I'm On A Mexican Radio pt II |
I understand just a little...
So anyway...
When I was in high school, doing that whole job at McDonalds and theater thing that was mentioned in the first part of this piece, I met this guy who would have little to no impact on my life other than he allowed me to pilfer his name for my own entertainment.
That may sound like a rather bland way to start a posting, but bear with me... it's a bland post. Maybe.
Willy Floyd was the day swing manager at McDonalds when I started way back in 1990. He only work there for a couple of weeks while I was there, but he was a rather entertaining person. He constantly talked about his dream of being a big rock star. He talked about it with anyone who would listen. Fellow employees, customers, bums staggering around in drive thru... anyone. Even people who didn't want to listen. He was a management type and at the time I hadn't learned to be disrespectful yet so I listened attentively. I think that's why he latched on to me for those few weeks.
One day, "Floyd" (as he was called) brough in a cassette tape of his band for me to listen to. I don't know how to describe what I heard other than it was bad. Not bad in a "no one wants to hear that" sort of way, but bad in a "oh my god I think my kidney just exploded" way. The sound was a mix of classical opera, hip-hop, bluegrass, tango, and the sound of falling cutlery. I think there was some singing in there, but it was hard to tell with my ears bleeding as they were. Floyd was so excited though. He was headbanging and doing the devil fingers thing that hair band fans seemed to think indicated "yes, I approve of this tune". He made me listen to it in his car and there was no escape. The song finally ended and I felt a sense of relief until he lit another cigarette, yelled "REMIX!" and the song started all over again but with the addition of a baby crying and accordian fills.
After the aural bludgeoning ended, he just looked at me, cigarette dangling from his lip, and said, "Dude... this is gonna be huge." I just nodded and ran back to work.
Floyd quit a few weeks later to concentrate full time on his band. McDonalds was much quieter for his leaving. Despite spending such a small amount of time with him, "Floyd" Willy Floyd left a lasting impression on me.
I buy the product and never use it
Two years later, Floyd W. Floyd was born. In the middle of government class, after recieving a note on a report I wrote from the teacher saying "If only you'd use your power for good instead of evil" (no lie), I began thinking back to Floyd. I started to think... someone with that passion for crap should be immortalized to some degree. What if I took Floyd's passion for being huge and my talent for... um... fabricating things... and merged them into the baddest concept you'd never heard of? It was never determined if Floyd W. Floyd was a front man for a band or was the name of the band itself, but I decided to see if I could create a "buzz" for a non-existant musical entity. I gathered some friends, many who I have become reaquainted with via Facebook, and we had a plan. We'd wallpaper our school with flyers we'd drawn up that simply said, "FLOYD W. FLOYD- COMING SOON". We put them everywhere. On people's lockers, classroom blackboards, even in the bathrooms. The buzz started.
Soon we had people around school asking "who/what was Floyd W. Floyd?"
We started to expanded.
More flyers. Now we had a concept to attach to it. This was Floyd's "comeback" tour. Coming from where? Why the asylum of course.
FLOYD W. FLOYD - BACK FROM THE ASYLUM - COMING SOON!
About this time the school authorities started a flyer crack down but it was too late. There were four or five of us with backpacks full of flyers and as soon as they'd take 'em down, we'd replace them with two more.
Then we decided to go big.
I grew up in a fairly small (by today's standards) town and we decided to get the whole town going. One night we went to the downtown area, to a small outdoor stage in the center of town. We were armed with several rolls of duct tape. On the back wall of the stage we made duct tape letters spelling FLOYD WAS HERE about 6 feet tall. We were trying to be clandestine, but the sound of ripping duct tape off a roll and giggling drew unwanted attention. We were going to do more, but realized someone across the street had spotted us and so we decided to split.
On our way back to the car (I still don't know why I opted to park the car 5 blocks from where we made the sign), we were stopped by a couple of missionaries who decided we looked like we should become good [insert whatever religion they were] right then and there. We were about to laugh and split until we saw two police officers coming up the sidewalk. Apparently the guy who spotted us, or heard the giggling called Johnny Law. The police stopped to talk with us saying they'd been called because of some pranksters in the area. Fortunately, the religious missionaries then attempted to convert the cops and the cops were convinced we were all missionaries and left us alone. I can actually say with a grin that I was "saved" by missionaries. Once anyway.
Back at the McDonalds I'd been putting up flyers in the windows that said, "FLOYD W FLOYD EATS HERE" I don't know what that'd say about a rock star if his favorite hangout was McDonalds, but I worked there and it kept me entertained. Until one day Liz (a manager type) grabbed one of the flyers and confronted a couple of us (let's face it, no one knew who was putting up the flyers but everyone knew who "might" have been doing it). She waved the the piece of paper she'd torn out of the drive thru window and said, "What's Floyd eat here?" We tried not to laugh and just said we had no idea. She just told us "I don't wanna see no more Floyd eat here!" We said ok and put up another flyer.
The whole thing seemed to have worked. At the mall we'd overhear random people talking about Floyd W. Floyd or asking if anyone knew anything about it. It was absolutely pointless, but amazingly fun. Willy Floyd may never have become the big star he wanted to be, but for a few weeks at least Floyd W. Floyd was the talk of the town.
I'd later use that moniker for a faux production company. Floyd W. Floyd Productions. In true to the legend fashion it never produced anything.
Months later I'd leave home and go off to college. Floyd W. Floyd would be coming with me it turns out.
