Goosebumps

A stolen sense of gratification fills a wondering heart when even the simplest of pleasures arouses the mind. The pleasure at hand, witnessing the making of an album 2 1/2 years before its public release. Not only was the album eagerly anticipated by the chosen few who understand the true intentions of music, but the album in question doubles as a historic time capsule documenting the bitter closing to the best rock ‘n’ roll band I’ve ever seen. My first hand opportunity to witness such musical greatness almost didn’t happen. Throughout the journey I almost lost the chance to acquire a ticket, and more importantly (depending on the day in which you find me) I almost lost one of my best friends.
INT. SAN DIEGO PARKING LOT – NIGHT
GREASE sits silently inside a parked car. JDOT and GDUB stand outside; ready to slit each other’s throats.

(An excerpt from a play I’m writing. I’m calling it, Eliminating the Friendship: The GDub & JDot Story.)

So many places to begin, my mind races. Vegas, no. Roadtrip from hell, no. Witnessing the final show of Rocket from the Crypt, YES! Grease, thank God for Grease (thank God for Dub too, but at another time). Grease, in an email (because Grease doesn’t like to talk on the phone) informed me that Rocket would be breaking up, and that they would be playing a final show to a hometown crowd in San Diego. A few weeks pryor to this Grease, GDub and I were half-ass planning a mash-up in Vegas. Apparently they’d saved up some vacation time and were looking to head out West (the direction of change, the biggest direction of all).

The more Grease and I thought about it, the more we began to realize the extreme importance of witnessing Rocket’s final show. A suggestion to attend became an obsession. As the big Rocket Red X on the calendar began to become a reality, I got an email from Grease. “These tickets are going for over $400 on Ebay! Check it out. I’m thinking about selling them.” As one’s sarcasm isn’t immediately realized through an email, I thought my chance at seeing music history was going to crash before it left the ground.

As it turned out, this Rocket was from the Crypt. And this Crypt wasn’t about to start the show without the YIFTM crew.

So Grease didn’t sell the tickets, and on Halloween 2005, the last day of a very memorable (for a lot of different reasons) Vegas trip, Grease, GDub and I boarded the Lude and plotted our course for Planet San Diego.

(Fast forward past irreparable drama and severe friendship growing pains.)

We were early in arriving at the Westin Horton Plaza Hotel. GDub picked up a hat for his brother, and a few other gifts while we walked around the neighboring shopping plaza that surrounded the hotel. Once inside, we began to judge and comment on the various patrons and their Halloween costumes.

A few hours later the shit went down. We watched a brief “In Memory” video, then Rocket took the stage. Speedo, in all his Screamin Jay Hawkins glory took the mic, and along with the band gave all who attended a night they’d never forget.

(Fast forward past almost passing out, going out to pay $3 for bottled water, and stepping back to take it all in.)

Rocket from the Crypt finished their last song, and after a few final snap shots, GDub, Grease and I got back into the Lude and headed to the Los Angeles International Airport. (On a side note, on Halloween 2005, I drove from Las Vegas to San Diego, from San Diego to Los Angeles, and from Los Angeles to Ventura, CA. In total, 521 miles.)

Fast forward to Friday February 29, 2008. I’m rolling out of Amoeba with a CD copy of Rocket from the Crypt’s final show. As I head back to work in a guilty frenzy of nervous mischievousness, I slap in the disc and make my way through Hollywood traffic. Before Speedo mutters his first words, I downshift, then picture Speedo dressed as Screamin Jay Hawkins and standing before a screaming crowd. “Let’s start from the beginning.” And as the guitar riff bounces from window to window and upside my head, I get a cold shiver running from my feet to the tips of my hair. As I grin a slick and devious smile, I look down at my arms…goosebumps.