I don't own a dresser. I haven't needed one. June of 2007 was the first time I spent more than two weeks in one place since 2001. I have been on the road for six years. Musicians go on the road for a few months, maybe a year or two if they're lucky. We are on the road 35 weeks a year, every year. Why? Cause the road is a cigarette. You do too much of it at once and you become sick, but stay away too long and you start getting snippy with your loved ones. Road stories? We have a lot of them. We should.
It was 2001, I think. (Time speeds up on the road. Months become weeks, and a month ago is a lifetime. Yet Sundays always seem to last forever.) What I do know is that I was in Miami, and I was opening for Doug Stanhope...
This was the first time I had ever met Mr. Stanhope. It was an encounter that would change my life. I had just finished my set, and was watching Doug. I was blown away. I could barely breathe I was laughing so hard. I, however, was in the minority. Both in opinion and race. People were booing and screaming at Doug. I guess they didn't like the joke that ended "I'm destroying my body? You've had four kids. I could stick my hand in your cunt and still have room to flip a coin." They started to leave in droves. People were streaming out of the showroom. Doug didn't care. He kept going. By the time his set ended, the crowd that started at 80 had dwindled to 20. But the 20 who stayed, like me, would have followed him to the end of the Earth.
I instead followed him to the end of the bar where he sat triumphantly defeated. He had put an entire box of his new CD out near the exit to see if anyone would just take one. I was afraid that he would hate me cause my set went okay, but he didn't. He instead bought me a beer, sat me down, and he and I along with the MC Patrick Deguire got obliterated. After about an hour a couple of 30-something bar hags stumbled into the club. By this time Doug, Patrick, and I were the only ones in the bar not wearing a uniform. We were hammered. The "ladies" explained they had gotten severely lost and missed the show and demanded that we put on a show for them. We graciously declined. The alpha-skank reiterated that she and her co-whort wanted to see a show, so Doug replied "Oh, you wanna see a show, huh.?" That's when I saw the look that only crosses a man's face when he's about to pull his dick out. Seeing this, I placed myself strategically on the other side of the bar so as to see the whores' reaction, yet save myself the trauma of seeing Stanhope's veiny member.
It was awesome. Stanhope just pulled it out. One of the girls gasped, while the other one didn't skip a beat. Patrick Deguire is legally blind so he just stood there. He knew what was going on, but couldn't see anything. I mean if I was blind and I knew there was a stray dick out, I probably wouldn't move much either. Stanhope must have had it out for a good 90 seconds as he talked to the skanks.. Any man can pull his dick out for a few seconds, but it takes a special kind of crazy to keep it out for that amount of time. I couldn't believe it. I kept asking if it was still out and they would just keep nodding they're head. When he finally put it away, they left and we went right back to drinking. Doug Stanhope is my hero and my friend for a lot of reasons. All those reasons began on this night in Miami.
Peace and Love,
CP
