In junior high, I was exposed to a band called MARILLION. Jeff had a copy of FUGAZI and his brother was showing it to me. He had told me there was a passage where the guy is singing about a fuck and I hadn’t heard that word much in music at that point. Maybe a “what the fuck, man” in the background of a VAN HALEN song,.. or WHO “the fuck are you”…, but never so casually. “was it just a fuck, was it just a fuck, just another fuck,..” The lyrics were clear and poignant and I remember that moment to this day. I have spent many hours of my life listening to MARILLION. It is not a stretch to say that they shaped me. The lyricist goes by the name FISH. I began jotting down ideas on “to-go tickets” at work while I was washing dishes… going home and emptying my pockets of the paper pieces… and putting on my headphones living out teenage disaffection. The words of FISH were in heavy rotation in my thought patterns. I listened to a lot of music during that time and it has all affected me and my artistic style. FISH affected me as a writer. I indirectly was introduced to KEROUAC through FISH… these are the two that inspired me to take my words seriously… in the way that I take things seriously. Tuesday night, FISH had a show in L.A. He was going to hang out with fans before the show at a bar down the street. Tracy and I parked the car on the street and decided to walk up to look at some clothes. Towards me is walking FISH with a couple of guys. I smile and give a little salute and he nods. We walk back down to the bar and run into my drummer’s wife and I walk out on the back patio. FISH is having a Guiness and talking to some guy. I stand there for a few minutes and he wraps up signing some things. He looks over at me and I tell him that he’s been a major inspiration and I hand him a couple of my CDs. He’s looking over them and tells me he likes the MUZZLELOADER title THE NOT SO SECRET LIES OF BOBBY SCORPIO… I tell him OOLYAKOO is a tribute to Jack… he’s wearing a shirt with Jack and Neil on it… I’m wearing a gorilla in a marijuana field… He starts talking about his rhythm guitarist not getting his visa in enough time and is missing tonight’s show. I tell him I’m looking forward to the show and to knock ‘em dead. He shakes my hand and Tracy and I go to get cash and coffee. After a while we come back by the bar and sit to talk with the drummer’s wife and her friend for a bit. They offer to take my picture with him and I tell them I don’t really do that kind of thing… I like to hand artwork to people in the industry, but I don’t like to ask them for anything… I feel like it puts them above me and I believe we are all on the same level… we decide to leave and I completely change my mind. I think I was nervous. I’m not used to feeling like a fan. I’ve met a lot of famous people, but I was never really a fan… I said I was… “big fan, big fan”… I’ve told a lot of people that, but it was never really true… and here I am, feeling like a fan. Some other people are taking pictures with him and after a minute I change my mind again… but they won’t let me… “Look, man, can I bother you again… do you mind if I get a picture?” “That’s what I’m here for…” after a sip of tequila and he towers over me with his arm over my shoulder… like Neil and Jack. He shakes my hand again and I tell him to have a great show… I haven’t seen the pictures yet… I hope I don’t look like a dork… I felt like a dork… but I finally met my mentor… (picture courtesy of Shawn Philips)