While thinking about doing my own little “Man Of The Street” Q&A’s with random people, I’ve been thinking about who I’d like to interview or have a conversation with that are now dead. You know, just random shit, shoot the breeze.
In my life, I’ve known a lot of people who have come and gone. A few really good friends who have now passed on and who I wouldn’t mind getting caught up with. Three good buddies that I’ve lost are Justin Roberson - a great surfer, and who I had the best times with in Hawaii. Parker Mitchell, another friend and ex-Hell’s Angels, and Chris Williams who was in the band Mutilage with me. Man, good memories with those guys. Miss ‘em all. The talks we’d have now; I wonder how much they would have changed or not changed had they still been alive today. What would be going on in their lives now? Would we still be friends now? I’m hoping that would be yes.
As far as entertainers go, it’d be pretty cool to hit up a conversation with Jimi Hendrix. My parents Herbie and Dibi were in a movie with him back in the day. Maybe you’ve seen it: “Rainbow Bridge”. That was before my time. I’d ask him about his surf music. Heavy guitar. What happened to the surf music and why was it never going to be heard? Did Dick Dale have something to do with it?
And I wouldn’t just want to have tender, civilized talks with these guys. I’d want to chat with random gnarly people like, how about Merlin the fucking Magician? That’d be pretty cool. Don’t know if I’d actually chat with him or just fucking stare and watch him do some crazy shit with his magic and wand. Fuck Harry Potter. Merlin’s the shit. I’d ask him to turn some people I dislike into trolls, maggots and someone’s constant dried-out prison bitch.
What about having lunch or dinner with Vlad the Impaler? You know, the real Count Dracula. This guy was fucking insane. No mercy. Evil son of a bitch. I can picture myself having some eggs benedict at his place while he drank a champagne glass full of blood…you know, out there on the veranda, cold dreary day in Transylvania with the stench of his victims everywhere, their decapitated heads all lined up, surrounding the fort, and blocking what would have been a beautiful view of the natural landscape. Maybe he’d ask me about surfing and doing judo airs, and I’d ask him just what the fuck was wrong with him to do and think the way he does. Fucking nutball.
If I were still into drugs and got strung-out, I think it’d be pretty cool to hang out with Sid Vicious from the Sex Pistols. But being sober now and seeing as how that lifestyle is a thing of the past for me, maybe it wouldn’t appeal to me as much. I don’t know. I guess I don’t have to be high to talk shit with Sid.
Those are just some people off the top of my head that I’d like to interview and talk with. Dead people, that is. What about you guys? Who would you like to meet and ask questions to?
And, oh yeah, I guess I wouldn’t mind meeting Marilyn Monroe, too. Obviously, I’d ask her if she knew who killed her. Then I’d ask her if her carpet really matched her drapes.
