California Dreamin’ – 1982 to 1984 – Chapter 3 – Big Night Out In Atlanta

Things were good. Frank and I were chilling at his Aunt’s house in Atlanta and enjoying our time reconnecting. But I was itching to get back on the road. Frank’s Uncle came to visit and said he wanted to take us out. I’m fresh out of the nest at 19 and Frank is a world traveler at 21, so we’re down for anything. I can’t believe how many Irish people have relatives and friends scattered all over the globe.

The first place we go to is this cool country bar. We’re drinking beers and eating food and all is right with the world. This guy comes out, sits on a stool and plays original songs. I remember him being really good. It was a good warm up to the night ahead.

Then his uncle says he’s taking us somewhere else.

I’ve been to Baltimore and Washington DC, but not really anywhere else. I lived with my parents before this. This is the furthest I’ve ever been away from home in my life. I’m happy I have Frank with me, because he’s my security. I’m just a scared musician with anxiety and depression I barely even know I have. My mom made me three square meal a day my whole life. I have no clue as to what the world is.

Travel is so broadening. The world is such a bigger package than most people ever realize. All you know is your little world. But I know this journey is going to fundamentally change me. It’s something that has to happen. Leaving home was hard enough. I was terrified traveling all of that way by myself. None of my friends are doing anything like this. Just me. I’m different. I’m not but I know at that moment I’m different from all of them. I’ve always walked among them but never really joined them. This trip is proof of that. I have to learn to crawl towards the things that frighten me. Frank has no problem with anything. He’s a solid, bright guy. I’m just a skinny nothing. I don’t want to go to college like my sister Janice. I just want to go out into the world and find out who the hell I am.

Maybe music will carry me forth.

I just needed to get away from the dead-end existence of living in Wildwood. That’s a fun place in the summer, but nowhere to raise your kids if they’re from a major city. The winter is and empty desolate place where most of the people who live there are business owners that make a nice living and they spoil their children. The kids grow up in wealth but are bored out of their minds. I saw more drug abuse and teen pregnancy in that town than when I was back in Philly growing up.

Do I love that I got to spend every summer in the 70’s at the shore? Damn straight. It was amazing! Nobody on my block got to do that. Only us. So it set us apart from our neighbors in Lawndale. We didn’t care. We didn’t know. We were just kids. It’s something we just looked forward to and did every summer.

But Janice going off to college and me having to take my senior year at Wildwood High was just some self-serving selfish shit on the part of my father. But I’ve covered that already.

I’m happy to be on the road and free of the trappings of my parents existence. I’m sure Janice had her own awakening at college and so did little Gabrielle. We all made our way in different ways.

I’m here to be open and brave.

Here we go.

Frank’s uncle takes us to a place called the Pussycat Lounge. I don’t know what that is but it sounds sexy.

We go in and there are naked women dancing onstage.

My brain explodes.

I had never experienced anything like this in my life. I’ve heard about it and seen scenes like this in a movie but never the real thing. Back then I was still wet behind the ears. It was fascinating to see naked women before my eyes. Getting out in the world was an exciting adventure. They didn’t have anything like that anywhere I grew up. In between the girls dancing, there was this comedian that would come out and tell dirty jokes. He was really funny. Normally it takes a lot to make me laugh, but this dude killed.

Frank, his uncle and I had a great night out. I was still reeling from seeing that many naked girls standing right in front of me that night. When you’re young, and you see something like that for the first time it has incredible euphoric power.

I slept well that night and was still excited about what was next in the coming days.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Valentine’s Day – My Favorite Victoria’s Secret Super Model

I’ve decided to write about all of the celebrities I’ve met in my life. It’ll probably only be once a month, and I’ll crank them out until I run out of famous people.

First of all, Happy Valentine’s Day to all of my phicklephilly readers! I hope you’re in love or at least love something! If you’re not happy today, and if anyone starts talking about love, romance, hearts, cards, or chocolate, just slap them and say ‘it’s Wednesday!

It’s a coincidence and fitting that I release this piece on Valentine’s Day. Because this lady is and always will hold a special place in my heart.

This one happened about 11 years ago when I was working in Manhattan. The year was 2007.

I was sitting in a dive bar in Journal Square in Jersey City one evening after work. My buddy Howard was with me. I’m drinking a beer and reading the Daily News. On the Entertainment page was a little blurb at the bottom about how Alessandra Ambrosio was going to be making an appearance at the new Armani Exchange in Manhattan on Saturday afternoon.

I think every guy has an “It” girl in life. Some movie star, athlete, or model that they just adore. In the 70’s and 80’s for me it was Farrah Fawcett. I LOVED Farrah. I owned all of her posters starting with the famous red swimsuit. I was even a card carrying member of her fan club. Always watched Charlie’s Angels and all of her movies.

But sometime in the 90’s I noticed this one model in a Victoria’s Secret catalogue that really struck me. I didn’t know her name for several years. But once you have a woman in your life and order something from their catalogue, they never stop coming. They must send them out every couple of weeks because I had loads of them coming to the house.

I eventually found out the identity of this exquisite woman. Alessandra Ambrosio. I was in love. Her perfectly symmetrical face, with her feline eyes and lovely tawny hair is a combination that drove me nuts. I absolutely have adored Alessandra for years. I know I love beautiful women, it’s hard not to. But Alessandra to me is one of the most beautiful women on the planet.

Alessandra Ambrosio was born in Erechim, Brazil on April 11, 1981. Her parents are Brazilians of Italian, Portuguese and Polish ancestry and own a petrol station. She enrolled at a modelling class at the age of 12, and at the age of 14, she was one of 20 finalists for the 1995 Elite Model Look national competition for Brazil. Ambrosio was always insecure about her large ears, and at the age of 11, she had cosmetic surgery to have her ears pinned back, though two years later she suffered complications. In 2006, she appeared on The Tyra Banks Show, and said that the surgery was a bad experience and has discouraged her from ever getting plastic surgery again.

I would love Alessandra the same even if her ears stuck straight out like open car doors!

When Ambrosio was 12 years old, she partook in modeling classes, and then began modeling for Dilson Stein at age 15. Competing in Brazil’s Elite Model Look competition started her modeling career in earnest. Her first notable modeling job was shooting the cover of Brazilian Elle magazine. Elite passed along some of her Polaroids to Guess which led her booking the Millennium GUESS? campaign. She has since appeared in advertising campaigns for Gucci, Dolce & Gabbana, Calvin Klein, Oscar de la Renta, Christian Dior, Escada, Fendi, Giorgio Armani, Guess, Emporio Armani, Moschino, Gap, Hugo Boss, Ralph Lauren, Saks Fifth Avenue, Macy’s, Revlon, and the Pirelli Calendar. She has walked the catwalks for designers such as Prada, Chanel, Dolce & Gabbana, Givenchy, Christian Lacroix, Bottega Veneta, Escada, Tommy Hilfiger, Christian Dior, Marc Jacobs, Louis Vuitton, Balmain, Ralph Lauren, Halston, Vivienne Westwood, Giles Deacon, and Oscar de la Renta. She has appeared in numerous international magazine covers, including Cosmopolitan, Elle, GQ, Harper’s Bazaar, Marie Claire, Ocean Drive, Vogue and was the only model to appear on the cover of Glamour in the United States in 2006.

“I HAVE to go to A/X Armani Exchange on Saturday and try to see her! Do you want to go with me?”

“Why the hell would I want to go meet some supermodel? I’m gay!”

“Well she’s a fashion model and I figured you guys like stuff that’s fashionable.”

“I’m gay!”

So Saturday comes and I go to the local Rite Aid and buy a disposable camera. (Yea. I had a little cell phone back then before there were any iPhones or androids and that little phone didn’t have a camera in it. That thing was probably made by Fisher Price for all I know. A lot has happened in the world of technology in the last 15 years!)

So I’ve got my little cheapo plastic throw away camera and I hop on the PATH train into Manhattan. I get off at 32nd Street and walk East over to Fifth Avenue, The store is up around 56th Street so I need to walk north about 25 blocks. That’s a little bit of a hike. But it’s Saturday in the Summer and Manhattan is quiet on the weekends.

After awhile I finally reach the store. There’s a line of people to get in. I get in line behind this Asian girl and I go, “Is this the line to see Alessandra?”

“Oh, I have no idea. I just saw a lot of people here and I wanted to see what was going on.”

What a moron. How can she not know who Alessandra Ambrosio is?

The line is moving and I get inside.

The minute I lay eyes on the super queen I involuntarily gasp. I literally sucked air sharply into my lungs like I never have before.

I can’t believe I am standing in the same room with her. I can’t believe that I’m not seeing just a photograph of my queen. I am looking upon one of the most beautiful women in the world and the only thing that’s separating she and I is space.

I’m starstruck.

She sits down and starts signing things. I’m snapping pics and my heart is pounding. I’m getting closer!

Ohh…my love. My Queen! She is stunning! They take my name and write it on a little Post It. I assume this is because they don’t want any misspellings on the pictures she’s signing.

I finally reach Alessandra!!!

 

My arm around my queen!

I introduce myself and I can’t believe I am meeting her for real. She says my name and I swoon. My name coming from Alessandra’s lovely lips.

There she is! It’s really her! I’m shaking hands with my favorite woman on Earth. I’m looking into the eyes of the object of my desire for the last 10 years. She signs the photo, and I ask if they will take a photo of me with my camera. She agrees and I hand it to her handlers. I tell them to take a few just in case.

I put my arm around her, and lean in. My hand is on her shoulder! I’m touching Alessandra! My love!

I’m so close to Alessandra, I can smell her.

This is framed in my livingroom.

I will never be the same. I leave with my little camera full of photos, and the above autographed picture.

To Charles, Love, Alessandra. (Heart. Star.)

I love her even more now. I’ve met Alessandra Ambrosio! This day has been a dream come true. I’m holding the picture and I don’t want anything to happen to it, so I run across the street into of all things, a Victoria’s Secret. (Fitting!) I approach one of the sales girls and ask if I can have a bag.

“What do you need it for?”

I hold up the photo. “To protect this autographed picture of Victoria’s Secret model, Alessandra Ambrosio.”

The chick looks like she doesn’t know who Alessandra is and hands me a bag. I gently slide my treasure inside it. (puns abound) I thank the girl and nearly skip to the PATH station.

I’ve added these delicious little videos to close out this piece. I can’t watch the first one without getting worked up. I love her so much.

I met my super queen. I never met Farrah Fawcett. I loved her so much, but I met my new queen Alessandra. It was glorious day in my short life. She’ll never know how much I love her but I met her, We got a picture together, I touched her, and smelled her.

My lovely Alessandra…

 

 

 

 

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Lorelei – My Daughter – Happy Valentine’s Day

What can I say on Valentine’s Day to my daughter?

First on and foremost lets see what Valentines day really is.

I created the link so I don’t have to deal with it.

There will be flowers, chocolate and missing my girlfriend this year.

What are you all up to?

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valentine%27s_Day

 

Valentine’s day is here and my girlfriend is in Japan with her family so I have no one to celebrate the stupid created money grab holiday with.

So who do I love?

Of course! It’s so easy. My daughter, Lorelei!

So I’ll just write to her today.

 

Happy Valentine’s Day to you, love.

You are the light of my life, and even though you rose from a broken marriage, we both loved you so much.

I can’t speak for your mom but I love you more that I love myself, and I know she does too.

As crazy and difficult anything has been between your mom and me, we both love you and would give our lives to protect you in this world.

 

I forgive your mom for everything, and I hope she is smiling right now.

 

Life is way too short to be bitter about anything.

 

I’m so happy that you and Brad have been in a relationship for over 4 years now! (We love him! He gets to come to Christmas every year at Janice’s house!)

You have worked from the day you graduated high school, and been so consistent in everything you’ve pursued.

You’ve been in the same job for the last two years and have outlasted most of your coworkers, and you’ve been promoted.

 

I’m so proud of you my only daughter.

 

You’ve been in the arts since you were 4 years old. Singing, choir, acting, drama, shows, and plays non-stop. Theater Camp, and then high school plays, non-stop.

You came to me at 18 to escape the clutches of your mom and flourished here in Philly.

I love that, because we both made great decisions to come to this city for retribution and rebirth. Me in 2007, and you in 2015. Our family is from here and we belong here.

 

You and I had a great conversation tonight about how you have been making music again in your life.

Lor, you are a brilliant singer, but as an artist myself I knew I could never push you when you arrived here in Philly at 18.

Artists can never be controlled.

As much as a parent I wanted to encourage your talent I knew I was powerless, so I did nothing. The talent either thrives or perishes.

There is no middle ground when it comes to art.

 

Lorelei, you healed and flourished here in Philly.

I started to see your art return to you slowly. (That’s how it always occurs)

 

Long story short, you have now connected with a guitarist and you are going to start playing paid gigs at a bar here in Philly. You are very much in control of the set list and the guitarist is on board, so this is really happening.

I couldn’t be happier.

 

I’m a big fan of: “If you’ve got the gift, use it”

 

But it’s happening and I’m so excited! The former musician’s daughter that is far more talented than him is now going forth with her art.

You guys even have a venue and will be getting paid, which puts them light years ahead of anything I was doing back in 1979!

I’m so proud of my daughter and will invite everyone I to her first show…. I know it will be amazing.

 

Umm…. I’m going to write these last words just so they’re on the internet forever for her from me….

 

Happy Valentine’s Day, my love!

 

My beautiful bird….

 

Go forth and sing.

I have wished for this day for so long, and now it’s here.

This moment in your life is so important.

Now you strike.

Daughter, it is your time to fly high, but not to close to the sun.

Protect your wings.

Life is fleeting and fragile.

Enjoy yourself.

 

Your Dad will always be here for you as long as I can stand.

 

As i get older I’ve learned that life is always moving fast.

 

In a short amount of time…

 

This will all seem like a long time ago.

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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14 Ladies In Uniform That Are Super Fine

I saw this on a popular app I have called Ebaum’s World. They always have cool pics. meme’s and stories. I love looking at their stuff because it’s always fun.

I found this collection to be especially great in regard to all the ladies in the world serving our country!

 

Enjoy!

 

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/pictures/14-ladies-in-uniform-that-are-semper-fine/85508296/

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Phicklephilly – Hang On Saint Christopher

“This has been the best therapy that I never had to pay for.”

I’ve been writing phicklephilly for over two and a half years now and there’s no end in sight. The phicklephilly book is finished and so is the Sun Stories book for Amazon. Now I’m working on the TV series. Why not? Sex in the City from a gentleman’s perspective.

Once I got through writing about all of the crazy dates I’ve been on since returning to Philadelphia from New York, and my relationships, I turned inward. I’ve been in a relationship with this lovely girl who I adore, but you can’t write a dating blog if you’re in a committed relationship. It just won’t work. So I started to write about my life and my past in general. I didn’t want the blog to lose its voice, and I certainly didn’t see this relationship coming. It’s been wonderful, and I love Cherie very much. She has an amazing, loving, calming effect on me. She’s a sweet, down to Earth girl who is also smart, and a sexual animal in the bedroom. What man wouldn’t want that?

She’s also not around all of the time, so there isn’t that “I have to put my time in, or I have to go do a bunch of things that I don’t want to do.” She is literally the greatest hits album in a relationship.

When I walk down the street with her I actually get a feeling that I’d love to have her as my wife. Because she’d be amazing at that. I can’t describe why, because I’ve had zero success with committed relationships and marriage but I feel it with her. First time in 30 years. Cherie would be a good wife. I swear it feels like that when I’m walking out in public. “Yea, this is my wife Cherie.”

I felt this like a week ago before she went to Japan. She’s just so chill and sweet and knows me.  When we’re together, it’s just like a great song. Whether it’s just doing nothing, watching a movie, mad sex, or eating together. It’s just so easy.

Isn’t that what life should be? I don’t know, because it’s never worked for me. But I’m older now. Maybe I’ve finally pulled my mind together. We’ve both been through all of our shit and we could actually settle down and be together and it could be a peaceful happy relationship. I have no idea what that looks like but this could be it.

But don’t worry. I’m not doing anything rash. That has always resulted in disaster. Every relationship I’ve ever been in has burned to the ground. Stay friends or whatever, it’s over.

I need my alone time. That’s paramount. But I have that with her. But if we got married, we’d have to obviously have to consider cohabitation. She has a wild little son. I don’t want that. I could handle him and help him, but I’m over kids. I’ve already raised Lorelei and she’s mint. I can’t go again.

When we’re together its golden but she’s extremely busy getting her education and working and I’m holding it together at the salon and building a business. I can’t risk that.

I’m finally out of the rat race and I’ve never been so happy. I’m working my butt off but for me now. My real talent is finally being realized. This is a moment at the precipice of greatness.

I’m just going to have to be the best person I can be to her because she loves me so much, and I love her and want to keep her. There are just a lot of moving parts to this life right now.

I’m not worried. I just need to be attentive to her and she has really been great with making time to see me. Our time lately has been wonderful. I’m very pleased at how things are going right now.

But why did I have the affair with Ambria if everything is so good now? I don’t know. I’ve always been loyal to all of my girls. I’m just a romantic gentleman. I know what’s right and what’s wrong. My father taught me that. But he was a cheater but admired that I wasn’t like him.

He made me but I’m not him.

But what if I am and I just haven’t had the opportunities that he’s had? What if I really am him?

 

I’m so busy now I don’t have much of a social life but when I do its compressed and intense because of what’s happening with the business. I’m no longer posting to or looking at stuff on social media because I don’t want people knowing what I’m doing and I no longer care about everyone’s life on Facebook, filled with food, babies, and events and vacations.

I just live my life now.

I’m happier than I’ve ever been and I don’t care what anyone else is doing and no longer care to let anyone in the world know what I’m up to.

With good reason.

I love Cherie. At my age I’m blessed to have her. A hot, beautiful 27-year-old babe that loves sex and lives to please me. Then why am I doing what I’m doing? Ambria? That’s just season 4 on Phicklephilly someday on Netflix.

Sometimes I think that writing this blog has finally released everything in me and I’ve found the perfect forum to do it. But what if phicklephilly is actually driving me to offend? What if because I have this forum now, I’m doing things and pushing the envelope to create better content?

Art imitating life, imitating art?

I think that’s what’s happening. I need content. I want to tell my stories and I love writing about my childhood. It feels wonderful to finally release all of my experiences and feelings onto the page. I love all of my followers and they have been amazing and supportive. This has been the best therapy that I never had to pay for.

I can get it all out and finally dump the freight car of baggage and stories I’ve been carrying around in my head for decades.

Can you even comprehend what that feeling is like? Once I write it and post it, I’m clear. I’ve worked it out and told the story. I publish and it’s out of me. It’s been a nightmare holding all of this in.

Now it’s all out there. Everything will eventually be out there to free myself of this burden in my hand.

When I started this blog I wrote about waitresses, crazy girls, and shitty dates I attempted to go on. Then I started to write about my relationships. That’s when the blog started to sing for me. But it was hard. Because those love affairs were over. So I had to romanticized dead relationships and dredge up all of those memories. Good and bad.

Then the rebounds and even more crazy.

Then I meet a great girl. Seems impossible I can go again with a girl this young but it works. But then when we’re in a rough patch of distance I willfully have an affair.

Something must have been missing, or do I just suddenly have the power and the availability?

This is all new ground for me and I don’t know why I even did it. I’m a decent, loyal man and I love my girlfriend very much. I don’t want to lose her and I don’t think I will. If you’ve been reading this blog you’ll know that we’re rock solid as ever and our relationship is glorious.

She’s over on the other side of the world with her family. I hope they’re all laughing and eating and happy together.

I’m not sorry for Ambria, but it happened.

I’ve worked 20 days in row at the salon non-stop to hold it together because it’s what’s needed. We’ve burned through 4 employees in a month and we have to get this gym open by Labor Day. I’ve got money tied up in this business. It needs to be successful and I won’t rest until it is.

I fit my friends in when I can and I’m making it work, but the grind is getting to me. But I’ll see it through for the business. The results could make us all wealthy.

My life is beautiful. Everything is moving forward. I’ve never been happier. I should have learned my lesson. I want things to work between me and lovely Cherie, who seems to be the perfect girl for me.

Everything’s great right?

Why do I keep saying how much I love Cherie and how happy I am over and over?

Am I trying to convince all of you?

Or Me?

 

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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Cherie – Chapter 43 – A Kiss Before Asia

Cherie is going to visit her brother in Japan. The whole family is going.  She’ll be gone for two weeks. It sounds like it will be an amazing trip. I’m going to miss her but we’ll keep in touch. Last weekend was amazing so that’ll have to hold me over, but I thought we could have lunch this week just to see each other one more time before she leaves.

We decide to meet up at Misconduct. The last time we were there it was her 27th birthday. I gave her candy and a gift card to Starbucks. Our relationship was so new back then. Barely a month old. Now we’ll have been together for nearly ten months. Going strong.

I’m sitting at my table (table #12) and who pops over but my friend Mary. (See: Mary -Unexpected Table for Two) Normally she’s not here on a Tuesday, but for some reason she’s here. It’s nice to chat with her. We met up for drinks a few weeks ago and I’m happy she’s in my life.

Cherie arrives and Mary remembers her. She also remembers the cute unexpected way she was a part of me giving Cherie her little birthday gifts that day back in November.

Cherie is wearing a little olive-green vest over what appears to be a silky patterned jumper. It’s the least clothes I’ve ever seen her wear in public. The two strips of fabric can barely contain her breasts, the neckline plummets, there is no back to it, and the shorts are barely there. She looks smoking hot. I love seeing her lovely shapely legs out. It’s actually turning me on that my girlfriend has so little on in public.

Lunch was great and it’s good to buy my baby a meal, because she never wants anything.

Later I’m walking her to her car and she tells me she’s horny. She’s always horny. I’ve never met a woman with a more insatiable sex drive. It’s fantastic, but I sometimes I feel bad for her because she’s worked up and I’m not with her and I can’t help her relieve the urge. I like walking down the street with her. I hope I run into someone I know so I can show off my lovely girlfriend.

We get to her car and she is in a 2 hour parking zone so she has to go. We get in and chat a bit in the air conditioning.

“You’re the perfect guy for me.”

“You’re the perfect girl for me.”

“I love sex and I can really cum a lot of times. I need to release as many as I can. But I need a man who can sustain intercourse for long periods of time. Most men hop on, hop off and that’s it they go to sleep. You just keep going, and going. You’re like the Energizer Bunny!”

“Well thank you for that, Cherie. I love having sex with you so much I want it to last. Anything worth doing, is worth overdoing. I enjoy the journey with you more than the orgasm. That may be hard for some men to believe but it’s true. It’s not about the destination because then our lovemaking is over. I don’t get to see you that much, so I want the intimate moments between us to be memorable and I really want to satisfy the woman I love sexually.”

She kisses me and I kiss her back. It’s a lovely moment. I’ll miss her. I assure her that we’ll keep in touch.

She drives me up to Walnut street and I kiss her goodbye and tell her we’ll keep in touch.

I walk around the corner and light a cig. I head to the salon.

A few hours later I get a text.

“I’m sooo horny!”

That’s my girl.

 

 

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Tales of Rock – Why Surf Rock Legend Dick Dale Is Almost 80 And Still Touring

In 1962, legendary surf rock guitarist Dick Dale released his biggest hit, “Misirlou.” You probably know it as the song Tarantino used in the opening titles of Pulp Fiction.

At nearly 80 years old, Dale is still touring, still playing “Misirlou” as quickly as ever. He says if he stops touring, he’ll die. And that’s not the hyperbolic refusal of a star to let old age keep him from rocking. You see, Dale is suffering from a variety of ailments, and they’re all battling to be the one that kills him first. He needs the money earned from touring to help pay his medical bills. These are the health problems he’s had to deal with:

Renal failure Rectal cancer Diabetes Rectal cancer, again Blinding pain caused by severe spinal damage Having part of his stomach and intestines removed because of the rectal cancer.

Hearing of his financial plight, you’d think he’s scrambling for some late-in-life cash to make up for the time he bought Bengal tigers for everyone in his entourage. Not so. Dale wears a colostomy bag beneath his clothes. His doctors recommend that he clean and redress his entry hole once a week, to which Dale calls bullshit. Following their directions made him unnecessarily suffer from the kind of infections that tend to occur when you poop from a hole in your stomach. So he’d rather re-patch twice a day and stay infection-free, but his insurance refuses to cover those costs. The only surefire way to get the out-of-pocket $3,000 a month he needs to cover the cost of the additional medical supplies is to tour.

But touring has turned out to be a double-edged sword, kind of like the metaphorical one Dale uses to describe the pain in his spine every time he stands up. It pays the bills, sure, but he’s in agony the whole time he’s on stage. And there’s always the chance that his medical equipment will fail him during a show. For example, just before taking the stage at a show in Las Vegas, his colostomy bag tore and liquid shit ran down his legs. His wife quickly washed all his clothes in a backstage sink. He put the clothes back on and proceeded to give the 90-minute performance fans had paid to see. Though you can’t really put a price on getting to watch a sopping wet old man who smells vaguely like diarrhea play that song The Black Eyed Peas sampled for “Pump It.”

Facing his own mortality every day for decades has given Dick Dale time to think about the perfect way to go: “On stage in an explosion of body parts.” There is no more appropriate death for a guy who’s barely being held together than to explode like a crash-test dummy toy while playing a guitar really fast.

 

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