A story about frank black
i saw him at the catalyst in santa cruz around 1995. i’m pretty sure lyle workman was on lead that night. anyway, after the show i was standing at the top of the stairs (the same stairs mentioned in my modest mouse story by the way) and i saw good ol’ chuck movin’ across the floor in my direction. he passed by me & i turned and chased after him saying ‘frank! frank!’ he ignored me. i caught up to him & put my hand on his shoulder saying ‘frank!’ again. he looked over his shoulder briefly while still walking. dissed. he just kept walking. that was it. he went out to the sidewalk and looked around intently before returning to his lair behing the stage. i was completely shut down by the man. ever since then i’ve been too excited that my hand touched his sholder to realize (until now) how lame i was and how rude he was. what a crummy story.
