Question:
http://www.laweekly.com/general/feat...the-cat/15505/
oops of course I meant Morrissey with 2 "S"s. Nothing about perfume here but read if it "Moz", ghosts, Ireland, cats, pets, death, death of pets, music, squirrels or politics are of interest!

Answer:
Wow - this is a good piece of writing and a lovely interview.
As a bookish young Anglo-Irish lad in the North of England in 1984 (yes I missed the first six months) the discovery of 'Hatful of Hollow' was like a hand through the clouds. It meant so much to me.
My dad worked with Johny Marr's dad for years - digging the roads and putting gas pipelines down.
So ... The Smiths and Morrissey have been one of the rocks upon which I have built my life. God, that sounds melodramatic - but it's the truth.

Answer:
Originally Posted by michaeld39 So ... The Smiths and Morrissey have been one of the rocks upon which I have built my life. God, that sounds melodramatic - but it's the truth. that makes two of us, my friend. though i was far later in discovering them, as i wasn't born until december of 1984. i stole my older sister's Louder Than Bombs cassette when i was about twelve, and a decade later The Smiths and Morrissey are still two of the things I love the most in life.

Answer:
morrissey is so full of contradictions and problems and he can be just terrible, but ...he's so wonderful, a titan really. I never wasinto the smiths until I had the misfortune of living in san diego, an "every day's like sunday" town if there ever was one. I had a terrible time there, was forced to take some awful temp work and a girl at one of my jobs, at the salvation army, yet, told me I reminded her of morrissey. so I bought viva hate and came under his spell. it was nice to discover him in the 90s causeI didn't have to wait for the albums to come out, and I just gorged myself on morrissey and the smiths for a few years.
I met him one time. I was driving my car up la cienega and I saw him looking sort of lost, so I pulled over and jumped out of the car and ran up to him and said "Morrissey! Could I please hug you like they do on stage?" and he shrugged as if to say "why not?" so I did. I asked him what he was doing, looking lost. He was trying to find a hairstylist shop where he had an appointment. I told him I could solve that problem with my celphone. But, you know, maybe he didn't want to go to the shop anymore, and I was dense. I told him this story about how at a concert he gave at the greek theater in LA I brought a present for him, the "Kraken edition" of Herman Melville's "Pierre - or The Ambiguities" (his greatest book, which he wrote Moby Dick to warm up for, although I don't recommend reading the Kraken edition, which is abridged, sort of, as I quickly explained to him) with these very homoerotic illustrations by Maurice Sendak. I got as far as some bodyguards with it, who made some walkie talkie calls then said they would take it to him. He told me he never got it. And I said well maybe I could mail you another one. So I made the call to the salon and got the address and walked him there and as we were walking he asked, "How do you get your arms so big?" and I, with self effacing modesty (cause my arms have always been big) and the confessional instincts of a catholic boy blurted "Well, I have AIDS and they give me steroids!" and he replied "Oh! There are advantages to everything!" So I walked him inside and as I turned to go he asked, "don't you want my address?" and I was expecting something like "c/o the william morris agency" but he gave me a street address! So... maybe this was an invitation to stalk him. I don't know. I tried to find the address and there was no house there so I was completely confounded. I decided to go ahead and order the book and send it to him at that address with delivery confirmation (and my contact info and a suggestion I take him to lunch [lame!]). Later I learned something I didn't know: that on some streets above sunset where the street deadends and you see only brush, there is actually a great big palatial house hidden behind that brush. I had an online assignation with a movie director one time and lo, the brush parted, and I was received into his great big palace. So, I might have found a doorbell or something amidst the shrubbery if I'd persevered. The book was delivered. My timidity with him, shall we say, had a lot to do with my instinctively envisioning some awful scenario, my feeling that it would be a disaster to be alone with him (as it was for me to be alone with "Blue" Gene Tyranny, if anyone here knows who that is), would ruin everything, such as it was. But oh probably it would have been worth it to savor just a few more bon mots out of his mouth directed just at moi. Well, let's face it, I did attempt to stalk him, at least. Of course I never heard from him - he didn't want to "do" lunch - never saw him again. I still have the card, of course.
Johnny Marr is also pretty incredible and his last name is actually the same as mine, but he changed the spelling from Maher. Like both of them I'm an Irish boy. I tend to think this goes a long way towards explaining what a uh handful I am.