All of the Alice Cooper
I jumped out of the camper this morning excited. Today's the day I'll see a property that I can both afford and could help me pay the mortgage. Long story short, there's already two (very small) houses on it. And a garden space. A few sheds and a creek on seven acres just outside of town.
Landon, the manager of Chantilly Farms, pulls up. He meets the dogs and loves the tiny one. He asks her name. "Alice Cooper!" I tell him. Oh! "I went to theater school in Buffalo; I hung out with Shep Gordon." He was completely shocked I knew exactly who he was talking about. HOLY CRAP. I've wanted to meet that dude forever! They were buds! I'm exactly one degree of separation from Shep Gordon!!!
I'll explain. I'm a person who inspects my hero's heroes. My hero at the time I got Alice Cooper, 14 years ago, was Bill Hicks. He was wildly in love with Alice Cooper. I'm not in love with Alice Cooper's music, but I figured Hicks knows what's what, so instead of naming a girl dog Bill Hicks, I named her Alice Cooper. Besides, she's 4 pounds of heavy metal!
Skipping through netflix one day I came across a show called "Supermensch" -- the story of Shep Gordon. He's this multi millionaire who does unbelievably good things with his money and takes care of lost sheep. He was also Alice Cooper's manager. The story goes, and forgive me, because I've forgotten a lot of the great stuff, that someone in the crowd in the early days of Alice Cooper's career tore the head off a live chicken in the audience. The crowd went nuts; the media blitz that came after established Cooper's career. He still has a career; does a few satellite radio broadcasts and probably lives off the proceeds of some of his most popular songs.
See, this was the very, very beginning of what's now become incredibly gross.... the fact that people can make a career out of being infamous. Had it not been for the unfortunate chicken, who knows where Alice Cooper would be today? We, as a people, might be better off, because now it's so much about artists trying to shock the audience into this kind of notoriety. It's what the whole "real life" shows are all about. The more they stir stuff up, the more they make people angry, the more money they make. It's branched into our politics in a huge way. Anger makes rich people richer. So they thrive on creating it. "No press is bad press," as they say.
It started before that; I mean, nothing is truly new in the world, but that was the moment that Hollywood realized that anger made them lots of dough. And politics follows Hollywood, there's no news in that.
Gosh, I'd love to meet Shep! I'd need to massively study up first, so I knew exactly the stuff I need to know. The kind of stuff you can only learn in person, while sidestepping the questions he probably answers 10 times a day. It takes work, ya know?
I headed for "the farm," where I'll hopefully be living. I said, in the first post or so, that I never wanted to buy crap again for a house. I still don't. Maybe I'll just get some disposable yard sale finds. Because I'll need two beds. Maybe a couch. But hopefully that's it. The people living there now have it filled to the brim with boxes of stuff. I don't want anymore stuff than is absolutely necessary. I've decided the only decorations will be posters I have from shows, a signed Todd Snider poster given to me in a Secret Santa gift exchange. From there, anything else will only be stuff I make from stuff that is either: free, found or given to me. Hopefully. Because I don't want to end up with a bunch of junk again that feels like it has sentimental value. It's such a drag to be stuck with piles of crap. If you see me at a yard sale, Floyd, shake your finger at me! Actually, I don't think it will be a problem again. I used to keep way too much, but after getting rid of it all the last time, I feel like I've learned the best lesson: that it FEELS better to live with just the basics, just the necessities. Just spend the money on experiences, concerts, music festivals. The rest, keep in a secret place and let yourself forget it exists.
Until someone could use a hand. Then, give them a hand, not some money. If all goes well, I'll end up with a few rentals on the property, and eventually one of those will be designated specifically for someone who badly wants to live in Floyd, but can't afford it yet. I'll give a cool person a leg up. Floyd digs cool people. And it's a necessity to give something to the place you love. So it gives you the love back. Also, it's totally what Shep Gordon would do.
Landon, the manager of Chantilly Farms, pulls up. He meets the dogs and loves the tiny one. He asks her name. "Alice Cooper!" I tell him. Oh! "I went to theater school in Buffalo; I hung out with Shep Gordon." He was completely shocked I knew exactly who he was talking about. HOLY CRAP. I've wanted to meet that dude forever! They were buds! I'm exactly one degree of separation from Shep Gordon!!!
I'll explain. I'm a person who inspects my hero's heroes. My hero at the time I got Alice Cooper, 14 years ago, was Bill Hicks. He was wildly in love with Alice Cooper. I'm not in love with Alice Cooper's music, but I figured Hicks knows what's what, so instead of naming a girl dog Bill Hicks, I named her Alice Cooper. Besides, she's 4 pounds of heavy metal!
Skipping through netflix one day I came across a show called "Supermensch" -- the story of Shep Gordon. He's this multi millionaire who does unbelievably good things with his money and takes care of lost sheep. He was also Alice Cooper's manager. The story goes, and forgive me, because I've forgotten a lot of the great stuff, that someone in the crowd in the early days of Alice Cooper's career tore the head off a live chicken in the audience. The crowd went nuts; the media blitz that came after established Cooper's career. He still has a career; does a few satellite radio broadcasts and probably lives off the proceeds of some of his most popular songs.
See, this was the very, very beginning of what's now become incredibly gross.... the fact that people can make a career out of being infamous. Had it not been for the unfortunate chicken, who knows where Alice Cooper would be today? We, as a people, might be better off, because now it's so much about artists trying to shock the audience into this kind of notoriety. It's what the whole "real life" shows are all about. The more they stir stuff up, the more they make people angry, the more money they make. It's branched into our politics in a huge way. Anger makes rich people richer. So they thrive on creating it. "No press is bad press," as they say.
It started before that; I mean, nothing is truly new in the world, but that was the moment that Hollywood realized that anger made them lots of dough. And politics follows Hollywood, there's no news in that.
Gosh, I'd love to meet Shep! I'd need to massively study up first, so I knew exactly the stuff I need to know. The kind of stuff you can only learn in person, while sidestepping the questions he probably answers 10 times a day. It takes work, ya know?
I headed for "the farm," where I'll hopefully be living. I said, in the first post or so, that I never wanted to buy crap again for a house. I still don't. Maybe I'll just get some disposable yard sale finds. Because I'll need two beds. Maybe a couch. But hopefully that's it. The people living there now have it filled to the brim with boxes of stuff. I don't want anymore stuff than is absolutely necessary. I've decided the only decorations will be posters I have from shows, a signed Todd Snider poster given to me in a Secret Santa gift exchange. From there, anything else will only be stuff I make from stuff that is either: free, found or given to me. Hopefully. Because I don't want to end up with a bunch of junk again that feels like it has sentimental value. It's such a drag to be stuck with piles of crap. If you see me at a yard sale, Floyd, shake your finger at me! Actually, I don't think it will be a problem again. I used to keep way too much, but after getting rid of it all the last time, I feel like I've learned the best lesson: that it FEELS better to live with just the basics, just the necessities. Just spend the money on experiences, concerts, music festivals. The rest, keep in a secret place and let yourself forget it exists.
Until someone could use a hand. Then, give them a hand, not some money. If all goes well, I'll end up with a few rentals on the property, and eventually one of those will be designated specifically for someone who badly wants to live in Floyd, but can't afford it yet. I'll give a cool person a leg up. Floyd digs cool people. And it's a necessity to give something to the place you love. So it gives you the love back. Also, it's totally what Shep Gordon would do.
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