A second of your life...ruined for life.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

"When you dream about bleeding...


it means you're embarassed," or so goes the song by Shockabilly. But what does it mean if you dream about Ron Metz, erstwhile drummer for the Human Switchboard, and Louis C.K., writer/director of "Pootie Tang," one of the finest surrealist works of the Noughties?



I remember I was once in the office of the New Music Distribution Service on lower Broadway, which took ages to get up to, because even though it was only on the third or fourth floor, the only way to gain access to it was via the slowest-moving elevator it's ever been my displeasure to use. I was sitting there idly watching the parking lot across the street, with its machines that lifted cars up and put them up on platforms like a giant warehouse forklift, and listening to this jazz drummer holding forth about his various opinions, including his extremely negative assessment of Ron Metz's skills. As it happens, this fellow suffered an untimely death*, so I'm not going to identify him here (e-mail me if you MUST know)...I am not ordinarily happy about people's passing, but any unhappiness that I might have felt was definitely tempered by this guy's fulminating. I dug Ron's playing, plus I always found him to be a decent guy.

Hey, here's a joke: Two drummers, Pete and Repete, are sitting on a log. Pete falls off; who's left? Repete! Two drummers, Pete and Repete, are sitting on a log. Pete falls off; who's left? Repete!

Also, I had a dream about clipping my toenails, and out from under one my nails, I pulled out a razorblade. I would not be offended if you said "Ick."

*In a way, all deaths are untimely, because if it's a decent person, they're gone too soon, and if it's a bastard, you think "What took so long?"

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1 Comments:

Blogger Waldo Drogulus said...

I would hang around watching Human Switchboard practice in the late 70's.
Their practice room was very small, I often stood near the drum kit. I brought safety goggles to protect my eyes from the splinters and chunks of wood flying from Ron's sticks.

November 17, 2010 at 12:20 PM

 

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