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A blog of music reviews, movie reviews, politics that try to be but fail to be wingless, and assorted stuff. T'anks for reading. RSVP: regularsnipehunter@juno.com.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

One of the few self-mocking sexual fetishists I know of in movie history died today. Russ Meyer. Independent video stores citywide should expect to soon see an uptick in commemorative rentals and memorial DVD purchases.

I'd heard of him for years and years 'til I actually saw his movies - a little too ridiculous to be really sexy, but Meyer's mockery of pretty much everything he did somehow made his work stay in the mind more than most sex flicks. I actually spoke to Mr. Meyer once, about fifteen years ago, and said nothing brilliant. For some reason, I'd come across the phone number for RM Films and just called up. Waitaminute - I got his number from Factsheet 5! Anyhoo, a gruff voice
answered 'RM'. I said, "I'm calling this company handling the movies of.." He said "Russ Meyer, yeah, that's me." I ordered a catalog, and told him I sure didn't expect to talk to the CEO. Pretty cool of him to answer his own phone. He chortled and said, 'everybody needs a hobby, son'. I thanked him for the catalog and for pickin' up the phone, he said 'No prob'. A pleasure' (without a trace of a smirk) and we hung up.

Some story, huh? Some time I'll talk about my phone calls to Tuli Kupferberg of the Fugs and author Michael Lesy ("Wisconsin Death Trip").
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