Oh shit! You found me?! ?! Fine, I’ll talk, but just for a few minutes. Then I have to go cut down some more trees with my teeth before the sun comes up. The cops are on to me and I gotta score my next gig before my family starves.
See, I’ve been hiding out in a beaver dam outside of my rough and tumble home town, Cleveland, for the past six weeks. Dude, it’s freakin’ hard to make a living when all you’ve got is a guitar and an indie label contract! Fuck! I’m just trying to make ends meet. But I’d say I’m doing pretty well, all things considered. When I think of my triumphs, I kind of think of that killer Dicksie Chicks song about how they overcame such adversity and managed to get people to like them again after talking smack about that diablo, George Busch.
I’m not ready to make nice,
I’m not ready to back down,
I’m still mad as hell
And I don’t have time
To go round and round and round
It’s too late to make it right
I probably wouldn’t if I could
Cause I’m mad as hell
Can’t bring myself to do what it is
You think I should
In the photo below, you can probably see why there are some real strong parallels between the Chicks and my own situation.
If you’re as sharp as me (not to brag, but I negotiated a killer deal with my indie label all by myself. And I’m currently working on an endorsement deal with the most independent of all snack food producers, Frito Lay), you probably noticed that I’ve had my front teeth surgically enlarged to enable me to cut through tough lumber.
Anyway, some fans wonder why I wear hooded sweatshirts so often. Even underneath sportcoats (like I’m wearing right now). Dude! I freakin’ grew up in the hood! That’s a literary device called symbolism. I never EVER leave the fuckin’ street man. Born and raised, brah. So when you see me in that hood, that’s because I’m true. (Imagine how badly Id kick Tango’s ass in the season finale of I Love New York if I were on that show, and you’ll see what I mean.)
Shit. Here they come. I gotta run, the cops are coming, damnit. See you all at my next gig, if I make it ’till then. To paraphrase my homey DJ Quick, the Cleveland suburbs…are just like Compton! Compton! http://www.ohhla.com/anonymous/dj_quik/wy2fonky/jus_lyke.djq.txt
Ah, thanks for the explanation. I always thought you wore the hoodies because you’re so sensitive that sometimes you just need that extra layer to hide from the cruel world, especially the extra-cruel world of the streets.
Hey, Rob, what are you up to now? I hope you aren’t getting hurt by the subprime mortgage fallout’s impact on Cleveland and its suburbs–I was reading about this in the Wall Street Journal last week.