New Zealand’s Love & Pop interviewed me last week about This Music Leaves Stains. Could be the best conversation I’ve had in a public forum about the book. Take a looky-loo:
Less recently I curated an oral history of the Eddie Murphy disaster Vampire In Brooklyn for Hopes & Fears. Did you know it’s possible to smoke so much pot your eyes change size? Behold:
As always, thank you for your support and patronage. Namaste.
All that talk about Eddie Murphy in my last post reminded me of the time I found a copy of what I believe was the shooting script for Eddie’s 1995 misfire Vampire in Brooklyn in a pawn shop/thrift store in Orange City, FL. It looked pretty official—it was all fat and Hollywood-looking, with Charles Q. Murphy’s name typed right on the front. They wanted seven dollars for it; being extraordinarily broke at the time, that seemed like six dollars too many. I decided to save my hard-earned cash for another glorious, greasy feast at the neighboring Arby’s.
I often lie awake at night and wonder what the hell I was thinking. In retrospect, a copy of the Vampire in Brooklyn script strikes me as a much smarter long-term investment than a box of curly fries. Think of how much more interesting my life would be if I had that script. It would be an incredible conversation piece. I’d be the toast of my apartment complex. I’d earn the instant respect of my peers. More importantly, I’d finally have an heirloom worthy of the Greene name, something I could pass on to my children and my children’s children.
Goddammit, I really dropped the ball on that one. I could be on Easy Street right now. Instead, all I got are a few severely clogged arteries and a mountain of self-loathing crushing my weak, pathetic little heart. Oh well. At least I touched the Vampire in Brooklyn script. I’m sure that’s warded off some horrible disease that was bound to afflict and cripple me otherwise.