crawling across my vision –
Backstage blue, so blue it hurts,
all gunmetal gray through hues
past the counting:
almost, the eyes shut!
- (1960s local Orlando radio disc jockey under the moniker of Bill Vermilion, had Central Florida’s youth in thrall. His local AM outlet, then nomened WLOF had few if any rivals. The Sanford station WTRR did play “Eight Miles High” when Vermilion and other local rock-jocks would not touch such a controversion song featuring “violent hash-eaters,” and later when FM WDIZ out Mount Dora way (before it became commercial and moved to Orlando) played “Underground,” and I had to drag my mother into my older brother’s then-unused bedroom to hear The Long Version of “The Pusher,” I though our little slice of Americana Amberized Entire. Decades later whilst taking computer programming courses at the local state college I encountered this doddering old codger with both a white-n-red-tipped cane and a strightly young lady of at least septuagenarian vintage whom she introduced to me as Mister Bill Vermilion. I, thunderstruck, said: “Surely, not the famous William Greene?” He laughed and said: “No. It really all this time was Vermilion. It was perfect for radio.” We chatted for a few minutes and then I helped his helper/lady/wife get him up on stage at the whatever-it-was they were putting on with him as a minor satellite in a constellation of media stars. Made my day!)