alisa photographs rbadac

A Romantic on a Misshapen Day...
a remembrance by Alisa Botto

   

Words. Words, words, words, words, words, words, words.

I've just been going through my papers, my poems about, & my letters to & from Johnny. I find it practically inconceivable that the words between us have run out. I am horrified that my longest & best muse, & my sweetest critic, is gone. Just one day up & gone.

I met Johnny when I was 19. Of course I remember his first words to me. Right there in front of my boyfriend, who introduced us, he said "you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." Well, I liked him right away! I wasn't the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen...not even close. But it wasn't a line, it wasn't a bold pick-up attempt in front of my boyfriend. I think it was some kind of recognition of the friendship that would follow. Somehow, in that dingy little dark bar, we did the mind meld. We connected immediately on levels that were indeed magical. Magical-there's just no better word.

And magic, & outside the realm, & the unexplained, became a big part of our relationship. We'd talk endlessly of things that can't be measured or observed. Although he would often scoff at the conceit of it all, & my wide-eyed innocence in believing, I think he truly did believe in things that couldn't be explained. He was funny about it, though. I thought he had a gift with the tarot. He would indulge me tirelessly with readings, but always with the laughing disclaimer, "Ah, Alisa, you know this is hokey. I just know what to say because I know you."

Today I found something he had sent me several months back. It was from his review of Living Alone by Stella Benson, in The Weird Review. It was an excerpt from the book that had reminded him of me that began "now witches & wizards, as perhaps you know, are people who are born for the first time..." He told me that he thought it explained my mind-numbing naivete (my words), & the fact that I was always standing around going "REALLY? oh, REALLY?" when people were putting me on.

I sent this on to my on-line friend; we were then in the midst of an in depth discussion about "the witch" in both of us. I forwarded it with the message, "Johnny is just the king of anything magical, witchy, scary, eerie, unexplainable. & he's a regular person...doesn't affect some hokey persona. He has just sincerely been interested in 'other than the surface' for a long time. He's kind of an oddball, but Hey!"

Magic & words. He encouraged, & reveled in, both in me.

He loved & encouraged my poetry & stories from the beginning. I was shocked. He pushed me hard about it this last year; I believe he did because he was so happy to have found a place for his writings. People had shaken their heads for years & said "why won't Johnny do anything with all those songs & stories? They're incredible!" But I understood, to a degree, the things inside of him that kept him from putting his stuff out there. It wasn't a humble act, or even insecurity in the understood sense of the word. He was his own harshest critic. Paradoxically, as he read & studied more these past few years, it made him harder on himself, but it also freed him up to a large degree. When he met so many like minded people on the web, I think he finally knew that he had found somewhere he would be appreciated & understood.

He was my "somewhere" where my writings would be appreciated & understood. I can only try to work harder on them now, & not toss out his encouragement & belief in me. Johnny was just about the only person in my life who thought I was great, & I let him. I believed him. There was something in him that enabled me to see what he saw of me. This was his very rare gift to me.

I sent a letter to my on-line friend about Johnny a year ago. We had been talking about "relationships" & "connection", & those rare people that seem to fall into your life that just know you. I sent her a very old poem about Johnny, trying to explain our relationship. Of course, I made fun of it to her, & then said:

"But it gives you a good idea of what he has meant to me for many years. We've always had a very "undercover" relationship. More so in the beginning...but always we've had a special place we were loathe to let anybody in on. Not your typical girlfriend/boyfriend thing. I was reminded of him when you first talked about relationships, & not pigeonholing them. And letting them have a life of their own outside of any expectations. And yes, it has been hard to separate my feelings for myself from the feelings I have for him. But only because he has seen me, he knows me, & he loves what he sees. He has encouraged my witch all these years. & I don't really find it necessary to separate those things. I don't just love him because he recognizes me...there are many things about him to love & admire & appreciate. But you know what? It sure the hell doesn't hurt that he has seen me, & has nurtured what he has seen all these years!"

This is as close as I can come to explaining how Johnny touched me.

I know this is long. I know I haven't given you a lot of funny Johnny stories. If I started, I don't know if I could stop. We had such fun. Just plain old fun. We played a lot of board games, saw a lot of music & movies together. The last movie we saw together was "The Virgin Suicides." We both laughed so hard that it was embarrassing. I had to resort to poking him & saying, "Hush!" Which was hard to do seriously between my giggles. People in the theatre were staring & rolling their eyes. Johnny said, "Well, my dear, we're just going to have to rent this when it comes out so that we can enjoy it properly!"

His wit, intelligence, humour, & (mostly) gentle sarcasm were always practically legendary with his large circles of friends. I have been so soothed this week to know that everyone here saw it too. Thank you all for your remembrances, & your words, words, words.

A romantic on a misshapen day...
He was pleased when I summed him up this way in a poem. "Well, yes, that's getting close," he said. Rolled his eyes at me, & laughed hard.

-Alisa

   

The following letter was written a few days after the above, to Christopher Roden of Ash-Tree Press, in reply to Chris's inquiry for more about Johnny's life & character. Alisa has kindly permitted this to be added to her remembrance of Johnny. -JAS

   

rbadac photographs alisa

Dear Christopher,

Yes, I'm having a terrible time coming to grips with the fact that Johnny is gone. I'm still having the macabre desire to send him email every day, just hoping...

When I first met John, he was a "reluctant rock star." He had a band called Nightshift briefly, & then one called Johnny Singer & the Hi Lites for a couple of years. The name Johnny Singer stuck, & a lot of people, even all these years later, didn't even know his name was Eatman! He played guitar & sang, fronting the band. Back then, he was a skinny little New Wave kid, with lots of dark hair. He loved Elvis Costello, which isn't surprising because Costello has always been pretty lyrically sophisticated. He covered a lot of his songs on stage, & also did the most exciting "Rosalita" (Springsteen) I ever saw...including Springsteen! But his musical tastes were a lot more far flung than his taste in literature. He loved Harry Nilsson, early John Hiatt (when he was a skinny little New Waver!), Van Morrison, the Clash, the Beatles, the scores of Hollywood musicals, soundtracks (The Graduate in particular), & also everything Motown! I'd always beg him to do the Jackson 5 (ABC) & he'd always oblige. He also loved classical music...and picked Satie for his mother's funeral twelve years ago. It was the same music that was played at his service last week.

He had a record collection the likes of which you've never seen. But, he had it filed in a strange & mysterious way. Whenever I asked him to put something specific on, if he didn't want to he always had the same excuse..."don't know where it is." But he did! He haunted yard sales & library sales, adding to his collection. One of the nicest things he ever gave me was a whole 90 minute tape of Fred Astaire songs. I have no idea where he came by them.

He had such energy & joy on stage, he was memsmerizing. In fact, this week I had to ask my ex-husband...the sax-player then boyfriend that introduced John & me, that I saw play a million times...if he had been in the Hi LItes! Of course he was, & I think he was a bit shocked for me to ask him that. But I just never could take my eyes off of Johnny when he was on stage!

And Johnny had these songs that he wrote. I described them to the music critic here in Memphis as "perfect little angry, lovelorn pop gems." They were love songs, but very cynical ones. Once he said to me when we were talking about music, "aw, Alisa, everything's a love song!" His songs were great. I listened to the one album he put out a lot this week. Although the songs were from the early 80s, they still amaze me.

But something happened, & he quit playing music for a very long time. I think the "reluctant" part of "reluctant rock star" finally caught up with him. I still don't know what it was that happened, & I was very close to him during that time. He just quit. Didn't want to be bothered. I think he was afraid that he was getting too caught up in the lifestyle.

But he'd always play at parties. We had a lot of those! He'd pull out my guitar, & whale away on it for hours. I dreamed of him the other night, & in the dream he was surrounded by a circle at a party, playing a guitar & laughing. This image of him is certainly burned in my brain.

But, for someone who had more friends than anyone I have ever known, he was pretty shy. And could be reclusive at times. In recent years, he had just given up the pretense of a phone altogether. He had a door jamb full of post-its that said things like "don't you dare knock", "go away", "I'm busy", "see you tomorrow", etc. He also had ones that said "I'm in the shower" "gone...whereever". This was his preferred form of communicating with the outside world. Sometimes I would ignore them, & he'd crabbily come to the door. Our visits then were very brief!

But most of the time, anytime before eleven o'clock or so, you could go to his house & it would be full of people! He had an honest-to-god salon going for many, many years! He tried for years to figure out how to keep people from stealing his lighters (um, as in me!) Finally he resorted to making a contraption with a huge block of wood, a chain, & the lighter somehow affixed to it! It solved the problem!

We'd sit around, watch movies, (I always begged for the "classics", he'd laugh at me when I'd bitch & gag through the horror flicks!) or just talk & listen to music. He was a compulsive ash tray emptier, but not such a great housekeeper. He loved board games, & we'd often play the latest one he had found at a yard sale. He liked word games, & puzzles. There was always laughter going on over there. And real conversation, about real interesting things. He'd be just as likely to discuss "The Kreutzer Sonata" with me, or his cat, or his collection of microbrew bottles!

But, a lot of people here this week have talked about his laugh. He loved jokes, & "gotcha!" He always made fun of my dismal sense of humour, but in an extremely loving way. He never stopped trying with me, though, & would send me one-liners over the web in this last year. I was so pleased...in one of my last emails to him I told him a joke ("gotta run...I'm reading a book on levitation & I can't put it down!") that he thought was really funny. He told me he finally thought I was coming around!

He loved toys, too. He was always the easiest person on my list at Christmas. I'd find the dumbest, scariest kid toy I could find. One year, not so long ago, it was a game called "Alien Autopsy." I have him opening this on videotape, & it was on the music tape I made for his wake. He was so excited when he opened it...everyone said upon seeing the tape, "look at him, just like a little kid!" But, he mostly gave me, & everyone else, books. Especially in the last few years, when he started seriously working on his collection. I have dozens of books he gave me. A couple of my favorites are an old book he found for me called Ladies in Hades ("thought of you the minute I laid eyes on this!"), & a large illustrated dictionary of Imaginary Places. He would always write something on a plain piece of paper & stick it in the front of the book. He knew better than to inscribe! I collect books, too, & the first place he would head when he came to visit was my bookshelf. It was our little ritual. Whenever either one of us visited the other, we would be dying to get our grubby (or, "are your hands clean?" if it was a really fantastic find) paws on each other's most recent acquisitions.

In this last couple of years he had worked so hard on his writing. He had finally found a place where he fit in. The one time we talked seriously of this, he told me that he had been disappointed in a lot of his friends reactions, or lack of reaction, to his writing. We talked about the web group, & the confidence he had found there. I will be eternally grateful that this was the way he spent the last year of his life.

He had to move from his house on Autumn, it was sold, & he moved to this crummy garage apartment. Even I was loathe to go there. I called it the hellhole. He just laughed at me. He seemed to go even deeper into his writing then, though. It was too small for any more salons, & the library was right across the street. He hadn't had a car for a while, so it was perfect, really. (Johnny didn't even learn to drive until the past few years! And, believe me, it was a terrifying experience to ride with him!) But I think maybe he felt a little embarrassed by the place. So, he pulled in & wrote. He house sat for my dogs several times in the last couple of years, & I always felt good for him when he was here. Adequate heat & air, the webtv, my computer (I found an odd remark he left me tonight in one of my files!), a fridge with food, & etc. However, the last time I asked him to, in September, he refused. He told me he was just too busy with his writing, & needed to be at home. I worried about him, but was glad he was working so hard on something he had wanted to do forever.

He had no air conditioning, & he suffered mightily this summer when we had 10+ days of over 100 degrees. We had a fight about it, & we had rarely ever come to cross words. I can only remember two or three times the whole time I knew him. I wanted him to come stay with me, where it was cool, but he wouldn't. He did have a stubborn streak when he set his mind. He said he needed to be at home with his books.

I know this is insanely long, I'm sorry. I felt like I didn't talk about Johnny in my remembrance I wrote for violetbooks, only about the effect he had on ME. And I wasn't really happy about that, & was glad to find your post so that maybe I could let someone in on a few things about the man. If you'd like to post any of this letter about him, go right ahead. I didn't know how to go into Johnny, the man, and the effect he has had on me for my remembrance without writing a BOOK!

Basically, though, he was everything that has been posted about him. He was extremely intelligent, full of wit, mannerly, a gentleman & a gentle man. He was generous to a fault. Paradoxically, he could be sarcastic as hell, & did not suffer fools gladly. But he had many, many different kinds of friends, & was always willing to look beyond the surface to see what was inside of someone. He had a great respect for other people, & I believe found real joy & satisfaction in them, & in his life.

When we talked about how much we had both found in our online friends he said "yes, they're much more interested in what you're interested in than your friends, much more interesting than real people, and have much better manners!" This was important to him. Discourse & discussion were very important to him. I'm so glad he was able to find so many like minded people who appreciated his obvious gifts.

Thanks for writing, Christopher. If you want to know anything else, I promise to keep it a little more succinct!

My best,
Alisa

copyright © 2001 by Alisa Botto

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