tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360310613917048642.post4048817617431442587..comments2023-11-03T05:50:34.144-07:00Comments on A History of Bad Taste and Arena Rock: R.I.P. Black Cat Billt-o-nhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02694910380809285297noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360310613917048642.post-23203242815598629992011-11-30T06:14:39.251-08:002011-11-30T06:14:39.251-08:00To be updated when i can do so without being fired...To be updated when i can do so without being fired....t-o-nhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02694910380809285297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360310613917048642.post-70684552532534677062011-11-30T06:13:52.895-08:002011-11-30T06:13:52.895-08:00Good news! WCP reports that Black Cat Bill is sti...Good news! WCP reports that Black Cat Bill is still alive!t-o-nhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02694910380809285297noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1360310613917048642.post-13943035128095045862011-11-29T04:57:05.252-08:002011-11-29T04:57:05.252-08:00This is a beautiful set of rememberances.I had a v...This is a beautiful set of rememberances.I had a very similar casual friendship with Bill. In the early days he would take a break from the line and we would walk over to Macdonalds for a burger, He even came in the club once to see me play. I always looked forward to catching up with him and never minded if that kept me outside past the first couple songs of the set of any band I'd come to see. He was as much a part of the night out as anything. I also watched the same trajectory from charming, generous, devil may care, to fragile, paranoid and deeply scared. The stories about his serious ailments, his struggle to get out of the shelters and into a subsidized apt. His disappointment about how far away that apt ultimately was when it came through ... And how dangerous the neighborhood was. One of the last time we talked he was very low. He said young guys in his new neighborhood were stealing from him and I needed to help him get a big dog. At this time Bill was leaning heavily on his walker and likely living in housing that didn't allow pets. When I reasoned with him about why that might not be a good idea he began to cry. It made me feel helpless about the enormity of the challenges he was facing and the trajectory of choices that led us to that corner. I just held his hand till the wave passed and wished the answers were simple. I saw him other times when things were not so blue but he never fully regained that affable charm. And then, I didn't see him and felt that same catch of fear.<br />I can hear his voice in my head right now like he's sitting in my room with me now. If heaven existed, i half believe maybe he and I would see one another on more time on the way in. And maybe...since, for much of my life heaven has always been a great punk rock club, it will feel familiar and welcoming. I hope that's how he felt when he passed.Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com