The Fincher

In addition to Elroy, this guy is the number two reason for starting this blog. I will tread lightly here, but this guy is presumed still alive, and possibly still in Milwaukee. James Finch. His middle name may be some form of Lewis, or Louis. The Fincher worked at the Crest for my entire tenure (except for the last two weeks. Once we were told the place was closing, he didn't show up again. I never got to say goodbye to the guy, but I assume there was no point in sticking around for him). The Fincher made a huge impression on me. I had no idea at the time, but this guy indirectly taught me lasting things about life, the street, the inner city, and drugs that I would have never learned anywhere else.
-The Fincher was my first real introduction to an industry working black man. My aim in recalling, and typing, this info is to put it down from the angle of my teenage mind, not to sound like some clinical bullshit, or even worse, in an insensitive or racially unsettling tone. Times have changed, and I definitely have matured.
-I'm guessing the Fincher was in his late thirties when I started, and hence in his low forties when the place folded. I think that is the best I can do. I remember him pointing out his birthday on more than one occasion, but I don't recall any specific numbers.
-Habits, personality traits, and other thoughts:
1) He used a matchbook as a toothpick.
2) The guy lived and breathed Boston's first album. It was the soundtrack of this life.
3) His after work drink became known as the "Fincher Fizz". It was a small tumbler with anywhere from one to about 5 shots of rail brandy in it. No ice. And topped off with an eye dropper of Coke.
4) When cranking the radio, he would often ask if the song playing was the "LV"? What the hell did that mean? It was short for 'long version'. A good example would be "Do You Feel Like We Do?" by Frampton, or "Green-eyed Lady" by Sugarloaf, which were well known for radio edit versions. I still use this phrase.
--20110106
-I feel like adding to the Fincher post today. I still can't believe that any of us really got away with it, or didn't get seriously messed up, but he used to take us (me, and some of the other milky suburban white kids) down into the inner city to get high and party it up. He always lived in the neighborhood of State Street, or over near Highland Ave, up to about Center Street. In the range of 10th to about 27th Street. It was always somewhere different. Dumpy rent-by-the-week one bedroom joints. Usually with his wife Helen, who ended up working at the Crest later on. I specifically remember a place on about 34th and State. I went over there after work to pickup a dime of some classic "downtown brown" (ie crappy, dried-out ghetto schwag). I recall hanging out with the Fincher and his old lady, puffing up some brown, and drinking Thunderbird wine (remember that stuff?) out of a washed out peanut butter jar. We had a blast. Helen played some soul music on one of those handheld AM/FM transistor radios. One of those soul stations on the AM dial that is probably long gone now.
-The Fincher was famous for mis-interpreting song names and lyrics, as well as highlighting particular lyrical passages to great humorous effect. As you can tell from earlier notes, he a was a radio rat. I think this one of the many reasons we got along so well, since I'm always interested about what music is playing. The house radio at work was usually dialed into WKLH, classic rock. In the early 90's, KLH still had some balls.....not a lot, but more than it does now. Obviously, this is pre-internet, pre-mP3, pre-streaming, etc. We had two boom boxes in the kitchen. One in the dishroom, and one in the main kitchen (back by the salad department). They both played tapes, but it was really buyer beware on putting a cassette of any value in the dirty and gummed up machines.
-Some radio highlights/moments:
-"Evil Woman" by ELO. The Fincher always thought they were saying "Vehicle Woman", as "Vee-hicle Woman".
-"Oh, Girl" by The Chi-Lites (one of my favorite old soul tunes, by the way), was not a favorite of The Fincher's. When it would come on, he would give me a look of severe dis-satisfaction and say, "Ohhhh, not Old Girl!".
-Some play air guitar, but The Fincher played air bass. When a particularly pleasing bass line came on, he would hold his left hand motionless up above his head and shoulder, and slap his whole right hand, dangling off to his side, at about hip level. In other words, a wildly inaccurate portrayal of bass playing. Somebody commented, "Jim, what kind of bass is that? It looks like you are playing a single telephone cable strapped to a 2 x 4". One song that was guaranteed to get some air bass, was "Steppin' Out" by Joe Jackson. After the instrumental break in the middle, when the synth-bass comes back in playing that octave line, he would launch.
-As previously mentioned, Boston was king. Anything off of that first album was gold for him. It must have been something about all those processed guitars, or the faux heavy metal shrieking voice of Brad Delp, but the opening acoustic strums of "Peace of Mind", followed by the electric, and full band lead in, would send The Fincher into absolute overdrive. We would crank that shit when we were busting down at the end of the night....pounding beers, taking turns going "out behind the garage"....and we felt like complete kings. Like I said in an earlier post, I am proud to say that these were some of the (in the total sense of existence) best moments of my life. I had a total grab on the world as I knew it. My perception of the world was just the right size at this time, and I felt I really had a grasp on it. My work was tangible and real. It was clear when the day was done, and you knew immediately if you did a good job, and the people I was doing it with were on the same page.