This is a double edged sword as you will see.
I was diving in an overturned twin engined Otter somewhere in Hawaii in 100+ feet of water. It was an artificial reef, so there was no cool shit like dead people still strapped in. I'd penetrated the hull and was laying on my back watching my bubbles coalesce like a T-1000 in a foundry on what used to be the floor of an airplane and was now the ceiling of a cave. This was not the cool thing.
100+ feet is short duration even with a computer, and since I was rockin' a state of the art high pressure steel tank, I had plenty of time for a leisurely ascent. Vis was infinite so in ascents like this where I was not using a reference frame, what I'd do is hold my computer at eye level like a readout and ascend using regular breathing and bleed the air slowly out of my BCD. I'd do a lazy complete rotation every few minutes to keep an eye on things. There was my buddy and his buddy on the plane. There was the scintillating silver stream of exhalation, rising, expanding, pulsing jellyfish like from the cool blue, and right there it was.
The biggest Manta I'd ever seen. I was in blue water so I didn't have a reference frame, I didn't know whether it was 6 feet away of 60 feet away, but it was not close enough to touch and it was HUGE.
He was gorgeous. I still can see it. He was in perfect shape, I could see his matte black upper and creamy white belly just like in the high quality nature photographs - he was textbook and framed against a pale blue sea.
That was cool. It was the coolest I've ever been an nobody even saw it.
Double edged sword.
I was doing another dive way up North where it's possible to snag big Puget Sound Box crabs just roaming around, and I was goofing around like usual, and I turned around and there was a seal, just hanging out watching me about 2 feet away. He snuck up on me and scared the living shit out of me. I'd spat out my regulator and there was a huge cloud of bubbles around me. I sheepishly looked around and fortunately nobody had seen me. I recovered my regs and spent the rest of the time playing with this little guy. When I got back to the boat, one of my party said "Did that seal scare you?" Everyone though that was real funny.
I like bikes, and my buddy has a real beaut - I'll get a photo and post it. I love riding that thing. I'm real cool
I was on 101, just tooling along enjoying how this thing ate miles and farted them out in a fat raucous hydrocarbon cloud, and two black guys pulled up alongside me. The passenger made a sign with his right hand like twisting the throttle, so I obliged, dropped it down a cog and gave it some stick.
Double Edged Sword.
This thing has Sifton cams, Mikuni carbs, performance headers, straight through pipes, a Screamin Eagle ignition and enough torque to pull Jesus off the cross. When I slacked off the throttle and these guys caught me again we were all grinnin' like idiots. I trolleyed off to the Haight and was posin' alongside this beauty like James dean, smokin' a fag and leanin' against the bike. I decided It was time to fire the bugger up and leave it throbbing on the sidewalk while I nonchalantly put on my Jacket, Gloves and Helment. I'd forgot since where I parked it was on an incline and I'd put it in gear, and instead of pulling in the clutch when I start (Like I always to) but wanting to be like that guy on the Roof of the Systine who languidly reaches out and touches god, pressed "Go".
I caught the fucker, but being dragged down the sidewalk by a 900lb throbbing monster was way uncool.
Which brings me to Bruce.
When I lived in New Jersey, he was a local guy. He was so local that you'd see him all over the place and the cool thing was that nobody bugged him. Just a regular Joe. Bruce would work out when he was getting ready for a tour, and for an old fart like me, he is in good shape. He could punch his weight. He'd work out at my gym. Just a regular low profile guy. He'd talk to people, and those people that knew him would talk to him, but not a lot, he was there to work out. The only time I'd spoken to him prior to my coolness event was when he was bs'ing with someone and had is back to me and I couldn't get past him so I said "Excuse me".
It was cool working out in the same gym as Bruce, and sitting no more than two feet from him while we were both working out. You can bet that while I didn't bug him, I let everyone within earshot know that I was working out with Bruce and that I saw him regularly enough that I'd lost count. I figured that he's a cool guy, he doesn't need people pestering him while hes doing deep lunges.
So one day I'm in the changing rooms and I'm all alone and I'm standing there shaving. The gym I went to had disposable razors by the sink, and they were nicely sanitarily sealed in cellophane. A real bitch to get open with soapy hands, and having faced this problem several times, I found that the hole in the cellophane that could be used to hang these little buggers also fit over the stainless steel nozzle of the soap dispenser.
I thought I was alone, when lo and behold out of a shower walks Bruce in nothing but a bath towel. I nod and he walks over to a basin a few down and I hear him grumbling and complaining while hes' trying to open this razor. I walk over, he sees me, I reach out for the razor and say "Here". I take it, open it just as slick as you please and hand it to him and walk back to my basin.
I AM SOOOOOOOO FUCKING COOL!!!!!!
This did NOT backfire on me (yet) and if you think I'm full of shit, ask Bruce about it. I could see he was impressed, and I'm sure he remembers it - It was in the Atlantic Club in Red Bank, and you usta turn up with your personal trainer in a beat up blue bronco ISTR.
Love your stuff Bruce, I came to the Kick up your Paws benefit at Weinbergs place in that big tent out back with Triumph the insult dog, and you came and jammed with the local guys for about 250 of us. What I liked is that you banged through a couple of new numbers that had not been released, and these local guys were not overawed by playing with you, and were not phased when you stopped and changed keys about 3 times in one song. It looks like you jam with these guys all the time.
In connection with the same SPCA do as Kick up your Paws, I saw Southside Johnny, Gary US bonds, a really fabulous set of brass jazz musicians and Bobby Bandieri. I'd not seen Bandieri before, he'd remember the gig - he had his hand in a bandage. I love that guy, fabulous vocals - he did a Beatles number and that old Cohen classic Hallelujia (Bon Jovi was there and didn't do Hallelujia ISTR, even though it's a standby for him and to my immense disappointment Southside Johnny did not do "I don't want to go home" which I love.
You must jam with Bobby all the time, Bruce, but unfortunately I never got to see it 'cause right after that I moved out West, but when I'm in town again, I'm definitely gonna look for Bobby Bandieri, and if you ain't doing anything, I'll let you know and you should swing by. It would be WAAAAAAYYYYYY COOOOOOL! and hanging out in the local scene (music and otherwise) is what you seem to like, so it's not like I'd be imposing (and you own an Indian if memory serves, I'd love to ride one o them bad boys :-)
I know what I'm doing, ask Jay Leno. When he was the Grand Marshall at Bay to Breakers, I was they guy that Dudley Perkins gave the Harley to to delivery to Jay. He'll remember me, he has a photograph of me with him. We was hanging out back at the concert with Mayor Willie Brown and Greg Allman, so it was a party crowd - I got the photo's somewheres, I should dig 'em out )
Dudley Perkins have worked on every Harley I've ever owned. My latest is 2 years from being Vintage and looks brand new, runs like a champ. Just had the rectifier replaced, ran it straight up to 100+ on the way home, smooth as a brick down a well.
