Dee Dee Ramone, �Lobotomy: Surviving the Ramones� (with Veronica Kaufmann)
Geez, speaking of the death of memoirs, This played more along the lines of the majority of blogs I�ve seen, most of which are usually quite bad. This book primarily consisted of bitching about members of the band, along with various other people, most of whom are only mentioned by first name so I don�t know who the hell he�s talking about.
Dee Dee admits a lot of things � drugs, bad relationships, and basically being an all-around dumbass. And it�s all true. But he was also a junkie.
I�m sure most of us have been around the person in the bar who wants to tell us their entire life story and babbles on until we can find some excuse about needing to piss, only to sneak out the side door to get away from his ramblings. I�ve also been around junkies before, and they make even less sense.
This was like spending the last three days with a junkie � even worse this was a junkie who I haven�t seen in a while, and wanted to catch up on what he�s been doing since the last time we saw him.
Of course, now he�s dead, so I suppose some people miss these conversations.
It�s odd to read this, as Dee Dee wants to act like he�s the tough guy who doesn�t care about everybody else, yet he�s only willing to say �so-and-so� was being �a jerk,� with no contextual information on why this person was a jerk. It�s almost like he didn�t want to offend, while trying to be offensive. And then there�s the whole lack of focus junkie angle, so stories peter out with no resolution or follow up.
The editors were apparently on smack as well, as they let sentences like �Johnny Ramone had gotten into a fight with her husband� pass through unnoticed.
Even less punk is his on-again, off again relationship with his main girlie junkie fuck buddy, which comes off as a Tod Browning version of Forrest Gump. �There was really only one girl who I wanted to shoot speed in between my toes before we crossed the border, And that was Connie. Connie had stabbed me in the ass, but she said she was real sorry...�
The fun thing about this book was realizing that Dee Dee�s last show was in Santa Clara at the old dance club called One Step Beyond.
I was at this show. Murphy�s Law opened, and I very nearly missed it. I think this was the first show I ever bought tickets in advance for and I was waiting at my apartment in downtown San Jose for my ride to show up.
They didn�t.
I waited and waited, the time getting later and later, and everybody who was supposed to go with me weren�t answering their phones. Finally, at about 8:30, I loaded up eight lucky lager beers in various pockets of my army jacket (I love army jackets for that very purpose, by the way), hopped on a skateboard and very carefully balanced, started the trek from Downtown San Jose to Santa Clara.
Seven beers and an hour and a half later, I reached the club. I finished the last beer and made my way to the door. I could hear Murphy�s Law playing inside. The guy took my ticket and I whipped past him, only to be grabbed by my collar.
�You can�t bring that in here,� the hulking behemoth of a security guard said to me, pointing at my board.
I knocked his hand away and grabbed him by the shoulder. �I,� I said slowly, �was ditched, and skated here from Downtown San Jose.�
He looked at me for a second and then told me he�d check it in the coat check area for me, no charge. I headed directly for the pit.
And here�s the shortcomings of this book. Apparently, at this show, Murphy�s Law and the Ramones got into it. I can�t say anything about what happened, because that�s all Dee Dee has to say about it. They got into it.
I would have never known anything about a fight, as Murphy�s Law just about creamed themselves when they said the Ramones were coming on next. So maybe I should hunt around for a biography from Jimmy Gestapo of Murphy�s Law. But, remembering their lyrics, I bet his book would have even less structure.
Final note: Dee Dee, despite saying he loved drugs, also does the obligatory notes on how bad drugs are. Somehow, he seems like the wrong guy to attempt such after school special material. Now he�s dead from an OD. so then again...
Gabba gabba, we accept you, we accept you, one of us.
