Tribute aftermath...
There's a reason why I don't drink whiskey anymore.
The evening of the Hunter Thompson Tribute at the CST is a subtle reminder of this reason. A not-so-subtle, raving, swerving loon of a reason.
It was great in the end. Almost a sold out event that teemed with the lurching menace of a drunken mass. I hadn't expected more than 50 people, but when it topped out at over 200, I knew we were on to something. Some of them had glassy stares and the look of a rotten middle class. Some were young and slavish. All were happy to be there. The Doc was the last outlaw to them and it was time to lift a glass to the one who had pushed us all over the edge somehow.
As I helped Seth outline the procedure to cue up the DVD part of the tribute, ice was melting in my Tiki tumber - ready for the fool I was about to become. The line heaved around the corner and down the block. Black-clad teens huffing on a soggy joint before digging through their pockets for admission. Middle aged women bragging about their adventures of taking mushrooms with Hunter. Mass hysteria in the lobby with me and my empty glass scrambling to neighboring businesses for one dollar bills to beef up the box office. 15 minutes after the gig was to have started - and most of the crowd was inside, Seth hustled his narrow frame past the lineup at the makeshift bar in the back, and up to the projection booth - while I shifted down the theater asle, marveling at the horde we had gathered. The drunk, stoned and griefstricken of Portland - ready for a wake.
As I stepped onto the stage, a collective howl rose up....
GH: Good evening ladies and gentlemen. My name is Greg, and on behalf of the Clinton Street Theater, I would like to thank you for coming out tonight to our tribute/wake.....for the great, late Hunter S. Thompson.
(crowd screams - wild applause)
GH: The visions, writings and occasional hallucinations of the good Doctor have served to changes the face of modern journalism and popular writing as we know it.
(more applause)
GH: Some of you were introduced to Hunter through his epic tome "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas...(more screams)....a drug fueled, savage tale about the search for the heart of the American Dream. Tonight we have a print of the film adaptation - starring Johnny Depp and Benicio Del Toro.
(more applause)
But before that, we have an excerpt....a cryptic excerpt from a 1978 documentary that I think you will find fitting for this evenings proceedings. (applause) I'd like to thank this evening's sponsors....whiskey, beer, vodka....(crowd goes nuts)....and any illegal drugs that you might be on! (wild applause) Now, does anyone have any Hunter remembrances?
Man: HST was doing a book signing at Powells - and there was this guy waiting in line with a weird eye infection.....things were closing up at the store and Hunter was bothered by the noise....and kept mumbling about snipers and Republican thugs. When the guy got up to him, Hunter took one look at him and his eye, grimaced - signed his book and said, "That's it...I'm done, things are getting too weird," and left the table.
GH: Great! Anyone else?
Woman: Anyone believe that Hunter was murdered - rather than killed?
(crowd starts making weird noises)
GH: I think that one will be left to Hunter's legend....NEXT!
Woman: I ate mushrooms with him in Berkley!
GH: Wonderful! Ok...we've got to keep this show going, so before we start, I would like to propose a toast....(pulls a pint of Wild Turkey from pocket and pours half of it in the Tiki glass - crowd goes nuts)...to the Good Doctor (audience raises their glasses) whose words and deeds cast a long shadow over all of us. Here's to you, Doc - the world won't be the same without you.
(everyone drinks...as I spill whiskey on my shirt)
GH: Alright - without any further ado....let's get started. Thanks for coming out! (crowd starts howling again).
The evening totally exceeded expectations though - great crowd. We did Hunter proud. Whee-ha!
The evening of the Hunter Thompson Tribute at the CST is a subtle reminder of this reason. A not-so-subtle, raving, swerving loon of a reason.
It was great in the end. Almost a sold out event that teemed with the lurching menace of a drunken mass. I hadn't expected more than 50 people, but when it topped out at over 200, I knew we were on to something. Some of them had glassy stares and the look of a rotten middle class. Some were young and slavish. All were happy to be there. The Doc was the last outlaw to them and it was time to lift a glass to the one who had pushed us all over the edge somehow.
As I helped Seth outline the procedure to cue up the DVD part of the tribute, ice was melting in my Tiki tumber - ready for the fool I was about to become. The line heaved around the corner and down the block. Black-clad teens huffing on a soggy joint before digging through their pockets for admission. Middle aged women bragging about their adventures of taking mushrooms with Hunter. Mass hysteria in the lobby with me and my empty glass scrambling to neighboring businesses for one dollar bills to beef up the box office. 15 minutes after the gig was to have started - and most of the crowd was inside, Seth hustled his narrow frame past the lineup at the makeshift bar in the back, and up to the projection booth - while I shifted down the theater asle, marveling at the horde we had gathered. The drunk, stoned and griefstricken of Portland - ready for a wake.
As I stepped onto the stage, a collective howl rose up....
GH: Good evening ladies and gentlemen. My name is Greg, and on behalf of the Clinton Street Theater, I would like to thank you for coming out tonight to our tribute/wake.....for the great, late Hunter S. Thompson.
(crowd screams - wild applause)
GH: The visions, writings and occasional hallucinations of the good Doctor have served to changes the face of modern journalism and popular writing as we know it.
(more applause)
GH: Some of you were introduced to Hunter through his epic tome "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas...(more screams)....a drug fueled, savage tale about the search for the heart of the American Dream. Tonight we have a print of the film adaptation - starring Johnny Depp and Benicio Del Toro.
(more applause)
But before that, we have an excerpt....a cryptic excerpt from a 1978 documentary that I think you will find fitting for this evenings proceedings. (applause) I'd like to thank this evening's sponsors....whiskey, beer, vodka....(crowd goes nuts)....and any illegal drugs that you might be on! (wild applause) Now, does anyone have any Hunter remembrances?
Man: HST was doing a book signing at Powells - and there was this guy waiting in line with a weird eye infection.....things were closing up at the store and Hunter was bothered by the noise....and kept mumbling about snipers and Republican thugs. When the guy got up to him, Hunter took one look at him and his eye, grimaced - signed his book and said, "That's it...I'm done, things are getting too weird," and left the table.
GH: Great! Anyone else?
Woman: Anyone believe that Hunter was murdered - rather than killed?
(crowd starts making weird noises)
GH: I think that one will be left to Hunter's legend....NEXT!
Woman: I ate mushrooms with him in Berkley!
GH: Wonderful! Ok...we've got to keep this show going, so before we start, I would like to propose a toast....(pulls a pint of Wild Turkey from pocket and pours half of it in the Tiki glass - crowd goes nuts)...to the Good Doctor (audience raises their glasses) whose words and deeds cast a long shadow over all of us. Here's to you, Doc - the world won't be the same without you.
(everyone drinks...as I spill whiskey on my shirt)
GH: Alright - without any further ado....let's get started. Thanks for coming out! (crowd starts howling again).
The evening totally exceeded expectations though - great crowd. We did Hunter proud. Whee-ha!
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home