Further Remembrances

Well, OK, I’m very upset about this whole Bill Staines thing. which really has not occurred. Some of you (or, to be precise, probably about two of you) may remember from last week that I had hoped to interview Bill sometime prior to his appearance at the First Encounter in Eastham this Saturday; you may recall me mentioning that he was an old friend, who I remembered as a great guy, and whom I hadn’t seen in years, and how I was looking forward to getting re-acquainted and all.

Well, he hasn’t answered any of my phone calls, so I emailed, and he also hasn’t answered any of my emails, and I’m starting to think he’s avoiding me. There’s always the chance that he may remember me less fondly than I do him, if he’s even the guy I’m thinking of in the first place. I think he is, though. I wonder if I did something awful I’ve forgotten about back then, maybe he hates my guts or something. I don’t know! I’m irritated, and I’ve been drinking.

Now I am finding (and eating) every single nut in the house. I’m finding that the drinking is not enough (although it’s fine as far as it goes -I’m not complaining, don’t get me wrong) and so I’ve also assembled an eating disorder. Pass anything.

It’s just, he seemed like such a nice guy, eight billion thousand years ago (assuming it was him.) I thought we were getting along great, and here it turns out he hates my guts.

I hear he’s a really good folksinger. Actually, I remember him being quite good, back in the old days -or, at least, I remember someone being quite good. To tell the truth, when I really think about what I was into thirty years ago, I mean... it could’ve been almost anyone. And besides, this guy just won’t call me back, which I think pretty much proves he remembers me! It must be the same guy!

I can’t believe he doesn’t like me anymore. I’m almost positive I wouldn’t have done anything all that horrible. Maybe he’s just stuck up, because of being so famous and all and the fast life and the groupies and what-not. Who needs him, anyway? What a jerk.

If you see him this Saturday, don’t say anything about me- I just don’t think I’m ready yet. Still, go, check out his show; in fact, what the hell, let’s let bygones be bygones and make him the pick of the week -the Kelp Pick of the Week, yeah, that sounds good. I give this show my highest recommendation, because I think I almost kind of pretty much remember this guy, and, if it’s the guy I think it is, he actually wasn’t very objectionable and kind of knew what he was doing (if I remember correctly.)

I just don’t know why he hasn’t called. God, I hope he’s OK! Karie Miller (the guiding light of the First Encounter coffeehouse and also my neighbor, and let me tell you that’s not always a bed of roses) said at one point that she thought Bill might not be a big computer person, might not be keeping up real good with his email, etc., and that makes sense. Maybe that means he doesn’t have a cell phone, either. I mean, he’s a folksinger, for god’s sake; he probably rides a bike and smokes clove cigarettes. Why would he have a phone?

I’m sure he still likes me. Actually, if you do see him this Saturday, just tell him Thurston says hi. No, tell him I was going to stop by, but my chauffeur had the night off, but that I still remember him fondly. No, “warmly.” No, just say “Thurston asked after you” and “he was warm.” Wait, do you think that sounds too needy?

The nuts are gone now, and I’m all by myself. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve gone too far; if, in my rush to be accepted and admired, I’ve forgotten all that was decent and fine about myself, and instead plunged into a maelstrom of despair and decay. Sure hope not!

Next week: my special weekend with Bradford Dillman. Ta!

Bill Staines Profile, Probably

Hi! It’s me again. Again with very little exciting news, as expected.

I saw a picture of a box last week. It was pretty.

My aunt had a boat.

See, in the journalism business, you’ve got to be open-minded, because you never know where your next hot lead is coming from. It could be something that sounds totally stupid at first, and then, voila! -it morphs into something that’s almost better than nothing! Well, sometimes it does; not always. (That’s why it’s called, “journalism!”)

Lobsters are stupid. When was the last time a lobster hosted a symposium? -hell of a long time ago.

See, I’m hoping eventually I’ll say something that’ll somehow lead to some other thing, and then that’ll lead to something else; and then in no time the page will be full of words and the column will be done!

Good world series so far, huh?

I certainly like young, good-looking women! Let’s think of one together... I know, Jayne Mansfield!

That reminds me, I have I a very old friend named Bill Staines who’s performing at the First Encounter Coffeehouse in Eastham this weekend, probably on either Friday or Saturday. Unless it’s next weekend, in which case it’s still Friday or Saturday. Or Sunday, maybe. I think it’s this weekend. Pretty soon anyway.

I knew Bill briefly about thirty years ago, and he was a hell of a guy, and put on a swell folksinging show; and I’ll bet he still does, if it’s the same guy.

He’s put out a bunch of records over the years; unfortunately, I haven’t heard them, which is a pity, under the circumstances. I’l bet they’re pretty good, though. Normally, I’d try to get one, somehow, but I called, and he’s away. Alaska, actually, this week. So.

By the way, I just tuned into the Netscape News, and it said “Is Adam Sandler a genius?”, and I’d just like to, as soon as possible, go right on record with the answer, “no.” That guy Paul Michael Thomas Bobby or whatever his name is, the director (he’s got like twelve all-american first names), the one that did “Magnolia” and “Boogie Nights” (both of which I worship; ok, I’ll look it up dammitIhateyou; OK, it’s Paul Thomas Anderson, you happy?)(At least I was close), is possibly a genius of some kind; basically, if he can even get me to consider paying money to go out and see a movie starring Adam Sandler, he is either a genius or a spectacularly sneaky, evil wizard.

Anyway, his new movie “Punch Drunk Love” just came out, to rapturous reviews, and I know they’re probably right, but, damn -Adam Sandler? You mean, literally everyone else was busy? If this movie makes me like Adam Sandler, then, well, I don’t know; I’m just not all that comfortable with it. Do I have to?

If DVDs were really cool they’d have versions of movies where you could substitute actors. I admit it, I’m apprehensive. If Mr. Bobby can put this one over, then he truly is a genius.

I guess I could look up when Bill’s playing, too. What the hell, though, I don’t even know it it’s the same guy or not. This is stupid.

OK, fine, I looked it up, he’s not playing until next week anyway, on Saturday, November 9th; so never mind.

He might not be any good anyway -like I said, I’m not sure if it’s the same guy I think it is -but If you go, tell him ‘hey” for me, unless it turns out not to be him. Then feel free to kind of give him the cold shoulder.