Brushes With Greatness

I met Cory Doctorow, who was holding court at Bruce Sterling’s house in Austin, TX for the SXSW 2007 Interactive after-party. I invited him to go bowling with me and a bunch of my friends when he was in the DC area, but he’s never taken me up on it.

I met Bruce Sterling at the same con, chatting pleasantries about the weather with some guy on the balcony outside of Bruce Sterling’s annual SXSW closing speech, ends up being him as I realize when I go in to take my seat.

I met Heather Champ and Derek Powazek at that same party at Sterling’s house, but I somehow managed to offend them, and Heather refused to reply to my emails after that. Heather did introduce me to Evan Williams before she ditched me, but I don’t think I made any sort of impression on him at all.

And I went to the School of Visual Arts with Annie Sprinkle, a porn star from the late 70’s and early 80’s. I don’t think anyone else from my classes there ever achieved any level of fame higher than she did.

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ok, i gotta hear more details about this. there has to be more…

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I thought it was a euphemism and was afraid to ask…

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I, apparently, went to High School with Amanda Palmer. I don’t recall knowing her- I think she was two years ahead of me?

I did know Pete Holmes (the comedian) in High School- I didn’t realize he’d made it in Hollywood or whatever, but when I saw him do some jokes, I realized 1) I know that guy and 2) those are the same sort of jokes he was making in High School.

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So you’re from Lexington MA?

I’m really sorry.

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I’m really not sure how to take that.

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I’m joking, mostly.

I was research staff at MIT-LL for a few years, so I know Lexington fairly well. It seems like the kind of place where people go to raise kids in a perfect little bubble, and the kids can’t wait to escape. To me, it seems sterile, and kinda NIMBY. The kind of place that makes Waltham look exciting by comparison. I would have hated to grow up in a place like that, but maybe you liked it.

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@Franko
@ChuckV
@Melizmatic

Well there’s not much to tell really.

He was kind of an enthusiastic nerd who taught math, a class on model airplane and rocket building, and coached baseball or softball or something. He looked quite a bit like Roy Orbison. In his teens he dropped out of highschool and joined the army to get away from his alcoholic parents and somehwere along way developed a passion for light aircraft and skydiving.

He must have been a leading member of some Seattle-area skydiving association, because on the afternoon November 24, 1971 (I looked the date up on Wikipedia) police came to his door. They told him they needed four (I looked up that number on Wikipedia too) parachutes in a hurry. They didn’t say why.

And that’s about it. I would have heard this story in the late 80s. Old D. B. Cooper is a bit of a folk hero in the Pacific Norhwest at the time, almost like Sasquatch.


(Not my math teacher)

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it’s really more about the impression he leaves on you, IMO.

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That’s some /r/oldschoolcool shit there.

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I could go on. He also had a Three Stooges golf poster on his wall.

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My life has been quiet, I think. I was a competitive curler in my youth, so I knew some of the bigger names in the sport in Quebec (often curled against them), I have met some of the top curlers in Ottawa. My brother still curls, and has played against Rachel Homan (Canadian junior champion, Canadian and world women’s champion) in club games.

(Interesting note for @Wanderfound: the President and several times national champion of the Australian Curling Federation, Hugh Milliken, is from Ottawa, the Rideau Curling Club to be precise. Interesting note for the rest: yes, there is an Australian Curling Federation, and Oz used to get into the World Curling Championships from the Pacific region regularly until curling in Japan and China started taking off.)

The world of curling makes some strange connections: Bruce Cockburn’s mum used to curl for mine.

Otherwise, most of my connections were musical: I’ve been acquainted with Brian Greenway of April Wine for some 45 years. I met him through a mutual friend, Ted Quinlan, who is currently head of the guitar department at Humber College. Ted himself is one of those unsung types: he has played as a sideman for Freddie Baker, Chet Baker, Eddie Harris, Jimmy Smith, and Joey DeFrancesco, and was the guitarist on the album by Mike Downes that won the Juno for jazz album last year. I gather he’s visiting NYC at the moment, taking in the clubs and sitting in on a few sessions. I used to have the occasional brew and shoot the shit at Dag’s (aka Brasserie du Village) in Pointe-Claire with Gilles Schetagne, ex-Maneige, in the '80s. The English-speaking world won’t recognise the band, but they were well-known and well-regarded in la Francophonie. I knew Karen Young of “Karen Young and Michel Donato” fame (well, fame in Montreal, at any rate) in the mid-'70s.

In the late '70s, I had the opportunity to chat with the late Luther Allison between sets at the Horseshoe Tavern in Toronto. Throughout the '70s, I ran across Bob Segarini in both Montreal and Hamilton. Bob was originally with the bands Roxy and the Wackers in LA, and came up to Montreal when the latter band moved as whole up here. On the breakup of the Wackers, he formed the Dudes with the Henman brothers, who had been with the original lineup of April Wine, and Brian Greenway, who went on to join April Wine (and is working with Myles Goodwyn still). He moved to Toronto to pursue a solo career sometime after I moved to Hamilton, and I haven’t seen him since I moved back to Montreal in 1980, although we still have mutual friends. Current Torontonians might recognise him as the Iceman on the radio - he has deejayed for CHUM-FM, Q107 and Sirius.

In the '80s, I met the other great jazz pianist from Little Burgundy, Oliver Jones, at Biddle’s in Montreal. (The great jazz pianist from Little Burgundy that everyone knows is Oscar Peterson. Oliver, I believe, studied piano with Oscar’s sister, Daisy.) It was rather amusing: a group of friends and I had headed down to Chinatown for dinner and clubbing, and we ended up at Biddles. As it happened, we had three piano tuners in our group, one of whom, also named Oliver, was Jones’s tuner. We had Jones, Charlie Biddles (the bassist and club owner) and Bernie Primeau (the drummer) joining our table between sets all night.

In Ottawa during the early '90s, I met Alanis Morisette and the parents of Angela Hewitt on the same night out for dinner at the Royal Ottawa Golf Course, where I was occasionally a guest. I saw Jean Chretien there, but can’t say that I met him. During that period, I used to run across Pierre Elliot Trudeau’s old Agriculture Minister, Eugene Whelan, frequently around downtown Ottawa (just the kind of nodding acquaintance you have with people you see on the street regularly).

On the classical side, I count composers Jay Anthony Gach (NYC) and Bernard Hughes (London) as longtime long distance acquaintances, also the harpsichordist Andrew Appel from the Hudson Valley area (same name as the computer sciences guy, not the same person). I have chatted occasionally with harpsichordists Ketil Haugsland and Skip Sempé. I met the late Swedish composer Bengt Hambraeus, who was member of the Swedish Academy and recipient of the King’s medal there, but spent most of his career in Montreal. Here in Ottawa, I am acquainted with Steven Gellman, who studied under Olivier Messiaen.

This brings up a case where I wish I had the chutzpah to introduce myself: back in the early '70s, I had season tickets to the Société de la Musique Contemporaine du Québec, and took in a concert of Messiaen’s work with his wife Yvonne Loriod on the Ondes Martenot. Guess who was in the audience not that far away? Another case was here about 10 years ago: there was a symposium on Schoenberg at Christ Church Cathedral, and his American kids, Nuria, Ronald and Lawrence, were in the audience. It would have been fascinating to chat with them, especially Nuria, who had married Luigi Nono.

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I wish it was that Evan Williams. I might have had more fun at that party. I was talking about the Evan Williams who, at the time, was on the verge of spinning off his new company to make Twitter.

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Meet Ian stewart to talk to at a series of lectures new scientist were doing.
And I’m fairly sure I almost walked right into Martin Rees once.

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naturally, I forgot a bunch.
My crew DJed Lenny’s every Tuesday. When Lenny’s changed locations, they hired this big dude as a bouncer–the nicest guy, though. After a few years, KRS ONE emceed a show there. Great show. Afterwards, the club was still on to dance and drink but KRS was hustling out the side exit ASAP. I was nearby just watching, I wasn’t tied into the crew who did the promoting that he was rapidly saying goodbyes to. KRS was almost out the door when the bouncer saw me and his eyes lit up and he waved me thru the barrier so I could shake hands with KRS. You could tell he wasn’t really tryna meet me so I kept it short. He smiled but kept it moving. It was so unexpected, I was pretty goony anyway.

The restaurant I worked downtown was in the lobby of a skyscraper where Hot107.9fm was also. I windexed the glass door daily and one day saw DJ Red Alert (founded Native Tongues, Produced Fugees’ The Score, etc) exiting. Said “Nice to finally meet you.” His mind was elsewhere but he looked up and sort of nodded. He was looking more like Grey Alert by then.

Two Redman stories: He played the 2nd stage of Lollapalooza ‘95, caught it in Raleigh NC. There was one of those barriers between crowd and stage with security in it. Redman kept trying to stagedive but the guards would block him. Near the end, he milled to the back of the stage near the DJ, but it was a ruse; he did it to get a running start so he could jump over the guards’ arms. He dove directly on to me. Just me. but the guards grabbed his legs, so Redman interlaced his fingers with mine and death gripped them until he was finally pulled off.

Years later, Red and Meth actually came to Knoxville because they were opening for Limp Bizkit. Since they played UT’s basketball arena and we were in college radio, we got passes and then left after their set (which was completely bonkers.) The biggest local club contracted them to make an appearance, too. So we went and like a lot of kids were milling in the room they would come thru off the tour bus. It was funny because this was a white club, and tonight was full of kids from the county outskirts who came to town for wack-assed Limp Bizkit. So the tour bus unloads and like 15 black guys from the entourage come through the room; the look of confusion was priceless. None of these kids knew what Redman or Method Man actually looked like, they were just thinking they’d rush the two black guys. Meth came in like number 17 and then Red a few people after that, so I followed them out to the main floor. Unsurprisingly, Meth got recognized pretty soon and started fielding a small crowd, so I kept moving. Red was off in a corner being completely ignored. As I made my way toward him I said his lyric from “Time 4 Sum Action”: “Who’s the Redman, where’s the Redman?!” and he looked up as I approached. He seemed cagey, not sure what to make of me. “Yo, y’all ripped it tonight,” I said. He looked at me sideways and was like “who are you?” He was (duh) really high. I was like “I was at the show, it was real dope!” His whole demeanor melted and Redman fucking full on hugs me. Not like the hip-hop, lean-in-and-back-pat; a real heart-to-heart hug. except I’m 6’3" and Red is probably like 5’1" in shoes, so he’s like around my waist. Then he just looks up at me, almost like a child, and very simply says “thanks.”
It was totally bizarre. I was sort of dumbstruck and then he wandered off.

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Used to go see Rockin’ Dopsie and the Zydeco Twisters at The Maple Leaf every Thursday ($5 cover).

One night got up the courage to talk to Dopsie during a break in the show. He is the coolest ever.

World’s best cover of Come Together which DEFINITELY needed a wah wah peddle AND an accordion AND a rub board.

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When I wrote my little bit about my junior high math teacher, I didn’t include his name. I remembered it, but I didn’t include it, because I wanted to let the past be the past. If you know what I mean.

But then, today I was reading the Wikipedia article on D. B. Cooper and guess what happened? I found his name. Yes, there was his name, right at the end.

So, there we go. Reality always forces its way in.

Here’s to you, Mr. Cossey, or “Coz” as you were soemtimes called. I’ve forgotten most teachers in Junior high, but not you.

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(Once again, no not Mr. Cossey, but a very close facsimile.)

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wow, curiouser and curiouser! (as the saying goes)

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This story is everything…

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