Billy and I attended the same boarding school, and we have remained
friends for over 50 years. He, along with several other neighborhood pals and I
came up with the unique Buffalo tradition of raffling off tickets to shoot a
television set on New Year’s Day. That long standing Buffalo tradition endured for
over a decade and became a rather large gathering. By the end, the event
involved enough firepower to take over a small country.
Many years ago, I attended Billy's wedding to his wife Avra in Boston, and
that celebration is etched in my memory. I and my best friend Bob rented a
yellow Lincoln Town car, decorated it with pink pompoms (classy huh?), and
ferried wedding guests around Boston. We used that car during the bachelor
party and I distinctly remember driving down into Boston’s notorious combat
zone and double parking the car while we sampled some of the local “dancing”
establishments. The car looked as if it belonged to a pimp, and nobody touched
it. Throughout that weekend, much of it a foggy blur, I also remember one of
the other neighborhood friends, sitting in the back seat yelling over and over,
“NO GUTS NO GLORY” as I nervously attempted to weave through congested Boston
traffic.
One thing Billy and I have shared throughout the years is our love of
good music. An excellent guitarist and pretty good keyboard player, Billy has
made a good living producing music and video on a professional level. Over the
years, when we have had the opportunity see each other, we inevitably break out
the guitars and jam, tag team playing whatever songs we’ve penned. He came up
with the musical arrangement for my hit single (sarcasm intended) How Come it Hurts When I Pee? and, to
this day we get a laugh – we certainly make each other laugh - whenever we dust
off that old chestnut. When their first son
Max was born, Billy and Avra nicknamed him Noopy, and I wrote a parody of the
McCoy’s hit Hang On Sloopy entitled Hang Ten Noopy. I wonder where that
recording went, it might have been the worst song I ever recorded.
Now that I and my peers are rapidly approaching 60 years of age, it is
comforting to note that some of us still go way back. I lost Frank last week,
and of late my mortality has been haunting me. What is my legacy, if I die
tomorrow will anyone remember me, have I done any good in my life … that sort
of thing. One of the songs I played in last week’s jam session with Billy was Scrapbook, a song about summoning the
peaceful, good moments in one’s life, in order to cope with the ever shifting
sands. My most recent song, which I just completed, is a dark song called The Edge, about the regrets of
an addict. While it is largely written from imagination, everything I write
has a piece of me in it.
Certainly Billy and I have lived through our share of life’s drama. We may
have achieved some success, inevitably we have stumbled, but throughout it all,
we have remained friends. Though he is now known as Roy to most of his
non-Buffalonian friends, he will always be Billy to me, and I will always be
“Hyman” or “Grinder” to him. Don’t ask.
Sometimes old friends are the best friends, and today I remind myself to
be thankful for all of them.
How come it hurts when I pee?
Darlin’ please tell me did you do this to me.
I appreciate the love you spread unselfishly,
I just hope what you’re spreadin’ don’t begin with a ‘G’ …
Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2014 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
1 comment:
Good one - saw Ned, Vince, Peter, Doug this week, have been thinking of you!
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