I was going to post the rest of my Chris Parker story but I've been working on my script all day as well as three movie poster comps so I'm burned out. And the CP thing is kind of sensitive and requires my emotional presence, so it will have to wait until tomorrow.
In the meanwhile, I did mention Blue Oyster Cult in yesterday's post which compelled me into opening the slide box marked B.O.C. I knew that BOC still had a huge following with the current generation of teenagers. When I started the book, I looked up a lot of the bands to see who was alive and who was dead. Yeah, I'm morbid. What I didn't realize was that the original guys are not in the band. That struck me as strange. Anyway, I shot the original guys.
I wasn't into the heavy metal scene, but hey, I must have had a good time because I invited them over to my house. Looking at the pictures tonight, I really wondered, "What was I thinking?" I mean, check out the shirtless guy with the suspendered hot pants and the glittery socks. What was HE thinking? And Joe Bouchard in his Dracula cape. They were also really into the fog effect.
I know the first picture is Joe Bouchard. I can't remember the rest of them. Feel free to show your BOC allegiance by identifying the players in the comment page.
So, how did I get the whole band to my house on their off day? I have no idea. We were all backstage and they were trying to figure out what there was to do in Vancouver. Silly me. I opened my mouth and out popped, "You can come to my house. I have a pool." They seemed up for that, so I wrote down the directions and my phone number. (Oops, I just totally contradicted what I wrote yesterday about not trading numbers.) Not in a million years did I expect them to show up.
You're probably thinking I had some ritzy pad in the upper class part of town. They were probably thinking that too. But I was living in Richmond, BC, which at that time was in the middle of nowhere, between the city and the airport. I had a room in a house with five guys. One worked at a record company in sales. Another was a butcher. And the only other one I remember was a mechanic of something. The great thing about the house was I had a little darkroom in the attic. BTW, the pool was, one of those big above the ground things. We were surrounded on three sides by farmland. My point being, there was nothing fancy about the place.
I don't think I told the roommates that I had invited Blue Oyster Cult over. But I do remember how shocked they were when the band showed up. The afternoon was filled with a lot of cannonballs and screaming in the pool. But what I remember most was one of the guys brought his high end, state-of-the-art tape recorder. He had a thing for recording sounds everywhere he went. He didn't go swimming. He was too busy trying to get the cows on the other side of our fence to moo into his microphone. He was a happy camper.