A little nothing secret: I'm not rubes - when he's not out riding, that guy has hidden under the covers for years, and then I get these messages to please send his internet posts along.
So, I do it.
Now he's gone.
rubes, hey, if you're out there somewhere, you do know there will be like a jubilation to hear of your demise, ha ha.
You did have a reasonable medium bad run.
That's still a run.
I hope he reads this.
Kinda doubtful, honestly.
rubes of the falling leaves.
When we would hang out together, way back in the day, we would go to a lot of baseball games, 49ers games, too, and go see bands like Butthole Surfers, Sister Double Happiness, Nirvana and Gun Club. Early rap. Los Lobos, too. We both admitted to seeing double from drinking when we saw Tom Waits at the old Warfield. We saw Four Non Blondes so many times. It was just a few of us that would even go to Four Non Blondes. We moshers/pogo-ers would see each other on the street, wearing the t-shirts, smile at each other and understand. Linda Perry spotted carrying a guitar in the Church Street Station, the usual, all three of us going somewhere. It was the only time I felt like I was in a special insider-like deal. It really wasn't, but rubes brought me there, and you just can't replace some memories. I just couldn't believe it when Four Non Blondes totally blew up and went worldwide. I tried to talk to rubes about it, but he would never say anything. I still listen to them. Same as The Beatles to me.
We even went to that 1989 earthquake World Series game together at The Stick. We easily smoked out in the stands, not thinking twice about it. Doable now, vaping or whatever. But after then in the 90ies, it became dangerous to pull that type of stunt off. We're both kinda past all that, now, I hope, I really don't know.
The Stick's roof wobbled. Everyone stood up and cheered very loudly. We made it home via the magnificent MUNI. For free. Our power was back on by like 11:30 pm, and then we had to watch Dan Rather unshaved and super concerned for like three days. Velez came by that night; we all were checking ourselves, and needing to be with friends.
David Keith Stewart.
fIREHOSE was supposed to play that earthquake night, too, but they never quite made it up to town. rubes, in true character, even after the earthquake, was wondering if the show was still on.
fIREHOSE used to come around every two months and play for 5 bucks. We could afford that, with our sandwich store jobs, and they always got our 5 bucks.
Good ol' fIREHOSE.
Those early Critical Masses. I think those wonderful times and experiences kinda got him going.
As far as I know, he is still a big Lance Armstrong guy.
I really don't get that.
But he has his explanations.
Once he even made me sit in barf. Ozzy Osbourne concert at the so-called Cow Palace. We were lucky to get any seats, even way up.
So, we did sit in barf together a long time ago.
There was even one Butthole Surfers matinee show in the early afternoon; the building is gone now, an old masonic hall turned half-gay bar called the I-Beam. rubes was/is (?) not gay, but he did get some free drinks out of the deal, back when he was younger and better looking. Even back then, by the time we got back to our pad, he was always talking about Duke Ellington, Prince, Bikini Kill and Charles Mingus. I tried, but never really got onboard. Following rubes, I did like Sleater-Kinney, and always tried to get off at that exit even though it was two exits further down from my dad's house up North.
He would just go on and on about Prince. Prince Rogers Nelson. He always called him by his full name. I got away from these type of conversations eventually when he 'explained' to me that Metallica really was a nothing, but somehow Megadeth and then this unknown Argentinian band called "La Renga" were really what it was all about. For years, he got on me about never listening to La Renga's record "Detonador de Suenos." I still haven't heard it, but he swore by it.
He would bring up Liberace, totally serious, and he was so infrequently serious. I would just have to leave the room kinda fast.
Telling stories about taking suits and ties to see Daniel Johnston...I was there, too - Johnston was not the guy in the movie, not at all. He had the audience at The Bottom of the Hill eating out of his hand in like 5 seconds.
The best I remember was us way earlier going to the York Theater to see Steel Pole Bathtub and then the epic Tragic Mulatto.
Flatula Lee Roth.
Lacking money, we probably snuck in. rubes sure never made the guest list anywhere. Not me, either.
The old York is likely a dollar store or something worse now, next to a bunch of $5k a month newfangled studio apartments, down on 24th street.
But he's gone.
I hope he gets back to me, but I doubt it.
Weirdly, he did ask me to sign him off with a nice Jerry Trebotic song he somehow found on Youtube. The grandpa guy in the video who passes for a guitarist apparently changed/corrected Roger's theology within the lyrics. Not sure about all that.
rubes is gone.
But I had to laugh at his high-minded idea request of posting a Jerry Trebotic video on the way out. Why not Charlie Parker? Why not Wayne Cochran? You're not high-minded at all, rubes. You're just EFN super high.
I feel I am matching him with this Jerry Reed video, but when the line goes silent, there's no way to really know.
"Please keep riding those bikes, everyone" - rubes.