testa . That’s my favorite Sergio Leon film. But my favorite line was delivered by James Coburn.” He recited the line about revolution and confusion.
“Okay, how about this…” I gave him a Dennis Hopper quote from a film in which he played the character Deacon.
“Dennis Hopper, Waterworld. ”
“Goddamn it. I didn’t think anyone saw that film. How about one more?”
“Sure.”
David had bested me with his Bubba Ho-Tep line. I didn’t want to be outdone. I needed to at least even the score with him. “Okay, I got it.” I gave him a line from a cult indie film that mentioned floating away like a butterfly, and the wastelands not being any place for a kid.
“ Six-String Samurai with Eddie Falcon as the sword-wielding, guitar playing, Buddy Holly/Elvis Costello look-alike.”
“I should have known you’d get that one; it’s sort of music related.”
“I’ll give you one more shot.”
I paused for a moment. I needed to stump him. I had to come up with some film he would never have seen. Thought about the film Freaks, then remembered he was a Ramones fan, so that was out. Princess Bride ? No, too easy. Reefer Madness, Eraserhead ? No, too cult, he’d definitely get it. This is Spinal Tap ? Again too easy. Then it hit me. I knew a quote about a place beyond, beyond, and bidding a genie to appear. I was sure I would get him on this.
He didn’t respond right away. He had a puzzled look upon his face as he thought about what film it could be. Had I stumped him? Had I actually done it?
Then he said, “ The 7 th Voyage of Sinbad .”
“Shit. I thought I had you on that one.”
“Nope. Ray Harryhausen, the pioneer of Claymation. That pause was just me contemplating which Sinbad film it came from.”
We were enjoying ourselves, momentary relief from the chaos above and the uncertainty of our future.
“Moving on,” I said. “How about top ten bands and/or artists? You first.”
I held out my glass to my new comrade for another pour. We raised our glasses once again and gave one another cheers.
“Top ten… well, I can tell you my number one favorite is The Misfits.”
“They don’t have to be in order,” I said.
“Okay, but my number one favorite is still The Misfits… Misfits, Cannibal Corpse, L7, Skatenigs, Ministry, Judas Priest, Pussy Crush, Bauhaus, KMFDM, and Rob Zombie … now you.”
“My list is rather eclectic… Paul Williams,” I began, but was immediately interrupted.
“As in Swan!?” David asked with excited curiosity.
“Of course,” I told him.
“ Phantom Of The Paradise is one of the greatest American musical films of all time.”
“I concur. But may I continue?” I asked. He nodded for me to proceed. I repeated, “Paul Williams,” and finished my list with “Harry Connick, Jr., Jim Steinman, Elton John, Joe Jackson, Chicago… Shane MacGowan, The Tiger Lillies, The Tossers, and Gary Moore.”
David asked, “ Gary Moore? Who the hell is Gary Moore?”
“Guitar player… Thin Lizzy.”
David looked at me dumbfounded.
“ How can you not remember him?” I asked. “You opened three shows in Ireland for him .”
David shrugged and poured himself another drink. “That European tour we did was one big party. I don’t remember much of it.”
More than half the bottle was gone.
“Jeez, I’m buzzed. And I gotta piss again. Hey, Julie. Find anything?”
“Yeah. Lots of stuff.”
“Yeah, but nuts and bolts don’t count. I mean useful, like that emergency kit on the wall you’ve walked by four times.” I couldn’t wait any longer; I had to go. “Alright everyone, I gotta use the sink. Just a warning.”
When I returned David was arranging the crowded desktop with the items Julie had set down: tools, flashlights and other possibly useful objects. Her foraging expedition seemed to have paid off.
“All right,” I said to David. “What’s your plan?”
“Pack this stuff up in the totes and head down the tunnel to Amtrak.”
“We
“Okay, how about this…” I gave him a Dennis Hopper quote from a film in which he played the character Deacon.
“Dennis Hopper, Waterworld. ”
“Goddamn it. I didn’t think anyone saw that film. How about one more?”
“Sure.”
David had bested me with his Bubba Ho-Tep line. I didn’t want to be outdone. I needed to at least even the score with him. “Okay, I got it.” I gave him a line from a cult indie film that mentioned floating away like a butterfly, and the wastelands not being any place for a kid.
“ Six-String Samurai with Eddie Falcon as the sword-wielding, guitar playing, Buddy Holly/Elvis Costello look-alike.”
“I should have known you’d get that one; it’s sort of music related.”
“I’ll give you one more shot.”
I paused for a moment. I needed to stump him. I had to come up with some film he would never have seen. Thought about the film Freaks, then remembered he was a Ramones fan, so that was out. Princess Bride ? No, too easy. Reefer Madness, Eraserhead ? No, too cult, he’d definitely get it. This is Spinal Tap ? Again too easy. Then it hit me. I knew a quote about a place beyond, beyond, and bidding a genie to appear. I was sure I would get him on this.
He didn’t respond right away. He had a puzzled look upon his face as he thought about what film it could be. Had I stumped him? Had I actually done it?
Then he said, “ The 7 th Voyage of Sinbad .”
“Shit. I thought I had you on that one.”
“Nope. Ray Harryhausen, the pioneer of Claymation. That pause was just me contemplating which Sinbad film it came from.”
We were enjoying ourselves, momentary relief from the chaos above and the uncertainty of our future.
“Moving on,” I said. “How about top ten bands and/or artists? You first.”
I held out my glass to my new comrade for another pour. We raised our glasses once again and gave one another cheers.
“Top ten… well, I can tell you my number one favorite is The Misfits.”
“They don’t have to be in order,” I said.
“Okay, but my number one favorite is still The Misfits… Misfits, Cannibal Corpse, L7, Skatenigs, Ministry, Judas Priest, Pussy Crush, Bauhaus, KMFDM, and Rob Zombie … now you.”
“My list is rather eclectic… Paul Williams,” I began, but was immediately interrupted.
“As in Swan!?” David asked with excited curiosity.
“Of course,” I told him.
“ Phantom Of The Paradise is one of the greatest American musical films of all time.”
“I concur. But may I continue?” I asked. He nodded for me to proceed. I repeated, “Paul Williams,” and finished my list with “Harry Connick, Jr., Jim Steinman, Elton John, Joe Jackson, Chicago… Shane MacGowan, The Tiger Lillies, The Tossers, and Gary Moore.”
David asked, “ Gary Moore? Who the hell is Gary Moore?”
“Guitar player… Thin Lizzy.”
David looked at me dumbfounded.
“ How can you not remember him?” I asked. “You opened three shows in Ireland for him .”
David shrugged and poured himself another drink. “That European tour we did was one big party. I don’t remember much of it.”
More than half the bottle was gone.
“Jeez, I’m buzzed. And I gotta piss again. Hey, Julie. Find anything?”
“Yeah. Lots of stuff.”
“Yeah, but nuts and bolts don’t count. I mean useful, like that emergency kit on the wall you’ve walked by four times.” I couldn’t wait any longer; I had to go. “Alright everyone, I gotta use the sink. Just a warning.”
When I returned David was arranging the crowded desktop with the items Julie had set down: tools, flashlights and other possibly useful objects. Her foraging expedition seemed to have paid off.
“All right,” I said to David. “What’s your plan?”
“Pack this stuff up in the totes and head down the tunnel to Amtrak.”
“We
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