2002-10-08 - 2:04 a.m.

That was quite the weekend... I met up with the (ex) at three in the afternoon on a Sunday afternoon--I was an hour late. We briskly headed down to the Middle East, for my old buddy's reception. He's living in Maine right now, and is only in Boston to promote his new book. I actually missed the reading �cause I had to work.

It was good to see him again, although I spent most of the day talking to the (ex). I always clam up around people I don't really know all that well, and I do get annoyingly clingy.

Seeing Joe again (yeah, if I'm gonna link to his book, I may as well use his name), was really cool. Last time he came up to Boston, we met up at the Kendall Cafe to see one of his buddies play some rock n� roll. That was the same night the Diamondbacks beat the Yankees to win the world series, and everyone in the bar was far more interested in the game (myself included, sadly) than the music. It was a delicious feeling, fall just starting to really kick in, in a cozy bar I rarely visit, watching that game, of one mind with all those wacky Sox fans, even if it was kinda pathetic to root for a team to lose.

But this time was just as great. Ever not see someone for so long, that you forget why you liked them so much in the first place? You know, he or she isn�t a person anymore, but rather an ever-eroding series of events. Eh?

Oh, and they�re hype, too. Inflated. Overrated. All the drawbacks swept under the carpet.

Well, I completely forgot why Joe was so loved and revered. I remembered a couple of great times (especially his going away party), and that was it. I remembered how all sorts of different people were so utterly drawn to him, but I couldn�t really recall why. I think I let the post-gone-away hype explain it all--in other words, I kinda figured that people were so drawn to him because of the fondness they hadn�t yet had time to develop, seeing as how he was still in Boston. Eh?

But seeing Joe again really explained it all--it all came back, like when I took Spanish I again my senior year in college.

The guy is pure energy, and, like energy, he can be harnessed but not completely controlled.

He gets a kick out of everyone, and really likes to think about people. He attaches himself to weirdos especially, figures out exactly (to him) what makes them tick, and from there sits back, sublimely entertained, and watches his theories become reality.

His world-view is very fringe, and perfect for him.

He never tows the party line. He always speaks his mind, and isn�t afraid to call someone an idiot to his face. More importantly, when he does, he can explain why, and will end up cracking up the object of his mock scorn.

He can have a conversation about anything, probably because, when he realizes that he can�t discuss something at a level best suited to his linguistic skill, he changes the subject and leaves no room for appeal.

He comes up with names for tons of stuff, that seem so obvious, but that I know I�d never think of on my own. The Boston Phoenix is the Kleenex. I met someone through Joe that was in a band called My Own Worst Enema. I discussed the band at length with that person, not finding out till much later that the band was actually called My Own Worst Enemy.

I�d say that the best thing about Joe is that he doesn�t need to be wound up in order to perform. I mean, I never had a close, intimate relationship with him, so I don�t know if he�s on fire all the time, but I do know that you can stick him in the middle of any gathering of people, and within 15 minutes, he will have spoken with everyone. 20 minutes, and he�ll be using his discretion to steer the topic.

I mean, he dominates, but in a good way. He can think of something to say whenever he deems it necessary, and he loves to talk, and he has an uncanny knack for never steering the conversation sour.

He loves to talk, �cause I think that he�s just as absorbed with what he�s going to say next as we are.

And he doesn�t let folks get away with being jackasses. Say I try to tell a five minute long story--cut off. Or I say anything boring, or off topic--cut off. Inebriated rant--cut off. Not tolerated.

Which is how it should be, in my opinion, at least sometimes. He forces people to shut the hell up if they can�t contribute. And if you do have something to say, you�d better yell it.

If Joe was editing this diatribe, he�d edit the fuck out of it, that�s for fuckin� sure.

So the crowd eventually thinned at the reception, and the (ex), Joe, two of his buddies, and myself, all headed down to his hotel room for �action.�

Beer, bake, baseball, and a stunning view of Allston/Brighton. We played one of the best games ever. It�s a mental exercise, kinda.

Compare two bands, not on personal taste, but in terms of which one is more important.

I�ve actually used the same concept as a game before, like the whole college basketball Sweet 16 format, but the concept of debating the importance of bands, well--that�s all Joe.

Stoned, half-drunk, at friggin� five in the afternoon, all I could do was think of really tough matchups.

Pavement vs. Sebadoh? Sebadoh.

Lou Reed vs. John Cale? Reed.

My Bloody Valentine vs. Azalia Snail? My Bloody Valentine.

Flaming Lips vs. Built to Spill? Oooh. Tough. I�d pick the Flaming Lips.

Television vs. Captain Beefheart? Dude. I don�t even wanna go there. But if I had to choose, I�d go with Television.

I never pitted the Soft Boys or Robyn Hitchcock against any non-Robyn related bands, �cause I didn�t want them to lose.

That�s another great Joe thing--he gives me a hard time �cause I listen to sissy bands. What can I say? I hate Rock n� Roll.

But how often do you get to spend a few hours with the man that is Rock n� Roll?