fossgoss

Jokes can be lethal.

I washed some prawns down last night with a few pino gris' and got chatting about all manner of stuff with a few old pals, and Sam asked me if I have ever killed anyone. It reminded of this night that happend a few years ago, when, in fact, I did kill somebody.

I had been asked by a Lower Hutt Business group to come and speak for an hour about advertising, branding and stuff - really to motivate them to spend some bucks on behalf of a media client of mine. It was a pitch in disguise really. Shallow stuff.

Anyway, to break the presentation midway, I told the mandatory joke - I had decided on the Statten Island Ferry Stowaway joke, which is a long yarn really, that builds to a classic punch line.

Anyway, I'm into it and delivering it pretty well (by my low standrads) and this guy, about 50 something, in the front row, starts chuckling about a minute before the punch line. I figure he has already heard this joke and knows what's coming - but that was cool as his chuckling became quite infectious, which was great.

But then his laughing turned into more of a groan, and I'm thinking - great, this guy is loving it; I'm working the crowd here!

Then he sort of tried to get up and groaned really loudly and then fell on the floor in a heap.

Mmmm. Heart attack. Bugger. I hadn't even finished the joke.

There is a flurry of concerned activity and general shock pervading the room now and the Ambo's got there inside 10 minjutes.

By this time, sadly, the chap was dead.

After they took the body away, I got back up and announced that it would be imprudent to continue the presentation and people either drifted away or joined small groups for a drink and quiet chat. Some were definitely in shock.

But - get this - at least 5 people quietly approached me and asked me to finish the joke.

Which I did. But of course, it wasn't funny any more. One of the greatest jokes in history killed a guy.

It was sad, but there is a funny side to it I guess. And it's always a good story to draw on, when somebody, out of the blue, asks me if I have ever killed anyone.

Ok first up, I once had this little lump thing on the inside of my right thumb, about the size of a match head; had been there for ages, never thought anything of it.

Secondly, I'm in a part time band, we play retro, a lot of Pink Floyd, early Zep and stuff - for fun, not money. Fundraisers usually, for PTA's.

Anyway, the family of a friend of a friend asked us to play Stairway to Heaven at a memorial service for a young guy who had died overseas. Stairway is a pain really - as it is such an overplayed song, plus if you don't do it note perfect, you look like a dick. Anyway, me and the other guitarist opted to do a 2 guitar semi accoustic arrangement, with Michelle the keyboardist doing flute and angel choir chords on the keys. We also used a trained female opera singer to do the vocals. It was a cool arangement and very in keeping with the church setting - we also all dressed in white tops and black bottoms for a bit of a look.

So, it comes off really well - and about 3 minutes in - I can see looks of awe and surprise, not just from the pews but also from the other players and I figure, crikey we are nailing this, really really well, this crowd is blown away - and on we go until I look down at my fretboard to set my fingers up up for the guitar solo. And that's when I saw it.

Blood.

Heaps and heaps of blood - still splattering all over my guitar and all over my white shirt. It looked like a massacre!

(Yep, when my bottom g string severed that little lump off - man, did it ever bleed).

Had no option but to play on and get to the end and the blood still flowed - but the atmosphere was a bit... awkward. At the end I decided a few words would be prudent, just to ensure everyone knew it wasn't a bad taste gimmick and then this lovely old woman about 60 came up with a hanky and took me to the bathroom out the back. So it was cool in the end, kind of, with a bit of strained laughter about how the deceased would appreciate it blah blah. And at the drinks later it did become a good conversation starter. From memory, I think I may have scored with some Goth chicky who had a thing for blood.

But yes, spraying blood in a church did have a certain satanic flavour to it for sure!

Labels: stairway to heaven

It would be impossible to live a life without any regrets. But boy, did I ever blow it back in the day. I had the Best Job In The World, and I blew it. I was living in Australia at the time and landed a job hosting a weekly 90 minute radio feature which was syndicated to music stations throughout Oz. Every week a producer arranged for me to host a lunch with a mega-star; not just musicians/bands but movie stars, sporting legends etc - whoever happended to be in town that week. Usually I just got a table at the Parkroyal, did lunch, drank wine and kept a microphone/nagra running to record the entire conversation. Other times, like with John Mayall, he just wanted to drink vodka in a dark hotel room and chat all afternnon, which was cool. Then I'd just go to a studio, edit the conversation and break it up with appropriate music selections. What a break for a young guy huh? Hang out with famous people and throw together 90 minutes' of radio and that was it. It didn't pay excessively, but I did get to contra some of the commercial time - which meant I didn't have to pay for anything - car, restaurants, clubs, clothes, blah blah, you name it, all free. So anyway, I'm about 6 months into this gig, and being inquisitive by nature, I got seduced by the trappings. Long story short - addiction. Bang, it just sort of crept up and landed me in a clinic for a very different lunch: cold turkey. And, obviously, it cost me that job - the Best Job In The World. As they say, if it doesn't kill you, it makes you stronger. But every now and then it haunts me - what a complete fool I was to destroy such a stunning opportunity.
I sometimes wonder where it might have taken me had I not succumbed. As it happens the next journey turned out pretty good, so maybe, just maybe, things are just meant to be, is all. And I still have some fine memories from meeting some very cool R&F people along the way. And if it hadn't happened I would never have met the wonderful woman who became the centre of my life and mother to our two wonderful children.

:-)