Monday, September 18, 2006

Death Tripping Picnic Motorcycle Symbols (Heyzoo I'm A Duck)

It's Monday and loyal readers of Soulfish Stew know what that means: it's time for me to hit the ejecter seat button and fire
off lots of random thoughts and related gibberish. So enjoy the show and if you're not careful you just might learn something.

So how many people out there have picnics at the gravesite of a loved one? I never have, but it looks like fun. There was a family yesterday doing just that. They had the picnic blanket and a big basket of food. It looked to be a mother and her two little girls. As I passed by in my car I wondered whose grave they were visiting. Could it have been a grandparent? A brother or sister? Or perhaps their father? Maybe the woman wasn't their mother because their mother was buried there. Maybe they weren't visiting anybody and they just liked to have picnics in cemeteries. There are usually no crowds.

I also passed a funeral home on my way to where I was going. You get the rock stat treatment here as your name goes up on a big marquee. The parking lot was filled with cars. I wonder if the parking lot will be filled with cars when I go. Will the people inside be sad or happy? Perhaps it will be a combination of both. Hopefully it will be many decades before my name goes up
on the big sign. When I do go I hope my relatives play "Pet Sematary" by the Ramones. Just in case they get any weird ideas.

When I think about the Ramones I think about leather jackets. Leather jackets leads me to motorcycles. This is something that had probably just escaped my attention, but when did motorcyclists start waving to other motorcyclists. I was behind a couple of dudes riding Harleys yesterday and without fail they stuck their left hands out whenever another cyclist came in the other direction. Emily Post would be proud.

Toby, long time missing in action subversive agent, has good manners. He picked up the tip for our cold beer and pizza supper on Saturday night. It was really cool to get to see "Black Belt" Holmes again. It had been like....what....over 10 years since I last spoke with the dude. We fell into conversation as if the time had not even passed. You'd think that most of our talk was about the past, and while we did do some reminiscing most of our discussion centered on the now. Which is how it should be.

That said: one of the funniest stories I had forgotten was about jamming with Leyhew. Before Toby and I officially convened our legendary punk band Michael Landon's Ghost we got together a few times to play some tunes with old school mate T-Dog. I could barely play any real songs at this stage so I figured I could just make a little noise and learn some tunes from T-Dog. He started playing some classic rock junk using some funky chordings. I was used to power chords then and I was left clueless by what he was playing. I had never seen real chords played beyond the first couple of frets. T-Dog did make me feel good though - he just wasn't very good. He kept playing this same riff over and over and then he'd stop and ask us, "Can you help me out with that?" We helped him by playing a bunch of sludgy riffs at extra slow pace since we were then in our Melvins phase.

Squidbillies, anyone?

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

We will be screaming with glee at your funeral--but I still ain't playing Pet Sematary MO

Anonymous said...

Glad you found Squidbillies, dude! Hope you liked 'em!

Black Belt