So I made my overtures, e-mails were sent and arrangements were made. It was decided that we would meet at The Rose of Australia. This is a bar near where I live and indeed the site of many a (two, that I've seen) Peabody performance.
It was looking to be a good day. Another chance to get out of the house was another chance to air out my canker sores. The problem was that I didn't bother organizing anything else. I stole a bunch of questions from Jimmy that he was going to ask some Swedish metal band with the ingenious idea of using them as the basis of my interview. I think that the interview would have gone well despite the inappropriateness of the questions. Question one was something like "So, Tobias, how cold is it over there?"
Alas, alack, it was not to come to pass because I discovered about five minutes before I left the house that I didn't even have a tape recorder.
I decided to show up anyway, buy Bluto a beer and apologise for wasting his time.
We decided that, as long as we were there, we might as well drink some. We shot the shit and drank and drank and shot the shit for a good four hours. We talked about politics and music and other assorted things.
We share similar politics - that only turkeys have right wings - and so it wasn't as much an argument or a discussion as it was a case of us agreeing fervently with each other. That's how it goes sometimes. Also, we may have talked about horses and Gascony, I really can't remember. That's how it goes sometimes.
I'd given up the hope of posting this interview, and indeed, I'd completely forgotten about it when, a few days later, I received this e-mail from Bluto:
just wanted to say that the other night was the best interview i've ever been involved with. thanks. i threw up on the way home. i think you should just vaguely write what took place that evening, take a few liberties with conversations etc etc... i'm sure it'll be better than any "formal" interview.
Actually, I'm not surprised that Bluto got sick. The man is very skinny; he practically eats like a bird. No really, he inserts his slender proboscis into wildflowers and consumes the sweet, precious nectar within. <--- Woo, joketastic!
I, myself, am not without an embarrassing tale to tell. I fell asleep on the train and woke up at Birrong station, which is six or seven stops away from mine.
For the uninitiated: Birrong is right near one of the many stabbing hearts of Sydney; places that, if so inclined, you can get stabbed with little to no effort on your part.
I was patiently waiting for my train when this girl came up to me and asked me when the next train was. I told her that it would be about 10 minutes and I showed her the timetable. She then pointed out that I was looking at the wrong timetable and that it would, in fact, be 20 minutes before the next train. Goddammit!
If there was a defining point to this day (if going to an interview with no questions and no tape recorder isn't defining enough) it would be when Bluto was buying more beer and the bartender told Bluto that he looked like the guy from the band Fuel. While Bluto was aghast, I was amused, and I informed the bartender that while they were different people, they were actually very close.
Later, when the guy came around collecting empty glasses, he asked Bluto how well he knew the singer from Fuel. I laughed my ass off and notched another notch on the belt of inebriate behaviour.
Also, in the toilet, I knocked on the door of the cubicle and told the guy inside to not worry because Jesus loved him. I laughed my ass off and notched yet another notch on the belt of inebriate behaviour.
I'm more belt than man.
Oh, and speaking of taking "liberties with conversations", I do remember this snippet of conversation:
Me: Would you say I'm a handsome man?
Me: Would you say I'm a sexy man?
Many thanks to Bluto for doing the "interview," the bar staff at The Rose, and many, many thanks to the rock band Fuel who provided a magical soundtrack to a magical evening.
Belvedere "let's never drink again" Jehosophat
and now I know which one I love
the half as pretty, twice as nice
Published on Tuesday, 8 April 2003
I hope that what I have written will be of some assistance.