Scar Tissue (68 page)

Not sure who the little three-year-old monkey is on the left, but that’s my mom at age twenty-three looking like she’s thirteen. We lived in California then and apparently I rather enjoyed her company.

For me, this group of four black-and-white snapshots is nothing short of monumental in my tiny life. It’s me smoking pot for the first time. My dad was taking the picture and I was handing the joint to a pretty girl who was about to take her top off. I had only been in L.A. for a day or two and was on my way to doing almost everything imaginable in that kitchen. Palm Avenue, West Hollywood. 1973.

Flea and I have always had a bizarre and sometimes dangerous bond. Like Cain and Abel without the bloodshed. Here we seem to be scowling at each other’s very souls. We’ve probably played music together 10,000 times and I can’t wait for the next. Circa 1990 or ’91.

After we recorded
Freaky Styley
with George Clinton, he would periodically pop up at our club shows and make himself at home onstage. What a sensational stroke of good luck for us from my accidental mentor. If memory serves, this is us at Jack Spats in the Southbay, deep behind the orange curtain and on our way to a very long night.

I think I got these shorts from Bob Forrest’s girlfriend Sabrina Judge. The knee pads? Well, I was still getting high during the tour for
Uplift Mofo
and I would get some wacky ideas. That’s our old manager Mark Johnson in the background. Circa 1987.

Here we have the ultra New York East Village vixen, Claire Essex, punching the clock at Balthazar’s about one month before I met her. I actually met her at her workplace in 1999. We toughed it out for almost four years after that, with a few breaks along the way. Her spell on me was beyond powerful and our time together was invaluable. Kiss.

After our first gold record with
Mother’s Milk
, we got pretty cocky without even realizing it. This is us backstage at the Greek Theater with the actor Michael McKean in full character as David St. Hubbins from
Spinal Tap
. He did a five-minute introduction for us that we all watched from the wings. Needless to say, we were in stitches. Literally. 1989.

This is Claire and me messing around in a drugstore photo booth. The picture always made me think of some new-wave German techno duo called Wish You Were Here. We shared a lot of love, she and I.

Don’t ask me where. It’s backstage somewhere on tour for
Freaky Styley
. Flea, me, Slim, and Cliff. Come to think of it, it might be Dingwalls in London, England, because that’s where Hillel wore the black leather Swedish military overalls. Skinny little tore-back road dogs. Gotta love it.

Professional photographers get some pretty bad ideas about what backdrops will look good for your band. This one is actually kind of attractive with its wannabe pink, alleyway chic. Back then Flea would let me draw all over him for photo shoots. It was a tradition. I think it was 1987. Left to right: Flea, me, Jackie I., and the golden ring–fingered Slim Bob Billy.

There were times when all Hillel and I had was each other. We were fucked up and understood what it was to be living in an out-of-control fog. We still had style and we still had funk. Looks like we’re in the back of a car, but I have no clue when or where. Circa
Freaky Styley
.