Six Degrees of Zapparation
I always apprecaited Frank Zappa for his wicked wit and innovation. I apprecaited him more in the 1980's when he battled Tipper Gore and her racially-biased, censorship attacks with the PMRC. I appreciate him more now that he's gone and music has gone to hell in a handbasket full of Lumpy Gravy ever since.
I miss the guy that took a chance and did it weird when weird was totally uncool. I think Frank and I would have gotten along okay and it would have been fun to see him get more dense as he aged. A prostate the size of a softball took care of that.
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My wife went for breakfast with a friend in Gainesville, FL in 2004, and the familiar guy in the chair turned out to be Dweezil Zappa. They were seated in the restaurant, on the other side of the glass, from a guy that carried half the chromosome load of a twisted genius I admire.
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That's the closest I'll ever get to meeting Frank, my wife sitting on the other side of the glass from his kid.
posted by Schmootzie @ 3:24 AM
1 Comments:
Last fall my wife and I went out to dinner and were seated next to Bobby McFerrin. The endless stream of hums, clicks, and weird noises you might make while driving alone was broken only by the Ken and Barbie (host?) families’ insistence that their Wonder bread son was musically gifted.
We ate in a silence that persisted until the next day.
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