The winter of fun was ending, and I was starting my first real job in Pasadena. Greg and I were listening to the Velvet Underground in the living room of that north Oakland bungalow, and I was already looking at the past six months of music, cooking and job-hunting like it was the past.
I knew something was ending. And I could only think of one way to stop it.
Right then, on March 9, 1996, he and I took out sheets of paper and wrote about what we had done that day, that very minute. I think we went to see a band that night, I may have played some basketball earlier. I invited other friends to do the same thing. And a few days later, Tom printed 50 or so copies out at the place he worked. And so was born issue one.
The same process, with just a few details changed, has repeated itself every year ever since. And it’s still the same idea: to hold on to these memories and remember those faces and celebrate the everyday.
I swear: We’ll keep writing and drawing and making music as long as we can.
Forlorn Matterhorn Publications
jtchang23 [at] gmail.com