Post by Skull and Bones on Oct 24, 2006 22:30:45 GMT -5
Evil and I have had many adventures together. Like there was a time when we travelled to the distant dimension of Kwaad to free a lost princess from her alien captors who were all shaped like two headded Gumbi clones. Then there was that time when an Intergalatic entity ensared us to be a part of a band and then made us fight other bands to the death. Our greatest adventure however happened more recently on a chilly and slightly breeze October afternoon.
We waited in line for well over an hour making small talk amidst other nervous or excited people also making small talk. No this wasn't a singles bar for burned out metalheads, we were there to meet a man. A great man. A legend. That man's name was Vinnie Paul.
We had made numerous cracks that we were just there looking for some guitar pics and microphones to see if we would be allowed in faster but it didn't work. So after purchasing a drum head for my pal Teepee we headded slowly but surely to the lineup until at last. There he was. He stood in his humble little way with his shoulders slightly hunched inward as his dark eyebrows and merry expression lowered to sign yet something else that would make a precious keepsake for the person who owned it. In my pocket I held my dog eared copy of Cowboys From Hell. This CD had been with me when I left home for Collage, moved back home, then back to the city. It'd travelled with me on the road for many gigs I worked and even out to BC with us. And now it was about to meet it's maker, literally.
I was a nervous wreck by the time Evil and I had hit the front of the line and when the man motioned to me to step forward to meet Vinnie I hesitated a second. Fourteen long years I'd been listening to this man's music. Fourteen years I'd been waiting to shake his hand and say thanks. Every shitty relationship, final exam, fight, loss, win, death, unemployment and all the crap inbetween it was this guy's tunes that kept me in one piece. So what do you say at a moment like that?
"Uh hi.. uh.. Mr.Paul.. er.. Vinnie.. er Mr. Paul.."
"Vinnie's fine." he said and shot me a huge shit eating grin. "How are ya doing?" he asked and shook my hand. I grinned right back.
"Right fine Vinnie."
He asked for my CD's to sign which I happily obliged. I paused to glance at my hand which had shook his and realized that my right meathook was now the most AWESOME FUCKING HAND EVER CREATED!
Since I figured everyone would be asking him about Dime I instead chose a different route, explaining to him how Cowboys had influenced my directions in life and how great Rebel Meets Rebel and finally asking him what it was like to work with David Allen Coe.
"Dave? Heh. Dave's great man. He's a real cheracter."
And with that, and the flash of a camera it was done and I sat and glanced at him. I'd always heard that Vinnie was a very genuine and kind individual and I was pleased to see that he was. Maybe it was for the sake of appearances or maybe it was because judging by his eyes, he was as high as a fucking kite. That's OK though, it's Vinnie Paul.
So Evil and i left and contemplated what we'd just experienced over a celebratory burger. All in all, it was really really really awesome.
I take two things away, that sometimes someone famous is just a regular person who happens to make really awesome tunes. And two, that Vinnie Paul is the motherfucking man.
We waited in line for well over an hour making small talk amidst other nervous or excited people also making small talk. No this wasn't a singles bar for burned out metalheads, we were there to meet a man. A great man. A legend. That man's name was Vinnie Paul.
We had made numerous cracks that we were just there looking for some guitar pics and microphones to see if we would be allowed in faster but it didn't work. So after purchasing a drum head for my pal Teepee we headded slowly but surely to the lineup until at last. There he was. He stood in his humble little way with his shoulders slightly hunched inward as his dark eyebrows and merry expression lowered to sign yet something else that would make a precious keepsake for the person who owned it. In my pocket I held my dog eared copy of Cowboys From Hell. This CD had been with me when I left home for Collage, moved back home, then back to the city. It'd travelled with me on the road for many gigs I worked and even out to BC with us. And now it was about to meet it's maker, literally.
I was a nervous wreck by the time Evil and I had hit the front of the line and when the man motioned to me to step forward to meet Vinnie I hesitated a second. Fourteen long years I'd been listening to this man's music. Fourteen years I'd been waiting to shake his hand and say thanks. Every shitty relationship, final exam, fight, loss, win, death, unemployment and all the crap inbetween it was this guy's tunes that kept me in one piece. So what do you say at a moment like that?
"Uh hi.. uh.. Mr.Paul.. er.. Vinnie.. er Mr. Paul.."
"Vinnie's fine." he said and shot me a huge shit eating grin. "How are ya doing?" he asked and shook my hand. I grinned right back.
"Right fine Vinnie."
He asked for my CD's to sign which I happily obliged. I paused to glance at my hand which had shook his and realized that my right meathook was now the most AWESOME FUCKING HAND EVER CREATED!
Since I figured everyone would be asking him about Dime I instead chose a different route, explaining to him how Cowboys had influenced my directions in life and how great Rebel Meets Rebel and finally asking him what it was like to work with David Allen Coe.
"Dave? Heh. Dave's great man. He's a real cheracter."
And with that, and the flash of a camera it was done and I sat and glanced at him. I'd always heard that Vinnie was a very genuine and kind individual and I was pleased to see that he was. Maybe it was for the sake of appearances or maybe it was because judging by his eyes, he was as high as a fucking kite. That's OK though, it's Vinnie Paul.
So Evil and i left and contemplated what we'd just experienced over a celebratory burger. All in all, it was really really really awesome.
I take two things away, that sometimes someone famous is just a regular person who happens to make really awesome tunes. And two, that Vinnie Paul is the motherfucking man.
