X SPOT THE MARKS
As I enter Billy Zoom’s Cincinnati motel room, I glance at the usual rockband-on-tour pile of black leather jackets, but I also take note of a big jar of Coffee-mate non-dairy creamer in the corner. “Aha!” I silently register. “Caffeine fiends like meself.
X SPOT THE MARKS
RAW CHEMICALS WITH A SPOON
by
Richard Riegel
As I enter Billy Zoom’s Cincinnati motel room, I glance at the usual rockband-ontour pile of black leather jackets, but I also take note of a big jar of Coffee-mate nondairy creamer in the corner. “Aha!” I silently register. “Caffeine fiends like meself. So that’s where X’s hard-edged voomboom riffs come from.”
Co-riffmeister Billy Zoom is stretched out on his bed, watching a WKRP In Cincinnati episode on the motel-bound TV. “That station doesn’t exist in reality,” he says, gesturing toward a bright-orange Dr. Johnny Fever frantic at his mike. “If it did, our records would be on the radio.”
We all agree on that point, as Billy’s spouse (and X’s road manager), Denise Zoom, dons her black leather jacket to go down to the bar. She’s going to while away the hour observing the local fauna—“Some Kentucky guys with CATerpillar caps”—and give the onstage Xs a chance to chat with this odd non-dairy CREEMster Elektra’s publicity dept, dug up somewhere. The other Xs troop into the room as Denise exits.