Every morning before I even really wake up, I reach for my phone. I turn off the alarm. I check my email (I have lunatic clients who email me at all hours of the night). I read ‘this day in music’, and then I get up and face the day. Even if I’m late for work or I have an early flight, my routine doesn’t change. Today was an especially early morning thanks to my buddy Maynard. He was whining pitifully to go outside as he does most every morning. But at 4:30 AM – come on! Think it through, Maynard! I probably shouldn’t have raised my voice to the little fella though.
He’s earned the right to be a pain in the ass I guess. I hope I can match his age some day; 84 in human years. If I’m that lucky, I think I might actually enjoy being a crotchety old bastard – waving my cane at the neighborhood kids and whatnot. Regardless, everyday I find out remarkable details about all sorts of music that I didn’t know prior. I learn obscure facts that I feel I need to internalize before I rise up and attempt to be creative. I rarely share these tidbits with anyone. If you wanted to know, you would find out for yourself – I’ll make an exception this time.
So today there was a bunch of crap about Elvis (yawn), and Sha Na Na and tons of other minutia that isn’t worth repeating. Honestly, I don’t know why I load my brain with these, effectively useless, morsels of knowledge at all. As I’ve said, I’m probably never going to divulge this “knowledge” to anyone. I’m most likely never going to be in a trivia ‘fight to the death’ scenario where what lies dormant in my brain must be recalled in a flash to save my life. But I don’t know that for sure, do I? So I’ll keep reading my ‘this day in music’ and you keep doing whatever it is that you do that makes you feel normal.
I’m rambling. Regardless, the last item on the list today was this: “2004, Ramones guitarist Johnny Ramone died in Los Angeles after a five-year battle with prostate cancer. Founding member of The Ramones, major influence on many punk and 90’s bands.”
Wow!
That’s it?
That’s all that they could say about one of the most influential guitarist in the history of modern music? Hardly a footnote? His life in (25) words or less? Rip off!
How can they reduce that life to this barely tolerable bullshit? And then put him last in the list on top of?! Ramones were live in Queens, 1974: before John Lydon ever even met Malcolm McLaren, even before the most important band in the world came together, the Clash.
I felt slighted. You cannot put into words what this guy meant to a million other kids just like me. To be fair, he’s not Van Halen or Vai by any stretch of even my overactive imagination, but he took bar chords to a level never before seen. He basically invented punk in my opinion and thus changed the arc of guitar based rock ‘n’ roll forever. Yeah the Stooges and MC5 were around, but no punk guitarist influenced as many young players as Johnny did. His playing ‘style’ inspired me to pick up the guitar for the first time. At a young age I knew if Johnny Ramone could play (3) perfect chords and be a rock star then I could too. It was only later in life that I truly began to understand what a seminal figure he was in music – not just punk music.
What was, and is still, so indescribably cool about Johnny is that he was not cool. By any definition, he was the opposite of “cool”. He had bowl-cut hair, wore a dirty white tee-shirt, had a bad complexion, he was short, he was from Queens. He was a freaking REPUBLICAN for crying out loud! (I know, right?) He was an icon: in spite of himself.
In the midst of this internal rant, it occurred to me that the only reason this website exists is to provide only a nugget of information on as many topics as possible. It’s not to actually memorialize anything or anyone. It’s intended to give you a simple snapshot and if you find that image compelling, it’s on you to dig deeper.
I’ve been out-of-sorts all day because of it nevertheless.
On the train to B a few minutes ago, just when my mind was finally returning to center this thought popped in my head: What if, at the end of my life, I am successful enough, or popular enough or important enough to appear in a list like this?
And on the flip-side, what if I’m not?
What if, when I’m gone, some intern is tasked with condensing my life into (25) words or less? What would be written? Who would they even ask?
Have I treated my friends and all others true enough to deserve a glowing remembrance?
Or am I really the asshole that I’ve always perceived myself to be?
Have I done enough (plus) in my life to warrant (25) words?
Or have I always been too (negative) and locked away to leave an impression?
Is the independent pride that carried me through life enough to sustain my memory after I’m gone?
If I died right now, is my life worthy of even the “footnote” that I’ve been so tweaked about all day?
I wonder what I would write about myself.
As usual, I made this about me, when it’s not. Today is about remembering one of my heroes. (And I should probably apologize to my little Maynard when I get back to the A.)
Sophia agrees but I’m certain that she has no idea what I’m talking about.
R.I.P. Johnny Ramone, I miss you brother.
John William Cummings
‘Johnny Ramone’
October 8, 1948 – September 14, 2004
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