Tuesday, November 01, 2005

A Call From the Other Side

Just like the prodigal son, I've returned. However, if you step to me, I'll probably just stare at you for a few seconds and then walk away in disgust.

The Gluecifer show was awesome. A spectacle in every sense of the word. There were go-go dancers, inflatable demons, a giant movie screen showing clips from the 1966 Batman movie, a sloppy fat guy dressed as Winnie the Pooh wandering around aimlessly, and a special surprise appearance by none other than Bobby "Boris" Pickett. He sang "Monster Mash" right before Gluecifer came on, and he sang it with all the gusto of a man of twenty. Incredible, considering Pickett is roughly 1,000 years old.

I have to hand it to Gluecifer - they didn't milk the whole "final performance" thing. They just got up there and played their sweet Norwegian brand of hard rock. The only indication that the Glues were actually hanging it up came from singer Biff Malibu right before the band launched into their closing number, "Black Book Lodge."

"This is our last song," he said casually. "ever."

In fact, the band members looked like they were having such a good time up there, you'd think it was their first show. After "Black Book Lodge," the giant movie screen came down in front of the stage once again, and I realized there would be no encore. That's when the heaviness of the affair hit me. No more Gluecifer. The only band from the past decade I really gave a shit about was done. As sweaty bodies shuffled forward to await Rocket from the Crypt, I exited the venue with my bittersweet memories.

The next two and a half days were spent in my hometown of Ridgefield, CT, hangin' with mah homeboys and doing little of significance. Here's some pictures (all taken by my good friend Ian Murren):

The two Jims, together again. You probably recognize Jim Rumpf from this classic image (or perhaps this one). We've been pals since second grade. Here, I think Jim was distracted by two hunks who were making out on a nearby bed.

Whenever I'm in Ridgefield, my friend John Piacquadio and I form this band called Onofrio. About three days after our first practice in 2001, we played our one and only show at a pizza parlor in the Bronx. We tried to weasel our way onto the bill at some happening this weekend, but it didn't work out. I'm really playing the harmonica in this picture, by the way, not just pretending.

Me in front of Ridgefield's Town Hall. Note the regal eagle. When I was in middle school, I had to attend group therapy in the basement of this building. Those were not pleasant times.

Strolling past Keeler Tavern, one of many historical landmarks in Ridgefield that date back to the Revolutionary War. A passerby asked me who was on my shirt after this photo was taken. I was this close to saying, "Your mother." This close.

Perhaps the most famous Ridgefield landmark, the fountain. It greets all visitors who come to town via Route 35 from New York (directly behind me). So many drunk drivers have careened into this bad boy over the years that it may just be a replica now. Something smelled really awful while I was standing there. It may have been me.

On the grounds of a nunnery/prep school on the edge of town. You can almost see to Vermont in this one. I was more concerned with the cuffs coming undone on my pants, which explains why I'm staring at the ground.

This is the first frame of a short movie Ian took of me frolicking in the leaves at Veteren's Park. I should have him send it to me. It's pretty frightening.

All in all, a fun trip. It did me good to get away from the hustle and bustle of the greater Orlando area. Now it's back to the hectic grind of substitute teaching. Sigh.


Post a Comment

<< Home