2/28/39 - 2/22/01
Since no one seems to go back into the archives, I thought I would reprint this John Fahey post from May 12, 2006:
I have a tendency toward being linear. As a screenwriter, I should get over my desire for things to follow in order. When I watched the movie Memento on DVD, I kept wanting to run it backwards. I loved the movie but it drove my brain crazy.
I'm sliding this little John Fahey post in between my Ghost - Part I and Ghost - Part II stories because that's how it happened. The day after my visit from Michael Bloomfield, I came across a sheet of negs labeled John Fahey. I was really excited to find them. Like, jumping up and down excited. I thought they were long gone.
And I was even more excited when I googled "John Fahey" and found out he was dead. I know that is a really horrible thing to say/write. Maybe the most horrible thing I have ever said/written. It makes me sound downright evil. Which I'm not. Honest. So, I take it back. Sort of. Okay, I'm really sorry he died. I want you to know, I had nothing to do with his death. I never wished him dead. And I don't own any voodoo dolls. May John Fahey rest in peace.
Now that I've repented, "Why would I be excited he died?" Because I have a great John Fahey story. And now I get to tell it. Well, I don't mean "now" as in right now, this second. I mean in the book. At this point, I'm guessing most of you are asking, "Who the hell is John Fahey?" When I got the emergency phone call that led to my John Fahey encounter, I only vaguely knew his name. Isn't he some guitar players guitar player type? Obscure but respected? Yeah, that's John Fahey. An amazing guitar player.
Okay. This might be a good time for you to learn a little about Mr. Fahey. Before I taint his shiny memory. It also gives me a chance to plug my loyal reader/commenter, fellow blogger, and new friend, Harry Funk. He writes for a paper in Pittsburgh and also blogs about music. He really knows his stuff. While you wait on the edge of your seat for my John Fahey story, you can learn more about him on Sir Harry Funk's blog here (scroll to the bottom of the page).
Now, how can I taint his memory? By telling you that John Fahey was a pretty miserable guy. And as we all know, miserable characters make for good stories. Which means my John Fahey story must be good. And to prove it, I'll tease you with this: it involves an airplane, a drug deal and a dog...oh yeah, and me.
Let's see if you can figure that one out.
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