MEETING CRAIG WAGNER

Oh, to travel America and the open road. Especially when you’re not doing the driving. 

I had done this particular trip before. On The Dog as they say.. The Greyhound bus.

It was the affordable way to travel for the dirtier denizens of our society. No half decent human being would EVER subject themselves to the punishment the dog can deal out.It could be considered a large, long trailer with seating on both sides and the shitter in the back. It reeked of whatever agent they used to mask the original odor in the first place.So imagine having to endure 3 plus days on this journey. AND you’re only 15 years old. 

I would often be mistaken much older for my age and also for being in the military. I had a really close shaved haircut and traveled with all my belongings in a gunny sack. A green military bag for all their stuff, which I obtained at the army surplus. Which is where I also got my combat boots. So, I guess I can see how I was putting that vibe out. 

But this was also the early 80’s and what T shirt you wore, spoke volumes about WHO you were.

That is what set me apart here. It was a fucking killer print I have never seen before or since of Suicidal Tendencies. Had the sleeves cut off and the sides split. And when I boarded the bus for a return trip BACK to Indiana, this was my calling card and it got the attention of two dudes as soon as I boarded in downtown Tucson. When the bus station was across from Hotel Congress. They also had a “calling card” that only certain people would know. This was more intense than just a shirt too. It was a tattoo. And not just any tattoo, but a MOTORHEAD tattoo.

The best band ever. It’s a know fact to any punk or metal head. It was this tattoo, that turned my head as I searched for an empty seat. Hopefully not too far from this lot…

The bus pulled out and immediately the older of the two came over grinning from ear to ear.He said “Hey.. My name is Craig. Where ya headed?” And he plopped down into the empty seat next to me. I told him “Indiana” and that was about it. I just though he was too cool to want to talk with me and that couldn’t have been further from the truth. 

With the passing of time, details are lost, but he introduced me to his brother. We talked music and all that. I showed him my puny “X” tattoo. He didn’t laugh or anything and just said “Oh, I love them!”

There was a stop somewhere along the way I do recall, that we got off and had a little time. The three of us headed to a store and they ended up getting some peppermint schnapps. We snuck it back on the bus and all took turns knippin’ on it. The stories continued and they told me about being from Santa Rosa, CA. Tales of seeing all the good bands and then the bus stopped and they had to get off. It occurred, I never even asked where they were going. 

I believe it was New Mexico… Craig leaned over to me and snuck the schnapps into my leather jacket inside pocket and handed me something. “You got a bit of a trip ahead of you and you might need this more than me.” It was some sorta sleeping pills. Nothing heavy… If I remember correctly!

This was a mighty generous offer and made me feel a little better about this hellish journey I was in for. 

I had to go back to Indiana because It was the middle of summer when I moved to Tucson and It was too much for me. I begged my Great Grandmother, Hazel, for the bus fair. It was like a hundred bucks or something. I loved her so much. I could trust her with my secrets and know she passed no judgement. Just wanted me to be safe out there at 15 years old. I was tossed to Tucson when my Mom had enough of me fucking up her perfect new marriage. “SO… You wanna go meet your Dad?!?!” I jumped at the chance and left immediately after my sophomore year at Pike High School. Enduring the bus trip that time around, I knew exactly what I was in for this trip. Like my friend Abel said one time after taking the bus up to Portland to see me. “Dude, I swear, when you hit Ashland, the people on the bus are like in a G.G. Allin look a like contest. They smell like him too!”

So, I just popped the pills into my mouth and took the cap off the schnapps and guzzled. 

Wake me up when I get there….

We’ll skip that part actually and just say, me going back to Indiana and thinking it was gonna work, was insane. I mean, I was 15! Come on… I wasn’t the brightest bulb yet.

I can only equate it to taking a caged animal at the zoo and setting it free for the first time.Then go and retrieve said animal and put it back in the cage. Not a good recipe.I hopped on the next Dog outta town and relished the trip and all the new people I would meet.

Hell… I slept through one stop and ended up in Oklahoma somehow and had to get on another bus going the way I need to go. That set me back another day or so, but what the fuck. 

There really wasn’t anyone especially waiting for me. 

The situation with Pops was one that had me running for the nearest exit and shacking up with anyone that would take me. Girlfriends, maybe their unsuspecting parents, schoolmates, girls I would take home. Oh wait, I mean, take me to their homes. You get the picture. I was scraping by. So much so that the girl I was with at this point was a beautiful girl who actually sought me out. Quite shocking, as it may have been the first REAL chance I had at really being with a woman. Not a girl…

We had ourselves this killer hole in the ground that we called home. And when I say hole in the ground, I mean A HOLE IN THE GROUND. It was under an adobe in Tucson. We “rented” the place from maybe someone we knew from school?!?! I’m not certain. The woman who lived there spoke little English and was old school Mexican. She cooked stuff for us and I think was happy to have us there. We were in fucking High School and there was actually another couple that we shared it with. Man… I went back there one time and had a chance to peek in the “basement” that we lived in and it was shocking. Even to me… I mean, just ask anyone from Tucson if they have a “basement” and you’ll get the picture.

We had a 7-11 near us that we frequented for many of the things we needed. The girls with their cigarettes and us with our beer. Well, we all smoked and drank, what am I talking about?

Anyway, to give this some more air and let the timeline shore up a little bit, I had started school at Cholla H.S. for a semester and then got over to Project MORE. It was an alternative school that had all sorts of kids trying to finish the time there. I’m gonna guess that it was at least 6 month to a year passed since I was on that initial bus trip home.

Being broke and having tons of time on our hands, we had those hands extended for spare change at the local 7-11 one afternoon. Nothing special was going down except the usual “Get a job!” And sexual advances on the girls… Then a motorcycle was pulling into the lot. I always checked out bikes and the make and model. What the person riding was wearing and everything. I grew up in it and longed for my own bike real soon.

This particular make was 70’s era B.M.W. the exact details lost to time, but the ONE detail I did notice on the rider was a Motorhead tattoo!!! Nice…. 

Wait!!!???!!! I remembered a guy who had a similar tattoo, but anyone could get that tattooed.

But his hair… It was spiky and not long and greasy. His face too… It was young at dare I say movie star like. It wasn’t some old grey beard! This was all a little too close to coincidence, so I followed behind. I let him do his thing and I believe he grabbed some beer. He was making his way to exit and I looked him straight on and asked “Is your name Craig?” 

He kind of looked surprised and then I think it started to sink in with him, and before he could put it together, I explained that I was that kid on the bus!!!

We both confirmed that indeed it was the both of us on the bus that time and we made our way outside. He had a girl with him and explained what it was all about and I caught my lady up on the near cosmic coincidence that was taking place at of all places, a 7-11.

Craig then explained how they had literally JUST pulled into to Tucson and were wondering about their next move. He mentions something about needing to unload some smoke he had brought and I explained that was NOT gonna be a problem. He then said they needed a place to stay. I said, again, that will not be a problem. “You can stay with us!”

Now, this is where again, I might not remember everything. But they probably followed us the few blocks back to the hole and took one look in there and decided to take their chances with the rattlesnakes and javelina in the desert.

Betsy and I did eventually get out of that little pit and got a nice space on the corner of 6th and ?

This place actually had a basement. I KNOW huh?!?!? What are the odds. 

We rented it from an elderly couple who live across the alley. The house itself was across from Tucson H.S.

We had random “Hobo” types stop and knock on our door. They asked for food and we were miffed by it. I think we mentioned it to someone one day and they said we had “Hobo Markings” in the yard. Some rocks were arranged a certain way and that was the signal.

We also had a really spooky situation there.

One night, Betsy and I decided to spend the night in the front living room. We had lived there for a little while already and felt okay there. Well, not this night. I know we weren’t creeping ourselves out. We had a pull out couch that was there when we moved in, and we just were laying there and both of us sort of got up at the same time and said enough of this.

It was the weirdest vibe I’ve ever experienced. It was definitely like some was watching us. 

And we were not welcome there at that time. I got our blankets rounded up and Betsy was back in our bedroom before I could get there.

To be honest, I think it had something to do with that basement. When we moved in, of course we went down there and thought “Band Room” but it was all finished and had surfaced areas. 

But, at the end of the room was this steamer trunk. 

Just sitting there. I mean, the place did come “furnished” but what was this?

So we opened it and there were some clothes and who can remember. But I did get a cool pair of paints that were awesome 50’s or 60’s era. They were green slack type pants that were pegged. Man, they were sweet. Maybe the dead haunted our living room for messing with the trunk down there?

The place we had was attached to other units and had a courtyard in the center of our backyards. We eventually got Craig and his girl moved into our next door unit.

It was cool, because we all were taking care of each other and Craig and I tried to put together some music, but I was just a drummer and he was just a singer. I’m not sure if he played guitar or not….

But that fizzled, and we still were friends. Spending time together listening to records and just hanging out in general. He turned me onto Metallica’s demo tape when we lived together. We both loved FANG. And of course Motorhead!!!

I never got up to any trouble with Craig. He always seemed focused.

My life was swirling at a mile a minute and he seemed a little older and knew what to do.

With him just hitting town, he still need to find his crowd. I think he fell in with the Blood Spasm crew and it’s not like our worlds never collided. Hell, they were our best buds.

But, at some point we all moved on… He got another place and we did as well. 

Craig and Leelanne became a “Thing” and were soon to be wedded!

Man, he was trucking and I was just spinning my wheels. 

Well, I probably didn’t need to be married at 16 years old. That’s for sure.

But, they were doing it and we all got to be a part of the great day.

I recall we departed from the OZ house in Sam Zero’s truck. It was a tiny Toyota pickup and probably fit 5-6 people. Tops…

The wedding was at a home I believe, somewhere “WE” were not used to being. In the hills or something like that. It was kind of intimate and family was in town, so of course our “crew” was the odd man out here. We of course hit the bar and scarfed any food available and then made our way out to the pool area. Man, this was swank! 

I remember a nice big pool with people just chilling out and having a great time. 

A little band was gathered in the corner playing some standard tunes. Nothing wild, nothing too boring. Just a decent band… 

Well, get a room full of musicians all drunk and loose and said band takes a breather….

Look out!!!

“Hey Dean!!! We should get up there and play some Hendrix” Paul Young, says to me.

He was the guitarist in Blood Spasm who was known for doing a Gene Simmons gimmick with the blood capsules in the mouth routine. Looked awesome.

Anyway, we are pestering the band, they of course just give us the brush. We meander around, somewhat disgruntled and eventually just resume free drinks and food.

I make my way over to the people I came with…. ( I can’t remember if we brought Paul with us or not) But I was just chilling out on the side of the pool nearest the house. Across the pool is a small wall that surrounds the pool and property. 

Well, a little swell of commotion if going on over there and we hear people starting to yell and scream “PAUL!!! DON’T”

And before I could say “We got cactus” Paul is buck naked, with his clothes in a pile on the ground and him on top of this little retaining wall.“Hey.. Look at me!” Is what I believe he said as he proceeded to swan dive into the pool.

As he comes up from underwater, he has that huge Paul Young grin on his face and swims towards our side of the pool now. 

There were screams of all sorts that moment. Maybe delight? (Doubtful)

Maybe laughter? Oh yeah.. plenty of laughs. Uncomfortable groans of what to do next.

That was the overwhelming vibe. Paul was that turd in the punch bowl right now, and we all had the scent of shit on us as well. So, he comes up and flicks his curly long hair back and just bellows that laugh of his….

At this point people from inside are making their way to the party outside. And from here it is like this was all scripted. I swear, I thought they had this worked out together. Like in wrestling. Where the two guys do it with a nod and a wink. 

Craig approached the poolside with his just wedded in tuxedo and shining shoes. He looked like a million bucks. And he bent down to talk to Paul sorta under his breath. Bye now, EVERYONE was watching. I mean, you could hear a pin drop. And he extends his hand out to Paul as he’s saying “Paul… I think you need to get OUT of the pool!” 

As calmly and cooly as he can.

And without missing a beat (His comedic timing was perfect) Paul says to Craig…

“NO Craig, I think you need to get IN!” And just yanked Craig into the pool. I think they wrestled around and splashed each other for a split second, but it was met with utter disdain. 

I thought immediately of the suit. The host thought immediately of the cops. And were kind enough to inform us so. 

It was all a blur from there. We made our exit and were met by the sheriffs at our truck. All of us looking crazy and Paul soaking wet with his clothes half on. “Which one of you is driving?” The cops asked us. Luckily Erin got right up there and said 

“ME Officer!” They asked her if she’d been drinking and she shot back “NO, I’m straight edge and don’t drink or take drugs!” Which was NOT true, but did the trick and we got the hell out dodge. I always wonder if we were like that scene in Suburbia, when they had the funeral scene and all the girls family is there and so are the T.R. gang. 

The mom is crying about the punks being there and the dad comes over to say “Don’t you see… We don’t want you here!” And the punk says back “But she’s OUR friend too!”

I imagined that hopefully that was just silly sidebar and hopefully they went on to have a great night. And a great life… 

I kinda lost track of Craig after that. I had heard he joined the military and that was not a surprise. It made me proud to know him and that he wanted to server our country.

I ended up leaving Tucson myself not shortly there after. I moved to Portland and would often remember that bus trip long ago and Craig and how it was such a “Small World” thing when we met there at 7-11 that day. 

Then Facebook brought us all back together and a little closer. We “friended” each other and it was like no time passed. Found out he was in Austin and made it a point to catch up with him, since I am in Austin frequently. In 2019 we did that. I made my way over to his place when he got off that day and we got coffee and went back to his place and chilled outside and caught up. He had arranged for some family and friends to “Meet my buddy Dean”

He made all this food and we had his daughters over. I got to meet the girls he talked so much about. We talked about everything under the sun… Had that dinner and talked some more.He was starting a new job the next day, but that did not stop him from hanging out. He milked his time with me and we said goodnight. I crashed on the couch. Underneath the awesome Tiki painting, or burnings, that he did. He was so talented. I was marveling at the pieces all night and he just off the cuff mentioned, “Oh yeah, I did those!”

I had to get my ass back to Portland the next day and he was up before I even got going so all I had was that small 18 hours with him, but I left full. 

Full of love and companionship. Full of the faith in family and just being there for people. When Craig was with you, he was with YOU. He made you feel important and also shared what was important to him. 

When I think of some of the last post he made about having a cook out with the neighbors that he met, and how they hung out talked after dinner and then figured they would do it more often. Craig had invited one them to a punk rock show, FEAR if I remember correctly. THAT just spoke volumes about WHO he was. To ME at least….

An honest, hard working, patriotic, punk rocker who just loved to break down that stereotype of the menacing punk rocker. If you even dared say hi to him, that’s it, you were hooked. He had ya and before ya knew it, you could be in a band, or riding motorcycles, making art, enjoying live bands, traveling the world… Whatever it was, he seemed ready willing and able.

When we visited, he told me this story about getting ready to leave somewhere after deployment and the higher ups came around looking for “Volunteers” to load ALL the luggage and stuff. Craig said “I raised my hand and said We’ll do it!” Then all the other men in his platoon started to moan and groan “Why did you volunteer US? We are almost done and out of here?”

Craig just said “Trust Me!” 

So they got to humping all this gear and breaking a sweat as everyone else boarded the plane home. When they got all the luggage loaded, the head honcho says to him “Wagner, your group rides first class all the way home!” Craig just gave that all knowing grin and said “SEE?”

I learned of Craigs passing this week and it’s been sitting kinda hard with me.

Trying to imagine the void that his girls and everyone in his life is feeling. It hurts…Only the good die young?!?! 

Huh….  Well that shit sucks!!!!

Craig, you worked hard, you played hard dude!!! Enjoy that first class trip home, brother. 

You fucking earned it. Respect!!!

Your Cosmic Greyhound Bus Buddy:

Dean 13 Miles