First post in quite some time, but that is neither here nor there.
... Unless we're talking about Spot's
CleSoul blog.
Updates at that place are like dentures to the gummy. Mad Dog to the rummy? I don't really know, but I enjoy that blog enough to stalk ... er, follow it for as long as Bob continues the education ride.
You see, I rode on the further most outskirts of Bob/Spot's social circles as a me-teen/young adult; a friends of friends type of deal.
The Normandy Freaks.
Domestic Crisis.
Doc's Shake Shoppe.
Essentially
'All of those kids cooler than I', or some such nonsensical truth.
I mooned over Kristi Huska for far longer than I dare admit, which - of course, tends to obscure all things. But that particular cast of characters
did include many of the elite in the Parma punk scene: Jim Luppuci, Kristi, the Mysterious Mr. Konya... um... and a whole lot more, believe you me.
Oh, how I wanted to be like them. I'd hang around in my room pretending to be amputated, or a talented artist, or a frenzied mop of hair. Yet hiding behind the moron front I presented, the cool never did translate.
But I sure fell down a lot!
"Say it ain't so, Joe. Say it ain't so!"
One of the single most interesting of freaks in that entire scene was Spot.
The infamous Tony Erba was perhaps more gonzo to me; Jim Morgan and Mark Embrogno more directly influential; Corey Barnett more respected, but Spot... Spot was the King.
Just the mere mention of his name and the person opposite would frame a huge smile, chuckle to themselves, then let loose with the most amazing of stories you'd ever be likely to hear. Laughter and/or bafflement never ceased to follow.
Everyone - and I do mean
everyone had a Spot Story they would pass amongst themselves. And not one of them mean-spirited. At least none that I ever heard or first-hand experienced.
I cringe, twitch and generally spaz out when thinking back on the things I've pulled over the years. Some of the funniest and more memorable, however, were inspired by the Spirit of Spot and his guerrilla theater of the absurd.
Twenty years down the road, Bob continues to serve as inspiration and entertainment.
And I'm
still falling down.
Nope. No angst here!
