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An evening with Jimmy Page

Abscando

New Member
Oct 11, 2005
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Faith
Atheist
This a brief story I wrote for class. Tell me chat you think and be sure to hit me back with some constructive criticism :)



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New York 1988
03/02
21:17




It must have been around fifteen past nine when he finally walked in. Me and my colleagues had been waiting for quite some time now. Exactly how much time had passed was unbeknownst to us although the cigarette buds and the empty Styrofoam cups gave us some vague idea. Even though we had anticipated his arrival, nothing could have prepared us for the sudden impact of his presence. The reporters fell silent as he walked through the wide doorway of the conference room, his retro-style shades and tight fitted leather outfit gleaming with distinction. I was pushed aside by a group of photographers running towards the celebrity, their cameras going off like rifles trying to get a clean shot of a moving target.

“Savages” muttered a man behind me. “There's no need to fight for who gets the best shot, there'll be plenty of time for that after the press conference.”

I agreed.

Once the welcoming party had reached the long table at the end of the room, the photographers were asked to cease taking pictures, and the reporters to take their seats. A spokeswoman got up and confronted the eager crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Jimmy page”

An applause continued by whistles followed.

“Please remain silent. We will now commence a question and answer session. Please make sure all of your questions are relevant. Remember that Mr. Page is running on a tight schedule and that this meeting hadn't been on his agenda and would not have happened if it wasn't for Mr. Page's kindness to fulfill your many requests. Mr. Page?”

A dead silence was heard after the spokeswoman's last words. All eyes were fixed upon Mr. Page. Smiling, Mr. Page pushed his chair back, his long curly hair casting a brief shadow upon his face. He slowly got up and walked towards the pedestal with the same air of indifference one would have when taking a casual late-evening stroll.

“Thank you Martha”.

He spoke with a mellow middle-class English accent, omitting the R's and pronouncing the T's.

“Hello everyone. It's a pleasure to be here. Never mind what Martha said, we've got all evening.”

A gentle laughter was heard.

“So, let's hear the questions shall we?”

About a hundred hands, counting mine, shot up. Mr. Page, his hand out-stretched, pointed at a middle-aged man wearing a brown tweed jacket.

“Mr. Page, it has been a great many years since you've gone on tour with your band, is it true that you're releasing a new album?”

“Oh certainly not. No, we got back together for old time's sake. When you do something for old time's sake, you want to preserve as much past as you can so that you can live off of your memories. Releasing something new would completely spoil that experience”.

The scribble of a hundred pens on a hundred notepads provided buffer time between the questions.

“Next Question” Mr. Page announced, motioning his index finger towards a younger reporter.

“Mr. Page, you are considered to be one of the most influential rock and roll guitarists of all time. What we want to know is how you were able to come up with what many believe to be the greatest guitar riffs ever”.

Mr. Page chuckled.

“I don't know how they ever came up with that conclusion,” he said smiling “I guess it just sounds right you know. Sometimes people get too technical when they make music. They shouldn't. If you like the feeling you get from playing something, then keep it. Who cares if it doesn't pertain to the law book of music? It's with this kind of attitude that I make my songs and well, it has got me through quite a way. Next.”


An array of arms was raised.

“You” said Mr. Page, gesticulating at me.

My heart skipped a beat. I took a deep breath and swallowed.

“Mr. Page, Stairway to Heaven is known as the anthem of Rock and Roll. You and your band are considered to be the catalysts to the creating of the very genre. How does it feel to be a founding father of Rock and Roll?”

Smiling, with a twinkle in his eyes, he answered:

“It gives you a sentiment of accomplishment. I won't deny the fact that knowing your name will go down into the history of Rock and Roll isn't something to be proud of. It's a ****ing great feeling”.


A surge of happiness flowed through my veins. I quickly wrote his response down into my notepad and capped my pen. I didn't need to take notes anymore. My job was done. Finally knowing how Jimmy Page felt at the peak of his career was the final piece of the puzzle I had attempted to solve, that being his biography.

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