-man outfit, was living in a small house that he shared with a stripper he didn’t know and the stripper’s he’s-here-all-the-time-he-should-pay-bills-too boyfriend. The living conditions were miserable. The kitchen was so filthy with dirty dishes and rotting food that it was practically unusable. His roommate and her boyfriend did little but smoke pot and have sex in every room of the house. Indeed, these were dismal days for Whitman. But they were going to get worse.

Soon after his roommate’s boyfriend unofficially moved in, Whitman answered a knock at the door. Standing on his porch was a thuggish tough guy demanding “Bobby’s things.” Whitman had no idea who Bobby was, but the tough guy told him that she was a stripper and used to dance with Whitman’s roommate. She was missing clothes worth “thousands of dollars” and if his roommate couldn’t come up with the clothes, or compensation for them, in 48 hours, he was going to “make some calls.” The thuggish guy made mention of rapping the housemates on top of milk crates and detailed ways to disfigure people.

Not wanting to find out if the threats were genuine, Whitman packed up all his belongings in his car and went on tour with Riverside’s president of happiness, John Thill, and never went back to the house he shared with his stripper roommate and her ever-present-bong-wielding boyfriend.

“We played some really awesome shows up the California coast, and neither of us looked forward to coming back to this costly smog trap,” Whitman says. “[John Thill] came back to an insect infested trailer with no heat and me to no place at all. Though we did and we’re still here, but God knows why.” Good times.  (Phil Fuller)

Whitman with IE, Alas! Alak, Alaska; Refrigerator; Voice On Tape at The Old Baldy Brewery (271 N. 2nd Ave), Upland, (866) 377-6853; www.myspace.com/oldbaldybrewery. $5



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