Mike Ness’s music and style has influenced me greatly over the years… I think maybe that Social Distortion was kind of like the missing link I had been searching myself for musically… it was the edge I was needing. I have two of my favorites for you today…
I can’t tell you how many times I have sat around strumming and singing Angel’s Wings over the years…
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Angel’s Wings – Sex, Love and Rock ‘n’ Roll 2oO4 ♫
Down on the World Again – White Light, White Heat, White Trash 1996 ♫
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Two songs released eight years apart, from the band’s two consecutive studio albums. Part of that long gap was shaped by the death of longtime guitarist Dennis Danell in 2OoO, a loss that deeply affected the band and delayed their return to the studio.
I also included a cool short interview with Mike Ness from 2o25. After undergoing surgery and treatment for throat cancer, he’s back out on the road doing what he loves. You just can’t stop the guy!
Also they just put out a new album, Born to Kill… in May.
Back around 2oO4, my baby sister met this guy. He was a punk rock skateboarder dude, not my sister’s normal type. His name was Tony. We became good friends. He hung out with guys in bands. On the weekends I would jam with them all. Tony turned me onto this next band, Mike Ness and the boys, aka Social Distortion, or Social D as their fans call them.
I had heard of them. I was familiar with two of their songs and I liked them, but I had no idea the depth of their music, and little did I know they would become my favorite.
Mike Ness is special. He founded the band in 1978 in Fullerton, California, Orange County, just outside of LA. Their early stuff was just raw rebellious punk rock, but they evolved into something unique. They are a mix of punk, country, rock, and blues, almost like a rockabilly type sound, very melodic but gritty. Mike writes great songs, lyrically and musically.
They are still going strong today, just put out a new record. They are true to themselves, the music, the fans. Mike and the boys are all heart. This is what I love about them. I think it’s why I connect like I do.
I have been deeply influenced by them. Tony died in a motorcycle accident a few years after I met him. I’m reminded of him often as I strum and sing their songs.
Here’s two good ones to start you off…
Reach for the Sky — 2oO4, Sex, Love and Rock ’n’ Roll 🎶
Sports have always been a huge part of my life. They’ve been there for as long as I can remember. I come from a long line of athletes. My grandfather even had an opportunity to pitch for the Detroit Tigers, but he chose to serve in World War II instead. My father was a great athlete too, and he was also my coach growing up, teaching me the game—and a lot about life—along the way…
I love a lot of sports, but my two main ones are American football and baseball. I played Little League all through my childhood and into my teens. I didn’t just throw on a uniform and participate—I excelled. I was a star, haha. I’m normally pretty humble, but I want to be accurate here so you can feel what I’m putting down 😅 I was mainly a pitcher, but in between starts I played shortstop and left field, doing whatever my team needed… I also hit for power and average.
In little league.. I once made an insane diving catch in left field to win the game… the crowd went nuts… bum-rushed me and carried me off the field on their shoulders cheering haha…
Sports were where I learned who I was when things got hard…
I kept it going into junior high and high school, playing both baseball and football. On the football field I lined up at quarterback, wide receiver, and at cornerback on defense, and I excelled there too. The dream was always to try and go pro in baseball, but along the way I got pulled into the music scene and ended up chasing that route instead. Even then, I never really left sports behind. I kept playing, jumping into league softball over the years and staying connected to the game any way I could.
As far as watching sports, my heart stays close to home. I love the Atlanta Braves and Falcons, and when it comes to college football, I’m a huge Georgia fan—Go Dawgs! Major League Baseball, the NFL, and college football are my mainstays, but I also enjoy basketball and golf, both playing and watching. Sports have always been more than just games to me. I’m thankful I grew up the way I did, grateful for the chance to play, I miss them days…
My first year in little league… im holding the bat wrong in this pic.. my hands are opposite how they should be lol
1 Corinthians 9:24–26 (NIV)
Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize… Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last, but we do it to get a crown that will last forever…
I was asleep… — until I opened my eyes… — I was in an old town… a third world place…
Cobblestone streets… — run down… — falling apart…
There were people everywhere— on the outside.. they seemed okay… but once they opened their mouths… — I saw they were falling apart too…
Nothing but rusted words… — no faith… — no hope… — nothing good to say… They believed in nothing…
Just empty speech… empty phrases… — nothing on the inside… Painted smiles that no one cares to look through… So I shook it off me— — continued on…
In the distance.. I could see huge pyramid-like structures… They were white marble— — steep… — with hewn steps stretching across… Carved for someone braver… — layered one upon another… — like a man-made mountain range…
Magnificent to look at… — like the teeth of God… — so high up… — bruising the sky… — such a challenge…
Something inside me cried out… Something feral and buried… I knew— I must climb…
I started walking toward them… — because I’m about to move up… 😉
The people started yelling at me— Their voices like a flock of crows… — black… — circling…
You’re not good enough… you cant… you wont make it… it’s impossible… it’s too much… you’re crazy… you’re going to regret it… you will die… Yada… yada… yada…
Wrong words— — like an avalanche… — thundering down from the mountains… Bursting into sparks as they hit me— straight firing me up… setting my spirit ablaze…
My eyes locked… I started to run — harder… — faster… — gaining momentum… — like jets on a runway…
I took off… — climbing higher… — and higher…
The incline at times seemed straight up… — I could actually feel myself getting tired…
But I kept on— — never thought of giving up… — never worried… — never stopping… — never slowing to catch my breath…
I’ve never had a better feeling in my life… — awake or asleep… — I felt so alive… — so happy… — it was unreal…
So determined — — no one and nothing could stop me… — nothing was impossible…
It was the greatest feeling ever… I carried it with me all day after waking…
Mountains mean nothing…
And soon I will rest… — on the summit… — where she waits… Take her hand… — be her man…
I climb for that moment… — a deep kiss… — a life… — that quiets the world below
Little by little… day by day…
Habakkuk 3:19
“The Lord God is my strength… and He will make my feet like deer’s feet… and He will make me walk upon my high places…”
I try to find some peace of mind When my life’s treating me unkind… yeah… Pain will be my motivation I’m gonna use my imagination Yeah… I’m gonna live before I die…
This song has the “F” word in it… only once… in one line… so you may not want to listen… if it may offend you… 👇
I was born in September of 73`… a Gen X kid… when I look back now… I realize things…
Yeah maybe I was doing stuff early on that probably could have waited until I was an adult…
but life was different back then…
the world was wider… lighter… rawer… simpler… all at once…
And us kids…
we were all little grown-ups…
From the time I was about eight until I was fourteen…
life couldn’t have been much better…
I grew up in a fairly large community of side by side houses… side by side families… where everybody knew everybody… neighbors didn’t just nod — they shared life… they borrowed sugar… they brought each other meals… they sat in yards and talked about real things… hearts… stories… struggles… faith… loss… laughter…
It wasn’t perfect — but man… it was real…
My great-grandfather lived with us in those days…
he was one of a kind…
old as dirt… tougher than leather… stubborn as wet cement…
he had lived much… And he never ran out of stories…
He’d sit outside every day… in this beat up old folding chair…
And half the time.. I’d pull another chair beside him… and just listen…
He was a war veteran — A Purple Heart… other medals he earned through blood and grit…
Infantry… France… WW2…
he’d tell me stories of laughing under fire… marching… waiting… freezing… fighting… barely surviving…
And I’d pepper him with a thousand questions… because I couldn’t get enough…
Later.. I found out from my grandmother… that he had taken many lives in battle… those stories… he never told… those belonged to him… and God alone…
What I did see… was a man who had walked through hell…
And somehow came back kinder… tougher…
And still able to laugh a little… And love a lot…
And without making speeches… without preaching a word…
he was shaping the boy sitting beside him…
In those days… my parents worked…
so most times I had to fend for myself…
I had a house key… freedom… responsibility…
but there were rules…
Do the right thing when nobody is watching…
Be about character… Be about integrity…
Be about it…
Be a decent human being…
And oh yeah… be home by dark…
On the edge of our community… the world exploded into a massive forest deep woods stretching for miles… thousands of acres… trees… creeks… hidden lakes… trails… wildlife…
a giant playground for kids who hadn’t yet learned to be afraid of living…
I spent countless days exploring those woods…
fishing… riding dirt bikes… shooting guns…
no supervision… no phones… just trust…
Sometimes on Saturdays I’d wake up before the sun… pack myself a sack lunch and some drinks… grab my fishing poles and tackle box… strap it all to the back of my dirt bike… And disappear into the woods…
All… day… long…
Sometimes friends came along… sometimes it was just me and the world — And honestly… those were some of the best days…
Many mornings my great-grandfather would stop me before I left… hand me his old .22 pistol in a worn leather holster… And tell me to take it “for protection”… because us kids needed guns back then haha… we learned early… how to treat and respect a firearm… it was a great privilege… responsibility… And it was ours…
I’d strap it to my waist like a cowboy… fire up that dirt bike… And ride off into the blue…
Freedom… Adventure… Responsibility… Trust…
A childhood that felt like life training…
And I am grateful… deeply grateful…
Those years shaped me… they toughened me… they softened me… they taught me courage… solitude… resourcefulness… respect… curiosity… wonder… independence…
I didn’t know it then…
but those were Holy days…
And I am thankful I grew up when I did…
in a world… full… of little grown-ups…
`’x.~¡-^;‐
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Also… my great-grandfather’s middle name and mine… are the same… Loia… pronounced Loy like Joy…
I forgot to mention my dog… Buck… he was there too… he didn’t live inside a fence… he never knew a leash… he was free to roam… just like me… he followed me everywhere… he loved to swim… while I fished…
Heart of Loia `'.,°~ 