Han Vance “peach” readings/signings:

1. FRI May 26, 2017 (7-9pm) Criminal Records Little 5 Points Atlanta, with Tom Cheshire of Silver Stone Press.

2. Memorial Day (all morning) 2017 Hidden Lantern Bookstore Rosemary Beach, Florida. Next to Amavida Coffee; setting up outside.

3. A3C Festival Oct 4, 2017 (opening act) Union EAV East Atlanta Village.

Excerpt from “peach”:

1. My Moment Of Joy
Before The Sun Also Rose
I Was In Bloom, Nirvana
Working In San Francisco
Coffee Roasting Co In
Atlanta: Center Of The South
Words Came To My Mouth
After The Alarm Clock
It Was FRI, So Rock
Show Was On Said Radio
Waiting For The Floyd
Then It Came And My Fav
Wish You Were Here Heard
Loud, Lights Back Off And
Walked Toward The Couch
With A Water, The Elixir Of Life
Washed Away All Strife
Faced It, My True/New Joy
And In These Reflections
On Life & On The Picture Wall
Trains, In Both Directions

2. What I Love About This
Presunrise Employment
Is Watching The Trains
Buzz By, While I
Cantank A Vinegar Piss
Or Preach About A Thing
Or Two I Do Like, Like
Dixie’s Sunny Shore Or
A Nice Medium Roast
Big Wines And Little
Beers And My Dears
I Love My Family
Nuclear, In Particular
I Know Myself, The Shelf
Where I Keep My Crazy
The Closet Is For Skeletons
We All Have Tons Of ‘Em
But My Baggage Is Aging
While I’m In A Youth
Movement, Getting Older

3. Dark ‘N’ Deep
Your Cool Friends Dead Cold
And A ~ Byproduct, I’d Say
Of Getting Old
Is Putting Away
Unbecoming On Hold
Lest You Sleep (Weep)
With Fishes, Wishes
In The Dark ‘N’ Deep
REM Phase, U2 Phase
Bananarama Shama Lama
Phi Slamma Jamma
Honor Your Ancestors
Those Euro Capitalists
American Materialists
Philanderers. Financiers.
Aviation Pioneers, Shop
Keepers And Chiropractors
They Course
Through Me, Throwin’
Me A Bone And Washin’
Against Me In My Home

“SILVER STONE PRESS Presents” is a double reversible poetry featuring “peach” by Han Vance and “uNEVENLY yOLKED” by Tom Cheshire.

American Culture Reporter

American Culture Reporter TM is new brand by Han Vance (Editor-in-Chief) featuring Vance + other writers and artists.

www.AmericanCultureReporter.com
Copyright 2016 HV

Event&Party:

Golden State Misadventures

5th of July 7p Event&Party for Han Vance: Golden State Misadventures at A Cappella Books (on the corner of Dekalb Avenue in Inman Park of Atlanta, Georgia).

GOLDEN STATE MISADVENTURES
Previous Publicity Events and Related Media Coverage:
1. Book Soup (LA)-Sidewalk Radio, LA Weekly, Things To-Do LA
2. Distant Lands (Pasadena)-Los Angeles Times, Pasadena Weekly
3. Paradise Found (Santa Barbara)-Santa Barbara Independent
4. Alley Cat (San Francisco)-The San Francisco Examiner
5. Decatur Book Festival (Metro ATL)-JustPeace radio show

The signed Golden State Misadventures master cut version, including LOST VEGAS (bonus short story), will be available for purchase for the first time ever this 5th of July.

Don’t miss this fun FREE Event&Party!

www.silverstonepress.com if you wish to preorder a copy now.

Aclothing.company

New online store live at Aclothing.company now carrying ATL Collection by Han Vance + Michael Santini and Brand New (York) by Vance. Major credit cards are accepted. Though our payment acceptance is currently run via PayPal, PayPal account not required.
ATL Shirt Collective LogoDuane for Brand New (York)

Please shop at: http://aclothing.company/

Hanfest

(Photo by: Han Vance)

The day I moved from Marietta proper to the more distant suburbs, a punk rocker juvenile delinquent named Chris Damico was building a small wooden skateboard ramp in the street that led to my new culdesac. Though I had never ridden a skate ramp before, I’d picked up street skating about a year earlier as the sport hit a second wave of major national popularity in the mid 1980s.

It was the heat of a Southern summer, and most of my like-aged friends were living closer to the Marietta Square. I was living way out in the vast stretching sprawl of what had been previously rural, then exurban, and finally suburban Cobb County, in what was then known to be the fastest-growing civilization in the history of mankind: greater metropolitan Atlanta.

My siblings were a good bit younger than I, and I found myself with no one cool to regularly hang out with when I was not at work as a fine-dining busboy at The Planter’s restaurant. By mid-summer, my friend Doug got a Chevy Nova and was the first to get a license. He started picking me up, and I was back hanging with my old crew of friends. Before that, I skated with Damico everyday.

We grew apart, Damico and I, but we talked from time to time. Then when I was a senior, his mom moved out of the school district, and he talked my brothers and folks into letting him ride out the school year living with us. I thought it was a terrible idea, but the decision was made before I had any input. He bunked with my brothers.

For the first time, we became truly close friends. My epic high school career was winding down, so we decided to have a huge graduation party as a last hurrah. We set a date and gathered friends from neighboring schools, like Dave Weiss, at my house for a meeting and told them to tell their friends and friends of friends from many of the schools across the county.

A week before the party my parents went out of town for one night, so we threw an impromptu gathering. Hundreds of kids from my school showed up and lined my entire street with cars and trash. I paid my brothers to clean up the mess after, but I was immensely worried. We didn’t have access to enough space for the coming big graduation party, and my folks’ plans to go out of town again were suddenly cancelled. We were screwed.

My mom and stepdad’s yard at the time led to a stretch of woods that eventually led to fields behind a huge western store called Horsetown. Damico came up with the idea to rent these fields, and in a meeting in which the outcome still baffles me to this day they agreed to lease us the property for a night. We paid them a small amount of money and assured them it would be a calm affair.

As the day approached, I distributed flyers amongst the upperclassmen at my school listing my address as the location for an “Adult Graduation Party.” A teacher found one and said I could not go on with the plan, but I scoffingly told him I was eighteen and the party was the day after school ended. It was out of his jurisdiction.

My friend Todd Smalley’s band the Wild Onions agreed to play the event, and I made him promise not to reveal the real location of the party to anyone at our school. He kept my secret at Lassiter; meanwhile we called our party planning colleagues and told them to tell everyone to be at my house by 5:00 p.m.

We hung a sign on my basketball goal on the day of the fest that said: “Go To HORSETOWN.” We were there well off the street and obscured from visibility with the rock band playing as the thousands and thousands of kids began to show up. As the sun set, the traffic continued to stream into the fields. We positioned paid parking attendants in the drive to charge admission for vehicles and made hundreds of dollars over the field rental. Interestingly, Damico and I both later worked for years in the management of the parking industry.

Of course, the cops came that night. We heard it told that for a few hours they could not find the exact party location. When they did attempt to bust the party, it still went on for over an hour as they simply directed traffic out while making very few arrests for underage drinking. When the crowd finally started to thin, we grabbed as many cute girls as would follow us and led them back through the woods to the relative safety of my house.

For weeks after, we were the reigning stars of the county. I began to commonly hear the term “Hanfest” and wondered who’d coined it. About a month later, I was hanging out with my artist friend Mike Tom. He told me he’d hand-painted a sign at the entrance of the Horsetown fields that said: “HANFESTIVAL.”

Hawaii (we ascended)

Sweet dream songbirds sing me awake, as the sheer joy of realization dawns. We are here, perched in the suite of an open window resort atop the Kona coffee region of Big Island Hawaii. The busy tourist port of Kailua Kona visible to me as I stand, yet so far from our reality.

suite

Only yesterday, my true love and I landed in the tiny Kona Airport, invigorated but exhausted from our far journey from the World’s Busiest Airport in Atlanta. We’d had an early dinner in the Jetson’s-like Encounter restaurant at LAX, where the fresh Cali cuisine was only a tease for the bounty which awaited us many miles across the Pacific. Plane two seemed to soar forever.

The rental car ride revealed a bleak black frontier of lava burnt earth. After stopping in Kona for a quick glance at the ocean and an adult refreshment, we ascended.

Up On Ponce (C) 2013 HV:

Up On Ponce:

Mammas Are Chocolate Milk

Cheap American Swill

Is The High Life

And Thomas Cheshire

Will Always Be A Hero

Races, Classes, Demographics

Whites, Blacks, Hispanics

Neon-Lit Classics

Against An Old Marquis

And Just Me, See

Boozers, Cruisers And Stone Cold Losers

Atlanta, Georgia ~ Deep South

Plus, That Damn 2 Bus

Where They Ripped The Pioneer Heart

Out Of Our Fair City

Divided We Ain’t, Y’all

Summer-Winter-Spring-Fall

We All Do, Hear-I

Talkin’ ‘Bout Love

And A Revolution

Watch Wheels Spin Round

I Skyscrape Devotion

Center Of Town