What's Wrong With Steve?

Dearest Steve,

Color me impressed with your Iago reference in a recent piece of sage

advice. I’m a high school English teacher; it will be really helpful to be

able to tell these adolescents that since guys like Steve Gorman think

reading is cool, then damn it, they should too. What are some of your

favorite tomes that have kept you occupied on those long trips on the road?

Any books you think high schoolers would dig? Keep on keeping on.

Freaky Tall Guy from Boston

Dearest FTGFB

You aren’t Robert Parrish, are you?  Because if you are, then feel free to color me impressed right back at ya, big man!

Either way, I am happy to report that I do in fact find reading “cool”.  I also find it to be a necessary skill, hobby, or passion for anyone who envisions spending years of their life locked inside a tour bus surrounded by all the standard hoopla of a rock n roll band on the road.

Few things free the soul, cleanse the spirit, and stir inspiration like a great book.

I am currently reading “Ironweed” by William Kennedy, “Facing the Music” by Larry Brown, and “The Family”, by Jeff Sharlet.

Hunter S. Thompson is a constant presence in my life, and I have decided that anything Michael Chabon, Matt Taibbi, or Chuck Klosterman writes is worth reading at least twice.

Feel free to pass this list on to your students.  They should be able to handle any of this stuff.

(Also, rest assured, my feelings won’t be hurt if you think it will impress your students more by saying you got this list from one of the Black Eyed Peas.  I saw them in an airport once…I don’t think they’d mind.)

SG

Hi Steve,

I have decided that I definitely want to be in a rock & roll band. The bond

that I will form with my fellow band mates will be a cherished brotherhood

that will last my entire life. I will get to travel the world, and enjoy

the company of women that I would otherwise never experience were I not in a

rock & roll band. I’ll have moments onstage that can be described with

words like “transcendent”, and the connection between my band and our

audience will be truly special.

Unfortunately, after trying for a few months, I have discovered that playing

a musical instrument is too hard. I simply don’t have the talent for it, but

I want to travel the world and have “transcendent” moments on stage. Any

advice?

Mike

Mike

Don’t sweat it.  You needn’t be a musician to accomplish your lofty and admirable goals.

There are many thousands of men like yourself who, as I write this, are traveling the world, enjoying the company of otherwise unattainable women, and sharing “transcendent” moments with their co-workers.

And here’s the best part: You can join them more easily that at any other time in history, thanks to the mind boggling loosening of membership requirements in our post 9/11 world.

Criminal record? Hell, who hasn’t made mistakes? Tax dodger? Who can make sense of the paperwork? No diploma? No diproblem!

As long as you’re breathing air and walking upright, you’ll be fine.

Now go get ‘em, champ!  And I thank you in advance for your service!

SG

http://www.navy.com/findarecruiter/

Steve

I just got married and I am a starving musician.  My wife just went on a three day road trip with me to see me perform and said “honey, with this music thing, you are on your own”.  Should I continue to play or should I move on and just paint houses the rest of my life?

Baked in Boston

Baked

Knowing absolutely nothing about you, your wife, your relationship, your talents as a musician or as a house painter, I feel uniquely qualified to offer you advice.

And my advice is this:  Get over to MIT as quickly as possible and hire someone to build you a time machine.  They’re all wicked smart over there, so it’s just a matter of finding the right guy.  (Did you see “Good Will Hunting”? Everyone at MIT is just like the main character in the movie, but without the janitorial skills, violent outbursts of self loathing rage, and attractive English girlfriend.)

Anyway, get in that time machine and go back to the not so distant past.  Like, say, about five minutes before you asked this woman to marry you.  When you get there, mention to yourself that it’s probably a good time to broach the whole “starving musician or house painter” situation.  Sure, the ensuing conversation might not be very pleasant, because often times things go awry when reality is introduced to romance.  But, keep in mind – a little gut wrenching on the front end can save a lot of alimony on the back end.  Good luck!

SG

Hi Steve

The faces you make behind the kit are mesmerizing.

But when it’s time for “Whoa Mule”, I’m downright frightened.

Vivster

Vivster

You’re frightened?  How the hell do you think I feel?  I have to leave the security of my seat behind the drum kit and come out front with nothing but a djembe to defend myself….you can’t imagine how stressful that is.

Sure, I usually get a great big “STEEEVE!” chant from the audience, and that’s always nice.  And yeah, it’s nice to literally take center stage after years of figuratively doing so.  And, of course, it’s helpful to finally get an appreciation of just how truly sick one must be to willingly put themselves out there up front night after night.

But, ultimately, it’s every bit as unpleasant for me as it obviously appears to be.  Thanks for pointing out that I haven’t exactly maintained a solid poker face these last two years.  I’ll be sure not to think about any of this next time we play it.

SG

SG

I was raised in Nashville, but moved to NYC a few years ago. In my time here, I’ve yet to find authentic Southern eats that can truly satisfy me and bring back those halcyon days. Suggestions?

Withering Away, Hungry in New York

WA, Hungry in NY

I have been in your shoes, friend, and I know very well the longing you feel.

Throw a rock in NYC and you’ll hit a good slice of pie.  (For my Southern brethren, I am talking about pizza here.)  It’s a fact.  It’s also a fact that no one in the South can make a slice that compares with the one your rock just struck.  Why is that?  Is it the tap water?  Really?  Of course not.  A slice of pie just tastes better in New York than anywhere else.

Southern food in New York City is as ludicrous a concept as a crepe avec jambon et fromage in Austin, Texas – which, incidentally, I tried just the other day.  The guy, who was in fact French, put forth a fine effort, to be sure, but it was hardly the same as a crepe you might find at any run of the mill crepe cart near the Centre Pompidou.

We’re simply talking about the natural order of things here.

I look ridiculous when I put a guitar on.  Seriously.  It’s disturbing.  If you had somehow made it through life without ever having seen a human play a guitar, and then saw me strap one on, you’d immediately know that something was amiss.  No matter how technically precise and emotionally charged my playing might sound, if you see me playing that guitar, you’ll again feel truly unsatisfied.

Some things just are what they are.

If you need a proper Southern meal, here’s a website that can help:

www.travelocity.com

Safe travels!

SG

Dear Steve,

A friend of mine turned me on to this amazing column of yours–and well, to be honest I never bothered with the Black Crowes, but I read your entries and thought, “hey, an intelligent drummer, maybe I should check the music out.” I am now a confirmed fan for life. (You should ask for a raise).

Here’s my dilemma:

I have been sober for almost 8 years. Let’s just say I had a problem. Well, this past weekend I had a group of guests check in at my Inn–all in their 50’s–and well, I guess I would say that they were alcoholics. I observed them closely over the weekend and really enjoyed watching them get completely shitfaced basically from early morning until they passed out at various times starting about 8PM. In my early days of sobriety I would have condescendingly pitied them and perhaps even prayed for them, but I must say this weekend I noticed that they had a blast and really didn’t give a shit about alcoholism or the fact that they might die 15 years earlier than the average idiot. They made alcoholism look fun. Is this a possibility??? Is eight years too long a period of time to NOT have a drink? Should I have a drink? Should I go to an AA meeting? I hate AA meetings. Please help.

Thanks,

Not dazed/Very confused

ND/VC

I have given your email an awful lot of thought.

I wish I had something humorous to say about addiction, but I don’t.

What I do have is the greatest respect for people who are afflicted with this disease and who are working through programs of sobriety to manage their illness and change their lives.

Eight years of sobriety is something to be very proud of, and I applaud you for hanging in there for what I am sure at times has been quite difficult.

I wish you many more years of continued success.

Best,

SG

Steve

In nearly twenty years of intense fandom, I’ve never heard or read a fellow devotee drag your name through the mud.  Every single member of your band -past, present, future (?) – endures verbal vitriol from the die-hards on a semi regular basis.  But never Gorman.  What’s your secret?

Also, could you do me a favor and reunite jellyfish?  I’d prefer Faulkner on guitar, but Dover is certainly no slouch.  Thanks in advance!

Bob

Bob

My secret is just that, Bob – a secret.  If I were to shed even the slighest light on my proven strategy to retain “favored nation status” from the die hards,  it could trigger an erosion of the unadulterated and unconditional love that I have so long enjoyed.

And let’s face it, Bob – if the Gorman love goes, what then?  What does that leave us with?  Makes one shudder to even think about it.

As for Jellyfish, you’ll have to look elsewhere for help.  The last thing I need is those freaks reforming to shove it in everyone’s faces that they were the best band of the early 90’s.  Jerks.

SG

Hey Steve,

Tsunamis, hurricanes, typhoons…..what’s the deal?  Aren’t they really all the same thing?  Thanks, man.

Dave

Dave

No, not exactly.

A “tsunami” is a series of waves caused by the displacement of a large volume of a body of water, such as an ocean.

The term “tsunami” is of Japanese origin, incidentally, and means, “harbor wave”.

This is very different from a tropical cyclone, which is what both “typhoons” and “hurricanes” are.  Which term is applied is simply a geographical consideration: “typhoon” for a tropical cyclone forming in the northwestern Pacific Ocean – or “hurricane” for a tropical cyclone forming in the Atlantic Ocean, the Caribbean Sea, or the eastern Pacific Ocean.

So, meteorologically speaking, two of the three are, in fact, the same thing.

But, Dave, I am not a meteorologist.  I am an American.  And, as an American, I can assure you that there is a huge difference between typhoons and hurricanes.

To wit:  Whenever I see on the news that a typhoon has occurred, my mind immediately races through the possibilities for dinner that night – Sushi, Korean BBQ, Pho, whatever.  End of story.

But, when a hurricane hits…well, let’s just say there’s a little more involved.

First of all, I’ve already had to hear about it coming for like a week.  The minute some little wisp of wind somewhere deep in the Caribbean shows the first sign of growing into even a harmless little tropical storm, it’s on!

And, it’s always the same – a nonstop, round the clock, cable news orgy of gluttonous ratings grabbing.  It’s inescapable.  Hundreds of hours spent dissecting the hurricane’s name, its ever changing path, its ever changing strength, etc.

Once they start on the whole “Can Hurricane Santo possibly match the legendary Galveston Hurricane of 1900 for sheer destruction and loss of life” crap, I am bubbling over with some serious bloodlust, let me tell ya!

By the time that sucker hits land,  I am READY to see some destruction.  I am READY to see some devastation. And do I get it?  Hardly ever.  Usually, all I get is one reporter after another expressing “relief” that the loss of life and property damage wasn’t greater.  Yeah, right.  Talk about a tease.  That damned Al Roker spends a week fluffing me up and then…..pfffft.

Sure, they’ll eventually cut to the stock footage of that reporter in the yellow slicker getting blown down the street during Hurricane Camille about a thousand years ago, and that’s always good for a laugh, I suppose.

And of course, there’s always an uneasy “can you believe an Arabian horse pageant dude actually ran FEMA” chuckle anytime we hear someone reference the whole, “heckuva job, Brownie!” thing, but that’s really all you can count on anymore.

It’s always a disappointment.

It’s kind of like the Super Bowl, now that I think about it.  Two weeks of intense buildup and speculation, and then…nothing!  It’s almost always over by halftime!  I mean, how many of them have actually been good, competitive games?  5?  6?  There’s been 43 of the damned things!  Ridiculous.

But you wanna know the really cool thing?  I was born in August of ‘65, which means I was one year old when the first Super Bowl was played.  And so, if anyone ever asks me which Super Bowl is being played this year, I always know the answer!  It’s the same as my age!

So, there you go.

Thanks for writing.

SG

Hi Steve,

I am a fairly new fan of the band; first show was in 2007 (Borgata) and most recent (14th show) was at Penn’s Peak.  I know I am a neophyte, but I deeply appreciate every show, and my music knowledge continues to grow.

My fiance, Shawn, is a HUGE fan, especially of yours.  We actually met you briefly when you left the first night of last year’s three night run in Philly.  Shawn is also a huge fan of Luther’s.

I, on the other hand, am smitten with Sven.   I had the fabulous opportunity of shaking his hand before he boarded the bus at Ram’s Head (Baltimore) a few weeks ago.

So, here’s my question — I make sure to position myself near Sven’s side of the stage whenever I can (sometimes Shawn wins and we are center stage so he has equally good views of you and Luther) — no matter where I am I make sure to “cheer” for Sven and yell his name; however, he NEVER even glances my way.  Heartbreaking!  Can he really not hear me, or is he merely ignoring me?

Thanks in advance for your help with this query.

Shana

Shana

I am sorry to say that Sven is, in fact, ignoring you.  That’s just how he rolls.

I wouldn’t take it personally, though.

Sven hasn’t spoken to me since the summer of 2006, and even then it was only because he overheard me mispronounce both “Gemeinschaft” and “Gesellschaft” as I was humorously categorizing each member of the band and crew according to my admittedly shallow understanding of Ferdinand Tonnies’ definition of human association.  Can you imagine my embarrassment?  I never made that mistake again, I assure you!  Man, I’ll never forget the chill in the room as he corrected my mistake (soft “G” on both words – what an idiot!) and nonchalantly dismissed what he called my “schweinzunge” attempts at philosophical humor.

Oh, well, live and learn.

But, with that in mind, I think it’s probably best that you maintain your current level of interaction with Sven.

Vorsicht!

SG

Steve,

My wife recently gave birth to our first children, boy/girl twins.

When she asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I told her I wanted to go on a snowboarding trip with her.  She refuses to leave the twins overnight at either grandparent’s house therefore, no dice.

How can I convince her to go on a short getaway?

Jade

Jade

You can’t.  And, you shouldn’t even try.

If she’s not ready, she’s not ready.  End of story.

Your opinion on things, by the way, won’t matter again for quite a while, and there’s a good reason for that:  IT DOESN’T.

Don’t put yourself between a mama bear and her cubs.  You won’t like it.

Now get back to diaper duty.

SG

P.S. – Congratulations!