Suggested Audio Candy:
Puddle of Mudd Out of My Head
There are a number of posers which I pose myself on at least a bi-daily basis.
What is the average wingspan of a pterodactyl?
How long would it take to circumnavigate the African continent counter-clockwise in a Price Chopper trolley with gum on its wheels?
and ordinarily these questions are followed by my third…
Am I out of my head?
The jury’s out on that one.
I was always a little different from the other kids in school. While they skipped rope, played hopscotch, and whined about the loss of their milk teeth, I was far too predisposed dissecting worms to care what the Joneses were up to. Indeed, the only time I showed so much as a flicker of interest was when a round of “Kissy kissy totem pole” was announced behind the bicycle sheds. Other than that, I was in my own little world for the most part and blissfully unaware. Even then, I had an inkling that I may well be out of my head but shelved my curiosity until which time as I was in a position to learn the answer.
Many years passed and I was almost forty before asking myself that precise question a second time. This time, the answer was far more encouraging and a resounding “yes” came as a humongous relief as who wants to be normal anyhoots? Over the past two years I have made my name on account of being “a bit of a wrong ‘un” and any flailing cerebral strands have worked largely in my favor during that period. By putting myself out there and rubbing noses with fellow wrong ‘uns I have gained a level of acceptance never before considered feasible and, should I be a loony, then at least I’m a happy loony.
Naturally the first thing one does on receipt of the intelligence that they are, indeed, out of their heads, is to find others similarly separated from reality and a handful of months back, purely by good fortune, I came across another fellow who fits the mould rather snugly. Actually, my primary introduction to Adam Ginsberg was far from debauched, and his sublime verse in Jeremiah Kipp’s glorious short Alone showcased a man very much in tune with his exclusive endowments. His performance made me weep and, considering I made the tin man look needy up until that point, it was no minor feat.
Instantly I poured out my appreciation via prose and the appraisal, for a film which lasts all of two minutes, has gone on to become one of the most popular and revisited of all my movie-related pieces. Moreover, it left me with a thirst for knowledge. During my analysis, I stated with vehemence that Adam was headed for legendary status, and I endorse that comment with even more defiance now that I have been gifted first-hand experience of one of the brightest stars blinding the indie circuit at present.
My recent article titled Who The Hell is Adam Ginsberg? offered a little insight into why I believe every one of the Grueheads should be clicking their follow tab for @theadman40 on Twitter. He is tearing shit up on multiple fronts and none more so than with his regular slot on Out Of My Head Radio which transmits worldwide to an ever-expanding audience. Between acting, writing, producing, and directing, I’m amazed he finds the free time to be such a formidable presence on our airwaves but somehow he spins every plate without once fumbling the crockery. Again, a tough ask for a normal guy but Adam is not what you would class as “normal”. Neither is he abnormal. Beyond normal is more fitting thus, when he invited me to swing by his show for an exclusive tête-à-tête, I snapped his hand off like a malnourished gator with lockjaw.
My last recorded interview was with my dear friend and fellow wrong ‘un, Billy Crash and I have appeared on his show twice already with a third appointment very much on the cards. Ordinarily, I am more at ease behind the quill than exposed for the whole world to listen in on. However, a good interviewer knows two things: how to steer a conversation and how to make their subject feel completely at ease. Thankfully, there are a pair of carpet slippers with a crimson K emblazoned across them located by the front door of the Crashpalace and I could chew the gristle with him until there was nowt left but skulls to lick. But I was now to be entering unchartered waters.
The very moment that I connected with Adam I knew full well that I would be required to purchase a second pair of slippers. It’s one thing possessing a voice of pure velvet but entirely another having something valid to speak of. I wasn’t required to tune into his bandwidth as he shared the very same frequency as my own. The consequent conference was an absolute delight and we whiled away two hours with effortless glee as we continued to spark fuses long after the transmission had terminated. Adam and I share a mutual admiration for one another and I’m convinced that future collaborations will bring countless ripened fruit to your tables. But for now, I present you the interview and invite you to vacate your craniums alongside us.
Truly, Really, Clearly, Sincerely,
Keeper of the Crimson Quill
Copyright: Crimson Quill: Savage Vault Enterprises 2015