Norman’s interests were varied, but there were themes. In his own description, he liked anything that was “nuts.” “Mesa of Lost Women;” “I Dream of Jennie;” Cleveland bands like Pere Ubu and Destroy All Monsters; “Hot Rods to Hell;” all of the movies of Russ Meyers, but in particular “Faster Pussycat, Kill, Kill;” any movie featuring oversized insects (from “The Beginning of the End” to “Empire of the Ants”); “Doctor Cyclops;” Stereo demonstration records from the early days; pseudo-psycho Lounge Music, let’s say, Juan Garcia Esquivel; anything made from an armadillo or a rattle-snake; “It Conquered the World;” anything along those lines. He was relentless in his examination of the television listings: in those days there was no cable TV and no videocassettes, you had to notice that something was on at 2:45 a.m. and set your alarm.
I liked the same stuff, except the fat chicks that is. Norman was a bit more focused than me, my tastes were slightly broader based, I read more, I could tolerate newspapers, but I was right there on the NUTS stuff, always had been. We liked the same movies and music, that’s for sure. We often went to the World Theatre in Hollywood for the triple features of exploitation movies of one type or another, movies about people being made into sausages, giant alligators, mutants, zombies, pre-Star Wars outer space, Godzilla and company. There and rock clubs.