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dabble
(65.33.33.95) on 12/18/2009 - 8:15 a.m. says: ( 47 views
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"my Gregg Allman Story"
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Edited by Author at 12/18/2009 - 8:18 a.m.
CONTEXT ADDED BY ADMIN:
END OF CONTEXT
This story is all true and happened to me while I was going to Auburn University. One of my fraternity brothers won a set of tickets to go see The Charlie Daniels Band at the Columbus Ampitheatre? That kinda crappy 1970’s gray concrete building that was painted white to make it look nicer (didn’t work.) It’s right off 280 on the way to AU from FLA. Well The Gregg Allman band was opening for the CDB. This was in one of Gregg’s half-show/no-show periods. You know – he might be fucekd up on DNA and not show. He might not be too wasted and at least be able to do a the show.
But I was juiced. We were going to go backstage and meet Gregg after the concert. So cool. We were going to meet hime for a few minutes. Do photo shoot for radio station. Get an autograph or something. Cool. I get to meet Gregg Allman. I was looking forward to it.
Anyway, that was back in a time in my life when I was really into music. You know, the kind of brain waves when you would hear ‘blue sky’ and think, or say to others not really knowing what an immature douche you sounded like, that it was really a beautiful song. Or they gave of themselves to write that. Back in a time when I would ague with anyone who would listen about the merits of Duane vs Dickey. And how Duane’s early demise has martyered his abilities and overshadowed Dickey’s contributions.
Anywhoooooooooo, the Gregg Allman band was opening and my friend Brian, who won the tickets off the Columbus Radio station asked me to go; knowing that I was an Allman Bros. Fan, that I would be fun to go with as I was and am a great guy, and that I had just won a case of mister jagermeister from the fraternity for a dare I had completed. (for the record, I hated that junk, never drank it, and gave it away as gifts and gentle incentivizations.) We did not really drink any that night. And I never really like to go to concerts all partied up. We drank a tall boy or two on the way from AU to GA.
Gregg opens. Does his songs. Drinks Jack Daniels from a glass. During the 70 minute set he drinks more and at some point dispenses with the glass for his Jack consumption in a move that Diogenes would be proud of. His speaking segments also grow longer and more inane as he consumes more and more. I do not know how much he drank as he knocked a bottle or two off the keyboards. But as someone who has had a past experience with too much alcohol consumptionification onces or twices. I could tell that he had TOOOOOOO much.
The sets over. CDB comes out to set up and Brian and I go backstage. We wait around with the radio people for a few minutes. And Gregg comes out with his ‘handlers’ behind him. Now Gregg is a big guy. And he’s sweaty drunk. The closer he gets the more I notice; he also smells like a cross between the Jack Daniels tour I took, goat #badword#e and crusty gym socks left in your locker over the summer in jr high.
He comes up to me and we are introduced. He signs my CD. He then gives me a huge sweaty bear hug. He the shouts in my ear as he bear hugs me, ‘man, I am so #badword#ed up. I gotta go take a piss.’ He then proceeds to jam his tongue in my ear. Yes, I got a wet willie from gregg allman. As he does so, he goes, ‘ahhhhhhhhhh’ He stops after what was in reality just a fraction of a second but seemed like 100 years. He backs away from me, turns around and stumbles down the hall away from me.
Brian, the radio station personnel and I are all standing their with moon-pie eyes. Our mouths are probably a bit open in stupfication. But the best part to me was the handlers. They look their eyes after Gregg. Then move their eyes to all others. They look at each other. And after looking at each other – they turn to us.
And in one of those moments of complete understanding for me (as I learned much form these guys) they give us the great Russian shoulder shrug. The one that says ‘I have lived and am still living a very hard life. My woman has turned fat & ugly. There is never any good food. My children are stupid. The vodka tastes like it was strained through those gym socks you were mentioning. And I gotta do this for a living.’
Kinda of a Solomaic ‘fuk you’ thing.
And walk away.
I look down at my cd and it says: ’to braim you’. That’s it. ‘to braim you’
Lesson learned.
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