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An old drummer friend of mine joined us for the David Mead / Glen Phillips concert at The Great American Music Hall tonight. I’ll write about the concert over at N2Notes.com, but I have to share this story first.
This friend, let’s call him Eddie, showed up high. I’m not sure what he was on exactly, but it wasn’t just the pot pipe in his pocket that was controlling his behavior. He wandered off while we were waiting outside for the doors to open, apparently in search of his car… I called him after we found seats to let him know we were inside, and he didn’t seem to know who I was, or what I was talking about. He rambled about global warming, republicans, skiing, his ‘wife,’ the war in Iraq, and a laundry list of other topics. He asked me the time every 20 seconds, and I wasn’t sure if he had any idea where he was, or how to get back to us.
He did manage to make it to the show about a half hour into David Mead’s set. He mumbled under his breath about who knows what… all of which lead up to the following conversation:
Me: So, Eddie, what are you on?
Eddie: I’m high on love baby!
Me: Ok, but besides that….?
Eddie: Seriously, I’m high on my wife.
Me: Are you actually married?
Eddie: I’m thinking about getting the condom..err… diaphragm… whatever you call it.
Me: Diaphragm? What on earth does that have to do with getting married?
Eddie: Everything. It has everything to do with it!
Me: But, Eddie, isn’t your girlfriend already pregnant?
Eddie: Exactly why I need it.
A bit later:
Eddie: I think my dad is suffering from dementia.
Me: Apparently it’s contagious.
Drugs are bad, mmmkay?