I was watching a documentary tonight on Northern Ireland hosted by Henry Rollins. It made me think of the letter I once received from Henry.
Back in the early nineties I was in a psuedo-band in college. We called ourselves “ThE BoB WaLtErS” (long story, don’t ask). My friend Ken Meekins and myself would get together, write songs, record them on his multi-track, and occasionally play for friends and partys. We were pretty into Henry Rollins. Henry is one INTENSE dude. If you’re not sure who Henry is, I suggest you check out Henry’s site.
Henry is a bit of a modern day renaissance man. Part musician, part poet, part author, part orator, part actor,… Part Animal, Part Machine. In summer of 1995 Henry’s band, “Rollins Band”, was on tour and Ken and I landed tickets and we were psyched. It was at some small park in Brandywine, MD. Helmet, Suasage (a.k.a. Primus), and some local bands were also on the bill. Ken and I trek out the the show. Nice day. My memory is a little fuzzy on details but about noon or so the first band, a local one, came on. Round about the same time some nasty thunderclouds came rolling in. The skies opened up biblical style. It rained, and rained, and rained for hours. The first band finished their set but then the show was put on hold to ride the weather out. We stuck it out though… Hey, this was Henry!!! There was not a square millimeter on my body that was dry. Well, a few hours of torrential rainfall later, it stops. Blues skies, birds chirping and everything. Moments later, some roadie type steps up to the mic and tells us the show is canceled. Man were we pissed. No, more disappointed. We really dug Henry and he is super intense onstage.
Weeks later, Ken came out to visit me when I was living in Salibury, MD. We planned for another few days of writing and recording. During a break we were goofing around on my computer and checked out Henry’s website. It used to have a form on there to send an e-mail to Henry. We got the bright idea to write Henry an e-mail and read him the riot act for cancelling the show in Brandywine. It was totally innocent and sophomoric in nature. We put stuff like “Why did you have to cancell the show? Were you home eating soup with your mommy?” I think we may have called him a “punk-ass bitch” too. The form required the entry of your snail-mail address for promotional mailers and stuff. We entered “Bob Walters” in the name field and my home address. We sent the e-mail, giggled, and never thought another thing about it. A few weeks go by and I stroll out to the mailbox to pick up the mail. There is an envelope addressed to “Bob Walters” with my address and a big fat 2.13.61 logo. I open it up and inside is a single piece of paper torn from a spiral bound notebook with the following written on it…
 Henry Rollins Envelope |
” Bob. Here’s what happened. The promoter Seth Horowitz was not prepred for the weather even when he promised he would be. By the time it was for Helmet to go on, the power generators were submerged in water. The stage was mostly metal and the risk of bands & crews getting fried. Seth really blew it for us. We were there all day into the night waiting to play. It was the last show of the tour with Sausage & Helmet and we were all looking forward to hitting it. I(t) would have been #80 for the year. To leave that place w/o playing sucked. Next time you see me, call me what you called me in your letter and we’ll se how it goes. -Henry Rollins” |
 My Letter from Henry Rollins |
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