One man’s continuing effort to catalogue every famous person he’s ever encountered.
CE1K: So, back when I was cooler…I mean, uh, less mature and responsible…I used to enjoy more of the live rock ‘n roll, and one of my favorite venues was The Living Room in late ‘80s Rhode Island, possibly because the colors were always extra vivid during my visits, and the music was oh, so tasty. For instance, I saw Nina Hagen at the Viper Room in West Hollywood once, but she didn’t ripple nearly as lysergically as when I saw her at The Living Room…PLUS, when I encountered her in Little Rhodey, she was promoting her Punk Wedding CD, a celebration of her recent nuptials to mohawked 17-year-old tour-mate Iroquois, with whom she disappeared into her tour bus after the show and began wailing operatically (and possibly orgasmically) enough for everyone back in the club to hear…all very good indeed, as Mr. Dury would say.
CE3K: Somewhere around the same era, in the self-same nightclub, I’d just attended a Butthole Surfers show when a droog of mine (with her own particular knack for Greatness Brushing) strolls up to the door of the band room with a funny cigarette and deadpans, “Anybody got a light?” Moments later, we’re hanging out with the band…or, rather, near the band, since Gibby and most of the others were primarily focused on fucking with some reporter. Only then-Butthole Teresa Turner paid any real attention to us…specifically me, since I’d been chain smoking for hours, thus turning my fingers so yellow the future Madonna Pap Smear Pusher kept asking me if I had jaundice.
CE2K: A few years and time zones away from The Living Room, I’m sharing a CRX and a North Hollywood apartment with my fellow Exiled Screengrabber Scott Von Doviak, who at the time was a production assistant on the straight-to-video Debbie Harry phone sex thriller Intimate Stranger. Driving to pick him up from set one night, I find myself in some downtown industrial wasteland of warehouses and railyards. After parking in a desolate, deserted parking lot, I walk towards a dark, silent building, uncertain whether I’m in the right spot or hopelessly lost…when Blondie herself suddenly materializes from the shadows and says, “Hello,” like a ghostly vision of rock ‘n roll greatness, leading me into the light.
very cool Andrew,that boys gonna vom
Wow, nice find on the Intimate Stranger clip! I remember that night well. It was more exciting in person.