Rock Back

In case you're not an ardent reader of the comments on this log on the web, or if you're not very observant re: the links on the right, I had a weird bit of confluence last week. I was goofing on the guitar while sitting on the couch and flipping channels between the Spurs game and a "ooh, racism" episode of Law & Order. Somewhere during the past month or so I was putting all of my album covers in iTunes, and when I came across the legendary Suckapunch LP "Young and Disturbed in America," I could not find the cover art via iTunes, the internet of otherwise. Directly behind me at this moment there is a five foot tall stack of cardboard boxes containing my real, physical CD collection, and the album is surely in there somewhere. But, being lazy, I googled classic friend Chris Alonzo and came up with his old website from a Brooklyn-based theatre company. And as a toss-off, I linked to it in this olde logge-otw.

Somewhere in the midst of watching a Spurs game, playing guitar, and occasionally grabbing glimpses of grimy NYC, I got a comment from the man himself! Seems he has some kind of ultra-paranoid image-protecting and/or ultra-self-involved (I kid, I kid) software that scans the internets for mentions of his name. Either this or he self-googles an awful lot. Regardless, this is AWESOME, because I got back in touch with the man-myth-legend, original friend from my upbringing on the Episcopal streets of San Antonio and esteemed member of the dated-Courtney Peese-triumverate, Chris!

Chris's impact on the nyetian epic is without measure. In fact, there is a high degree of danger that this could devolve into a remember-when diatribe of sentiment. So I'll try to dodge that angle. But Chris was the impetus for a lot, not the least of which is my guitar-attempts at rockstar wankery - he's the original dude, taught me the intro to "One" and nirvana riffs and all that other juicy alterna-clunkery to which the neighbors were treated many a concert. A self-taught, non-music-reading guitar virtuoso. An artist with a spirit-level connection to the emotional content of existence. In a way, Chris is raw punk emotion embodied, and you wouldn't hesitate to call him a predictor of emo were it not for the wussy gloss sheen that genre has assimilated. So, in the reductionist version of the tale, if Mike is the optimist and heartfelt life-venturer to balance out my inner skeptical misanthrope, Chris is the heart to balance my head.

So, it's awesome to hear from him again. Stupid how the connections get lost, eh? This may be overly-biased Scottsdale-oriented thinking, but the authentic soulsters are few and far between, I've found. And that may sound pessimistic, but it's sort of a little empirical finding I've made. Cccccccchris, though, is the original and authentically intact Chris. Not to say he hasn't changed or anything equally cliche, but just that it's good to hear a true source. Check his blog, or pics from his wedding. Buy his album. Rock out! And keep those that balance your particular worldview in at least your peripheral vision, lest you get sucked into the tunnel that is you.