Via email, real-life friend Bill writes:
Ted Berg’s all-time, no-holds-barred, ultimate music supergroup line-up?
It switches all the time, as Bill knows. And you might have to look some of these guys up. For today, let’s make it funky and go with Stanton Moore on drums, Norwood Fisher on bass, Phelps Collins and Jimi Hendrix on guitars, and a horn section featuring Cannonball Adderley and Skerik on saxophones, Wycliffe Gordon on trombone, and Maynard Ferguson on the trumpet. I’m not sure I’d say any of those guys is the best all time at his instrument, I just think they’d make for an unspeakably awesome band. Hendrix could sing if necessary, but I don’t really think they’d need vocals very often.
First things first, I take off my pants. No one’s ever going to make me wear pants again.
What was it, $580 million or something? So figure I wind up with $300 million after taxes. I use $100 million to make sure my parents, my sister and her family, and all my in-laws are set for life. I put $100 million in the bank to collect interest and so I can pay taxes on all the stuff I buy with the remaining $100 million.
Next, I throw the most baller-ass party anybody can possibly imagine. Rent out some awesome venue, hire the fanciest caterer and have him make cheeseburgers, serve Johnnie Walker Blue in every cocktail, all sorts of ridiculous excess. I don’t even know if I have enough friends to come to my multimillion-dollar party, so I have my people reach out to Puff Daddy’s people and see if he’ll co-sponsor it and come hang out under the agreement that he is absolutely not to rap at any point in the party. We’ll book the remaining members of the Wu-Tang Clan for that. So it’ll be me and a bunch of my friends, Puff Daddy and a bunch of his friends, and the Wu-Tang Clan, hanging out. And there’s going to be carnival rides, games of chance, a wheel of cheese to put Andrew Jackson’s to shame, and that guy Ted Batchelor who sets himself on fire.
Finally, I buy the penthouse at 432 Park Avenue, the highest residential location in New York City, and a pet alpaca, and I hunker down for the pantsless life of an eccentric rich guy.
My listening habits suggest it’s the 70s or the 90s, followed by the 00s. I would have thought I listened to more stuff from the 60s, but looking through my iPod, it’s mostly the Beatles and some live James Brown material from that decade. I probably listen to more stuff from the 90s than any other decade, though I don’t listen to a lot of the same stuff now that I did in the 90s. I don’t have a ton of music I love from the 10s, because I’m old now and crotchety. These kids these days with their dubstep. Bah.
Wait, who said I’m going to die? I’m planning a full St. Germain.