Dear Wayne Static…

(As posted on my personal FaceBook page, earlier today.)

Some will say you were just another scumbag rocker who died too early.

(Or not too early depending on one’s level of judgment and musical tastes.)

To me, however, you were more than that.  And no, this is not some crazy-ass rantings of some would-be Groupie with a crush.  I’m damn near 40 years old and already married to my favorite rocker, just as you were married to your favorite porn star.

(Oh, the similarities!  Except the fame…and money…but whatever.)  :-p

This is not about that.  This is about what YOU, yes you, personally did for me for the better part of a year, to get me into the right frame of mind for MY “adult” job.

As a webcam performer (which I often make light of, when I speak of it), I had to amp myself up but good, to get in the mood to deal with several hours of jackasses making crazy fucking requests and treating me like a non-human.

*NOTE:  Not all of our viewers did that – in fact, I am personal friends with many of them to this day, so if YOU are reading this by way of my FB friend’s list, then rest assured, that you are not the kind of person I am referring to.  You probably made my day on more than one occasion, and you probably, even through the sexually charged ether, showed me that you were a true friend.

SO – the good apples, aside, it was a tough job.  It CAN be easy, but on the psyche, it’s so challenging.

You start to believe that you are a piece of meat.  That you have no feelings.  That you do not count.

To prepare for all of this, I had a few things that I did to get all geared up for the night’s festivities.  This is where Wayne Static (Static-X, to be more fair) comes in.

Dirthouse” – after a sip or two of Pinot Grigio – was that special thing that got me focused.  Yes, there were other “Go-To” songs too:  “Ladies and Gentleman” by Saliva was one of them.  We went through an “Enter the Ninja” phase by Die Antwoord.

But, “Dirthouse” was always the one that could pick me back up, give me a second wind, to make it through a few more hours of camming – taking requests, bearing insults, and doing as I was told for mere cents per minute, via the world wide web.

I’m fairly certain the lyrics to this particular melody are not necessarily sexually suggestive, but that groove…that’s what I’ve always been about.  I’m a dancer at heart, and I can specifically recall when Industrial music first started becoming popular.  I was taking all kinds of dance lessons, and choreographing for talent segments in pageants that I would be participating in. (Yes, pageants.  I truly aspired to Miss America status.)  I’d show my mom my latest routine – jazz, lyrical and ballet elements all included – but set to something Industrial, my patient mother would watch.  Smile.  Nod.  Then, ever so kindly, tell me that I looked like a Stripper.  (Of course spinning around stop signs when we’d take walks, didn’t help this cause, but I think you see where I’m going.)  I moved a certain way, from an early age, to a certain sound.  It activated something in this brain of mine.  And that’s what “Dirthouse” did for me again, some years later.

Bret would fire up our play list, as my sweaty palms started taking hold, and when I heard the opening drum beats, it was like an immediate line of whatever illicit drug that people partake in to feel good, to feel better, when they suspect that things might feel shitty in the near future.  It was better than a shot of Crown.  (Or Pendleton – Eastern Oregon, represent!)

It worked for me.  And it wouldn’t make me klutzy or hung-over.  Especially that song.  I don’t know why.  It just did.

So.  Dearly Departed (on this All Souls Day) Wayne Static, leaving your own porn queen widowed, as of yesterday, thank you for the drug you gave to me, during a time in my life, that so few will understand.  And because modern technology rules, I can still listen to you.

I can still listen to “Dirthouse”  when I need to get amped up for whatever.  Probably no more camming – ever – Gawd, I hope.  But Just to feel that little nostalgic punch of adrenaline, recalling that even stressful times have their happy components.  And getting that groove factor going so I can take my MILF-ass upside down onto my pole, or onto the Burlesque stage, or just because, for no reason at all.

BTW, “Dirthouse” wasn’t their only good song.  They have hours of good songs.  And Wayne had recently gone solo, and was going out on tour with Drowning Pool – another band struck by tragedy – and on Nov 26, was going to perform at Backstage Live, in San Antonio.  It honors me to say that I too, have already performed there.  I’m only sorry I never got to see Wayne Static there.  But if it’s any consolation (mostly to myself) I hear his voice, nearly every day, when I think of good things that helped during awful times.

Rest in Peace, my rocker friend.  My love to your widow.  May you entertain on the other side, whatever that may be.  My heart will be listening.

Love always,

~Layla Beth, A/K/A “Antigone”~

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