Rock 'N' Roll 5592 (1652)
Saturday, September 9, 2006-12:45 P.M.
Saturday mornings on the road are always a bittersweet feeling. On the one hand, I'm excited that the week is almost over and I get to go back home to my wife and daughter who I love and miss very much, but on the other hand, I'm still trying to shake the stink of the Friday late show out of my head.
Actually, Friday's shows weren't that bad, the late show was actually better than the early show for me. I'm starting to understand that the Cleveland audiences really aren't into doing math when you tell them a joke....it almost has to be the bluntest possible presentation, and they love the graphic sex stuff. I've been closing with a bit about solving the Mexican immigration problem by sending Mexicans to Iraq to fight, and I guess a gentleman from the first show thought it was racist. I actually say that Mexicans would probably get the whole war over with in about a week, and the joke is complimentary about their work ethic, but I guess I'm out of line saying that. The guy mentioned something to each of the other comics just in range for me to hear, but never addressed me specifically. Fine. Guys like that are just looking for something to be pissed about, I've seen it a hundred times if I've seen it once. It bothers me, but I'll have it purged from my mind in a couple of hours. Writing about it helps, I think.
Our crowds this week have all been pretty sketchy, in attendance as well as quality. They're picky, they groan a lot, and it's not a reflection of the talent on stage, because the other guys I'm working with are very funny, and not for nothing, but I think I'm worthy of being up there, too. Working the mc spot at an "A" room is a little new to me, but it's not that much different than mc'ing anywhere else. The thing I've been getting used to is doing the shorter time, and not having any warmup to coast on. I've been doing a lot of "rah-rah" stuff about the Cleveland Browns, and they sort of like that, so it's not horrible (I follow it up with a joke....I'm not just straight pandering).
Yesterday, Nate decided we should go out and walk, which I was all for,except I didn't realize what I was in for. This heartless motherfucker took me up a 45 degree incline that almost made my fat man's heart explode. I was drenched in sweat by the time we arrived at the lakefront. We went to the Browns' stadium and tried to convince the security guard that we were out-of-town visitors and it would be nice if he would let us walk around a little bit, but he gave us the elbows and knuckles quicker than you can say "I hope the Saints whip your sorry asses this Sunday." He was very terse. Nate chided him a little, saying "Hey, you don't have to whip the Taser gun out, we're leaving." I thought the whole exchange could've been handled better....I think Nate's mistake was that he didn't try to talk to the guard through the little window, he walked all the way around and stepped halfway into the open door of the guard shack. That's a no-no, apparently.
We kept walking and found our way to the world famous Rock 'N' Roll Hall of Fame. Pickin's were a little better there, as we were able to talk our way in to some $8 day passes for free, with the promise that we would leave tickets at the Improv for the nice lady day manager who helped us out. I know we're not big stars or anything, but we are entertainers from out of town....it's nice when you get the little acknowledgements, even if they don't present you with the key to the city.
Anyway, the RNRHOF is great, even if it's a little smaller than I thought it would be. They had wonderful exhibits on the Beatles, Rolling Stones, Jimi Hendrix, Bob Dylan, and hundreds of other names. They had about a thousand guitars, former properties of absolute legends, they had vinyl that would bring a king's ransom on eBay, outfits that were worn on stage and in videos by stars aplenty. It was staggering. They had childhood drawings that Jimi Hendrix did when he was called John (didn't know he changed his name) and apparently, he was a big UCLA Bruins fan. He drew pictures of other college athletes catching footballs and running for touchdowns, and I'm sure someone with a knowledge of psychology would have a field day. The coolest part of the Hendrix exhibit were some quotes by him that were up on the wall ringing the exhibit room....one of them stuck in my head, and I had to write it down. It said, "My own thing is in my head. I hear sounds and if I don't get them together, nobody else will." I thought that was pretty amazing, thinking about the sounds that must have been in Jimi Hendrix's head....it probably would have turned a normal man insane.
I was really impressed by some of the outfits in the collection....they had Chuck D's outfit from Public Enemy's "Terrordome" tour, and Bruce Springsteen's outfit that he wore on the cover of "Born In The USA." Now granted, it was just a white T-shirt and blue jeans with a red cap in the pocket....that's a pretty easy outfit to fake.....but It looked pretty authentic to me. The jeans were all worn and ripped, and it made we wonder if when Bruce was buying those jeans if he even had a clue that they would make it to the cover of an album of his that not only would go multi-platinum, but would become one of the most iconic releases of the decade? Think about that stuff, Casual Male employees, next time I come in and buy a fat guy shirt.
They had one exhibit that I'll probably never forget, and that was an amp stack built by the guitar player from the Quicksilver Messenger Service, a psychedelic band from San Francisco. He had welded horns and trumpets to the amp stack, so that when the amplified noise came out of the cabinets, it would go through the horns, augmenting the sound. It was a horrible, acid-trippy looking thing, but I'd pay money to hear what a guitar sounded like coming through it. Stuff like that really fascinates me. Another display that really touched me was the Who's John Entwhistle's "Buzzard" bass guitar. He designed it for the company that manufactured it, and it looked like an actual turkey buzzard. The headstock and body were green with gold hardware, and it had a black maple neck. The headstock was in the shape of the head of the bird, and the body was the rest of the guitar. I remember being an elementary bass guitar student and reading the bass player magazines of the 80's and seeing ads for the buzzard bass and thinking, "Wow, if I ever get a couple of thousand dollars together, that would be an awesome thing to have." Well, John's dead now, and I think a buzzard bass would be somewhere in the tens of thousands of dollars, particularly a signed one like the RNRHOF has. I'm just glad I got to see it.
Our tour of the hallended with a film in the hall's screening room. It outlined all of the hall's inductees, year after year, on three big screens. From the first year, 1986, all the way thorugh the present day, 2006, the presentation lasted an hour and it included some amazing concert footage, TV appearances on shows like "American Bandstand" and "Soul Train," and interview footage of some of the most amazing acts in history. The presentation lined them up, one by one, and they just kept coming. I sang along to almost every song, played air guitar and air drums, and slapped my knees in time to dozens of rock classics. I really got teary-eyed when rock stars who had passed were mentioned, performers like Roy Orbison, the recently departed Billy Preston and Johnny Cash. I got all worked up when performers that I love were mentioned, The Clash, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, U2, Neil Young. It was really amazing seeing vintage footage of guys like Isaac Hayes, Sly and The Family Stone, Elvis Costello and Jackson Browne. George Harrison made me cry a little. Another time I cried was when they showed a young Michael Jackson as a member of the Jackson 5. It was horrible for me to think about what a train wreck he's become, a tortured soul, a monster. Even the 80's Michael, who was inducted in 2001, still looked pretty stable. Others made my heart just pump, like Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers, Cream, Black Sabbath, Bob Marley and the Byrds. I think I jumped up when the Ramones came on. It was an absolute thrill, and I recommend it.
On a cute little aside note, Nate and I entered the theater just as the previous performance was ending, and there was a middle-aged couple over in the corner, sharing a kiss when they thought no one was looking. It was neat to see that, and I hope Pamela and I feel that way about each other when we're older. Even though I don't think the RNRHOF is really her speed, she doesn't know anything about rock 'n' roll. Just kidding, sweetheart, I know you read this!
So anyway, you can see more about the RNRHOF at www.rockhall.com and if you get a chance, go.
Ralph Tetta
Rochester, NY
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