You Can Never Go Home Again
That's what they say. Just take a look at the Big J.C. Left his home town one day a bastard carpenter, a few years later shows up claiming to be the Almighty Son of God. And what did his friends, family and neighbours say? Well, they very understandably wanted to put him in a nice, rubber cave for a few years.
The reason I bring this up is that recently I saw something about a guy I knew in high school. Okay, had a bit of a crush on, whatever. Anyway, I worked with him at McDonald's and went to high school with him. Nice guy, totally new wave, British born (exotic!), wafer thin, Flock of Seagulls bangs, the whole deal. What's not to like? He of course was waaay too cool for me, but we were always friendly.
Years later, in University I saw him dj'ing around the city, usually techno stuff. It wasn't really my taste, I found it hard to dance to eleven minutes of a electronic drum beat while a computerized voice repeated "evolve" in a monotone, but that's just me. Cheap beer night is cheap beer night, you go where the pitcher takes you.
This one place hailed him as "world famous" on their flyer. When I saw him I joked "World famous eh, Rich... which world would that be?" He just blushed like crazy and said nothing. But other friends assured me that he was "big in Europe" in the techno scene. Ah, I thought, easily claimable, hard to verify. I chalked it up to Windsorites trying to grab a little fame where they could find it.
Years later a friend of mine who is into raves and is from the UK showed me an industry mag with his picture and a story in it. This lent a little credence to the "big in Europe" bit. (England is a part of Europe, right?)
My incredulity may have something to do with my not being the least interested in techno. I understand that it's an art form and I get the visceral need to release through movement and music, but with my lyric jones I need to be able to get something more than just danceability out of a song. Or it may have something to do with my inability to believe anything of value can come out of my home town. It really says more about me than about anyone else.
So the other day I came across an interview with Rich that also claimed he was big stuff. Turns out he just might be. He's still dj'ing and doing the techno thing, whizzing around the world to fabulous clubs, hobnobbing with the beautiful people, and generally being self-actualized.
And yet I still find it hard to believe. No offence to him in the slightest, it's just that after witnessing a person cleaning out the fry vats, well, it's hard to picture them as anything far removed from that. Don't get me wrong, I started there too, and I assure you I have moved far beyond my mad up-selling skillz (would you like another link with this post?). I guess the real issue is that it was the only dimension I really knew of him, a geeky teenager like me.
The point is, he grew up and has done well for himself. Although, after seeing one of his videos*, I am kinda leaning toward the nice, rubber cave myself.
*Warning: you may need to do some 'e' before watching this video. I hear that if you do, it will totally. Blow. Yer. Mind.
Dude.
The reason I bring this up is that recently I saw something about a guy I knew in high school. Okay, had a bit of a crush on, whatever. Anyway, I worked with him at McDonald's and went to high school with him. Nice guy, totally new wave, British born (exotic!), wafer thin, Flock of Seagulls bangs, the whole deal. What's not to like? He of course was waaay too cool for me, but we were always friendly.
Years later, in University I saw him dj'ing around the city, usually techno stuff. It wasn't really my taste, I found it hard to dance to eleven minutes of a electronic drum beat while a computerized voice repeated "evolve" in a monotone, but that's just me. Cheap beer night is cheap beer night, you go where the pitcher takes you.
This one place hailed him as "world famous" on their flyer. When I saw him I joked "World famous eh, Rich... which world would that be?" He just blushed like crazy and said nothing. But other friends assured me that he was "big in Europe" in the techno scene. Ah, I thought, easily claimable, hard to verify. I chalked it up to Windsorites trying to grab a little fame where they could find it.
Years later a friend of mine who is into raves and is from the UK showed me an industry mag with his picture and a story in it. This lent a little credence to the "big in Europe" bit. (England is a part of Europe, right?)
My incredulity may have something to do with my not being the least interested in techno. I understand that it's an art form and I get the visceral need to release through movement and music, but with my lyric jones I need to be able to get something more than just danceability out of a song. Or it may have something to do with my inability to believe anything of value can come out of my home town. It really says more about me than about anyone else.
So the other day I came across an interview with Rich that also claimed he was big stuff. Turns out he just might be. He's still dj'ing and doing the techno thing, whizzing around the world to fabulous clubs, hobnobbing with the beautiful people, and generally being self-actualized.
And yet I still find it hard to believe. No offence to him in the slightest, it's just that after witnessing a person cleaning out the fry vats, well, it's hard to picture them as anything far removed from that. Don't get me wrong, I started there too, and I assure you I have moved far beyond my mad up-selling skillz (would you like another link with this post?). I guess the real issue is that it was the only dimension I really knew of him, a geeky teenager like me.
The point is, he grew up and has done well for himself. Although, after seeing one of his videos*, I am kinda leaning toward the nice, rubber cave myself.
*Warning: you may need to do some 'e' before watching this video. I hear that if you do, it will totally. Blow. Yer. Mind.
Dude.
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