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DON'T
TRY THIS AT HOME;

The
Diary speaks back
As
I was sitting here watching for the last glimps of daylight dissolve
into the York night (about 11:45 pm...it's very north up here),
and was thinking about music and how it affects us all so differently.
I suppose what sent me thinking was that I stayed up late last night
and read/answered every single e-mail I'd gotten since the tour
started. I always try to answer as many as possible but they begin
to pile up a bit when I go for a day or two without a computer (next
purchase; LAPTOP). But I really like it so don't let that deter
you if you want to say hi or comment on something or anything you
might want to say. Some people simply ask me to get a message to
Arthur, although I'm not a messenger! But I do my best. Some people
even vent a little anger, and that's ok as well. It seams we're
all a network of music lovers and there is a passion that true fans
of an artist have that goes beyond words. I was fortunate enough
to see many, many people who were in "heaven" just to
hear Arthur's voice again and to know that, instead of being in
some prison cell in California, he was in their hometown, in their
country, in their lives for an hour and a half. Thank you for having
us, every city that welcomed LOVE with Arthur Lee.
I know
that feeling of hearing something for the first time and not believing
how well it connects with your soul, your head, your everything.
Many LOVE fans describe Arthur's music that way. When I was a teen,
I had a friend named Elisha Lewerke. I would go over her house and
listen to records. We were just friends and her mom was even cool
about me spending the night a few times. Those were the times we'd
stay up listening to records. One day she asked me, "Have you
ever heard The Ramones?" I told her,"No", and she
proceeded to play me that entire first record. I think it took about
15 min. I said, "That was unbelievable, play side two!"
But she told me that WAS side two that had just finished so I asked
her to play the whole record again for me and we listened to it
about 10 times. Now, I was in a state of shock because I'd never
heard anything like that.
Now,
jump to 1998. I am on tour in the support band (MIchael Shelley)
for Shonen Knife and playing at the Bowery ballroom in NY City.
Marky Ramone comes up to me and says, in the thickest new york accent
imaginable, "Wear da gurls at?" Huh? You mean Shonen Knife?
They're out eating. They play at 10:30. By the way (I say), I really
like your version of LOVE'S 7 & 7 is. Arthur even told me.."
Waid-duh-mennit...you play wid Awthuh Lee? yeah, you tellz him we
gonna bust him da fuck outta dare." And that was the extent
of my conversation with Marky Ramone. I couldn't even tell him how
much their music touched me...he wouldn't have understood, you know?
I've been in that situation before a few times...you sort of meet
your heroes but you just go stiff (not THAT kinda stiff) and it
seams difficult to say anything meaningful. A 7 years ago, I was
in a Sushi bar in brentwood (my fave, HANA Shushi!), and non other
than Tony Curtis was standing right next to me waitng for a table.
My girlfriend at the time, Melissa, knew he was my favorite actor
and she knew I knew every line to SWEET SMELL OF SUCCESS and told
me to say hi , but I turned to him and I couldn't remember a thing!
Dammit all! Well, about 2 years ago I met his daughter, Jamie lee,
and I told her the story and she told me I should have just been
myself and told him I enjoy his work. Sounds so easy, huh?
So,
I suppose, the things in life that really touch you, and the people
that really touch you, can stay with you for a lifetime, if you're
lucky. What I've learned is, being a fanatic doesn't really help
the fan or the famous person. Being yourself and treating people
they way you think people ought to be treated is the ticket. I think
about songs that Arthur wrote like "Between Clark and Hilldale"
and the vibe of that place in the mid 60's; it must have been something.
I drive by the whiskey maybe, 3 or 4 times a week and I pass by
Clark street and Hilldale street and I can't help but think it could
use it's king back. Their place is as plastic as Ann Nicol-Smith's
tits, and twice as lonely. The Roxy and the whiskey used to swing.
But the Sunset Strip is now just a shadow of it's former self. I
can not see the real fans anymore. But maybe, just maybe, if the
Whiskey gets it's act together, we may one day again see Arthur
Lee's name on the Marquee between clark and hilldale.
Mike Randle
mike@lovewitharthurlee.com

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DIARIES
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