“A LITTLE BIT CLOSER” – by JW
“Dude, Mikey! This guy fuckin’ LOVES you, Man!!!”
These were the words shouted excitedly by Al Jourgensen of Ministry as Mike Scaccia stepped onto the tour bus and I met face to face for the first time my long time hero and soon-to-be lifelong friend. About 30 minutes earlier I had met Al. The first thing I saw when I stepped into his bus was his Rigor Mortis shirt, which I instinctively pointed to and proclaimed, “Rigor Mortis! All right!”
“You like Rigor?” Al responded, his face lighting up instantly, “Fuck yeah!”. And we began discussing my two favorite topics, Rigor Mortis and Mike Scaccia. We bonded as I told him how Mike’s music had honestly changed my life and how the guy had been a musical hero and god to me since I first picked up Rigor Mortis’ self-titled debut LP on a whim. Al in turn shared about the first time he met Mikey and how valuable he was to him as both a friend and a musician. Al was also a hero of mine, but his prominence in my life and in my heart was a mere drop compared to my passion for anything and everything performed by Mike Scaccia. I don’t claim to know Al well, but at the time he seemed to be refreshed and relieved that the fan on his bus this time was not groveling at his feet or kissing his ass, but was discussing with him passionately and at length something that he too loved deeply.
Mike’s response to Al’s spastic introduction of me gave me my first understanding of Mike as a person. Instead of soaking up the attention or reacting with any sort of arrogance or pride, he scrunched his eyebrows a bit and humbly replied in disbelief, “Really?” And so a friendship began. We talked about his music, of course, but soon we were also talking about other things that he was passionate about . . . family, pizza, dogs, whatever. I met Jenny for the first time then as well, and I was very pleased that Mike had a gal so deserving of him. She was beautiful, charming, and very witty and bright.
I was nervous meeting my heroes for the first time that night and tried not to be in the way of the band or cause any interference (I was there to make an appearance as George Bush on stage and figured they’d just want me to perform my part and then get out of the way), but Mike, Al, and Angie constantly told me, “No, relax, hang out.” Even after the show was over I assumed they’d all want to be left alone to decompress so I said my farewell to Mike with “I don’t want to be a nuisance, so I’m gonna take off.” He laughingly reassured me again, “Dude, chill! It’s cool, allright?”
Since our first meeting over 8 years ago I always kept in touch with Mike to make sure he and anyone he worked with knew I was available in CA for any support or assistance with anything. I also (as I’ve done since the internet’s arrival during my college years) continued to praise the name of Scaccia (as well as Rigor Mortis) on any music sites, Ministry fan boards, etc. In fact, the first time Bruce Corbitt (singer of Rigor Mortis) came across me on the ‘net (I think this was the MySpace era) he wrote to me, “Are you the same JW that’s always giving props to Mikey on all the internet sites?” Yes. Same one.
Mike and I got closer with each visit to CA he made. If he was coming in to do a show, meet with a sponsor, or do some guitar clinics, he would let me know so I could meet him at the airport, transport him around, and hang out. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him. I’m not saying this to pump myself up, as it wasn’t charity I was performing. I really loved hanging out with him and it was so worth it for me to take a vacation day off work just to go spend a few hours together and eat some In-n-Out burgers or share a pitcher of beer. We connected over many things, but probably the biggest thing we both shared was love for our wives. We both traveled a lot for our respective careers and he loved telling me about his family and showing pictures on his phone.
The happiest I ever saw him was the last time we met up. He was in the middle of the last Ministry tour and Jenny had flown out to LA for a few days so they could spend some time together. I had such a wonderful day with them both as we drove to Burbank and had a long and leisurely lunch, sharing drinks and stories. Anytime Jenny left to use a restroom or get something from the hotel or make a phone call, Mike would tell me the same thing. “I’m so glad my wife is here.” . . . “I’m so glad Jenny was able to come out.”
When I think about Mike, the word that comes to mind more than anything else is “LOVE”. Everything about him was love. He loved his band mates. He loved his wife. He loved his kids. He loved his friends. He loved his parents. He loved his sponsors. He loved his fans. And he was loved in return. Mike obviously also loved guitars. That love came across in the notes he played on stage and in the studio, but some of us were also blessed to see it in places more mundane like hotel rooms, elevators, or a Del Taco parking lot. His music means so much to me, and has always been the soundtrack of my life, but this last week, the sound that rings most prevalent in my head is the sound of him running scales and blistering solos on one of his electric guitars, completely unplugged. The soft and unamplified twang of the metal strings on one of his solid body electrics as he serenely relaxed or warmed up for a gig is to me such a beautiful and sweet lingering sound which only those close to him really got to witness properly.
When a loved one is lost, many people have regrets. So often we hear, “I wish I’d told him I loved him” or “I never got the chance to tell him how much he meant to me.” To those closest to Mike, I doubt these sentiments will be often heard. Mike was humble and soft spoken and never in-your-face or ostentatious (as is sometimes all too par for the course for a rock prodigy). But despite his gentleness, calm and humility, there was also an intense honesty to him which was not only expressed by him, but managed to bring out the best and truest in those around him. I told Mike often what a gift he had and how much he blessed others, many of whom he didn’t even know and would never meet. And I often told him how much I appreciated his kindness and generosity over the years and how much I appreciated knowing him. I was blessed to hear similar appreciation from him. I am so glad that Mike and I were able to speak for one last time just before his final show. We were both excited that Rigor Mortis would be debuting new songs and I was looking forward to hearing about the audience’s response. He told me he wished I could be there and I told him the same. His final words to me were “Merry Christmas”. So, while Mike has departed this earthly realm and left us all with lovely cherished memories in addition to recordings of insane talent by an artist who gave everything, I do not believe he is leaving us with regrets.
I cannot express the sadness that I have for my own loss and more importantly for the loss suffered by Mike’s wife and children. That sadness cannot be measured. I will tell you that there is a hole left now in the lives of those who loved him and also in the world of music. That hole is dark and deep and it can never be filled. But it can be lit as Mike continues to shine. I think on the night of December 22, during one of his solos, Mike was shining so incredibly bright and his music was so immensely beautiful that God Himself called him up. Like so many of Mike’s fans God just wanted to be a little bit closer. The same way I would always grab a spot directly in front of the stage at any concert so I could be as close as possible and scream at Mike while he was playing, God too wanted to be a little closer. I am glad to know that God is an even bigger fan than I am. And I believe that Christmas in Heaven was extra special this year, as new music was provided by the best there ever was or will be. And while I cry every day because I will not see Mike on stage or in my car again, it makes me smile to know that as he looks down and watches his beloved family and friends day by day, that the Heavens are constantly filled with that soft yet glorious sound of an unamplified, unplugged Gibson.
God bless you, Mikey. I cannot wait to see you again. I love you. We all do.
JW
12-28-2012
