Crash Adam

So...the problems connected with a busy person attempting to create and maintain a blog should be obvious. Who has time for this? But then, that is what my new job is all about...people are supporting me in order to see to it that I'm able to do just these sorts of things. It's all about communicating.

...and I love to gab, no doubt about it. Still it just feels strange allowing this to become the priority while letting the "less weighty" things fall off. And by less weighty I'm referring those things I used to call work.

Certainly I'll be able to cope as I adjust to the change. Communication has always been one of my great loves. My father often had great fun at my expense over this very thing...I can talk to anyone, and have spent my life talking to just about anyone, whether or not that seems wise.

Crash Adam was so typical of the type...the people other folk wish were invisible.
Generally Crash would loose 'em during the discussion of what his third album would look like...something to do with flaming unicorns I think.

He really didn't smell all that bad for a vagrant so far as barriers go. But when he'd launch into his rants about world conquest and how music could save the planet most people would become uneasy. And when he began to explain his life plan (little off schedule, but a plan none the less) as a modern day messiah that's when nearly everyone walked.

Me, I love a good story. I could sit and listen through a cup of coffee. It didn't hurt me, it may have even enriched me in some bizare way.
Anyway, he was no threat. He wasn't violent...and he was so very close to coherent.

The only painful part of the entire experience was recognizing that I wasn't going to be able to shuffle him back on deck to see the light of day. After a couple cups of joe I was gonna have to cut him loose like a fisherman letting go of his fav bass in some twisted catch in release program.

He was happy to let you pray for him, he was just never that clear on whether you were praying for him or to him...meds might have been the answer?

I'd run into Crash in the weirdest places...usually Hollywood, late at night after a gig or over by the Oasis down off Cherokee, but I found him wandering the streets of Hermosa one night and I brought him to Sunday evening service.

I hadn't given it a second thought really...my feeling was that maybe he'd latch hold of something useful and some light might trickle in.
Instead it was as though I had brought some exotic creature on "bring your pet to church night".

It's always so weird to see when people get clingy with the homeless guy. "Look at me, I'm helping the less fortunate..."

Don't get me wrong, clearly I'm into that sorta thing when it's legit, but there's this odd fascination some folk have with the down and dirty that they just can't hide with flowery language and soft speak...still all in all, we made it most of the way through the service before someone suggested I keep my monkey on a leash.

Crash wasn't really even aware that we were being escorted out, he was still discussing how he's like to throw a concert there, and wouldn't it be great to take pictures for the inner sleeve of "Crash Adam: Planet Free"

I suppose he was causing a disturbance, though it was less to do with him and more to do with everyone else's inability to cope with him.

We hit the local Denny's and I bought him breakfast.
As far as Crash was concerned all was right with the world. Not being one to let life pass him by, he thanked me for my tribute and head out into the night headed for...who knows?

I wouldn't see him again for ages. The street would take his soul. I cried out Crash Adam! But he looked at me with bedazzled empty look that says, "that name doesn't live here anymore".

And now it's been years since the last time...