Chris Rogers is a charming array of contradictions. He’s an arty intellectual who listens to obscure Tzadik releases for fun yet never, ever trumpets his own creative achievements. He’s an introvert, and also the nexus and entry point for some of funniest, most entertaining social scenes I’ve interacted with. He’s shy and eccentric, yet has been a consistent, calming, supportive, and open-hearted presence in my life through some of its darkest passages. His most aggravating flaw is that he sells himself too short as an artist.
I met Chris in Athens, Georgia in the late ’90s, when we were colleagues at the magical college radio station WUOG and he was a member of Je Suis France, one of my favorite local bands. I liked him immediately because I thought he was a real-life Chester from Sifl and Olly, and he was one of my most valued friends years later when I moved to Los Angeles and needed friends badly. He attended my very private wedding ceremony in Las Vegas, and one my wife’s friends observed that he “did Vegas right.” If you’d just met him, that might surprise you. If you know the man, it makes perfect sense.
I asked him to contribute something so I could celebrate his birthday here, albeit a bit late. (His birthday is May 8th.) Here it is!