The Precious Axl...I don't know why this popped into my head this afternoon but it did.
Where do I begin...
Many years ago, I didn't like Guns & Roses. I hadn't even heard their music but I thought they were crude idiots.
My opinion of the day came about when I was with my boyfriend at the bank, I think. The year must have been the tail end of 1988. Some kid was in front of us with a jean jacket on with a scene on the back of it from one of their albums. It was crude and offensive. After googling it, I find that it was the uncensored cover for Appetite of Destruction. I don't recommend looking it up, do so at your own risk.
Anyway--this was before I had heard any of their music and at the time I was not so much into the Big Hair Metal Bands...not that I ever was "in" to them, so much as really liked some of them...but they weren't my thing...I was more of a punk, retro kinda kid. Anyway it doesn't matter.
This afternoon, as I drove home from work, "Welcome to the Jungle" came up on the ole' iPod playlist (because through the years I have come to enjoy a fair amount of their catalog), and as my mind wandered and I waited at a stop light, I remembered that several years after the less than savory encounter I had with the album cover, that I did come to appreciate Guns & Roses and what they had to offer the angry inner child.
As Slash...slashed away...at his guitar, and Duff thumped away on his bass, and the drummer whose name I still don't know did his thing, and that skinny imp Axl crooned, I remembered that A: I had a very confusing dream in which Axl Rose played a major part, when I was 21; and B: that I had a very brief brush with drunken fame when I met Duff at the Roxy in Los Angeles one balmy summer night.
As I daydreamed away, I reflected back on Axl Rose's ridiculous career and how he has completely careened off track into some kind of mania and how he did not fade away gracefully whatsoever...which brings me to my dream.
I don't remember all of it, but it's pretty close to 20 years ago at this point so the details have been lost. I do remember he was dressed like he was in the video for Sweet Child of Mine, and we were in a most fabulous lip-locked embrace and ooooo... was he a charmer. I woke up confused, because A: I didn't really care about G&R at that point in time and B: I knew that Axl was a very, very naughty man...probably more than naughty and straight into debauched...given that I was a pretty straight laced kinda kid at the time...albeit I did love the make out...I didn't know where this dream was coming from.
I proceeded to daydream into my meeting with Duff. I'm with my cousin, the girlfriend of the Mob House Rocks singer, at the Roxy in Los Angeles in the summer of 1992, and we are in some dimly lit, fairly fetid back stage area, and Duff is there sitting in a big chair, pushed against the curtains, in the semi dark, in a sunglassed, slouched, drunken, debauched state with two chicks on his lap. We say "Hello" and he nods his acknowledgment of our presence in his kingdom and that was my brush with G&R fame.
I got further than many, but not as far as some. There was no signing of the bum or boobies, to my great relief...especially since I'm a pen and paper kinda gal anyway.
Anyway...there is no point to the post...it's just a twisted little story from my twisted little life...in fact it's possible that I have reminisced about this previously...but long enough ago that I'm not digging around for it. ;)
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