Front Yard Hair Salon

Senor 23 and I were sitting in my room overlooking the busy street below. As usual, we had been drinking some beers in the early afternoon since neither one of us had anything else better to do. I opened one of the large bay windows to get some fresh air into the house and I was periodically sitting on the edge of the window frame to get a better view down the street.

Heavy footsteps erupted from the front porch. Someone got to the front door and really abused the mechanical bell. Senor 23 went down there to see who it was, he came back a minute later with an old friend I hadn’t seen for some time. His name was Jason Blore. Jason dropped by to say hello and see what was going on at the B Street house since he was in the neighborhood, he said. That was cool. It really had been a long time since I last saw him. We offered him some beer and made small talk about what he had been up to lately. That was when I saw the meter maid coming down the other side of B Street towards us. Senor 23’s car was parked directly across from the house and he didn’t have much time left on the meter.

The meter maid was driving one of those stupid three wheeled carts that seem popular with most cities these days. As the henchman of evil-parking-oppression moved in near Senor 23’s ride, I pointed out the window at it and asked him how much time he had left. Instead of answering me, he pushed past me, hopped out the second floor window, literally ran head first down the roof, and then jumped onto the roof of the hair salon in our front yard. He landed squarely on both feet and like a crazed maniac he slithered in between our roof and the edge of the hair salon’s building to drop down on our front porch. I could hear him running down the porch to the gravel driveway and then like a shot from a gun he bolted across the street (without looking for oncoming traffic). He made it to the meter next to his parked car just as the servant of Satan pulled up in her three wheeled shit heap.

Jason and I were laughing hysterically at Senor 23. The meter maid saw him running out to the meter and put some change in it, so she must have been aggrivated at not being able to write a ticket. They live for that sort of thing you know. Because we were laughing so loudly the meter maid looked up at my window. Just as she did so Jason yelled at her, “Everybody hates meter maids!” At that outburst I really lost it and was laughing so hard I was on the verge of tears. The meter maid definetly heard Jason’s insult and merely waved hello at us. Then things got ugly.

All of the women in the hair salon had come out of the portable building and had been standing in the middle of the street watching us. We hadn’t noticed them. One of them yelled in her empty headed housewife voice, “Are you guys jumping on our roof?” I stopped laughing. Uh oh. I might be in trouble with the property manager again on this one. Shit. I didn’t have much time to think of a good lie or a witty response so I did what any sensible guy would do. I yelled back “Nope.” I could tell by the look on their faces my response was not the correct one. No matter. We had a poor relationship as neighbors anyway. The dingbats in the hair salon were always blocking our driveway with their cars, and they haven’t forgotten about the flood damage my empty beer bottles caused. They couldn’t prove anything though so we didn’t have to pay for the water damage. Heh.

Jason took it upon himself to yell shit at the ladies in the street. Their faces turned red when he was through with them. We had just crossed a line and there was no turning back now. I was expecting a phone call from the property manager any minute. Shortly after the hairdresser idiots went back inside their hole, the phone did indeed ring. I told Jason to shut up for a minute and I took the call. On the other end of the line was a flustered sounding property manager. She told me she just received a complaint about someone jumping on the roof of the hair salon and that the hit to their roof was so strong that it caused their track lighting to break free from the ceiling mounts and drop down on it’s wires about a foot and a half.

One of their customers at the time was an old woman and the sudden noise and commotion practically caused her a heart attack, she said. Oops. I gave her my best honest business guy voice and said, “Hmmm. That’s unusual. I wonder what could have caused that. Well, if I find anything out I’ll let you know, OK?” The property manager lady wasn’t having any of it and started threatening me. If there were any further problems with the hair salon we would all find ourselves thrown out on the street, she said. Uhuh. Whatever. I knew she wasn’t going to do anything about it. Over time I’ve discovered that our property manager really couldn’t be bothered with this kind of petty junk and she’s all bark, no bite. I listened to her lecture and then put the phone down after she was finished filling my ear with hate.

B Street wins round 2. Hair salon, 0.

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~ by factorypeasant on December 31, 2004.

24 Responses to “Front Yard Hair Salon”

  1. Hmmm… could there be more than one Jason Blore? Are you referring to dog boy who was murdered in sonoma county in 1998?

  2. if there were more than one Jason Blore running around loose i think the entire world would be engulfed in eternal hellfire(tm). he was killed along with his boss in Guerneville. a damn shame. Blore was funny as fuck. i’ll never forget him.

  3. God bless them both. 9 years to the day and Jason and Hans are still on my mind. RIP.

  4. yeah, jason b was pretty hip despite all the mayhem he brought along with him. sometimes the mayhem was one of his endearing qualities though. there was a certain novelty to his personality that made him fun to hang out with.

    i met jason through some friends of his all from the grass valley/nevada city area of california when a few of them had moved to santa rosa in the late 1980s. ira, chris, and miles. those guys were best friends since kids so they were practically inseparable. we were all finishing up high school and moving on into our early twenties. i remember chris, ira, and jason used to go to the coast to throw each other off sand dunes and get into rock fights. sometimes they really fucked each other up but they never got angry about it afterward or during the melees.

    somebody pushed jason off an overpass in downtown santa rosa. they never caught anyone for pushing jason off the overpass… he broke his ankles, legs, and pelvis in the fall. it was down by third street i think. anyway after the accident chris had a lot of fun pushing jason into walls and telephone poles when he was confined to a wheelchair which was supposed to last for months. i think chris enjoyed hassling jason quite a bit then. jason of course was fidgety sitting in a wheelchair all day long for weeks on end. he couldn’t stand it anymore. one night he had help from chris and a few others i think. he cut his casts off his legs way early before he had healed properly from the overpass fall.

    then those guys went out to the coast again to jump off sand dunes or some shit. one of them shoved jason off a dune and he fell for days landing on his head and completely torqued his neck doing so. it was neat. they had to carry him back to the car. after a while jason was able to move again. heh.

    when i was living at the b street house jason had been dealing with a hardcore heroin addiction for a long time. he used to ask if he could use my kitchen to cook food, usually dinners. he always brought enough to share with others. he stole steaks from Safeway. i didn’t have a problem with him using my kitchen and let him do his thing. generally after he ate jason would get sick and puke it all up. i felt kinda bad for the guy. other times he would come by the house and ask to borrow a little money for ‘medicine’. i’d give him a $20 and tell him to keep it. i didn’t want the money back or anything. that was easier so he didn’t feel obligated to repay me at some point and i could just forget about it. i suspected the medicine he was talking about was for drugs, but if he really did need some help for vitamins or prescriptions or some shit then it was all good. i always hoped it was for the latter.

    one of the great things about jason blore was his ability to make other people happy. whenever you were feeling down, or sad, or angry at the world jason could make you laugh. guaranteed. even if his life was total shit at the time and you had some petty grievances against your job or whatever jason could make you forget about it for a while because he was so god damned hilarious. that’s one of the things, one of the qualities he had that i like to think about the most. i know other people who knew him felt the same way about the jerk.

    i remember being at an outdoor punk concert off santa rosa avenue one summer night. a local band was playing on acerage so they could be loud until late in the evening without being hassled by the cops. the band was set up on a gray shale gravel driveway. unfortunately many of the people who showed up for the gig were lame. jason blore arrived and made the same observation i had about the crowd. but unlike myself who kept quiet about it, jason decided to do something to those nitwits. as they danced around on the driveway jason stooped down picking up handfuls of gravel. he threw it straight upwards into the air with all his might so that it rained down upon the heads of these unsuspecting retardeds. i never have laughed so hard in my life as i watched jason do that shit over and over again. holy shit was that cool.

    i missed a birthday party closer to the coast one year. since so much time has passed i don’t remember if it was a party for jason’s b-day or if it was someone else’s. devil-t was there and saw things first hand. i heard about the gig from a few mutual friends afterward though and i have to say i am truly sorry i didn’t go. the gist of it was people at the b-day bash were being whiners or something and jason blore became annoyed with them. so he ran around the dry hillside setting weeds on fire with a lighter. poeple rushed over freaking out angrily extinguishing the flames while yelling at jason. but, before they could put out the flames jason was already lighting more weeds on fire someplace else dozens of feet away. i think i heard he jerked off a dog the following morning, y0. i’ll have to ask devil-t about that again next time i see him.

    for a time jason was homeless. near the JC neighborhoods he had a couple of friends that let him stay at their small apartment until the manager there figured out jason was squatting with them. the guy wanted to banish him and probably evict the renters so they hatched a plan. instead of jason staying in their apartment he could sleep inside their carport storage locker. he was staying in the locker for a while, always trying to dodge the apartment manager. jason told me how he finally got caught though. i guess at the time he was kicking the heroin addiction. doctors had him on heavy doses of vitamin C which made him pee out his ass. one afternoon in the carport he had to crap so bad and he had nothing to wipe with or no place to go. jason grabbed a couple of dirty sweat socks out of the carport locker, dropped his drawers in the apartment parking lot and did his business. while he was wiping his hide with the sweatsocks jason looked up to notice the apartment manager was watching jason from a nearby window. oops.

  5. yup Jason Blore was at my 21st b day. I had a bunch of friends i invited about half hellions and half nice(?) people. all the “nice” people were to weak to make it out to this piece of property way out in the woods for the party. I had a keg of some super ruthless beer, and someone was passing out LSD, so people were f’d up hard. Jason Blore was being hizsef and lighting things on fire and whatnot, he and my buddy jason stuart got into a brawl. It was Sin Parkrz bday party as well and she and me hunkered down between some cars while things whet all nutz. It is true in the morning Blore jerked of a dog and krapt hiz pants. He was i good form that day.

    He used to make me bust up by singing “shake your love…come on and shake your love!!!” while swinging his arms like a spastic Jr High cheerleader. That and i saw him ask a couple of gals “are you hiv positive…would you like to be?” man he was to weird to live. Hope he found a good dope dealer in hell. RIP hellion.

    DT

  6. hey,

    do you have any other stories about jason? it was good to read about him. i never wrote much down.

  7. Jason B. was my first boyfriend, i was 17 and he was 25…yeah, he would laugh because he would have his friend B, who was in a ltr with a first cousin, drive him out to my highschool to meet me….they would laugh “yeah, your girlfriend is your cousin, my girlfriend is in highschool…” jason would make up songs about me for my parents : “I wanna go down on you…wanna love you…MAKE you go poo!!” One time with my family on thanksgiving, he had me on his lap, and said, “baby, I just wanna shove avocado in your sweet box and some garlic and tomato, and fuck you real hard till guacomole comes squishing out…” Oh yeah, and for our first date, he begged and begged to cook me and my family dinner…so cousin fucker drives us out to my house, and we never stoppd on the way to get any food to cook…then at the last minute we passed a convenient store…”Stop stop, I have to go in and get groceries..” So he comes out with a small bag…when we got home, he dumped the contents of the bag on the table, then passed out drunk on the floor….in the bag were two packages of chili flavored top ramen…Oh man, he was so fun…there are more stories…..sure do miss the guy sometimes…on the 25 it will be his 10 year anniversary…..RIP Dogboy….I know how you got your name….

  8. correction, the 23rd…sorry jason…its been a long time…

  9. talia,

    i can remember a few other things about Jason that were kinda amusing. he came by the B street house one night all banged up and bruised. when i answered the door and let him in he was all pissed off. said he was walking around downtown by the library by 4th and E streets when a pickup truck full of college frat boys got out of the back of the truck, surrounded him and proceeded to beat the shit out of him. when i asked him if he provoked it or mouthed off at them he swore over and over again that he didn’t start the fight. knowing Jason, i was skeptical and just laughed at him then offered him a beer. he always was walking around the downtown area wearing those gauntlets and getting into scrapes with people.

    i think some of the funniest shit he did was constantly shoplifting from the Safeway at Mendocino Ave. and Steele Lane store. that was before the center was remodeled into the eyesore that it is today. Jason used to steal steaks and canned food like in a scene from Animal House where he’d be jamming the shit under his shirt and into his shorts. if he had a backpack he’d just load it up regardless if shoppers were nearby. they got wise to him and tried to catch him on a few occassions, once Jason was confronted by a security guard in the lobby and to escape Jason picked up a fire log and smacked the security guard in the noggin with it. the final incident came one night when nobody was in the store. apparently Jason loaded up his backpack with goods and the store’s night crew locked the lobby doors trapping him inside. then they called the cops. when Jason tried to bail out realizing he was locked in, he frantically ran up and down the store’s aisles putting everything back. so the cops get there find out he’s got nothing on him and they told the store’s staff to let him go. what else could they do? technically to be caught shoplifting you have to be outside the store with stolen item on you. i’m sure they were frustrated as hell but had no choice but to let him walk.

    i also remember a girl he was dating for a long while named Amy. she got some in heritance or some shit and her and Jason went travelling around in a little convertible euro sportscar. she was kinda goofy but nice enough. they ended up at a porn convention in las vegas or reno and i heard some crazy shit went down between the two of them that i probably shouldn’t write about here. all hectic but hilarious. the last time i saw Amy she was pretty strung out and left with no loot. she had fallen crossing a street downtown to say hi to Jason and when she stepped off the curb she fell trying to break her fall between parked cars. she managed to put a hand on either car but still somehow managed to smack her noggin on the pavement.

    i think Jason missed his calling in life. he should have been a stand up comedian or something.

  10. i have a gut bustingly funny voice message he left in 98 -his per usual routine of defecating something brilliant on my answering machine. what i’m hoping for is that someone has that man on film, and that i get to see it.

  11. i uploaded a shot of mr. Blore at Bstreet. this was probably a short while before the incident with the meter maid and dingbat hairdressers took place. Jason is on the far left. i’ve forgotten who the girl was. i know this was about the time “Front Yard Hair Salon” took place because not long afterward i painted my entire room flat black. looked sick with the blood red carpeting…

  12. Do you know about the coffin ? the one he slept in, not the one he is in.

  13. Hi Brock.

    I vaguely remember something about Blore having a coffin for a coffee table or something but no, I never saw it.

  14. do you know anything about where he was buried?

  15. talia,

    I think Chris W. told me he was cremated and returned to his folks up in Grass Valley/Nevada City area. That’s about all I remember.

  16. yeah that’s what i heard at the time. do you have any idea how i could find out / contact his family?

  17. Talia,

    email me.

    I can put you in touch with one of his family friends that probably knows contact info etc.

  18. God I loved Jason. I met for the first time at the Old Vic on 4th Street in Santa Rosa. He and his friends were sitting next to my girlfriends and me. Jason was shooting spit wads through a straw at his friends. I couldn’t believe he was acting so immature, but I couldn’t help laughing. My friends were disgusted. He and I talked the rest of the night but I wouldn’t give him my number – I knew he was trouble. A few days later I ran into him again at the Old Vic. This time he gave me his number, but I still didn’t give him mine. He told me he worked at a diner down on Mendocino. I don’t know why, but one day I decided to pay him a visit. I remember when I walked in there was this huge jukebox at the front door. He was just walking behind it when he saw me. When he came out the other side he had this look on his face of total disbelief. He asked what I was doing there and I told him I’d come to see him. He wouldn’t let me leave after that. He made me dinner and told me to hang out until he got off. I think he thought he’d never see me again. So I stayed, and we ended up dating for about a year.

    All my friends and family thought I was nuts for dating him. I probably was. I actually had one person tell me, “Run, don’t walk, RUN away from him.” But I couldn’t. He was irresistible to me. I had so much fun with him. I couldn’t help but love him. But I knew it couldn’t last. He was just…Jason. We finally really split when I left for college. One night before I moved we spent the night with some of his friends out at river. His friends were up doing coke all night. I’d never done anything like that so I was a little freaked out. He was so sweet, he stayed with me in another room and we talked until I fell asleep. At one point he got up to go to the bathroom and when he came back he thought I was asleep. He stroked my hair and said, “I know I have to let you go. I love you so much, but I know I have to let you go.” I’ll never forget that. I pretended to be asleep because I didn’t want him to know that I heard him.

    I know there are a ton of crazy stories about him. He was totally fucking insane – but he was by far the most chivalrous boyfriend I ever had. He’d always opened doors for me. He’d always jump to grab groceries or bags out of my arms. He used to make me breakfast in bed. He would always pay for my drinks or dinner. When he’d come visit me he’d bring flowers that he picked from somebody’s yard. One time he came to my house in the middle of the night. I opened the door and in one hand he had a bottle of vodka, in the other hand he had a fist fill of calla lilies, and on his face a bleeding, blackening eye. I asked him what happened and I said some guy hit him in the head with a shovel while he was picking me flowers in the guy’s backyard. I used to love visiting him when he was bartending because the second I walked in the door he’d lock his eyes on me and he’d tell people at the bar to get out of my way so I could have a seat. He had his faults and he was a mess, but he always made me feel special. He had an amazing ability to make people around him feel special, even if he felt like shit.

    When I had gone off to college he started doing heroin again. He never really wanted me to know, but I remember one time when I came back for a visit I wanted to see him. We spent the whole day together laughing and hanging out as friends. He finally said to me, “I want to keep hanging out with you, but I need to shoot up.” I had never seen anybody do it before – so I asked if I could watch. He and I talked about his addiction and how he wanted to quit. To his credit he actually did kick it by himself…well with the help of friends too. Jason’s liver was destroyed though. He had to get dialysis sometimes because his liver was failing. He told me the doctor said he wouldn’t live to me 40. He always knew he was going to die young. The last time I saw Jason I was home from college. We went to have a picnic in Guerneville. When I went to pick him up his friend said, “Jason sure does think a lot of you.” It made me feel great. Typical, Jason making me feel special. That was two weeks before he died.

    I remember when I found out he was dead. My old roommate had moved to New York and called me up. I was so happy to hear from him but he stopped me talking and asked if I’d heard what happened to Jason. I kept asking him, “Are you sure? Are you sure it was Jason?” I called Cindy to confirm. I wouldn’t believe it. Whoever answered the phone said she couldn’t talk. I said, “I just heard something – I need to know if it’s true.” I couldn’t even say what it was. I asked the person on the phone, “Is it true?” He said, “Yeah, it’s true.” I hung up and slid down to the floor. I couldn’t stop crying for days. The ceremony was at the Rainbow Cattle Company on Halloween Day – so appropriate. I wrote a poem for him that I read at the ceremony – somewhere I have it, I should find it. I remember that last line was something like, “With a heavy hand I raise my cup, a toast to you, let’s get fucked up.” We all cheered – Jason would have loved it.

    Thanks for sharing your stories. I still think about him all the time. I drink a Wild Turkey and Coke for him every August 4th – his birthday.

    • Mandy, I have a copy of the poem, you wrote it down for me after the ceremony. Want me to scan it? papaya1207 at yahoo.com

  19. Mandy that was a good read. Thanks for taking the time to post it. I remember the farewell ceremony for Jason at the Rainbow Cattle Company and yeah I agree having it on Halloween was a good day to hold it. Right after the gig Jay Gill and I hot-footed it to the Warfield to see the Cramps. That also seemed kinda appropriate for Jason… it was one hell of a night.

  20. Jason also left an eternal mark in my soul…I met Jason my freshman year of high school before all the ruckus and turmoil in his life and before his calloused family ousted him. Being young and naive…he introduced me to many of my “firsts”…time flies…but I will never forget him. I run into Miles in Grass Valley every year or two and it reminds me of Jason every time. It would be great if any of you have any photos you can post…I would love to see them….shit…someone needs to make a move of his life.

  21. Fuck.
    I just found out that Jason died. I was going through some old boxes and found photos of him, some jewelry he made, and a few of letters he sent. Of course I Googled him to see how he was doing…
    Jason and I hung out in Seattle during the early 90’s. We ended up in some bizarre situations! Those were interesting, wonderful, horrible, super fun house, crazy ass times. If I ever get over the shock of learning how he died I’ll write about some of our adventures.
    Last time I saw Jason he had managed to kick and he begged me to do the same. He was the first person to genuinely offer me help and I’ll always be grateful for that.
    I have some pictures of the crazy bastard that can be posted. (With other’s identities changed to protect the innocent!). Send me an email and I’ll get them off to you straight away.
    Damn it….. I loved that boy.

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