Monday, November 20, 2006

My Zappa Story



Some time during my high school years, I became aware of Frank Zappa and The Mothers (of Invention). I figure it might have been in 1974 or so. A classmate of mine, let's call him Tiny, was also a fan and therein formed an outlaw music appreciation bond.

Tiny and I both graduated in the Summer of 1976 and ended up going to different colleges. We kept in touch, though. While I started slogging away at an electronics degree at a community college in the boonies, my pal went to a state university in the heart of the big city. He became a DJ on the college radio station, and this became the catalyst for today's tale...

Right around October Tiny rang me up with some exciting news; he was going to interview Frank Zappa for his radio station! Even more exciting news: he wanted me to help him out with this project!!

Well, there was no way I was ever going to meet any of The Beatles, but here was FRANK ZAPPA being delivered to me on a silver platter! Never mind that we're a couple of clueless eighteen year olds with no idea about how to conduct a proper interview. I mean, FRANK ZAPPA!!! You know, as in "FRANK ZAPPA!!!!"

We decided to get together and hammer out some interview questions. Armed with a legal pad and ball point pen we scribbled out the most idiotic, fan-boy queries imaginable. (My big contribution was, "What kind of equipment do you use?" AWESOME!) I also lent my buddy a Zappa bootleg I had ("Metal Man Has Hornet's Wings") for "research purposes."

I arranged with a local media studies program to borrow a nice portable stereo cassette recorder, a couple Electrovoice microphones and desk stands for the big day.


As the big day approached we found out that a fellow from the college newspaper was also going to interview Frank, as well. The good news is, we would get to him first!

For no good reason that I can remember, my buddy decided that I should use his 35mm camera to take photos during our interview. (Pictures? For a radio interview? Uh, OK.)

This means that on that day of days I would be schlepping the tape deck, two mikes, two stands and now a camera! But, I mean, this is FRANK ZAPPA, right? No problem, man!


It was a windy, slate-gray Friday in November when we were scheduled to interview Frank. This was a good thing, as Monday through Thursday were real ball-busters for this freshman (8:00am - 9:45pm) and I had Friday afternoons "off."

I got home from class, loaded up the tape deck, mikes and stands and drove our family's swank 1972 Vega over to my pal's house at 3:00. He came bounding out of the front door with his camera, our legal pad full of inane questions and the Zappa bootleg I had previously lent him.

Giddy as a pair of eighteen-year-old, we drove to the Buffalo Holiday Inn. We pulled in to the parking lot and, laden with av equipment, marched up to the front desk to keep our 3:30 appointment with destiny.

"Oh, yes, Mr. Zappa is expecting you," I'd like to imagine we were told. "He is in room 1313. Go right on up!"

We took the elevator to the top floor, walked down the hall and knocked on the door.

A very big, line-backer-slash-hardened-criminal kinda guy answered the door.


"Yo' here for da innerview? C'mon in."

Yes, there in that Holiday Inn rock-star suite was the one, the only Frank Zappa! (Did I mention this was FRANK ZAPPA?!?!? He even a had a complimentary fruit basket and everything! "This," I thought to myself, "is big-time show-biz!")


Frank and my buddy set themselves down on a couple of chairs on either end of a coffee table whilst I set up the tape deck. Their backs were to a big, plate glass window that over-looked the Buffalo River in the background.

As I set the levels, "Smothers" (the scarey bodyguard-guy) asked which ocean that was outside. My pal explained that it was a river that ran between Lakes Erie and Ontario.

"You're all set, " I announced. "Blab all you want to!"

"Let's BLAB!" said Frank in a playful, cheesy DJ voice.

With that, my pal started peppering FZ with the inane questions we had assembled:

Did you ever finish 'Uncle Meat?' Not Yet.

Was it really gonna be four hours long? No. That was a stupid bit of journalism that somebody put in the Rolling Stone.

What was it about? I'll finish it one day and then you'll see.

While all this was going on, I was snapping pictures of the two. I had to be careful to not meter off the picture window, otherwise we'd just end up with two silhouettes against a background of the river.

"What kind of equipment do you use?" (AH! "my" question!) A Gibson SG with a built-in bi-polar pre-amp and a Vox Superbeatle packed with fiberglas.

It dawns on me that we're bungling this assignment. My pal's interview style was to simply read the idiotic questions we'd prepared and then then say, "Yeah, great!" after each answer. No follow-up, no conversational quality. We made James Lipton look like... like.. well, somebody other than James Lipton.

The interview ground to it's end and we thanked Frank for his time. At this point, my pal finally ad-libbed a question! Spotting a record jacket on the floor, he asked, "Oh, is this the new album?"

"Yeah, take a look," said Frank as he handed him the "ZOOT ALURES" LP.

"Hmmm. 'Black Napkins' eh?" My pal mused. "That's an old song isn't it?"

"No," replied Frank. "That's brand-new on this album."

(Here's the point where things really "jumped the shark!")


Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!

Now Frank is VERY interested in these two eigtheen-year-old idiots!



"Do you have this album with you?" Frank asked.

"Yeah! It's down in the car!" crowed my buddy. "Craig, why don't you run down and get it for us?"

WTF? Number one, it's my album. Number two, since when am I your errand boy? But, you know, this is FRANK ZAPPA!!!! So, I high-tailed it down to the parking lot, snatched the LP out of the car and double-timed it back to the rock star suite.

"Ah, here it is, Frank!" buddy-boy announced. "Craig, give the record album to Mr. Zappa." (I added that last part to make my "friend" sound extra high-handed. Nice touch, don't you think?)

Frank held the album with both hands and glared at it with his beady, black eyes. Clouds of what looked like dry ice vapor seemed to be coming out of his ears.

"Mistah Zappa wanna buy that record from you," Smothers rasped in my ear.

"That's a really great album, Frank!" my clueless, yet status-seeking friend remarked.

"How much ya want for it?" Zappa monotoned.

"Uh, well, it cost me eight dollars..." I stammered.

"How about a couple tickets and some backstage passes to the show?" buddy-boy piped up.

(Hey, goof-ball! We already have tickets to the show and about the last thing I wanna do is draw this out! Oh, and P.S. - it's not yours to barter with in the first place!)

"Done!" replies Frank. "Now, where did you get this record?"

As Frank's stink-eye bored a hole into my very being a flood of thoughts burst forth. I had gotten the LP at a local record store that previous Summer. I didn't want to rat out may pals at "Play It Again Sam!" What to do? What to do?

"Uh, I bought it through the mail," I squeaked. Good, good.

"From whom?" cross-examined counsellor Zappa.

"Um, well, it was from an ad in the back of Rolling Stone!" Ah - quick thinking on my part! This was back in the days when bootleg dealers would run classified ads for "Rare Records" in the back of RS. This would take the heat off my friends and put it squarely on the doorstep of folks who were nutty enough to ply their wares in a national publication.

But wait! I'm not off the hook yet!

"Bring me a copy of that Rolling Stone to the show tonight," replied Frank.

"Oh, no problem, man!" my buddy replied.


In a daze, I gathered up the av equipment whilst Tiny hammered out the backstage pass details with Smothers. The deal done, we made our goodbyes with FRANK ZAPPA. I was ladened with so much junk all I could do was gamely hold out a mike stand for Frank to shake as we left. He got a slight chuckle out of this.

As we left, the college newspaper scribe, Alan Millman, arrived.

[NOTE: I will say this - Frank was very cordial to us during this whole ordeal. He very easily could've cut us short and thrown us out five minutes into the alleged "interview" yet he didn't. He certainly could've raised holy hell with us over the whole bootleg fiasco, but he didn't. (Mind you he would later go on to release those "Beat The Boot" box sets through Rhino Records to do just that!) I have the overall impression that he actually liked his fans! This is a man who remembered what it was like to have spent $5 of his birthday money on a long distance telephone call to his musical idol, Edgar Verese.]

We drove back to the suburbs with my pal chuckling about what a smooth operator he was and what a great deal he made with his buddy's bootleg LP.

Now all I had to do was buy a copy of Rolling Stone, pick up my associate and head down to MEMORIAL AUDITORIUM for the show.


Initially, my brother, Scott, and I were going to the ZAPPA concert together. Thanks to my buddy's motor-mouth, I now had to blow off Scott, so I could go backstage with that copy of Rolling Stone. I gave my brother the extra ticket and he called some friend of his to share in the windfall.

I ran over to a local newsstand and grabbed that month's issue of RS. Then it was back home to get Scott and his lucky friend. The three of us breezed over to Tiny's house to pick him up and away we went, to the Auditorium.

Scott and his pal (I wonder who it was, my memory fails me here) went in the front, being as they were ticket holders. Tiny and I went around to a back entrance. Lo and behold! Our names were at the gate along with not two, but two pairs of tickets and passes! Huh - as if a couple dweebs like us would've had dates!

With our backstage passes proudly stuck on our coats, we marched to the band room like a couple of kings.

Yep, there was Smothers, all right!

"Yo' got the magazine?" he asked in his best Scoring-An-Eightball voice.

"Here it is," I replied. "The ads you're looking for are in the back section under 'Music Classifieds.' Right... here!"

"OK, boys. Thanks. Enjoy the show." And with that Smotheres exited my life forever. WHEW!

Turning around I noticed Frank and the band tuning up, chatting and generally milling about. We gave Frank one last wave and, fighting the urge to grab something off the food service table, went up front for the show.

It was a great concert, all right! And thanks to the passes, we could hang around right in front of the stage. I guess the day didn't end that badly after all.

But then...


Well, "the big day" had passed and it was time to get down to business.

Tiny, who had a darkroom in his parents' basement, developed the film I had shot during the interview. (My favorite picture was one of Frank eating an apple from the complimentary ftruit basket. I kept a print of it for years, but I don't remember seeing it lately.)

I, meanwhile, set about assembling a half-hour radio show. I transferred the interview to 1/4" reel-to-reel tape and then made a hand-written transcript. I did my best to edit the Q & A into coherent chunks that I then interspered with blasts of Zappa music, It was a real work out for my splicing blocking, let me tell you!

(At this point in our already overly-long story, I will condense some things to paper over some holes in my memory and to expedite the denoument.)

On broadcast day, my buddy and I went to the college radio station for his airshift. We got there early enough for him to suggest we hang out at the student center.

"Yeah, sure," thought I. "Why not?"

Once there, Tiny ran over to some goofy, coin-operated contraption that had a couple of college-types hunkering over it. Well, we were at a college...

Excited, Tiny asks, "Ever play foosball?" (Hey, remember this is 1976, people!)

"No," I replied. "Looks like fun!"

"Oh, it's a blast!" buddy-boy says as he puts a quarter on the table, next to the coin slot. Apparently this is done to signify that the quarter-placer wishes to play the winner of the current round.

Game over, my "friend" then commenced playing foosball for the next 45 minutes, while I stood around watching him. Oh, joy. Let me tell you, there's nothing better than standing around a student union watching someone else play foosball.

Tiny's air shift was just about to start, so he reluctantly broke himself away from his winning streak and we scooted over to the student radio station. Once in the broadcast booth, we threaded up the tape and when the string of PSAs ended, we hit the play button.

The tape played, the splices held and I'm sure the college students who were listening in, all eight of them, enjoyed it. At least I'd like to think so.

Tiny took the mike, introduced his first album cut and started up turntable #1. The first track of the new Sparks album blared forth and he cut off the mike.

"I gotta run out for a minute," Tiny said while cuing up turntable #2. "I'll be back." And with that he ran out of the broadcast booth to Lord knows where. The bathroom? Back to that damned foosball table?

Minutes passed and I noticed that the Sparks song was about to end. Now I'm starting to worry. Where's the DJ? Hell, I don't even go to this school! What to do? What to do?

As the tune faded out, I sprang into action. I cross-faded to turntable #2 and hit the button. Ah, a seemless transition to Blue Oyster Cult. Just like a professional radio engineer!

"KA-RAAAAAAAIG!" I heard a bengal tiger roaring my name out in the hall.

"Such fury!" I thought. Except that was no bengal tiger. It was my good buddy who had suddenly remembered he had wandered away from the booth during his air shift.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOOOING?!?!" he screamed. "I was gonna feature that Sparks album in its ENTIRETY and you've gone and ruined it!!! KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF THE BROADCAST EQUIPMENT!!!!"

Having delivered his tirade, he turned on his heel and ran back out of the room.

Well, screw this!

First, I do all the heavy lifting recording and photographing this friggin' interview. Then my ass-wipe buddy gets me in hot water with one of my heroes by crowing about and ultimately giving away my ZAPPA bootleg. Then I spend a week editing together his stoopid radio special only to be ignored while Mr. Superstar-Student-DJ plays foosball. And now this clod is YELLING AT ME because I tried to help him out?!?!?

"Fuggit! And Fug him!" thought I.

I walked out of the broadcast booth, out of the student union and into the parking lot. Firing up the engine of my parents' 1972 Vega, I drove home.

"But what about the photos?" you might well ask.

Well they figure in the concluding chapter...


A week or so after the radio station incident, the new issue of FOXTROT, Buff State's college music newspaper, came out. I would typically pick up my copy at the "Play It Again Sam" record store that was down the street from the college.

Grabbing the issue from the rack, I eagerly flipped through to find the Alan Millman Zappa interview.

Aha! There it is! Ringed with really dark, newprint-y, half-toned versions of the photos I snapped!

More "aha!": There's the photo credit!

And even more "aha!": The credit reads, "Photographs by Tiny Baloney." (Saw that one coming, didn't you?)

I stood there open-mouthed.

My one moment of glory was snatched away by my good buddy. To say I went into a teen-aged funk would not be an understatement.

Of course I shared my agony with my (actual) other friend, Bill. He related that Tiny had told him that he purposely grabbed the photo credit to somehow teach me a lesson for "being such an asshole" at the radio station the other week. "Yeah, he just disappeared, man!"

Oh, what a bitter world! I licked my wounds through my final exams and the attendant holiday season ramp-up.

Dawn broke on Christmas Day, 1976. At that time, my family was still pretty much intact, with my older sister even living at home between semesters. Presents were unwrapped, breakfast was eaten and wrapping paper was baled up.

Then the phone rang.

"Craig," my mother called. "It's for you."


"Uh, Merry Christmas," came the reply on the other end of the line. It was Tiny.

"Uh, look, I'm sorry about that photo credit. I turned it in with both our names on it and they ended up just using mine," he explained.

"Oh," I replied. "Well, Merry Christmas. See ya in 1977."

Well, if that isn't a Christmass-y feel-good ending, I don't know what is. Two inarticulate teen-aged boys not quite communicating with each other on the telephone.

Tiny and I worked on some other projects after this. One project was a band called "The Atones" during the Summer of 1979. And just to bring things full circle, the only cover tune we performed was "Trouble Coming Every Day" from The Mothers' "Freakout" album.

"God bless us. God bless us, everyone," said Tiny Tiny. (Cue the Christmas music...)


Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

I tried to put the instructions on how to do the read more trick in here but the comments will not let you post html code. It is very simple and I would be happy to tell you. Is there a way I can e-mail or IM it to you? If you post a way to get in touch on my blog comments I will delete it right away.

November 20, 2006 5:45 PM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

Let me try it this way and see if it works. Here is how you do the reads more trick: Compose your blog as you always do, when you are finished figure out where you want to cut the entry off. Go into edit html by clicking on the tab and type < and then the word span and then hit the space bar once and type class="fullpost" and then > under the last paragraph you want to be seen on your main page. (please note the space between span and class is the only space all else is together) At the end of the entry type < and then / the word span and > (no spaces between any of those) and that should do the trick.

November 20, 2006 8:00 PM  
Blogger Craig D said...

Wow, thanks so much!

I know it is difficult to post HTML code and tags, because the page wasnts to treat them as , well, code and tags! This will help me greatly once I'm able to get my Zappa story ready to go.

(Noticed I said coming "next" and not coming "soon!")

November 21, 2006 8:55 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Just wanted to stop by and say Happy Thanksgiving!

And, end the war in Iraq before Christmas!


November 21, 2006 8:29 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Have you seen my wife around anywhere? I can't seem to locate her.

I've looked every place I can think of...

November 27, 2006 4:14 PM  
Blogger Craig D said...

Have you tried looking in the solarium in the west wing? Just a suggestion...

November 27, 2006 5:07 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh, I'm going to be wearing panties on line tomorrow,yo can count on it.

And I will be hot!

November 28, 2006 12:35 PM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

More to come? Did the read more code I tried to give you not work? Whatever the case, I can't wait to read the rest of the story. I had heard of Zappa but never really got to know his work until college. I had a friend who was a rabbid Zappa fan. He even kind of looked like Zappa.

November 28, 2006 2:49 PM  
Blogger Craig D said...

It doesn't seem to be working for me. Is this a "beta" feature, I wonder?

I'll be adding to this story as I am able. Thanks for trying to help. I dunno, it must be me...

November 28, 2006 3:33 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Thanks for your help.

See how easy it is to share goodwill!

Oh, you are going to be featured in my post for tomorrow.

I hope you don't mind?

Especially if groups of peasants show up outside the walls of yer blog with torches and pitchforks...


November 28, 2006 11:18 PM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

I'm not on beta so it should work.

*looks at previous comment*

I can't think of a way to put it any better other than typing it out. Sorry. :-(

November 29, 2006 12:23 AM  
Blogger Mone said...

Zappa was such a sexy guy!
I would have interwieved him my way...

November 29, 2006 2:32 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm sorry, did you say something?

You'll probably be running over to the wizard's blog and posting a comment on her poop article today...

Now you've made everyone hate me...

I'm cutting off your Crystal Light connection!

November 29, 2006 11:28 AM  
Blogger Craig D said...


November 29, 2006 11:34 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


I hope you noticed that there was no invitation for you to last night's award gala.

Ha, who is beautiful now?

Highlights have been posted on my blog.

November 30, 2006 2:43 AM  
Blogger Craig D said...

Well, as it turned out, NEITHER of us were there. Thank goodness for friends like meander, eh?

I'd say, "neener-neener-neener" but I don't want to appear to be a big booger-head spoil-sport about it.

Now, where's that thong gotten to..?

November 30, 2006 8:47 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hey, where was my love today?

I missed seeing your face in my comments...

How could I not forgive, the nameless one?


November 30, 2006 7:57 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


December 01, 2006 2:15 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

So did you meet him?? And did he tell you about his evil twin, Dirk?

December 01, 2006 8:21 AM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

I am a moron. Next time you ask me something about computers make sure I clear the answer through my boyfriend (who actually works with the damn things and understands them) first. The trick I gave you did not work because you have to put code in your template for it to do so. Duh!

Go to or simply type in "read more" on the Blogger Help Search to get the instructions from someone who actually has a clue.

I am so sorry. This time it should work though.

December 01, 2006 5:25 PM  
Blogger Craig D said...

Ah, my "public!" I'm still around - just haven't had much access to the interweb super-thruway of information in the last 48 hours.

whimsical, I'll look into that help section when I can get more quality computer time. Thanks for pointing me in the right direction.

ww - Sorry it's taking me s-o-o-o long to get this story out. Again, it has to do with time & access. Yes, I did meet FZ and as you'll see things took a weird turn. Backstage passes, a copy of Rolling Stone and a certain amount of betrayal figure into the saga.

Dirk, Dirk, Dirk! You can look forward to more piles of love coming your way. How can I deny you anything?

December 01, 2006 7:28 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Careful or I'll make you my blog bitch...

Sexy thang you...

December 02, 2006 3:50 PM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

Just keep stringing me along why don't you! More please.

December 04, 2006 7:52 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

And then? And THEN?? AND THEN???

December 04, 2006 9:09 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh, you are such a little blog tease!

You post hussie!

December 05, 2006 2:44 AM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

Dirk is right you are a tease! Can't wait for the next small tidbit you see fit to give us. ;-)

BTW, your comments are never trivial and are always appreciated. It's always nice to know that there is someone out there who can realate. And liquid smoke is one of the dumbest culinary inventions ever.

I put you in my links. I hope you don't mind that I didn't ask you first. I am so rude! Been meaning to do it for a while and finally got around to it.

December 05, 2006 4:14 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Is this some kind of Arabian nights thing?

Or maybe a boogie nights thing?

So,you've been a music pirate all your life?

December 05, 2006 7:24 PM  
Blogger Craig D said...

All questions will be answered in due course, I assure you!

You know, I've been delinquent in adding some of you fine folks to my link section. I'll try to do so in the next couple of days.

December 05, 2006 9:03 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Want to see some “real” flower power?

December 06, 2006 12:56 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

A liar and a music piate...


You're not helping your image here.

What kind of example is this for the children?


December 06, 2006 2:35 PM  
Blogger Craig D said...

My only hope is that "the children" will learn from my poor life choices.

And it is, after all, all about "the children!"

For members pledging at the $75 level we have this attractive "who-really-cares-anyway" tote.

December 06, 2006 3:20 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Did you see you earned a link on my blog?

Merry Christmas!

December 06, 2006 7:05 PM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

You lied to Frank Zappa!

*shakes head in disappointment*

December 06, 2006 8:20 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Lovin' the story! Ah, the escapades of youth... BTW, I grew up practically next-door to Buffalo.

December 07, 2006 1:43 PM  
Blogger Craig D said...

Oh, yeah? Where was that? Batavia? LeRoy? Rochester? Niagara Falls?

Niagara Falls!!!

S-l-o-o-o-w-l-y I turn..

December 07, 2006 2:33 PM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

You just keep me hanging on don't you?

*sighs and waits patiently for more*

December 07, 2006 3:54 PM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

Oh yeah I forgot, I may be giving you grief here but I gave you some props in my blog today.

December 07, 2006 4:19 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Rah-chesta... Actually, a village just east of there.

December 07, 2006 5:43 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Fantastic story, cannot wait for the next chapter... reminds me of when I interviewed Steve Garvey as a high school newspaper writer (I was the highschooler, he played baseball) but despite my prep and practice I couldn't manage much more than "...uh, um... yer great, um...."

December 07, 2006 10:47 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ha! Your evil machinations have not succeeded and I still live!

Ihope Frank scarred you for life...

I am no russian spy that you can rid the blogosphere of so easily as you decieve Frank Zappa.

Good morning!

I am feeling so much better!

December 08, 2006 11:40 AM  
Blogger Craig D said...

Damn! I should have looked at the half-life expiration date on those radioactive tacos before I just threw them into my cart. You win this round, Skeletor!

Errr... I mean, glad you're feeling better. Yeah. You're looking hale and hardy! Laurel, too.

Um... Well... I gotta go, now...

P.S. Welcome to my blog, jk! Thanks for chiming in.

December 08, 2006 2:14 PM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

You just have to leave me hanging don't you? Don't you!

Seriously, this is a cool story and I can't wait to see what happens next.

December 08, 2006 3:03 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

The way you are parcelling this out is... well... a lot of fun! Have we REALLY seen the last of Smothers? Will the bootleg copy come back to bite him? And will their new-found coolness go to their heads? Tune in tomorrow for the further adventures of Chuck and his friends!

December 09, 2006 8:40 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Surely the great Zappa was not fooled by the RS diversion? Is he still stalking you, lo these many years, searching for the scumbags who dared to boot his leg? Haunting you day and night, waiting for the inevitable slip that will expose his quarry? I await developments ...

Friend of that Dirk guy, surfing around annoying his other friends today. It's an interesting ride!

December 09, 2006 4:21 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


December 09, 2006 5:59 PM  
Blogger Craig D said...

Thanks for dropping by, skeet!

As far as I know, Frank's no longer stalking me. At least not in this life!

Just a warning to those who have been following this long, dragged-out anecdote:

The part of the story dealing with meeting dead rock stars and their scarey "assistants" is now officially over.

The part about your's truly getting fairly well shafted is about to begin. Yep, I'm sure at least one faithful reader will enjoy reading about how teen-aged Craig was denied his moment in the spotlight. I'm going to be in high whine mode, folks! But that's what blogs are for, right?

Look for the big, hollow Christmas Day finale! "Take me back, Clarence!"

December 09, 2006 11:21 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Boy, that Dirk sure is everywhere, isn't he?

Mopping up the aisles of 7-11, appearing on the cover of a vinyl record, lotering with college dudes...

You have a cool site. And I envy you for meeting Zappa. The closest thing I got close to a rockstar was when I got pulled out of the stage by Eddie Vedder's bodyguards. Keep it up!

December 10, 2006 2:44 PM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

Your friend is an ass, but then you knew that. Still more to the story?
Good! I'm enjoying it a lot, thanks for sharing it with us.

December 10, 2006 4:07 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...



December 10, 2006 5:40 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Sigh, let me guess; when you developed the pictures you saw Frank in his true alien form. He is really from alpha centari seven and eats small children for breakfast?

Is there no reputation you will not attempt to destroy.

December 11, 2006 1:46 AM  
Blogger Craig D said...

Obscure? You know, I was just discussing this very thing with with Mr. DeGlopper at the Huki-La last week...

(Folks, let's give it up for my brother, Scott!)

December 11, 2006 8:18 AM  
Blogger Craig D said...

Folks - Sorry for the delay in concluding this over-long anecdote. Maybe by the weekend?

Oh, and blogger is acting very snippy as far as letting me leave comments on other folks' blogs right now. It seems to be a comment moderation thing? If I know blogger, this, too, shall pass.

Later, my cyber-pals...

December 13, 2006 7:53 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Just checking...

December 14, 2006 2:35 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

What a lovely wade through the muck of Memory Lane... and to think that we never wanted to grow "old"!!!

I wonder where Tiny is now, and did he ever learn what being a friend really means?

And I wonder if your parents' Vega got rust holes in the tops of its front fenders (like mine did) after 18 months of Buffalo/Rochester weather.

I'm getting all nostalgic!

December 14, 2006 12:26 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

What, no Ninjas?

No car chase?

Nobody kissed the girl...

What kind of a story is this?

Man, I had such high hopes.

December 14, 2006 5:16 PM  
Blogger Craig D said...

wizened one: Whatever happened to my pal? Hmmm... I wonder? As I mentioned, we did continue to work on different projects together. (I went with him to do photographs of Dexter Gordon, for instance.) This is mostly a story of teen-age bone-headedness on my part.

Dirk: Well there was mention of a 1972 Vega and a foosball-master. That's kinda like car chases and Ninjas... (in a way I haven't yet figured out!)

My thanks and/or apologies to those blog-buddies who suffered through this whole long tale. I'll try to keep my future posts shorter...

December 14, 2006 10:21 PM  
Blogger whimsical brainpan said...

Yeah, I saw the picture credit thing comming. I think I said it before but I'll repeat myself, your friend Tiny is an ass. Good story, except the part about you getting screwed.

December 14, 2006 10:42 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hello good friend.
I'm taking the wife out to dinner and then to see a show called, "Big River."

I'm out posting hello before I leave...

Have a good evening.

December 15, 2006 2:48 PM  
Blogger Craig D said...

Dirk! Enjoy the show and the time with your wife! Savor these moments when there are only the two of you. Soon there'll be three and there'll be other, different moments to share & remember.

PS: Are there any car chases or ninjas in this "Big River" thingy? I'd hate for you to be disappointed twice in one week...

December 15, 2006 3:28 PM  
Blogger JIM HAYES said...

really enjoyed your FZ story! thanks for writing it up!

December 31, 2006 5:54 PM  
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