He's in town (ft. lauderdale) for a spoken word show tonight and I was joking with a friend that maybe I'd run into him. My gym is a really small, hole in the wall place maybe 2 miles from the venue. Low and behold, he walked in, limping, around 4:00 p.m. He wasn't very talkative although when I reminded him that I sold him a record on ebay a few years ago, he remembered it and kind of lightened up a bit. So weird to see him in my tiny neighborhood gym. That was my brush with fame this weekend, what was yours?
I have to say this is much cooler than sharing an elevator with Lorne Greene ("I'm a huge fan of Bonanza") or standing behind The GoGos in line for Space Mountain at Disneyland (my only 2 brushes with fame)
I met Colm Meany (Chief O'Brien in Star Trek TNG and DS9) in a Banana Republic in New Orleans, guy was really awesome, very friendly. Also met Chevy Chase who was a total asshole.
I was one of the security crew, when Rollins Band performed in Singapore a few years back. He is a very quiet person in life.I am totally impressed with their sound check than the actual show itself. Low Self opinion still picks me up when ever I am piss at work
Yeah, I love that song too as well as "Shine" from Weight - both of whch I listen to regularly at the gym. I guess I should also mention that Rollins inspired me to get back into weight lifting many years ago so it was cool for that reason as well to see him in my gym. When I sold him a Tex & the Horseheads 45 a few years ago on ebay, we corresponded a bit and I had the chutzpah to ask him how much he benched. It was a decent figure but his deadlift and squat numbers where serious - like 650 each.
A seminal piece of writing in my development. IRON By Henry Rollins I believe that the definition of definition is reinvention. To not be like your parents. To not be like your friends. To be yourself. Completely. When I was young I had no sense of myself. All I was, was a product of all the fear and humiliation I suffered. Fear of my parents. The humiliation of teachers calling me "garbage can" and telling me I'd be mowing lawns for a living. And the very real terror of my fellow students. I was threatened and beaten up for the color of my skin and my size. I was skinny and clumsy, and when others would tease me I didn't run home crying, wondering why. I knew all too well. I was there to be antagonized. In sports I was laughed at. A spaz. I was pretty good at boxing but only because the rage that filled my every waking moment made me wild and unpredictable. I fought with some strange fury. The other boys thought I was crazy. I hated myself all the time. As stupid at it seems now, I wanted to talk like them, dress like them, carry myself with the ease of knowing that I wasn't going to get pounded in the hallway between classes. Years passed and I learned to keep it all inside. I only talked to a few boys in my grade. Other losers. Some of them are to this day the greatest people I have ever known. Hang out with a guy who has had his head flushed down a toilet a few times, treat him with respect, and you'll find a faithful friend forever. But even with friends, school sucked. Teachers gave me hard time. I didn't think much of them either. Then came Mr. Pepperman, my advisor. He was a powerfully built Vietnam veteran, and he was scary. No one ever talked out of turn in his class.Once one kid did and Mr. P. lifted him off the ground and pinned him to the blackboard. Mr. P. could see that I was in bad shape, and one Friday in October he asked me if I had ever worked out with weights. I told him no. He told me that I was going to take some of the money that I had saved and buy a hundred-pound set of weights at Sears. As I left his office, I started to think of things I would say to him on Monday when he asked about the weights that I was not going to buy. Still, it made me feel special. My father never really got that close to caring. On Saturday I bought the weights, but I couldn't even drag them to my mom's car. An attendant laughed at me as he put them on a dolly. Monday came and I was called into Mr. P.'s office after school. He said that he was going to show me how to work out. He was going to put me on a program and start hitting me in the solar plexus in the hallway when I wasn't looking. When I could take the punch we would know that we were getting somewhere. At no time was I to look at myself in the mirror or tell anyone at school what I was doing. In the gym he showed me ten basic exercises. I paid more attention than I ever did in any of my classes. I didn't want to blow it. I went home that night and started right in. Weeks passed, and every once in a while Mr. P. would give me a shot and drop me in the hallway, sending my books flying. The other students didn't know what to think. More weeks passed, and I was steadily adding new weights to the bar. I could sense the power inside my body growing. I could feel it. Right before Christmas break I was walking to class, and from out of nowhere Mr. Pepperman appeared and gave me a shot in the chest. I laughed and kept going. He said I could look at myself now. I got home and ran to the bathroom and pulled off my shirt. I saw a body, not just the shell that housed my stomach and my heart. My biceps bulged. My chest had definition. I felt strong. It was the first time I can remember having a sense of myself. I had done something and no one could ever take it away. You couldn't say shit to me. It took me years to fully appreciate the value of the lessons I have learned from the Iron. I used to think that it was my adversary, that I was trying to lift that which does not want to be lifted. I was wrong. When the Iron doesn't want to come off the mat, it's the kindest thing it can do for you. If it flew up and went through the ceiling, it wouldn't teach you anything. That's the way the Iron talks to you. It tells you that the material you work with is that which you will come to resemble. That which you work against will always work against you. It wasn't until my late twenties that I learned that by working out I had given myself a great gift. I learned that nothing good comes without work and a certain amount of pain. When I finish a set that leaves me shaking, I know more about myself. When something gets bad, I know it can't be as bad as that workout. I used to fight the pain, but recently this became clear to me: pain is not my enemy; it is my call to greatness. But when dealing with the Iron, one must be careful to interpret the pain correctly. Most injuries involving the Iron come from ego. I once spent a few weeks lifting weight that my body wasn't ready for and spent a few months not picking up anything heavier than a fork. Try to lift what you're not prepared to and the Iron will teach you a little lesson in restraint and self-control. I have never met a truly strong person who didn't have self-respect. I think a lot of inwardly and outwardly directed contempt passes itself off as self-respect: the idea of raising yourself by stepping on someone's shoulders instead of doing it yourself. When I see guys working out for cosmetic reasons, I see vanity exposing them in the worst way, as cartoon characters, billboards for imbalance and insecurity. Strength reveals itself through character. It is the difference between bouncers who get off strong-arming people and Mr.Pepperman. Muscle mass does not always equal strength. Strength is kindness and sensitivity. Strength is understanding that your power is both physical and emotional. That it comes from the body and the mind. And the heart. Yukio Mishima said that he could not entertain the idea of romance if he was not strong. Romance is such a strong and overwhelming passion, a weakened body cannot sustain it for long. I have some of my most romantic thoughts when I am with the Iron. Once I was in love with a woman. I thought about her the most when the pain from a workout was racing through my body. Everything in me wanted her. So much so that sex was only a fraction of my total desire. It was the single most intense love I have ever felt, but she lived far away and I didn't see her very often. Working out was a healthy way of dealing with the loneliness. To this day, when I work out I usually listen to ballads. I prefer to work out alone. It enables me to concentrate on the lessons that the Iron has for me. Learning about what you're made of is always time well spent, and I have found no better teacher. The Iron had taught me how to live. Life is capable of driving you out of your mind. The way it all comes down these days, it's some kind of miracle if you're not insane. People have become separated from their bodies. They are no longer whole. I see them move from their offices to their cars and on to their suburban homes. They stress out constantly, they lose sleep, they eat badly. And they behave badly. Their egos run wild; they become motivated by that which will eventually give them a massive stroke. They need the Iron Mind. Through the years, I have combined meditation, action, and the Iron into a single strength. I believe that when the body is strong, the mind thinks strong thoughts. Time spent away from the Iron makes my mind degenerate. I wallow in a thick depression. My body shuts down my mind. The Iron is the best antidepressant I have ever found. There is no better way to fight weakness than with strength. Once the mind and body have been awakened to their true potential, it's impossible to turn back. The Iron never lies to you. You can walk outside and listen to all kinds of talk, get told that you're a god or a total bastard. The Iron will always kick you the real deal. The Iron is the great reference point, the all-knowing perspective giver. Always there like a beacon in the pitch black. I have found the Iron to be my greatest friend. It never freaks out on me, never runs. Friends may come and go. But two hundred pounds is always two hundred pounds.
OK, so my funny story relates to this thread in both spoken word and punk rock. i was working at at record shop here in Winnipeg. Jello Biafra was in town for a spoken word thing. He was in the shop buying tons of goofy collector records. I think his bill was just over $300 when we rung it up. the only thing I remember him buying was an orange vinyl Sun Dial 12". Anyway.. I'm ringing him up and he is asks if there is a Sally Ann's that is open 'cuz he has to buy a trench coat. I told him no, it's sunday and they are all closed. "ohh noo.. i have to do a bit on the Trench coat mafia".. I told him that I had an old one I didn't use and he could borrow it. So, he pulls me out of work and we go to my appt to grab him this coat. He does his Spoken word thing.. goes on and on about how his Bandmates are suing him, does his trench coat bit.. At the end of the night he puts out his Boot and asks the audience to donate money to cover his lawyer bills. I thought this was strange.. I would think the kids who paid $20 to see him could use that money more than he needed those $300 worth of records.. Oh well.. After the show i went to get my coat. I told him I didn't need it back and if he had other shows along the way he could just take it. His response was. "Oh no no no no.. I have a way better one at home. It's leather" (this part works best if you imagine his funny voice saying it) he gives me the jacket and walks away. ha ha ha A bit lacking in social graces! No thanks or anything. On my way out I notice him sitting on stage letting young punk kids give him foot massages!?!? WTF So anyway.. after all this I went home gathered up my Dead Kennedy albums and sold them to the shop.
I would have loved it if you used the money to buy a better trenchcoat, make the story a little Gift of the Magi-ish. ;p Do these guys count as celebrities?
Rollins name checks Yukio Mishima in that essay. Spectactular death there, seppuku followed by a botched finish by his Kaishakunin in the Tokyo headquarters of the Eastern Command of Japan's Self-Defense Forces in 1970 after a failed coup to restore Imperial power. Stranger than fiction, had no idea Rollins was a Mishima fan.
I've been a Rollins fan for about 18 years now. I saw him out for dinner in Austin a year ago and we locked eyes for a second probably because I was staring at him. I didn't have the balls to say anything. My golden grail of celebrity meetings is Gary Oldman. Runner up: Jon Voigt.
I have frequent brushes with Celebrities. http://flickr.com/photos/missymazzaferr ... 682702321/ thankfully I usually have a camera in hand.
I helped Hank the Angry Drunk Dwarf get on a bus in port authority ny. we hung out for about a half hour. also met the boss in jersey.
I stood behind Lisa Loeb in line at our small regional airport, and met Zamora the Torture King in another airport. Bob Barker has been in the store a couple of times, as has Kathleen Turner. I drank a beer a table away from Zander Schloss once. I pretty much hang constantly with celebrities, as you can tell from my name dropping... Never met Henry Rollins or PeeWee though...
I got to hang out with the Melvins after a show in Lawrence Kansas. My friend knew the guy who worked the PA and they let us record the show. Good times...
I had coffee with Lloyd Kauffman (pres of Troma). I had a boring conversation with Lou Barlow (Dinosaur Jr, Sebadoh. & Folk Implosion). I have hung out with many of the guys from the Howard Stern Show (Sal, Beetlejuice, Bob Levy, etc). I had a beer with Joe Queer of the Queers, hopefully a few more this Saturday. I befriended the band "American Analog Set" and they crashed at my house a few years back (wild night).
back in like 1986 I came across Rollins outside a radio shack in downtown Pittsburgh. Black Flag were playing that night. He was nice, polite, not exactly super friendly. I had been a huge fan of his old band, State Of Alert. About 10 years ago I ended up eating dinner with Mike Ness and some friends, some girl came by and told us her little brother was more punk rock than all of us. She had no idea she was talking to Mike Ness, it was awesome. For me one of the best nights of my life was hanging out with Mickey Fitz, singer for the Business-the old school British Oi! band. I love them. He was great, funny as hell.
The Business are an awesome Oi! band. There's a genius live skit where Fitz goes to a concertgoer that's singing-along "are you a fucking parrot, or what?"... brilliant stuff, sharp and on point.
The (former?) wrestler Raven saw me in a comic shop once (I saw him too, but it's my story so he saw me!) and was totally checking out my tattoos. I could tell he wanted me to acknowledge him and talk about tattoos, but I really didn't want to. I wasn't big enough of a fan, thought he was kind of a joke and knew the conversation would get weird.' The only "famous" person I ever had a REAL conversation with was Lloyd Kaufman of Troma, but I think everyone has, or can, he's pretty personable. I always feel weird approaching famous people, so I don't. If THEY have something to say to ME I'll continue and go in for it all. When I worked at a record store, Charlie from Anthrax was shopping there once with his kid. A friend of mine was there talking to me and freaked "DUDE!" he kind of whispered and pointed. Than he went up to him. You could totally tell Charlie did NOT want to be bothered, he was spending time with his kid, and just kind of thanked my friend and went back to shopping. Later my friend was like "he was a dick!" Yeah, real dick, who WOULD want to be left alone with their kid?!
GWAR was in my car back during the Hell-O tour. I took them to Frisch's big boy after the show. I stood behind Jake the Snake Roberts at Old Faithful. And later saw him at the Detroit Airport when I was picking up a friend. My sister had a hotel room the night she got married. We went there after the reception and Greg The Hammer Valentine was walking out as we were walking in. I flew back from SDCC on the same flight as Pushead. That probably doesn't count since I saw him the day before at the signing.
he has a shepard fairey poster that went on sale today: http://www.obeygiant.com/store/product. ... t=0&page=1
My wife and I sat next to Flavor Flav at Benihanas one day after church. Christina Applegate sat behind me in Alegebra class in Jr. High.
i got to meet hershel gordon lewis on the set of chainsaw sally. lloyd kaufman explained to me the science involved in pulling a chicken out of an ass at an airing of Citizen Toxie in Minneapolis, MN. I pissed in a stall next Kevin Eastman at the chicago con 2006. Frank Miller bought me a $75 shot of some exotic liquor at chicago con 2006, i can't remember the drink, cause i was pretty tanked. we discussed the question of batman's secual preference and if batman's association with the Joker really had anything to do with his darkness. I was at a Minneapolis party with the dudes from Interpol, and they are all quite arrogant assholes. Kevin Smith bitched at me for taking his picture when he was the auctioneer at a chicago comic con 2005. He placed a bid for me of 1000 dollars on something i didn't want, because he said the flash from my camera counted as a bid..... that's about the length of my list of celebrity encounters. btw, Henry Rollins spoken word kicks so much ass!!!! The only other spoken word i'd like to hear is from Mojo Nixon. I hear he has a AM station show in California. All you californiaites, have you heard it?
