Art that requires skill, mountain bikes, over-the-top hot rods, motorcycles, drumming, swing dancing, foo-foo coffee, cartoons, and the extraordinary woman who thought I was okay enough to marry. Not necessarily in that order.
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Bill Bruford, Bill Watterson, and Bill the Cat. All at once. In my living room. I think we'd all get along swimmingly.
I'd also like to meet Rick Astley. Not only because he's currently the lord of ironic e-culture, but also because:
Dinosaur bands who were 40 years ahead of their time 30 years ago: King Crimson, Yes, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd.
Sometimes nothing does me up like a heapin' helpin' of The Chemical Brothers or The Crystal Method.
I've been known to sneak in some Rage Against the Machine between long bouts of MC 900 Ft. Jesus. A smattering of Beastie Boys, Toad the Wet Sprocket, Radiohead, and Tortoise appears in my CD collection. And pretty much anytime Robert Fripp even so much as LOOKS at a guitar, I'm there.
All movies made after the beginning of Apocalypse Now, and before the end of it.Actually, Fight Club and American Beauty are in the same league.
No TV. Can't stand the blasted thing anymore.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig; The Prophet, by Khalil Gibran; Iron John by Robert Bly.
If you have a hero, look closer; you've diminished yourself in some way.