Tuesday, August 31, 2004
Living Legend
Hey,
It's cooled off in Texas at least enough that I can wear jeans during the day providing that I don't attempt anything strenuous - like walking to the store or shaking hands. It feels like we've been partying for days with a magical moment over the weekend - preceeded like they so often are with me saying - no we're not having a party tonight - I'm just going to have a couple beers - but you're welcome to come over... So the house is packed and Ken finds the fireworks. Now my favorite part about this is that it's the boss's idea to light off the fireworks inside - and the manager Bryce is trying to be the voice of reason - to little avail. So there he is outside in the middle of the street surrounded by dozens of people with beers in their hands lighting off a roman candle horizontally. The first few balls just kind of flop out so he turns into the crowd much the way you would spill your drink in your lap while looking at your watch, and out rockets a blast of colored flame into the crowd followed by another as he turns back into the street and begins milking the roman candle for more - much the way you would if you were alone in a hotel room and someone else was picking up the tab.
It's Cadillac Tuesday and I'm headed out to the country to work on my buddy's old Caddy and listen to rockabilly. But there it is again - it just keeps popping into my mind - and it all started yesterday with my first phone call of the morning. Indian Larry died. As the calls kept coming in throughout the day - I got more and more pieces of the story. He was performing one of his legendary stunts at a bike show and the last sound he heard was 8,000 people cheering him on before it all went black. I think that's the way he would have wanted it. But I guess it always shakes you when you find out one of your friends isn't going to be there when you come home. Right before I left town - Larry and I filmed a TV show together for the Great Biker Buildoff - he was shooting the finale when it all happened. Last year at the Coney Biker-Slut party I entered Trixie and she won - Best Bike - Ugliest. I've got the plaque hanging up at home and a picture of Larry handing it to me. I work some of the tattoo conventions with my Lucky Devil show as did Larry - so I would get to run into him on the road too. I'm working one this weekend in Wilkes Barre, PA - but Larry's not going to be there. Well here's to you, Larry if it wasn't dangerous - it wouldn't be fun and what kind of world would that be?
It's cooled off in Texas at least enough that I can wear jeans during the day providing that I don't attempt anything strenuous - like walking to the store or shaking hands. It feels like we've been partying for days with a magical moment over the weekend - preceeded like they so often are with me saying - no we're not having a party tonight - I'm just going to have a couple beers - but you're welcome to come over... So the house is packed and Ken finds the fireworks. Now my favorite part about this is that it's the boss's idea to light off the fireworks inside - and the manager Bryce is trying to be the voice of reason - to little avail. So there he is outside in the middle of the street surrounded by dozens of people with beers in their hands lighting off a roman candle horizontally. The first few balls just kind of flop out so he turns into the crowd much the way you would spill your drink in your lap while looking at your watch, and out rockets a blast of colored flame into the crowd followed by another as he turns back into the street and begins milking the roman candle for more - much the way you would if you were alone in a hotel room and someone else was picking up the tab.
It's Cadillac Tuesday and I'm headed out to the country to work on my buddy's old Caddy and listen to rockabilly. But there it is again - it just keeps popping into my mind - and it all started yesterday with my first phone call of the morning. Indian Larry died. As the calls kept coming in throughout the day - I got more and more pieces of the story. He was performing one of his legendary stunts at a bike show and the last sound he heard was 8,000 people cheering him on before it all went black. I think that's the way he would have wanted it. But I guess it always shakes you when you find out one of your friends isn't going to be there when you come home. Right before I left town - Larry and I filmed a TV show together for the Great Biker Buildoff - he was shooting the finale when it all happened. Last year at the Coney Biker-Slut party I entered Trixie and she won - Best Bike - Ugliest. I've got the plaque hanging up at home and a picture of Larry handing it to me. I work some of the tattoo conventions with my Lucky Devil show as did Larry - so I would get to run into him on the road too. I'm working one this weekend in Wilkes Barre, PA - but Larry's not going to be there. Well here's to you, Larry if it wasn't dangerous - it wouldn't be fun and what kind of world would that be?
