
I've had several requests for these, so here goes.
So I'm in Cleveland, staying at the Ramada Renaissance downtown. I get up early one morning to go grab some breakfast. I hop into the elevator and head downstairs by myself. The elevator stops and a guy walks in and leans on the wall opposite me. He has on shades and looks really familiar. Here's the conversation:
Me: "Man, you look just like David Crosby."
David Crosby: "Yep."
Me: "You are David Crosby aren't you?" (I'm quick like that)
David Crosby: "Yep."
So I'm in Cleveland, staying at the Ramada Renaissance downtown. I get up early one morning to go grab some breakfast. I hop into the elevator and head downstairs by myself. The elevator stops and a guy walks in and leans on the wall opposite me. He has on shades and looks really familiar. Here's the conversation:
Me: "Man, you look just like David Crosby."
David Crosby: "Yep."
Me: "You are David Crosby aren't you?" (I'm quick like that)
David Crosby: "Yep."
What I really wanted to ask was, "How the hell are you still alive?"
At that point I basically talk about everything he's ever done, inquire how his son is doing musically and even throw in a question about him providing semen so Melissa Etheridge can have a baby. All this on a flight down 4 or 5 floors. He signed something for me in the lobby, patted me on the back, and shook my hand. I said thanks, he said no problem at all, and was off.
True story.
At that point I basically talk about everything he's ever done, inquire how his son is doing musically and even throw in a question about him providing semen so Melissa Etheridge can have a baby. All this on a flight down 4 or 5 floors. He signed something for me in the lobby, patted me on the back, and shook my hand. I said thanks, he said no problem at all, and was off.
True story.
that is strange --- ez
ReplyDeleteI bet Mr., err Ms. Etheridge had to milk him like a snake...
ReplyDelete