Ryan "Mouth-hole" Cassano
This weekend I played host to a friend of mine, Ryan “Mouth-hole” Cassano, who was visiting from my beloved home town of Nevada City, California. He had come to investigate 1980’s video arcade games and literature concerning it for some future enterprise that I’m not at liberty to divulge but involves alcohol, supermodels, and rooms of plastic balls.
He met me after my hard but spiritually fulfilling shift at Amoeba Music Hollywood, waiting out the last few minutes of my shift by browsing the clearance section of soundtracks, where he found two items that made him squeal like a flame-covered, 500 pound, chocolate gorilla who sounded like a happy little girl: the soundtrack to the film Kill the Moonlight (which features some very early work by Beck), and to the documentary King of Kong: Fistful of Quarters.
The latter was serendipitous, as it was related to his arcade quest. In fact, he was traveling with a copy of that very film and insisted I watch it with him. I told him he wasn’t the boss of me and I can do whatever I want and I hate I hate him I hate him, then we drove back to my place for a home-cooked dinner of gimlets.
Just like Ma used to make!
I introduced him to the refined art of Tom of Finland, who’s work is so lovingly collected in my Taschen art book. He found it deeply educational and oftentimes frightening. Imagine my embarrassment when, half way through flipping through the book, I realized it was a souvenir photo album of my trip to the Anne Frank House! A common mistake, sure, but no less silly.
Puzzler: Can you tell which one is which?
After half an hour of explaining to him the difference between gay sex and the methodical genocide of six million people, we decided to go to bed.
I had a dream in which I was at a garden party and ended up befriending Petula Clark. We casually chatted about mutual interests while noshing on celery sticks and cucumber sandwiches. I woke up feeling refreshed and utterly disappointed by the profound wholesomeness of my subconscious. What happened to my suppressed anxieties of homelessness or the crippling self-doubt that’s sabotaged my sense of worth? Them’s always make for the juiciest dreams.
The next night was swell. We went to see Brett Shady and Golden Shoulders play in Hollywood. Both sets were awesome, and I eagerly await Brett Shady’s debut album, due to come out “in two months,” he said. He didn’t mention what it would be called, but let’s assume the title of it will be Mr. Brother’s a Rad Guy.
Once home, we went to bed again. (We’re totally into that.) Then I had a dream that an FBI agent was pinning me down and slamming coat hangers into my face!!! Way to go subconscious! Welcome back!
The next day we went to the LACMA and perused the Joseph Beuys exhibit, which makes me hungry every time, I guess because he incorporates so much butter into his work.
Just like Ma used to make!
Once home, we cuddled up with my boyfriend and watched King of Kong, which proved to be utterly gratifying. If you like things like that, be sure to check it out.
It came time for Ryan “Mouth-hole” Cassano to leave. We hugged and said goodbye. I mentioned that I would blog about his stay, and he told me to tell you "hi," but I told him it would be better if I assigned him an arbitrary, vaguely disturbing nickname which would hopefully stick. He didn’t like the idea at all, but that’s ol’ “Mouth-hole” for ya.
By now he’s descending into Sacramento International Airport, enjoying a stomach ache from eating a $9.00 Snickers bar from LAX. And isn’t that what family is all about?
No. But it’s a nice way to end a blog, right? And isn’t that what family is all about?