The Magic Door
Every social setting has one. Hell, I might be one on someone else's list. Somebody you knew, usually from High School days, the mere utterance of whose name could(in certain circles at any rate)inspire 5 minutes of laughter and an hour of stories.
I went to High School from 1968 to 1972. Was a fledgling guitarist then, as were several of my classmates, including the 5-minutes-of-laughter-an-hour-of-stories guy, listening to Clapton and Hendrix and the other heroes of the day. And of course we had our little High School assemblages, our bands. Our friend was a part of all that.
There was also a very popular band at that time, based out of Chicago, called The Flock. They played down here on occasion, usually with The Grass Roots or another band from that period.. We dreamed, in our little basement band practices, of playing with a band like The Flock. Our friend took it a step further. He played in The Flock.
That's right. He actually played with The Flock. At any rate, that's what he told us, in all seriousness. Three things puzzle me here: first, he was a mediocre guitarist to begin with; second, he never seemed to appear on any of their recordings; and third, we saw him every day!! When did he have time to play, and tour with them??
I think it's like the clerk in One Hour Photo who tells the lie so long("yeah, that's my little nephew Jake")that he starts to believe it himself. He's worn the sheep's clothes so long he doesn't remember not wearing them. But he did swear up and down that he played in The Flock. I remember being somewhere and talking to someone who was kind of putting them down. He was within earshot, and starting to get irritated and I had to explain to them, "listen, be careful with the remarks. He thinks he's in The Flock".
Yes, a very weird thing to have to explain to someone. But they seemed to understand the pathology at hand, and moved on. My friend called me one night to tell me that Jerry Goodman(of The Flock)was in town and would I like to meet him. Sure, I said, knowing damn well this was another load of malarkey. But not having any plans for the evening, figured on some kind of entertainment.
We were supposed to meet him at what was then The Harness House- a nightclub featuring some pretty good road bands(Jazz, R & B, etc), and sat around for a good 3 hours waiting. All this time my friend regales me with stories about what cool people The Flock are and how they have intellectual discussions about the color of laughter and other abstruse concepts. And about what REAL people they are too, about how Jerry Goodman would think nothing of dropping his clothes and dancing naked on one of the tables in front of all these phonies.
Finally I'd had enough. "Listen, man", I said. "Nobody believes all this shit about you playing in the Flock and knowing all these characters. Hell, you don't even believe it yourself. So what's the point?"
"Well", he shrugs, "who listens anyway?"
Huh. Okay...
"But I have these friends in Bloomington who are really cool, and.." He's off and running on another tangent. If I were a cartoon character, I'd be saying "Oy vey!" and fainting, feet first.
That was over 30 years ago, and I haven't seen him since. Hope he's well. Hope his delusions(whatever they'd be in 2007)don't get him into trouble. Five minutes of laughter, and at least an hour of stories, but certainly no ill will.
How do people get all fucked up like that? Well, reality often stinks like shit, so it's understandable to want to at least deodorize yours if not replace it entirely with another, less odoriferous model. Every age is tough, and High School certainly has its rough spots with all of us trying to somehow "fit in". I didn't do much better than he in that regard, so I can understand.
I guess the worse your reality the greater your need for an alternate one. So he just created another, kinder world where he played in The Flock(and girls were probably nicer to him). Which answers one of my logistical questions about how he managed to make their rehearsals and gigs while living here and going to High School.
Easy. He just went through the Magic Door...
I went to High School from 1968 to 1972. Was a fledgling guitarist then, as were several of my classmates, including the 5-minutes-of-laughter-an-hour-of-stories guy, listening to Clapton and Hendrix and the other heroes of the day. And of course we had our little High School assemblages, our bands. Our friend was a part of all that.
There was also a very popular band at that time, based out of Chicago, called The Flock. They played down here on occasion, usually with The Grass Roots or another band from that period.. We dreamed, in our little basement band practices, of playing with a band like The Flock. Our friend took it a step further. He played in The Flock.
That's right. He actually played with The Flock. At any rate, that's what he told us, in all seriousness. Three things puzzle me here: first, he was a mediocre guitarist to begin with; second, he never seemed to appear on any of their recordings; and third, we saw him every day!! When did he have time to play, and tour with them??
I think it's like the clerk in One Hour Photo who tells the lie so long("yeah, that's my little nephew Jake")that he starts to believe it himself. He's worn the sheep's clothes so long he doesn't remember not wearing them. But he did swear up and down that he played in The Flock. I remember being somewhere and talking to someone who was kind of putting them down. He was within earshot, and starting to get irritated and I had to explain to them, "listen, be careful with the remarks. He thinks he's in The Flock".
Yes, a very weird thing to have to explain to someone. But they seemed to understand the pathology at hand, and moved on. My friend called me one night to tell me that Jerry Goodman(of The Flock)was in town and would I like to meet him. Sure, I said, knowing damn well this was another load of malarkey. But not having any plans for the evening, figured on some kind of entertainment.
We were supposed to meet him at what was then The Harness House- a nightclub featuring some pretty good road bands(Jazz, R & B, etc), and sat around for a good 3 hours waiting. All this time my friend regales me with stories about what cool people The Flock are and how they have intellectual discussions about the color of laughter and other abstruse concepts. And about what REAL people they are too, about how Jerry Goodman would think nothing of dropping his clothes and dancing naked on one of the tables in front of all these phonies.
Finally I'd had enough. "Listen, man", I said. "Nobody believes all this shit about you playing in the Flock and knowing all these characters. Hell, you don't even believe it yourself. So what's the point?"
"Well", he shrugs, "who listens anyway?"
Huh. Okay...
"But I have these friends in Bloomington who are really cool, and.." He's off and running on another tangent. If I were a cartoon character, I'd be saying "Oy vey!" and fainting, feet first.
That was over 30 years ago, and I haven't seen him since. Hope he's well. Hope his delusions(whatever they'd be in 2007)don't get him into trouble. Five minutes of laughter, and at least an hour of stories, but certainly no ill will.
How do people get all fucked up like that? Well, reality often stinks like shit, so it's understandable to want to at least deodorize yours if not replace it entirely with another, less odoriferous model. Every age is tough, and High School certainly has its rough spots with all of us trying to somehow "fit in". I didn't do much better than he in that regard, so I can understand.
I guess the worse your reality the greater your need for an alternate one. So he just created another, kinder world where he played in The Flock(and girls were probably nicer to him). Which answers one of my logistical questions about how he managed to make their rehearsals and gigs while living here and going to High School.
Easy. He just went through the Magic Door...
posted by Roger U Roundly at 5:10 PM
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