Well, my BFF Janet said that I have to come up with and post 8 things that people dont know about me. Well, my life is pretty much an open book, (except for some stuff that Im not going to talk about here on Facebook anyway!), but Ill give it a try. 1. I once met Stevie Nicks, we had a wonderful deep conversation, and weve been close friends ever since. Well, not exactly a conversation, in the traditional sense; I yelled Youre Beautiful! at her from the crowd at a concert, and she heard me, smiled and waved at me. And weve been close ever since. Well, not exactly close in the traditional sense; but I did yell at Stevie Nicks, and she heard me yell at her. So its almost the same thing. 2. For many years I have been a big fan of the rock band King Crimson, and once met band leader and guitarist extraordinaire Robert Fripp, and we had a wonderful deep conversation, and weve been close friends ever sense. Well, not exactly a conversation in the traditional sense; I saw him play in a club, and after the show I watched him walking through the club, and I approached my hero with trembling trepidation. He looked at me, and before I could open my mouth to say a word, he held up his hand in the traditional STOP! gesture, said No., turned his back on me and walked away, and weve been close ever sense. Well, not exactly close in the traditional sense, but I did get totally dissed and blown off by a single hand gesture and a single word by Robert Fripp. So its almost the same thing. 3. I once met Chuck Berry, and shook his hand, after a show at the old Music City nightclub in Raleigh, NC. That was one of the greatest nightclubs ever, and I was sad when it went out of business (the club owner was arrested for being AWOL from the U.S. Navy years earlier, and they finally caught up with him). I saw Greg Allman, Dickey Betts, Head East, and lots of great acts there, and you could stand right up close to the stage by the artists, throw your beer cans on the floor, and boogie all night. 4. I am a frustrated artist. I have always wanted to draw and paint, but just dont have the talent. I tried and tried, took classes, purchased the materials, carried around sketch pads, put paint to canvas, took sojourns to places just to draw the landscapes, but just never got past 3rd Grade Art Class. I feel frustrated envy when I see people quickly doodle a drawing that I couldnt create if you put an ax on my neck. I watch people create a painting, see everything that they do, and just cant do it. I finally gave up after years of trying. Its in my heart and soul, but not in my hands. 5. The first time I ever got in trouble at school was in the 1st Grade. While the teacher was up at the blackboard talking about whatever, I decided to get some learnin on my own. So I slipped out of my seat, stealthy as a ninja, and crawled across the floor toward a girl that I had had my eye on for some time. She was wearing a pretty dress, and I crawled up to her unnoticed, slipped under her desk, lifted up her dress, and looked underneath it. Her scream got the teachers attention. I got in trouble for looking up my classmates dress, and received my first Detention. I didnt know what that meant, and it was a pretty big word, so I was sure that my Mommy didnt know what it meant either. When I got home from school late, my Mom wanted to know why, so I smugly responded that I got Detention. I was quite surprised to learn that Mom knew what that word meant, and I got in even more trouble at home. But I am not sure that Ive learned my lesson to this day. I am still curious about whats under a pretty girls dress. 6. Leaving a public library in San Antonio, Texas, I encountered an older Mexican man who was selling hot peppers out of a can filled with an oily-looking liquid. He didnt speak much English, and I spoke little Spanish, but when I balked at purchasing some of his peppers, he encouraged me to at least try one. I expressed skepticism at eating such a dubious-appearing treat, so he plucked one of the golf-ball sized peppers from the can and munched down with delight. So challenged, I also plucked one from from the oily liquid and bit into it with gusto. Swallowing it, I smiled and thanked him, told him it was delicious, and Kim and I continued to our pickup truck. Once safely inside the truck, I began gasping as the molten lava seared my throat, threatening to melt me from the inside into a puddle of tears, sweat, and drool. We immediately went to the first fast-food joint that I saw so I could quickly get a milkshake or something to quench the all-consuming napalm fire that was broiling me from the inside out. But at least I showed that old Mexican guy how tough I was. Yep, I sure showed him! Hes probably still laughing about it to this day. 7. The first speaking part that I ever had in a play was in Kindergarten. We were all animals, and I was a Rooster. My line was supposed to be Cock-A-Doodle-Doo, but I knew what a real rooster sounded like since my grandparents had a real farm with real chickens, and my teacher was puzzled and concerned that when it came time to say my line I kept making a weird Kareee-Kaareee-Karoooo! sound instead. My Mom was delighted though, and explained to the teacher, who had apparently never heard a real rooster in real life, what the sound was. 8. Its not a secret that I played the trombone from elementary school through college, and think that its a totally cool badass instrument, unique in the fact that there are no keys, valves, strings, or anything to create and alter the tone and volume except you, the player. You blow the air from your body, and except for elongating and shortening the instrument via the slide, all of the warm, round, full glorious sound of the trombone is created solely through the players body, lips, and tongue. Its a very personal instrument, all music created only by the trombonists body alone. But few know that once just before a school Christmas concert, I got into a fistfight with another student, and took my seat, trombone in hand, with a split lip from a hard fist. I played the entire concert with the split bloody lip, blowing blood out of my trombone through the spit valve at the end of the slide onto the floor. Although it has faded with time, to this day, I still carry a small hard spot of scar tissue inside my upper lip from that Holiday Season. Happy Holidays! Well, thats 8 things! Have a great evening, Everybody!
Posted on: Sun, 17 Nov 2013 22:39:57 +0000
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