05/04/2011 Comments Off on C. Mcalister
I didn’t know him at the time, but I remember Charlie Mcalister walking around the halls of our high school. Trench coat in full effect – back when the Columbine kids were but a flicker in their daddy’s eye, he was making tapes and selling them in the local record store even then. It wasn’t until years later that I found myself working on a movie crew next to Charlie. We hit it off over a Naptha high as we stripped the paint off of an antique baseboard in a historic plantation home in Charleston, South Carolina. We were cracking each other up so hard behind our ventilation masks, we almost died of asphyxiation – or maybe that was just the chemical?
Since then, I’ve gotten to know Charlie pretty well and have spent some of the most memorable, hilarious and abstract moments of my life with him at the helm. It would take writing a book or making some 6 hour documentary to even begin to archive Charlie’s artistic contribution, but this is a mere blog post meant to give those unaware an expedient glimpse into the creative vortex that is C. Mcalister. If you, like a small crowd of appreciative others whom I have had the pleasure of introducing Charlie’s music/art/writing/antics to, find yourself fiending for further discovery, I urge you to search him out beyond the information below. Elusive as he may be, he’s out there. His web address/email may or may not be expired, the tape you try to order may or may not be sold out, and his physical address may or may not be up to date, but he’s a true practitioner of the dying art of physical correspondence. If you can find what looks to be an up to date residence, write him and include ten bucks. It’s well worth the risk. If you get lucky and do make contact, rest assured that he’ll send you back your investment tenfold in sensory delights.