razorcake issue #16

,I’m Against It“So don’t be sad ‘cause I’ll be there / Don’t be sad at all”“Life’s a Gas” from the Ramones’ 1995 Adios Amigos! LP. Written by Joey Ramone.I know his birth name wasBryan Todd Agajanian, but I’vealways known and called him Toddmy whole life (unless you count thetimes we called him “Aggie,” anickname he was shortly givenwhile we were kids). Incidentally,the Todd I’m about to speak of hereisn’t the Todd a lot of you know asan editor here at Razorcake. That’sRetodd. Back in 1977-78, when myfriend Chris Vonovich and I weresharing the same second grade classin elementary school, in strolls thisnew kid who we pretty much knewwas going to be our good friendfrom the get-go. Todd always hadthat vibe about him – you couldinstantly tell he was not only a coolguy, but a genuinely good guy. Ithink another reason we knew thatTodd was gonna be tight with uswas that we quickly learned that hewas just as much a dedicated KISSfan as us. After hanging out withTodd on that first day, we realizedhow goofy he was, like Chris andme – possessing the same sense ofhumor and making jokes at whatevercost – not to say he couldn’t bethe utmost serious when he wantedto be.His demeanor back then wasvery, very much the same as it wasup to this year. No matter whatTodd was going through or dealingwith at the time, you could almostguarantee on seeing that smilingface along with his trademark positiveand (very much) headstrongattitude glowing wherever he wentor whoever he was around. Andthat characteristic thriving withinTodd was a key factor as he battledhis complications with leukemia heacquired the last two years, right upto his passing on July 28, 2003 atthe age of thirty-two, fighting it allwith both fists up the entire time.Todd, Chris, and I had somevery memorable times growing upas kids together. There was thealways-fun (and loud) setting up ofan impromptu stage at whoever’shouse we happened to be playing atthat particular day, complete withhousehold items slapped togetherfor my drums, and8tennis rackets for Todd and Chris tojump around and pose with. As faras we were concerned, KISS was inthe house with the three of us idiotsdoing our best impressions with ourmakeshift instruments and mimickingalong to whatever KISS recordwas spinning full blast on thestereo. I’m also sure that Todd’sMom (Dora) and his two brothers(Mark and Steve) remember thetime Todd was pretending to beAC/DC’s Angus Young with a tennisracket out on their front porch.During his “lead guitar break,”Todd ended up taking out the frontglass window while he was tryingto swat a bumble bee away with his“guitar.” Whoops.Always a big fan of sports,Todd was fortunate enough to be onthe same Little League team withChris almost every year, with Chrison the mound pitching and Toddbehind the plate playing catcher.That was fun watching themtogether out on the field, as well aswatching them practice and goadingeach other in our neighborhoods.Sports usually didn’t leadinto heated debates with Todd, aslong as you showed respect for anythingrelated with UCLA and theLos Angeles Dodgers. I alwaysloved pushing his buttons when itcame to the subject of the Bruins,asking obviously irritating questionsas to why UCLA was doingthis or doing that. And he knewwhat I was up to. It’d usually besomething like: “Hey, Todd, whatwas up with your Bruins last night,man?” Todd, with his hand gesturesgetting in gear, would start up:“Daaale, don’t even start!” And I’dcontinue pushing those buttons:“Yeah, Todd, but, uh…” And Toddwould start getting even moreedgy: “Duuude, don’t even gothere!” Watching Todd react wastoo much fun – always with the animatedhand gestures, and whatevertopic we’d be poking each otherabout, it would almost always endin the classic (palm out) “Stop it!”or the frequently used “Zip it!”Being the passionate, emotionalguy he was, I loved the way Toddasserted himself with his personalbeliefs or whatever was on the tableof discussion (or argument). Imean, we’d be sitting around, havinga pretty serious, in-depth talkthat would turn into the subject ofDel Taco, of all things. But we’dalmost always be talking aboutfood on any given day, as I’m sureTodd’s wife Jenny can attest to,right Jenny? Todd would then go onhis tangent: “Dude, two red burritos,with extra cheese, ‘cause Iwanna taste the cheese in there!Straight up fat!” Then I’d pipe up,“Don’t forget the mild sauce,” andTodd would say what he’d alwayssay at the end of any conversationthat ended with his overwhelmingagreement: “That’s right!” I alwayssaw that remark as a little piece ofTodd’s overall passion of life hehad inside him. And anyone whohad the pleasure of having Todd intheir life or simply meeting himcould tell he had a truckload of it inthat big heart of his.Sometimes on Saturday morning,Todd and Chris would be onthe phone with each other, and itusually ended up being the same,loud political discussion they’dalways have. After hanging up,Chris’ wife Kara would ask, “Whydo you and Todd always get intothat same conversation? All you dois end up yelling!” The funny thingwas, Todd and Chris were both incomplete agreement with eachother, just doing it very loudly thanmost people do. Again, that passionatequality Todd had in his soul– he could bring it out in people,maintaining mutual respect all thetime while doing so. As he waswith all things in his life, he eitherloved something or had little to sayabout it. He’d talk for over an hourwith you about something he wasreally into, yet if it was somethingthat he didn’t care either way about,he’d usually say something like,“Yeah, it’s all right,” and that wasit. There was next to no gray areawith Todd.Discussing music was alwayscool with him because not only washe a big fan, but I liked that I couldturn him on to new bands or pastones that he never got into. Butwith that, everyone around him gotto listen to him sing for the nexttwo weeks or so when somethingreally struck his fancy. I would geta kick every time he would changethe lyrics to a song and then I’dstart rattling his cage by sayingsomething like, “Todd, that’s nothow it goes, man.” To this he’dreply, “Duude, I’m doing thesinging over here,” with the imaginarymic in his hand. I’d keep badgeringhim: “But that’s not thewords, Todd.” Of course, he wouldstart noticing that I was out to pushhis buttons, as usual. So it wouldend with Todd looking straightahead, index finger poised, andsnapping back with, “Listen – thisis the way it’s sung now and you’regonna like it!” and we’d both startlaughing immediately like a coupleof morons. I miss that so muchalready.As far as music and going togigs, some of the best times I canremember are Todd, Chris, andmyself completely cutting loose atthe now-gone Bogart’s in LongBeach. There was The Adolescentsshow, the first time the originalline-up had played together inyears, and the place became a tornadoof fans as soon as the vocalsfrom “No Way” kicked in. Anothertime of ruckus was the Big DrillCar show happening there, rightbefore they took off to Europe ontheir “Batch” tour. Packed to therafters, the stage became a launchpad for fans leaping out into theaudience like sugar-charged flyingsquirrels. I’m very fortunate tohave a video copy of this show, asTodd and Chris were amongst thatsquadron of flying squirrels youcan catch quick glimpses of duringthe band’s set.His sharing anything he had tooffer was another one of Todd’sshining qualities. I remember howhe’d split his last piece of bubblegum with me in grade school(which was funny how’d he runout, because Todd was the knowngum connection, always gnawing