So I opened my email this morning to discover a shout-out from IFC...for PUNK MONTH!!! Oh yeah, if anyone needed punkin' up today, it's me! Check out tomorrow night's lineup...(and turn down the sound, 'cause Johnny Rotten is LOUD). Will I be there? Bet yer ass! Okay, granted, I caught the whole 'punk' thing at the end, I was a faux-college-punk in the Midwest, which basically translates to "I tore my shirts and wore shit-kicker boots and smashed record albums to turn into interesting earrings." Oh, and I saw the Clash, and bought 'Never Mind the Bullocks...' and the New York Dolls and blah blah blah. And I still have lust in my heart for that rawness, that sexiness, those leather pants and chains. Mmm-hmmm. Yeah, skinny boy, growl for me! Smash that beer bottle over your head...bleed for me...c'mon....
Oh. Sorry. Just caught up in it.
What's got me jonesin' this morning is seeing and hearing Uncle Henry on the site. Oh man, I do dig this cat. He's not everyone's cuppa acid, I agree, but he's honest and gritty and doesn't take any shit. I actually MET Henry Rollins years ago, when Sergei and I were engaged, at a book signing in Ann Arbor. Well, a CD signing, it was for 'Get in the Van'. We stood in line for, what, hours?, waiting to meet him. And then it was our turn. One at a time. Henry, this powerful, take-no-prisoners guy, with his gutteral grit and fantastic tattoos, was just...just...this guy, about my height, with a little grey hair, and a powerful handshake, and the most innocent, shy smile. And he smelled good. We exchanged pleasantries as he worked his Sharpie magic, and I asked him something stupid and inane like, "Would you sing at my wedding?" He blushed and stammered a bit and said, "Well, I don't really play those venues anymore. But thanks for asking!" Which I just thought was adorable and I wanted to hug him, but I think his bodyguards would have cold-cocked me.
I saw him several times on his spoken word tours. Man, that guy can talk...rant...challenge. And even though I thought he went...wheeee!...right out the window sometimes, I sure appreciated that he revealed that much of himself. I own several of his books (his publishing company is 2.13.61), and most of his spoken word on CD, and a few videos of the same. And now he's hosting 'Henry's Film Corner' on IFC, and I am drawn to it like the little moth that I am. I'm getting my Uncle Henry fix. And I'm a happy girl. (Okay, I hear ya askin'..."Uncle Henry"? It fits.)
Well, this post is nothing like it should have been, I have a post-it in front of me with stream-of-consciousness blog ideas I wrote at 1 a.m. this morning. And the word 'boobies' is on it. I may get back to that later.
Oh, and to the fine people of London, England: I will be back there someday and drink your milky tea and eat your crusty rolls and walk your shiny streets and ride your sparkling tubes and be entertained and enlightened and charmed by you. Be well, y'all.