Everybody has an Andy Dick Story

This last summer I got to spend a few days with Dino Stamatopoulos. He let me stay in his Servant's Quarters. When I thanked him he said, "Actually I live in the servant's quarters, you are staying in the quarters of the servant of the servant's quarters." This was true. Unrelated to my stay in LA, I happened to be in town the same day Dino was supposed to be recording his podcast with Andy Dick. Directly prior to my stay, I told an LA friend, Billy Brown, that I might meet Andy Dick, and he said, "Everybody meets Andy Dick eventually. Everybody has an Andy Dick Story." I have been putting off telling my Andy Dick story because those few days were such an adventure, and much more than just an Andy Dick encounter. It is a story not about extreme weirdness, but a story which incorporates pleasant outings, drinking, and being a voyeur where I witnessed one of the most dumbfoundingly complicated friendships in LA. This type of story is harder to tell, they take more time. I don't have an anecdote for my time with Dino and Andy, I have a short story, maybe an essay, or an essay and a short story. I even got Dino's permission to be completely frank in publicly sharing my experiences at his house. I don't know if that is about trust or about him not giving a fuck, or maybe both. Permission given has been even more reason to let the stories ferment in my brain. I have promised myself to wait as long as it takes to know what I want to say, and why I would want to share it, or even if anything is worth or needed to be shared. All I can say now is, Dino, in general, has a very sad dog seriousness to his expressions. I like to look people in the eyes, it is a trait of mine that sometimes makes people nervous. I like his eyes, I find it a challenge to see through his thick self deprecating goggles. When many others meet him they find it necessary to joke with him, to prove their admiration or to challenge his wit. I find myself, silent, or saying the most serious things, pretending I know him better than I do. And I got to witness some of his actual close friends with him and it was pleasant. It was real. Maybe he likes that I act this way with him. Paige says it is obvious that he likes me. Why that matters to me, I am not quite sure yet. Some part of me is in awe of his talent, but another part of me feels oddly responsible for him. But this is about Andy Dick, because that is what this movie title says. What I am saying now, that I will someday say in a longer form, is that this serious face of Dino's would lighten up the moment Andy Dick walked into a room. There is no hyperbole in my statement. We waited for Andy in their Starburn's studio. We sat around talking about meatless burger joints, interrupted incessantly with Dino wondering where the fuck Andy was, is he going to be late again? Is he even going to show up? And when he did walk in the room, all that anger, and frustration disappeared and Dino became a giddy child. These two have years and years of history together, an Abbot and Costello combined wit sharing the mentality of two very close brothers fighting for their mother's affection. All the stories that could possibly be told from all the third person perspective eyewitness encounters of them will not even scratch the surface of what the hell these two mean to each other. And that I witnessed in just the first moment of meeting Andy Dick.

Attached below is an episode of Dino's Podcast, Singsongers.  This was the reason I was in LA.