||Is Carl The Lobsterman a real fisherman? I hope so.
I get this visual of him in his old 56' wooden Downeaster, yellow raincoat and cap glistening with fresh sea spray, standing at the helm. He's cutting through the icy, white capped Nantucket sea swells with a maniacal laugh and salt in his long white beard. He has music playing. What kind? The Rolling Stones. The BEST kind. It's the only music he knows that will keep the deck hands motivated to fight these harsh and unforgiving seas. The only kind of music that will keep the boys going while they winch up lobster pot after lobster pot with their cold, gnarled hands.
At night and when the seas are calm, he mores up to a can out on the canyons. Cuts the engines and goes down below. In his private quarters he peels off his wet slicker and eases his tired body into an old wooden chair at the dinning table. He belts down a healthy swig of Saba Spice Rum and presses play on an old battered tape deck he bought during his travels through the Orient long ago. It's Stripped Companion. The rum and "Honest I Do" relax him. He opens his laptop and dials in to the Internet via wireless modem. He logs on to the Rocks Off message board. He is connected with people like him. The posts inspire him. In his mind he is back on land. His thoughts drift away. Soon he is dancing with his beloved Peggy...
Suddenly there is a knock at the door. The small impish face of Gimp, his first mate, appears as the squeaking door is slowly opened.
"Is it awl' right I come in for a spell Cap'n?" says Gimp.
"Come on in Gimp my boy" The Lobsterman replies.
Carl was very found of the boy. Eight years earlier, Carl had saved him from an evil orphanage off the cost of Madagascar. But that is another sea and another tale....
For years now, Gimp would sneak down into the Captain's quarters and listen to the old man's tales. He especially liked it when the Captain would show him the scars of a long life lived hard: The nasty gash on his leg from a knife fight in Oakland '69 during Little Queenie. The swollen knuckles from beating Wavy Gravy to within an inch of his life at MSG '72 during Midnight Rambler. The hubcap sized welt on his back from slipping off his chair while doing the Hey Negrita dance in Paris '76....
Gimp was thirteen now so The Lobsterman pushed the bottle his direction. It was with squinted eyes and contorted face that Gimp swallowed the Rum. He smiled and said to the Captain, "Cap'n, tell me 'bout back in the day again. You know, THE day...."
After a long pause, The Lobsterman leaned back and began his well-worn tale. The tale that seemed to light Gimp's eyes afire...
"The day I bought Exile On Main Street, 'twas a bright day…and a day I shall not forget. I had just gotten back from 7 months in the North Atlantic and....
||Oh man, I just crapped my pants.....
|Carl The Lobsterman
||Hell, you don't even know about that time I was with old Scuppy Dexter. He had just retired from the Boston fishing fleets in the early 70's. We were trolling for mackeral on Casco Bay (just beyond my home of Bailey Island), when we saw 75 foot sail boat go down in less than a minute. We knew better than to be sailing where it was, because everyone knows that the major migratory path of Monarch Butterflies goes just southeast of Mark Island Monument. They hit that sail so damned hard that the "Stanley Booth" went down like young man packin a gun at a Stones concert.
||Bless you mein Captian!
Tonight, ya know, down in the basement bar here at Casa De Maxy, I will drink to you.
I am a bayman through and through.
I am a Stonesian soul just like you.
I am the man who plows the sea.
Are there any others like you and me?
We troll the canyons east and west.
And when I say it, its not in jest...
that I love you Carl, my Stonesilicious friend.
May your Brussels Affair never end.
Maxlugar 3/22/02 (Later in that same day + 2 beers)
From one old salt to another: FUCKING ROCK AND ROLL LOBSTERMAN!!!!
If anyone needs me I'll be down stairs at the bar. Doing what you say? ROCKING! That's what, you moron. I'll check in later.
I'll miss you.
Captain Maxlugar, Oyster Bay, NY
Keep this quiet and all but, ah, I heard on the news today that they nabbed some crazy ass Finn in Helsinki with some explosives getting on a plane.
And I'm thinking ....Nahhh - couldn't be could it?!
Nahhh .. that's nuts.
Our little marko
Not his style.
Time for a little nip of Jameson's I think.
Haven't had any in a while but I am hoping that if enough of us drink to excess tonight, it will somehow, in a cosmic sorta way, create this energy that will cause Mick to post all of the fucking details -- dates, cities, venues, times, groupies for each city, the scoop on the tunes, the box set, the old tunes the new tunes, who's on stage, who's playing what, the whole damn.
Y'know, I've been to three State Fairs and a hog fuck in my day. But I ain't never had as much fun as right now.
||I hear ya Nanky Von Nanky Nank......
Blessed are us.
The ones who "Get it".
Oh friggin' oh! Dear sweet baby Jesus, someone come to Casa De Maxy and Rock with me!!!
You are my only friends.....
But if you shall come...
I will tell you EXACTLY who Deep Throat is..
||oh nanky,you´re right,they did caught a guy with explosives!
A 19 year old boy,,,fucking mad!
||oh marko - I never suspected you for a minute.
ya crazy bastid!
my head hurts this morning
it was wined and dined, and chibatized, and Jamesonized, and now it is running slowwwwwww.
the soothing tones Tattoo You Side 2 are needed.
I'm giving up drinking for a while..............
Okay, I feel better.