You know you're getting old when googling the term 'cinderella story' for a pic of Bill Murray in Caddyshack returns back pages of Hillary Duff living every American Daddy's girls dream.
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DA RUZ
My bro The Ruz is a firemen in the Air Force. This weekend his fireman team deploys to Irag for their required 120 days tour of duty. Living out in that 120 degree heat in those deluxe tents, walking around in full camo and battle gear, with an M-16 in his hand. Flying out Sunday in one of those big C-5 Galaxy cargo planes that can fly like 5 tanks inside it. The plan is he's just to do what he's been doing in Texas, but in Iraq - hanging at the Firehouse on the base waiting for fire or plane crashes.
But their flying into Baghdad airport (the one we took over) and then convoying over to their base, sitting in those transports with an M-16 in his hands. Crazy. I really hope it goes ok and he just hangs out there and comes home safe and well. I think I've had more bro-to-bro talks over more beers with him than anyone, besides my best pal from high school Dr. Dan.
Sitting in my little Trenton upper flat drinking Guiness for years, him chillin on the couch, me lounging in my purple Lazyboy, just going_OFF on whatever was worthy of going off on in our lives. Girls, jobs, music, drumming, rock, jobs, politics, getting into/thru/and out of ourselves alot of just maturing and growing up shit that people do. You know - the pal you have who you can sit in a room for 6 hours with and just vent or rant or laugh with over beers, jamming tunes, reflecting on what you think you're starting to think about your life (and life in general) as it evolves in your mind and in front of you.
The friend who you actually admit to what you're fucking up in your life. It's not just escapist entertainment hanging out, it's good talkin'. The friend who, after hours of watching concert vids, or jammin tunes, laughing your ass off at a movie and beers, at 2am you're both near passing out reflecting on your own sh*t and saying with all dead honesty "Dude, f*ck man..., I gotta [insert recent epiphany here] and get my shit together, this is bullshit." THAT kind of bro. The kind who calls you out when you're runnin' some b.s., whether on others or just yourself. I guess that's what a best friend is.
For whatever that's worth.
I got great friends.
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FUNK BOMB
Tonight I recalled the sheer tectonic funk intensity of the George Clinton show I saw about 4 years ago...I couldn't take it after 3 hours. It was too much funk. I'm too white to go the distance. I made an admirable effort, but I remember turning to my buddy Judd and saying there was no way I could carry on. Its was too much funk, I had been carpet-bombed repeatedly with Music Missiles. Da Funk was exploding my brain. It was a wall I hit, which I when I try to think of a comparison, what comes to me is being kept in a small windowless padded room in an asylum and the drumbeat from the Zeppelin song "When The Levee Breaks" is played constantly for days. At first you can groove to it. Then it gets really hypnotic. Then you play silly games like making yourself pretend its the sound of a factory next door, or a big civil War train chugging along slow. Then you get tired of all that and wish it would stop, just for a bit to catch your psychological breathe per se, but it won't. Then after awhile you think that deep pocket of groove is going to make your head explode. It's so heavy, the military gun council gave a rock beat a .calibur designation. It's like that.
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EH, ACTUALLY NORMIE...
I read in a CNN piece today about the celebrity charity premieres of the latest and last Star Wars movie 'Revenge of the Sith.' One of the celebrities attending was John Ratzenberger, "Cliff" the postman from TV's 'Cheers'. Yes he was in Star Wars. Seriously, no Below sarcasm here. Do you know where? Guess.
Give up?
He was in Empire. On Hoth. A rebel chief. When Leia gave the Rebel Hoth troops their evacuation and rendevouz information pep talk, near the wing of the parked X-Wing. Right after she says "Good Luck", a sargent kinda guy immediatley says" Ok, everyone to your ships, LET'S GO!"
That's Cliffy. Listen to how he says it, specially the "Let's GO!" His "GO!" has the rounded O of that Boston accent he had on Cheers. And you can hear its his voice.
He had alot of bit parts in big movies back then. He was one of the radar tech/watchers in the first Superman movie. When Superman was chasing the two missiles Lex aimed at both coasts, there's cliffie with the headset mic with the military chief over Cliff's shoulder watching missiles as graphics on his screen.
I'm not lying, but I'm too tired to google for the exact shots.
Ok, lemme try, we'll see if first tries work.
Even better, proof of him in both movies here.
Remember this next time for 6 Degrees of Kevin Bacon.
Oliver Stone to Yoda.
Oliver directed Woody Harrelson in Larry Flynt, Woody was with Cliff on Cheers, Cliff was in Empire Strikes Back.
We're not Generation X, we're Generation C(able).
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