Much as Tolkien was reticent to write a sequel to Lord of the Rings (itself, technically a sequel), I was reluctant to talk about the Legendarium of George any further. I thought I had said as much as was needed about this character and his adventures in 1980s Kitchener Ontario. Upon further reflection, I realized that the story of George was incomplete, even insofar as public information was concerned. If a story is private, it’s private, but if it was common knowledge in the neighbourhood, it’s safe to discuss.
RECORD STORE TALES #1184: The Legendarium of George: Gene Simmonsarillion
My sister and I hid in the garage. We opened up the milkbox/mailbox from the inside, and pried open the mail slot with a stick. Then, we waited. And waited. Some days, nothing would happen. Others would be like pure gold; like finding the hord of Smaug.
If we were patient enough, the bass playing would begin.
It was easy to identify certain basslines, such as “100,000 Years”. George would hit the first two notes – “Dm dmmmmmm…”, pause and hit them again just like Gene Simmons did on Kiss Alive! And then…
“I’M SORRY TO HAVE TAKEN SO LONG, IT MUST HAVE BEEN A BITCH WHILE I WAS GONE…”
George half-yelled, and half-croaked out the lyrics to the song. My sister and I sat there, laughing out loud but unheard by George. He was enveloped in song. If we had X-ray vision, we could have seen him in his room, headband holding his curls in place, wristbands on each arm, and absolutely mangling “100,000 Years”.
George was good entertainment. He’d boast about how great he was, but we got to hear him loud and clear.
Then, suddenly, his mother would shriek from the kitchen below.
“WILLIAM! SUPPER’S READY!”*
“I’ll be down when I’m done this song!” he’d yell back.
“WILLIAM! GET DOWN HERE NOW!”
We never found out why his mother called him “William”. That wasn’t even his middle name! But that was the name she screamed when it was supper time, no matter where he was. Usually he was down the street. Everyone always knew when it was supper time at George’s house.
His mother was a character too. One day she came over our house with a bag full of clothes that didn’t fit her or the kids anymore. Take ’em, she said. My mother threw this gross bag of clothes in the trash. A few days later, George’s mom asked for the bag back. “Oh I’m sorry, I donated it!” lied my mom wisely. Who gives away a bag of clothes and then asks for it back? George’s eccentricities were certainly genetic.
I remember some time around 1986 or 87, George was constantly on the shitlist with his parents. Even if I wasn’t evesdropping, I could always hear them arguing from my bedroom window. One afternoon I overheard his dad saying he was going to kick George out. That was the day I wrote my first ever original song. It was called “George Is Gone”, and it went something like this (to a jazzy rock beat).
“George is gone,
Yeah he’s really really gone,
George is gone,
Yeah he’s really really gone.”
[Repeat]
They never did kick out George, but he was around less and less as we got older. I ran into him once at the Record Store, shopping with his mom. That was the last time I ever saw him in person.
George may be gone, but thanks to the Legendarium of George, he’ll never be gone.
*Some recall that his mother yelled “GEORGIE!” when it was supper time. It was probably both that and “WILLIAM”!
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