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Tuesday, August 28, 2007 | 4:01 PM

My Memory is Fading...

Last night, I was watching "No Reservations" (with Anthony Bourdain) on the Travel Channel and he was going around the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame with Marky Ramone, and it reminded me that I had met Joey Ramone many years ago. I know, how could I have forgotten such a memorable moment?

So, I'm writing it down for posterity's sake.

In any case, I met Joey backstage at Lollapolooza sometime in the mid-90s; actually, it was probably around 1996. I was a young music journalist, covering the live chats we were conducting back stage with the performing bands. The venue was the Shoreline Amphitheater near San Jose, California. It was kind of cloudy and cold that day.

My mentor, writer Jaan Uhelski, was walking around with Joey when she saw me. She waved me over and I approached. When I got within 20 feet, I realized it was Joey, in all his statuesque glory. He wore a yellow t-shirt and skin-tight, black jeans. His hair was longish and black, and he sported dark sunglasses. I recall thinking he kind of looked like a big, tall bumblebee in the black and yellow ensemble. His legs and arms were really thin, and he'd grown a bit of a gut, but otherwise he looked the same. I half expected him to grab Jaan and serenade her with "Rock 'N Roll High School" or the like.

"Joey, this is Clare Kleinedler. She's a great writer!" Jaan exclaimed, in her usual chipper manner. Great writer?!? Surely it blasphemous using the word "great" to describe anyone else in Joey's presence, no? But Joey smiled and stuck out his long, lanky arm and extended his hand toward me. "Hi Clare. Nice to meet you."

I know I shook his hand, because I was all too aware of the fact that my palms probably felt like cake batter to him. Still, he was nice and laid-back and chatted with me about the show, the weather and writing for a few minutes. Being 5'3, my neck was bent practically all the way back in order to make eye contact with him (well, as much as you can when both parties are wearing sunglasses). It was as if I was staring at the sky, talking to this God-like creature; a legend in our time.

He gently patted me on the back as he walked away, like a big brother would to a sister who was about to ride off into the sunset on her little tricycle. I stood and watched him swagger down the little hills behind the amphitheater, amazed that I was lucky enough to have a few moments with one of the only rockstars who actually earned that distinction.

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