Hanging out with David Abercrombie, one of the world's best bass players ...
We were driving down the 10 freeway, the Santa Monica, actually (Hmmm - the "S'n'M" freeway?) on the way to his gig, and tellin' stories. I gave him an official printed version of a story about us on the road, called, "Whacky Wednesday." He loved it. He's something of a mountain man from the 15th century. A manimal. So there we were on a Friday night, in rush-hour annoying traffic at 10 p.m., on our way to another CD release party from one of his countless bands (that he's probably too good for). Ha!
He doesn't know this Blog exists.
He doesn't have email.
He does play a mean bass, though. Any of you out there who have seen/heard him will know what I mean. He did that, "Bwep-dee-doo - Bwarg, Bwaaaarg!" thing he's famous for. We also talked about Karl Reed the sax man, who may be getting married in "Under three weeks ..." That could be in 2 days, said Abercrombie. Hey, you're right, says I, that IS under three weeks. Laughter. It could also be in 2 hours! So Cumbie jammed, and fun was had by all, and then we returned late to his pad, after a brief stint in a limousine, with un-disclosed amounts of whisky. (Read about it in the next Blog?) So when I woke up, I was in his rustic dungeon, somewhere in East Hollywood. In case you're wondering what he reads, here's a small list of the books that don his walls:
He's got some Stephen King, some Carlos Castenada, one called "The Two Germanies Since 1945," "The Death Of Yugoslavia," some Karl Marx, also "Book Of The Strange," The Bible, "Rebirth Of Nature," some E.E. Cummings, and perhaps my fave, "The Multi-Orgasmic Man ..."
During the gig there was this extreeemely wasted babe who decided to dance right in front of us, so I started edging her on, to do other dances, and she did. It was a kind of dare contest, if you will. I started with, "Hey, can ya do a Cher, pretending to be Elmer Fudd?" And she did it! Then it was Jesus does Saturday Night Fever, which she pulled off splendidly. Yes, it was turning into one of those Mystic evenings. Then I requested a mythical Fairy god Mother on crack (which was QUITE interesting! Her interpretation wasn't what I expected!). Then Marilyn Manson goes to Disneyland. But I stumped her on Billie Holliday does the watusi! High fives all around ... Dance, mad-girl, dance!!!!!!!!!! Ah, yes, hanging with Abercrombie.
We don't drink American beer.
We are not responsible people.
Then driving back, way after midnight, and the SM freeway is empty, and we get on this tangent of imagining that you were making love on some railroad tracks (he claims a girl took him to that place), yes, your on the tracks, and it's the best sex you've ever had, and you start to hear the train a-coming, and you hear the, "Toot toot!" getting closer and closer, and guess what: it's sooo good that you JUST DON'T CARE! Bam! Dream upon that one for awhile, friends! And I talked to my sister on the telephone (who's now married - my sister, not the telephone), telling her that I'm hanging out with Abercrombie, and she goes, "Some guys have just GOT it ..."
-Todd
Larry Flynt For Governor!
Posted by calico at August 14, 2003 11:19 AM