How an Old Sailor Story became a Great Song

I really lucked out with my new job in Sunriver. My new boss was a very successful business owner who operated a small crew of people to maintain, promote and clean a large group of vacation rental properties. My coworker who shared my office, Maggie, was a very hip person with the same tastes of indie music as my wife and me. We would listen to internet radio and stream great songs while we both worked on our jobs, with me doing marketing and Maggie working as the company’s accountant.

I continued to play music around town with The Rum and The Sea, while I was learning the ropes of the new job. Meanwhile, Shannon and I would also enjoy our favorite activity of attending concerts, both locally and traveling to new venues around the state. Life was a fun balance again while we were parenting our two young children.

I think being a dad rocker added a lot of vibrance to my spirit that I would not have otherwise. The band would always have practice during the midweek, and we’d often have a show to perform during the work week. The practices and performances seemed to recharge my batteries. While most people at work were feeling the burn of the tasks at work, Wednesday and Thursday felt like Monday to me after a show.

I also felt lucky about my new job because I was genuinely respected and valued by my boss. He didn’t clock-watch and trusted me as a professional to help him achieve his vacation rental sales and marketing goals. He also was a strong supporter of my music.

My drive and intention for writing and performing music transitioned into simply a lifestyle, and not a professional endeavor. It was a much healthier and realistic way to think about the activity.

The collaboration with Jay in The Rum and The Sea really helped me produce a nice list of new songs. I was inspired by the pirate-theme we had as a band, and stories of my time overseas in the Navy started to resurface and take the shape of song. Thanks to the band, I was on a great roll with fun new songs that we would perform and eventually record.

One of the stories was a tale my close friends are very familiar with, when I had an “unexpected” (rather — a planned) run-in with a famous grunge rock star in Tokyo. It was during my last week in Japan. I was very used to going to the Roppongi party district by myself, enjoying the night bouncing from pub to pub. It wasn’t that I wanted to party alone, but it seemed every time I would go out with a friend, I would end up in trouble or babysitting someone who couldn’t regulate their drinking.

My favorite bar was Gas Panic, which was located down an alley. You entered this bar by walking into an elevator that opened up to a small, smoke filled dark room full of people, booze, and loud rock music. One of the nightly hooks of the bar was the fire-breathing acts from the bartenders standing on the bar.

Urban legend had it that if you went out on Wednesday night, you would end up meeting a celebrity, like Prince or Madonna, who both had their own bars in Tokyo. I was really bummed out when I found out we were leaving Japan mid-week during my last week in Japan. I wanted to have one last blast in Tokyo. We were getting deployed for a six-month cruise to the Persian Gulf. My time was up in the Navy, and I would jump on a plane to go home and start my life as a civilian in Bend, Oregon. I discovered that I had one last chance in Tokyo to potentially meet up with one of my favorite rock stars.

I heard that my all-time favorite band, Pearl Jam, was in Japan, playing a series of shows promoting their latest album Vitalogy from February 18 – 21, 1995. After reviewing the schedule, I noticed a one-day gap between the shows on the twentieth, which was a Sunday. I decided that I would head over to Tokyo that night to see if my hunch that Eddie Vedder and crew would be out on the town would be true.

It was a lot less crowded than your typical weekend. I bounced around to my favorite pubs, hoping that I would see an entourage of Pearl Jam players, asking around for any sign of them. I went to my favorite, and last pub, before I would head back. The trains and bars closed earlier on Sunday nights, unlike the rest of the week when the last train departed at midnight and the bars closed at 7am. If I didn’t catch the train in time, I would be stuck and would have to pay a very expensive taxi charge; if I was even lucky enough to even get a taxi to take me 40 miles away.

I walked into the elevator thinking that I was just going to pop my head in and then head directly over to the trains. The elevator doors opened to the bar, and, to my surprise and amazement, there was the Pearl Jam band sitting at the end of the bar. I walked up to the bartender who knew me from other times.

I looked over to the band and said my favorite celebrity line: “I’d like to buy that guy a beer”. The guy in question happened to be Eddie Vedder, sitting and surrounded by a group. The bartender popped open a Corona and stuck a lime wedge on the top as he served the beer to Eddie. I edged my way into the group and ended up having that beer sprayed at my face. “I don’t want your beer,” Eddie shouted to me.

His crew then quickly grabbed me by my jacket and forced me away towards the bar bouncer, who grabbed me and escorted me to the elevator door. “Private party,” said the bouncer, while we waited for the elevator to open.

I was in shock. I was just a fan who wanted to say hello. Something came over me and I shouted across the room as the doors opened. “Hey, you know what? YOU SUCK.”

The band looked at me, and flipped me off as the doors closed. When I was downstairs in the alley, I patted my pocket and had realized my wallet with my ID and my cash were still upstairs on the bar. I pushed the elevator door button, but they never opened. I was stuck in Tokyo on a Sunday night with no cash to go anywhere else. I was running very short on time, so I made a quick dash towards the train station. I jumped the pay gate and made it in barely enough time to make it back to base where I had a lot of explaining to do about my lost ID.

It wouldn’t be the last time that I would see Pearl Jam again while overseas. For some very weird reason the band ended up in the same area as my ship during their Vitalogy world tour, ending up in Singapore at the same time my ship was there during their show on March 3, 1995.

I was a young punk, twenty-two years old with a lot of spunk, and told the story about my unfortunate last night in Tokyo to my friends on the ship as we went out to sea on a long journey to the Persian Gulf. We all know that sailor stories can quickly stretch and get dramatized with action. So, I’ll admit that I exaggerated my interactions a bit, as if Eddie and I were on a full on fist fight and I got pulled away. Which wasn’t what happened at all.

My mystified shipmates and I found out that Pearl Jam was in Singapore exactly when we were in port, so they edged me on to go to the Singapore show. I did, and in between songs I shouted, “You suck!” a couple times. I think he heard it as he scanned where it was coming from in the audience. I can’t say that I’m proud of doing that, but it did offer some retribution of getting booted out of my favorite pub in Tokyo and the stress of getting back, which was completely self-imposed.

I was ready to put the whole thing past me. However, as luck would have it, I would come face to face with Eddie Vedder yet again after I made my way back to the United States. After a couple months in the desert sea near Kuwait, I arrived at Treasure Island, a base that was also preparing to shut down shortly after I was processed to be discharged out of the military. I found out that there was a concert going on in San Francisco at the Golden Gate Park, hosting Bad Religion and, of course, Pearl Jam. I worked my way through the moshing people during the Bad Religion show and secured a spot near the front. When Pearl Jam came out on stage, Eddie played a song and then looked down at the crowd where I was standing.

He looked back up to the crowd and apologized saying that he wasn’t well and then walked off stage. Neil Young took over for the rest of the show. I thought it was because of spotting me, but it wasn’t; he apparently had food poisoning.

Thanks to The Rum and The Sea, I was able to transition that very unique story into one of my most popular songs: “Gas Panic Grudge”. I guess if I were ever to have a sit-down conversation with Eddie, he probably wouldn’t even remember the Gas Panic event. I was just a blur of a fan in a dark smoky bar that ended up getting sprayed with beer. I’d probably feel embarrassed about my immaturity in Singapore, trolling his performance. So, Eddie, if you ever read this or hear the song I composed about Tokyo, I authentically hope you enjoy it. As for Singapore, rest assured that I got what was coming to me and many drunk audience trolls have returned the favor to my performances, not that it makes what I did acceptable.