The “Marty Parties” were always legendary. There could be two or three in any given run. They always involved bites, celebrity, and limon cello. Tonight, I’ll be the Stonerock.
The Stonerocks lived in a mansion. Maybe some would just say a “big house”, but to me, that was a mansion. I remember the party where Bob pulled me aside to show me his pet project – a sound system with finely tuned acoustics and speakers. The speaker cabinet has hand crafted, made of wood and such an irregular shape that I thought it was created by the mind of Dr. Seuss.
“It’s calibrated to mimic the acoustics of famous performing arts venues,” he explained, pressing a button that began playing Mozart’s 25th, which had been cued for this moment. “This is what it sounds like in Carnegie Hall.” He pressed a button, the music’s quality altered. “This is what it would sound like in the Paris Opera House.” And so on. Bob was a genius.
There was always a magical moment – the limon cello would start and the games would begin. The laughs, the silliness, Tommy keeping time on a wristwatch with a second hand — now just snapshots of memories. Little joyful clouds of moments that float through my mind with echoes of laughter. Oh and that infamous battle cry … “Just fuck a horse, dude”.
That’s all you need to remember.
Just fuck a horse. Dude.