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6:42 a.m. - 2004-06-17

UNCLE BOB RAMONE ... CARRYING ON THE TRADITION

So last night I was positively bored out of my skull.

We had about 40 people in the club and they were more interested in watching Dennis Miller with the sound off than dancing.

So I decided that rather than concentrate on trying to get them to dance, I was going to pretend I was the head DJ at Club Eclectic ... where the music choices are never what you'd expect.

So I was playing Sun Ra, Tom Waits, Wayne Newton, Charlie Parker, Rockin' Sidney, the Buzzcocks, James Brown and Liz Phair rather than the usual top 40/hip hop crap that I've started to become bored with.

And people started getting into it.

Well ... not really. But I was pretending that the crowd was getting into it.

Soon, one guy came up to the booth that goes by the nickname "The Chief".

I have no idea if the guy is a real chief or not. People call him "Chief". I call him "Chief". He calls himself "Chief". I'm guessing he might be a Chief.

The Chief says he wants to hear some classic 70's rock and roll.

Cool!

I've got Kiss and Ted Nugent and Black Sabbath and ....

No.

Not that crap.

The Chief wanted to hear claaaassic 70's rock.

"Hmmmmm," I hmmmed aloud. "Like what, Chief?"

Ohhhh ... Little River Band .... Toto .... Air Supply ... Pablo Cruise.

Wuzzah?!?

There's actually a name for that genre of music, Chief. It's called "Puss Rock".

Basically he wanted me to play music that would give housewives an extra lilt in their step as they mopped the bathroom floors.

So I James Taylored and Jackson Browned his ass off.

The rest of the crowd actually got into it as well.

...Buncha floor-mopping pusses.


I'm completely bummed.

I saw on CNN yesterday that Johnny Ramone is dying of prostate cancer.

I was such a huge fan of the Ramones and still am.

It just boggles my mind that when Johnny goes, three-quarters of the Ramones will then be in Punk Rock Heaven.

And since the drummer position was basically a rotating position for them anyway with a new brother filling the drum seat, the actual Ramones will be dead.

One of my favorite concerts ever was seeing the band at the Exit In in Nashville in 1979 right before "Rock and Roll High School" came out.

It was the first time I'd ever seen anyone with a mohawk and a girl wearing a leopard print blouse.

I know that sounds pretty weird, but yes ... there was a time in America when leopard print clothes was something you saw and actually took note of.

While it wasn't the greatest concert I'd ever seen (the B-52s in 1981, the Rolling Stones in 1996 and the 1977-era KISS tie for that dubious honor), it was definitely one of the more memorable concerts.

And now I can finally come to terms with the fact that I'll never see the Ramones again.

Is this what "getting old" is all about?

Will one of you feel sad in 20 years when Lance Bass dies from accidentally strangling himself while masturbating?

Doubtful.

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