From Bottle Rockets to Stevie Wonder

During my initial Hollywood summer, Thursday nights marked the beginning of the weekend. My roommate, Jimmy "The Stick" and I, would become giddy with excitement like two married men going to a bachelor party. 

"I'll bring the one dollar bills, you get the lube, booze and cigars.  Oh and by the way... DON'T FORGET THE FEBREEZE! My wife had my balls last time I came home smelling like hooker."

We were in for some good old fashioned debauchery and we knew it.  Our drinking ritual began at 8 o'clock with two double shot R-BAVS(Red Bull and Vodka).  "Here's to being single, seeing double and sleeping triple. Klinky klinky, drinky drinky!" 

By the time 10pm rolled around, we already had our game faces on.  That's when we'd call the taxis and tell them we lived at the apartment complex next door.  We had already abused our taxi privileges to the point where they would no longer pick us up at our own address.  When the taxis arrived we'd pile in the back with ten bottle rockets in one hand and a Coor's Light in the other.  Apparently taxi drivers don't give an F about what you do in the back of the cab.

"Stick... Gimme me the lighter."

"Wait til we get going dude."

"What?  Why?"

"Good point.  Here you go."

Jimmy would always do an unnecessary fake cough to cover up the sound of the lighter as we lit the fuse.  The smell of the burning gun powder filled the cab as sparks poured from the tiny rocket engine.  We would curl our arms out the window to hold the bottle rocket over the roof of the cab.  I've always loved the whiz bang of a bottle rocket being launched from my own hand.  It makes me feel like an American.

That night we were going to THE hot club at the time, Prey.  We were usually all out of bottle rockets by the time we got to the club but Stick had a few extra that night.  We decided it would be a good idea to light them off in line.  A huge bouncer came up to us immediately afterward.  He was flabbergasted to say the least.

"Get outta line!"

"What?  Why?"

"I just watched you shoot off illegal fireworks!  You think I'm gonna let you in now!?"

"Well that wasn't us sir.  We didn't do that.  We would never do that."

We forgot that he'd seen us do it.  Stick and I still acted offended when we were physically removed from line, bottle rockets still sticking straight out of our pockets. "You couldn't pay me to go to this club!  It's too trendy and played out...So two weeks ago."

The night was far from over and the problems had just begun.  We shot the remaining bottle rockets at our friends across the street so we wouldn't be tempted to use them at another innapropriate time.

Given our location, there was only one option to still salvage the night...Koi.  Koi is a very swanky sushi restaurant that also has a bar and it's directly across the street from Prey.  Little did we know that one of my all time favorite blind musicians was there.  I'm not talking about Ray Charles people.

When we rolled in, the joint was empty so it was easy to strike up a conversation with the bartender.  "You guys aren't very busy tonight," I observed.  "Well Stevie Wonder's eating in the back." Loose lips sink ships and the S.S. Wonder was dining at a secluded table near the north-east entrance of the patio.  I couldn't believe how easily he gave up such privy info.

The music of Stevie Wonder touches my soul in a way that I can only express through dark glasses, braid extensions and traditional African garb.  You could safely say I'm a fan.  By the way, fan is short for fanatic.  Keep that in mind.

I wandered around the labyrinth of Koi's outside patio in a drunken haze until I came close enough to see Mr. Part-time Lover himself.  My mind began racing with lyrics to all those classic songs we know and love.  What started as softly humming "My Cherie Amor" grew into full-on belting. "Gonna keep on tryin', til I reach the highest ground!"  It was my own private tribute to the man who brought us "Jungle Fever." 

Before you could say "Ribbon in the Sky," another boheamoth bouncer was in my face.  "Step away from Mr. Wonder's table."  If you think I was in any condition to humour such a request at that point, you must be "Living for the City" crazy.  I simply answered with a question. "Do you have a harmonica?"

"Time to go."

"How do you expect me to play the solo from "For Once in my Life?"

Enter Stick stage left.  If there's one thing that chaps the Stick's hyde it's  a staunch liberal.  He's also not particularly fond of people getting in my face.  The Stick is my sworn protector and behaves accordingly.

While Stick distracted the bouncer I knew I only had one chance to reach out to Stevie with song and gain his gratitude.  It had to be a song that could break down walls and make him realize that hey... We're all in this thing together. 

As I was dragged out by the back of my t-shirt I sung Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder's breakthrough duet. 

Ebony and ivory

Live together in perfect harmony

Side by side on my piano keyboard

Oh lord, why don't we?

They say that when you're blind your other senses are heightened.  I don't know if Stevie heard me sing "Ebony and Ivory," but I know he heard his two bottle rocket salute from the street.  With my fist pumped high in the air I screamed "I love you Stevie!"