#{Boontdusties.com}

So I’ve a put together a sort of About section which I call a NAQ – (Never Asked Questions) which seeks to explain the relationship between the Boont Dusties and Found stuff. I’ve also just copied the information below for all you lazy blokes.

1. What is a Boont Dustie?

In order to understand the meaning of this word, we must start with its history. What better source of reliable information than the Anderson Valley Beer website:

“In the 1800’s, Anderson Valley was an isolated and quite provincial farming and logging community. Life was hard, and entertainment was a luxury. Sometime around 1880, a small group of Anderson Valley residents created a few slang words to use in their private conversations, both for their own amusement, and to confound anyone who might overhear them harpin’ (talking). They created new words as they went, trying to shark (stump) their companions. Over time the vocabulary grew, as did the number of people familiar with it. Eventually, every resident of the valley had at least some knowledge of Boontling (Boonville Language), as the lingo came to be called. For many, Boontling actually became their primary language, and they had difficulty reverting to English when circumstances required it. ”

Alright, so roughly translated the word “Boont Dustie” means the Boonville Cemetary, or the people residing there.

2. So what the hell does that have to do with anything?

Let me start this way. I am part of a loose tribe of friends that found themselves in a situation that strangely mirrors this Anderson Valley niche culture. Just like the poor folks of Boonville – I too found myself stuck in a shitty little town called Brentwood, Ca – and as a matter of pure survival, became immersed in a circle of friends who had to create their own cultural identity.
[Editor: SEE PICTURE ABOVE - First Year of Liberty High School's "Facial Hair/Rock N' Roll Appreciation Club"]

We had a lot of options for how we could have turned out, and thankfully we didn’t all end up worshipping at the altar of Mariyln Manson. One of the things that I think makes us special is that we didn’t really use the default and turn into a bunch of “punks”. That is, we didn’t use words like “diy” or have a food not bombs – but what sprang out of our tribe were things that were genuinely our own. Just like the book we found in our high school library regarding the history of Boontling – we had created our own protected, and quite funny, community.

I don’t mean to be exclusive. However inside our jokes are – I still think that any group of people who feel they have their own secret language, who have a “difficulty reverting back to [the rest of the world] when circumstance require it”, and who value their friends more than anything – are, in essence, doing the exact same thing as the Boont Dusties. This option is open to everyone.

I’m interested in the idea, but I’m not really an authority on how other groups of kids fit this same model. I see similar trends and patterns in other folks in my generation – and I also see moments when we are the only people laughing in the movie theatre. Where is it universal to my generation and where is it specific to just our little circle of 20 or so? I’m in the process of figuring it out.

I think that what I’m really interested in is finding glory in one’s local identity and group of friends and knowing that one day we will all disappear. The people right here around us are the most important things in life – and I want to dwell on the details.

3. That sounds pretty hippy-dippy. Does the word mean anything a little more tangiable?

I’m glad you never asked. The Boont Dusties was also the name of band. Well, sortof. Back in high school Jake and Josh prophesized that their ridiculous musical outfit the Perpetual Elvis Machine(P.E.M.) would record under four different band names – each of which who would be imaginary “influences” on the P.E.M. Back in highschool Anonymous Josh and Captain Inconspicuous(Jake) were pretty intrigued with the idea of Boontling and thought it would be cool to one day create a cowboy/folk band as one of those “influences.”

Then something magical happened. The last year any of us lived in Aracat, when we were all in our early twenties, we chose to actualize this band name and we recorded an album virtually in one night. It consists of our drunk friends playing folk songs we barely knew, one last time before we began to really break apart from eachother. The album that was self-released and never distributed was called “Songs Our Parents Might Like”. The Boont Dusties was just one piece of the puzzle. What happens when all the albums the perpetual elvis machine spoke of are eventually made? Will the planets unite and the heavens burst open? The wierdest thing of all is to think that their idea was some sort of crazy futuristic vision that “created” the past that would be our future! Whoa!!!

4. I said cool it with the hippie shit. Give me something to work with you here. You’ve mentioned your highschool friends and Jake and Josh – but who are these tribesmen you keep speaking of?

Basically my tribe – the Boont Dusties, The Dinosaurs, the Goners, what have you – are just a group of friends from highschool who just can’t seem to really seperate, having moved from the Bay Area, Ca to Humboldt County in one large mass migration, and now trickling up to Seattle over the last year. People have tacked onto the group in the college years in Arcata, we keep growing. It’s all very loosely defined. They are the makers of the all the music you’ll find on the site, and also a great source of my inspiration.

One day I’d like more contributions from them, and to have the site branch off into little parts for each of their individual endeavours to showcase themselves as individuals. The difficulty is getting them to even use email, as I believe that out of the twenty people we’re talking about here, I am the only one with a functional computer.

5. Okay, okay so what is this website really about? It seems like when you do post it’s actually about pretty random shit?

I’ve been contemplating the reasoning behind even attempting a website project like this – Is it really just for my friends to keep as a reference of all our artifacts even though most of them have shoddy internet access? A central location to display my found items? A place for me to cry about my most pathetic moments with girls or to freak out about aliens? All of the above?

I guess I just want to leave some sort of legacy behind, in the off chance it gets stumbled upon by some kid in the future. As humans, we’ve been doing this since the cave-paintings (or even before). Maybe I’m ruining the grandeur by being conscious of what I’m doing – but I think in the long run, I’m not. When I’m dust, and kids are finally getting to ride their hoverboards, and the technopagans are in control of the government – who knows whom might stumble upon my little archived nook on the internet. What will they see when they peruse this site? I’d like to think an inspired portrait of a group of stupid friends who came to this moutaintop union (which sometimes included our minds, and sometimes our genitals) . I’d like to think reading of my failed craigslist love endeavor might one day give someone the chills just like it does for me everytime I unearth some lost photograph or street shuffling love-note.

6. Yeah, speaking of which – What’s the deal with all the found artifacts as of late?

I haven’t figured it out 100% yet – but I guess I’d like to try to figure out the relationship between the things I find in thrift stores and my interests with understanding my group of friends. For me, in this whole fascination with anonymous artificats from previous times, there has always been one lower part of the endeavor that was just trying to find something more revealing and more odd than other people. It was a ego-driven attempt to “outdo” them. I remember reading in a recent issue of Found about how college kids collect tacky shit from thrift stores trying to be ironic, and I definitely understand the desire to scoff. But I think a lot of the time there is something greater about trying to find a genuine human connection to people from a historical past. Or the people right around you. You do not know how many times I’ve be caught by my friends trying to take a peek at their diary shoved under their bed.

7. So where’s all the history of your friends – you’ve been talking about it on and off again for like a year, yo?

So maybe I should stop talking about why I want to create this online museum, and should just buckle down and do it. NaNoWriMo is coming up and I’m thinking about just going balls out the whole month of November. My writing this NAQ is my attempt to get a bearing for what’s in store. So stay tuned, and if you have any ideas or contributions send them to boontdustie AT gmail.com

1. What is a Boont Dustie?

In order to understand the meaning of this word, we must start with its history. What better source of reliable information than the Anderson Valley Beer website:

“In the 1800’s, Anderson Valley was an isolated and quite provincial farming and logging community. Life was hard, and entertainment was a luxury. Sometime around 1880, a small group of Anderson Valley residents created a few slang words to use in their private conversations, both for their own amusement, and to confound anyone who might overhear them harpin’ (talking). They created new words as they went, trying to shark (stump) their companions. Over time the vocabulary grew, as did the number of people familiar with it. Eventually, every resident of the valley had at least some knowledge of Boontling (Boonville Language), as the lingo came to be called. For many, Boontling actually became their primary language, and they had difficulty reverting to English when circumstances required it. ”

So roughly translated, the word “Boont Dustie” is a Boontling word that means the Boonville Cemetary, or the people residing there.

2. So what the hell does that have to do with anything?

Let me start this way. I am part of a loose tribe of friends that found themselves in a situation that strangely mirrors this Anderson Valley niche culture. Just like the poor folks of Boonville – I too found myself stuck in a shitty little town called Brentwood, Ca – and as a matter of pure survival, became immersed in a circle of friends who had to create their own cultural identity.

We had a lot of options for how we could have turned out, and thankfully we didn’t all end up worshipping at the altar of Marilyn Manson. One of the things that I think makes us special is that we didn’t really use the default and turn into a bunch of “punks”. That is, we didn’t use words like “diy” or have a food not bombs – but what sprang out of our tribe were things that were genuinely our own. Just like the book we found in our high school library regarding the history of Boontling – we had created our own protected, and quite funny, community.

I don’t mean to be exclusive. However inside our jokes are – I still think that any group of people who feel they have their own secret language, who have a “difficulty reverting back to [the rest of the world] when circumstance require it”, and who value their friends more than anything – are, in essence, doing the exact same thing as the Boont Dusties. This option is open to everyone.

I’m interested in the idea, but I’m not really an authority on how other groups of kids fit this same model. I see similar trends and patterns in other folks in my generation – and I also see moments when my specific group of friends are the only people laughing in the movie theatre. Where is it universal to my generation and where is it specific to just our little circle of 20 or so? I’m in the process of figuring it out.

I think that what I’m really interested in is finding glory in one’s local identity and group of friends and knowing that one day we will all disappear. The people right here around us are the most important things in life – and I want to dwell on the details.

3. That sounds pretty hippy-dippy. Does the word mean anything a little more tangiable?

I’m glad you never asked. The Boont Dusties was also the name of band. Well, sortof. Back in high school Jake and Josh prophesized that their ridiculous musical outfit the Perpetual Elvis Machine(P.E.M.) would record under four different band names – each of which who would be imaginary “influences” on the P.E.M. Back in highschool Anonymous Josh and Captain Inconspicuous(Jake) were pretty intrigued with the idea of Boontling and thought it would be cool to one day create a cowboy/folk band as one of those “influences.”

Then something magical happened. The last year any of us lived in Aracta, when we were all in our early twenties, we chose to actualize this band name and we recorded an album virtually in one night. It consists of our drunk friends playing folk songs we barely knew, one last time before we began to really break apart from eachother. The album that was self-released and never distributed was called “Songs Our Parents Might Like”. The Boont Dusties was just one piece of the puzzle. What happens when all the albums the perpetual elvis machine spoke of are eventually made? Will the planets unite and the heavens burst open? The wierdest thing of all is to think that their idea was some sort of crazy futuristic vision that “created” the past that would be our future! Whoa!!!

4. I said cool it with the hippie shit. Give me something to work with you here. You’ve mentioned your highschool friends and Jake and Josh – but who are these tribesmen you keep speaking of?

Basically my tribe – the Boont Dusties, The Dinosaurs, the Goners, what have you – are just a group of friends from highschool who just can’t seem to really seperate, having moved from the Bay Area, Ca to Humboldt County in one large mass migration, and now trickling up to Seattle over the last year. People have tacked onto the group in the college years in Arcata, we keep growing. It’s all very loosely defined. They are the makers of the all the music you’ll find on the site, and also a great source of my inspiration.

One day I’d like more contributions from them, and to have the site branch off into little parts for each of their individual endeavours to showcase themselves as individuals. The difficulty is getting them to even use email, as I believe that out of the twenty people we’re talking about here, I am the only one with a functional computer.

5. Okay, okay so what is this website really about? It seems like when you do post it’s actually about pretty random shit?

I’ve been contemplating the reasoning behind even attempting a website project like this – Is it really just for my friends to keep as a reference of all our artifacts even though most of them have shoddy internet access? A central location to display my found items? A place for me to cry about my most pathetic moments with girls or to freak out about aliens? All of the above?

I guess I just want to leave some sort of legacy behind, in the off chance it gets stumbled upon by some kid in the future. As humans, we’ve been doing this since the cave-paintings (or even before). Maybe I’m ruining the grandeur by being conscious of what I’m doing – but I think in the long run, I’m not. When I’m dust, and kids are finally getting to ride their hoverboards, and the technopagans are in control of the government – who knows whom might stumble upon my little archived nook on the internet. What will they see when they peruse this site? I’d like to think an inspired portrait of a group of stupid friends who came to this moutaintop union (which sometimes included our minds, and sometimes our genitals) . I’d like to think reading of my failed craigslist love endeavor might one day give someone the chills just like it does for me everytime I unearth some lost photograph or street shuffling love-note.

6. Yeah, speaking of which – What’s the deal with all the found artifacts as of late?

I haven’t figured it out 100% yet – but I guess I’d like to try to figure out the relationship between the things I find in thrift stores and my interests with understanding my group of friends. For me, in this whole fascination with anonymous artificats from previous times, there has always been one lower part of the endeavor that was just trying to find something more revealing and more odd than other people. It was an ego-driven attempt to “outdo” them. I remember reading in a recent issue of Found about how college kids collect tacky shit from thrift stores trying to be ironic, and I definitely understand the desire to scoff. But I think a lot of the time there is something greater about trying to find a genuine human connection to people from a historical past. Or the people right around you. You do not know how many times I’ve be caught by my friends trying to take a peek at their diary shoved under their bed.

For those enjoying my craigslist saga, here is part deux – SHE WRITES BACK:

>
> I think its great that you are trying to set up your
> son and there was nothing wrong with your letter at
> all. In fact I found it quite sweet. However I have
> found someone I am interested in and I only date one
> man at a time. If it does not work out though would it
> be ok if I contacted you at that time to see if your
> son is still available? Would it be ok to send me a
> picture in the mean time.
> Thanks again,
> Beth

— And of course, my mom’s lovely rebuttal

Beth
I think that garrett has written you. He probably wasn’t your type but
I just had to give this a shot. This picture is when he was homecoming
king and he would kill me if he knew I sent it but I figured it was better
then one of those naked bath tube baby pictures . Garrett is looking for
some one that he can be best friends with. He moved to seattle not to long
ago and he’s got lots of friends that followed him up there but he just
wants to fine that special girl. I really think your amazing writing me
back. Thanks so much for the e-mail. I hope that you get a chance to meet
him.
Lou

Here’s the photo she attached, from my days without facial hair. The horror!

To whom it may concern,

My apologies. I haven’t been posting lately because all of my internet time has been focused on honing my skills for work, and/or setting up my new hardware/operating system for a dual boot linux box. I’m just absolutely loving breaking into these computers and seeing how they work, but … I’m beginning to believe that pure unrefined geekiness is a psychological disorder. If that’s too dramatic for you, then go ahead – I formaly dare you to start your own blog and tell me it’s not the “gateway drug” into a dark spiral of techie-addiction.

Sadly, my love life of recompiling kernels is not the most pathetic thing going on over in this corner. Per JK’s requestI went ahead and a) wrote a letter of interest to this personal ad on craiglist, and b) had it followed up by … A LETTER FROM MY MOM.

You can read it in its entirety below:

Dear Anon 101485497
I see where you are looking for someone, that loves his job, and loves to talk, and has friends and likes people. My son is a interesting guy with lots of interest. He is a musician, computer programmer, young, sweet, compassionate, loves to talk about all kinds of interesting things, all topics. He likes to walk [Garrett's note - I DO NOT like to walk] and see the world .he has always seen it different then most people. He loves to write poetry and when he falls in love it hilarious. I just love to watch him he is what we have always called the humble bumble.

I would like to make sure that you don’t over look him in your search. He rarely would do something like this so I think it’s funny. I’m not sure what he’ll think when I tell him I wrote you a recommendation….hahahhaha

Sincerely Lou

P.S. I have always wanted someone that would fit into our family. I hope that you’ll not be put off by this letter and that you have a sense of humor.”

My mom is so fucking hilarious. Hats off to her, please.