I remember The Condo Pad well having dropped Marc Alghini off there a few times. Wish I knew Billy better. But I wasn’t in a band & suffered from anxieties of my own including imposter syndrome. Don’t know if Mr. Ruane had anything to do with it but there was a tradition of punk bands playing Norfolk Prison going back to at least 1979. I have no idea why. https://youtu.be/CDwoXeGh87Q?si=s5q5qn51er2Ib3xY
I lived next door to Billy Ruane during his brief tenure at Exeter. He was terrible to live next door to, as he was oblivious to everything that was not what he was obsessed with. And if what he was obsessed with was Wild Man Fischer singing “Merry Go Round,” that meant that you were going to hear Wild Man Fischer singing “Merry Go Round” ALL. NIGHT. LONG. Our gym teacher, Ralph Lovshin, knew not what to make of Billy, either. One time Billy showed up for gym wearing loafers and no socks. Mr. Lovshin sent him back to his dorm room to put on his gym shoes. Billy returned wearing black argyle socks, and one gym shoe (the other foot just had the sock). I don’t think Mr. Lovshin had ever encountered anything like that before. He was literally speechless. I never connected with Billy (his obliviousness always felt entitled -a word I didn’t know at the time- to me), but I was always impressed with that level of zero fucks being given.
Wait, you had "something ambitious for Substack this week"? And this wasn't it? I love hearing stories about Billy Ruane. I pass by the Middle East every week, and he's the first face that comes to mind.
Great story, John. I miss Billy every day. As for the "literal fistfuls of Vivarin" that "would be fatal amounts of caffeine for mere mortals"... Umm... that's pretty much why he died when he was only 52? Though I suppose it's amazing he lived as long as he did.
I remember The Condo Pad well having dropped Marc Alghini off there a few times. Wish I knew Billy better. But I wasn’t in a band & suffered from anxieties of my own including imposter syndrome. Don’t know if Mr. Ruane had anything to do with it but there was a tradition of punk bands playing Norfolk Prison going back to at least 1979. I have no idea why. https://youtu.be/CDwoXeGh87Q?si=s5q5qn51er2Ib3xY
Holy crap.
My teenage local heroes The Neighborhoods go to jail. Temporarily.
I lived next door to Billy Ruane during his brief tenure at Exeter. He was terrible to live next door to, as he was oblivious to everything that was not what he was obsessed with. And if what he was obsessed with was Wild Man Fischer singing “Merry Go Round,” that meant that you were going to hear Wild Man Fischer singing “Merry Go Round” ALL. NIGHT. LONG. Our gym teacher, Ralph Lovshin, knew not what to make of Billy, either. One time Billy showed up for gym wearing loafers and no socks. Mr. Lovshin sent him back to his dorm room to put on his gym shoes. Billy returned wearing black argyle socks, and one gym shoe (the other foot just had the sock). I don’t think Mr. Lovshin had ever encountered anything like that before. He was literally speechless. I never connected with Billy (his obliviousness always felt entitled -a word I didn’t know at the time- to me), but I was always impressed with that level of zero fucks being given.
Great stuff. I guess for one thing we had the advantage of being part of his obsession.
Wait, you had "something ambitious for Substack this week"? And this wasn't it? I love hearing stories about Billy Ruane. I pass by the Middle East every week, and he's the first face that comes to mind.
Great story, John. I miss Billy every day. As for the "literal fistfuls of Vivarin" that "would be fatal amounts of caffeine for mere mortals"... Umm... that's pretty much why he died when he was only 52? Though I suppose it's amazing he lived as long as he did.