ROCK'S GREATEST EVER

Case in point: The Ramones. I owned three Ramones albums in the early 1980s, and saw them live once in 1984. I dug them, but I was not one of their passionate fans. My fanboy-drugs of choice at that time ranged from Tom Waits to Deep Purple to Accept to Oingo Boingo. Even then, I knew there was nothing cooler than being a Ramones devotee, the closest thing punk ever had to The Grateful Dead's Deadheads.

When End of The Century hit the theaters two years ago, it left a lot of Ramones fans disillusioned that the harmonious bond between the band members was not all it was hyped to be. The film, which documented The Ramones career as the world's premiere punk rock band, is one of several recent sources that revealed the group's turbulent history. The disillusion is understandable, since the film destroys thoroughly destroys the façade.

But the fact that The Ramones endured that turbulent ride for so many years is what turned me from a casual fan into a Ramones devotee in 2003 -well after the passing of both Joey and Dee Dee Ramone- to the point I would call them the greatest band ever. I'm not talking the best punk or alternative band, I'm talking best Rock & Roll band ever.

Their chaotic legacy truly awes me. Not the mythical legacy of Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee and Tommy who, while not blood related, were closer than most real brothers could ever be. It was the true legacy of Joey, Johnny, Dee Dee and Tommy who, while not blood related, were like brothers embroiled in an intense two decade sibling rivalry. Twenty two years of creative differences, arguments, fist fights, jealousy and one messy love triangle. Fiercely loyal as band mates, butting heads as individuals. Joey the staunch liberal, Johnny the far-right Reagan fan, Dee Dee the hustler, novelist and druggie, and Tommy who -while he probably had his issues- seemed like the most level-headed of the bunch. And let's not leave out the band members who jumped into the fray during the game: Ritchie, Markie and CJ, who seemed to be caught in the crossfire of Rock & Roll's First Dysfunctional Family.

Yep. It's the dysfunctional legacy that made me salute The Ramones.

Why? Because I think of all the financially successful bands that burned out in much less time than it took before The Ramones called it quits. Think of the pop bands throughout history that are lauded as legendary, whose Hall of Fame status is never questioned, groups whose albums have sold millions. ABBA began with two married couples, and ended with both couples divorced. The Beatles went through two amazing incarnations in a short space of time before parting ways. Creedence Clearwater Revival ended with bitter John Fogerty permanently on the outs with his bitter band members. The Doors flew high and disbanded after Jim Morrison's quick demise. Despite hitting the jackpot, these bands let their differences split them up in short time. Not one of these groups performed together as active bands half as long as The Ramones did. And even The Sex Pistols, who are often falsely credited with being the first punk rock band, were only around for a little over two years.

The Ramones worked as an active band for twenty-two years. They never hit the platinum and gold charts in Rolling Stone they hoped for, and never wallowed in the riches like most Billboard toppers. Common sense says that mediocre record sales and disharmony should have burned them out in three or four years, only to become a miniscule footnote in rock & roll history. But they forged ahead, refusing to throw in the towel until giving it their all for twenty-two years. The Beatles and ABBA may have raked in a fortune and left a larger legacy to the naked-media eye, but they tapped out long before the final round. If you ask me, The Ramones made a far more substantial contribution to rock music and its fans.

The Ramones usually traveled in a van, lived on fast-food, and often loathed being in each others' faces day after day. For several years Joey and Johnny refused to speak to one another, unless it had to do with business. Milder chaos has broken up more prolific bands in shorter time. But this group kept on playing with a work ethic that anybody -be they a musician, dry-waller, or doctor- should aspire to.

Before I saw End of The Century, it was the book Hey Ho Let's Go! by Everett True that turned me on to The Ramones. Aside from Mr. True going a little overboard with his opinions on which Ramones songs are good and which ones suck, this is a great account of a band that had high hopes for mainstream stardom, only to be repeatedly disappointed by slim record sales. Down but not out, Joey remained optimistic while Johnny grew bitter. Joey loved working with Phil Spector, Johnny walked out on Phil Spector (Everett True recounts the arguments between Johnny Ramone and Phil Spector, which are truly chilling in hindsight of Spector's pending murder charges in the shooting of Lana Clarkson, which happened after the book was published). Somewhere down the road, Johnny married Joey's girlfriend (which sparked the above-mentioned silent treatment). Oil and vinegar. Night and day. Itchy and Scratchy. These guys worked their asses off.

Did they make a decent living? Yes, but they were by no means the champagne breakfast, dipped-in-coke, jet-setting hotel room-trashing prima-donnas we've seen so much of in the Hollywood and the music industry. They made this living through nose-to-the-grindstone work. Their work ethic was so powerful they never had trouble getting gigs, because every promoter knew they could rely on The Ramones to show up come hell or high water, in sickness or in health. They didn't struggle, they worked. No matter how sick they were or how pissed off they got at one another, they made certain their fans were treated to the high-octane show they paid for. A cancellation by The Ramones was an extremely rare occurrence.

Work ethic. While The Ramones' legacy is multi-tiered, their work ethic is what makes these cats stand out from the crowd in my view, and it is that work ethic that the everyday Joes and Janes could learn from. It's funny; if you've worked enough jobs, you find that group dynamics are similar everywhere you go. Prolific in these group dynamics are the high volumes of folks who continuously bitch about their coworkers, their job classification, and getting screwed by "the man." They never quit the job or search for greener pastures, but do a half-assed job as a means of passive revenge. I'm one of millions who work a clerical job, and believe me, there are many times I get irritated and would like to give the occasional annoying co-worker a shout-in-the-face. But the co-worker and I owe our employers and clients a job well done. I think long and hard before I pitch a complaint. That's because I think of the unlikely history made by of a band of guys who kept their integrity, who signed onto a job to deliver a solid night's work to paying customers, who never cut a show short because they had a scratchy throat or a sprained wrist. The Ramones worked hard for the people who paid their salary, even though they were sick of each other, and sick of watching younger rock groups -many who were inspired by The Ramones- fly past them on the record charts and to the bank.

So when I look at the now infamous family crest of The Ramones on a t-shirt, I see the band that was slighted by mainstream media in their day, but influenced scores of musicians shining brightly in today's mainstream. Like many great artists and poets, their presence increases every year since they departed as a group. I see Ramones t-shirts on the backs of multi-generational folks everywhere, from grade school kids to us aging baby-boomers. I may be way past my fanboy days, but I am a proud mark for The Ramones. And I can't help but think that if The Ramones gave in to their communal demons and split up in short order, we would no longer see the names JOEY JOHNNY TOMMY DEE DEE encircling the eagle clutching a baseball bat on t-shirts today.