A Quote by Barry Goldberg

Once we played at the Fillmore opposite The Cream. Eric Clapton was there and he played his ass off that night ... backstage Michael Bloomfield introduced me to Eric, and Eric was so nice. He came up to me, put his arms around me and said "Barry, it's such a pleasure to meet you" ... I couldn't figure it out... then Michael told me that he had told Eric I had cancer and two months to live...
I became so desperate that I considered throwing Eric [Beck] off the ledge. I thought I could get down and then lie about what had happened. To my addled brain, this was plausible. Then I came to my senses and woke Eric up and told him that either he had to retreat or I'd throw him off. We went down and I never climbed again for a quarter of a century.
I decided early on that I wanted to be Michael Bloomfield, Jeff Beck and Eric Clapton - not George Harrison.
Eric turned to me, kissed me on the lips very lightly, and looked at my face for a long moment. “He’ll spare you,” Eric said, and I understood he wasn’t really talking to me but to himself. “You’re too unique to waste.” And then he opened the door.
I'm no spring chicken. The same arthritis that ate up my left hip that finally got replaced hasn't stopped there... And touring is a lot of work. I'm impressed when I see people like Eric Clapton out there. Gee whiz, Eric, give me a break! I know it's gotta hurt somewhere.
Wow," I said, since it was all I could think of to say. "Wow. That's some outfit." When you've got a big guy wearing Lycra it doesn't leave a whole lot to the imagination. I resisted the temptation to ask Eric to turn around. "I don't believe I could be convincing as a queen," Eric said, "but I decided this sent such a mixed signal, almost anything was possible." He fluttered his eyelashes at me. Eric was definitely enjoying this. "Oh, yes," I said, trying to find somewhere else to look. (Living Dead in Dallas)
I stroked Eric's hair, tucking some behind his ear. His eyes on mine were intent, and I knew he was waiting for me to speak. "I wish," I said, "I could save orgasms in a jar for when i need them, because I think I had a few extra." Eric's eyes widened, and all of a sudden he roared with laughter. (Dead to the World)
As I climbed up into the high old bed, the large fly in my personal ointment did the same. Had I actually told him he could get in bed with me? Well, I decided, as I wriggled down under the soft old sheets and the blanket and the comforter, if Eric had designs on me, I was just too tired to care. "Woman?" "Hmmm?" "What's your name?" "Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse." "Thank you, Sookie." "Welcome, Eric.
A dog – a collie – went up to Eric, looked up at his face, and growled. “Shoo,” Eric said, making an imperious gesture with his hand.
My first film I made, "Permanent Vacation," we shot in 1979 for like $12,000, part of which I got a fake car loan for that Amos Poe told me you could do that. And, yeah, I had no idea what I was doing. It was just like, well, we're going to try and do this. Partly because I had been following Amos Poe and Eric Mitchell around for about a year, and I worked on some of Eric's films as a sound recordist and stuff.
I know he played on the last record but I don't wake up in the middle of the night thinking of Eric Clapton.
You'll have to ask Bill that, Sookie. And this is the only reason we're going? You're not cleverly using this as an excuse to make out with me?" "I'm not that clever, Eric." "I think you deceive yourself, Sookie," Eric said with a brilliant smile.
I am here," Eric said. "And I am here." I was a little amused at Eric's phone answering technique. "Sookie, my little bullet-sucker," he said, sounding fond and warm. "Eric, my big bullshitter.
Too bad you didn't just take Max up on his offer, Four. Well, too bad for you, anyway," says Eric quietly as he clicks the bullet into its chamber. My lungs burn; I haven't breathed in almost a minute. I see Tobias's hand twitch in the corner of my eye, but my hand is already on my gun. I press the barrel to Eric's forehead. His eyes widen, and his face goes slack, and for a second he looks like another sleeping Dauntless soldier. My index finger hovers over the trigger. "Get your gun away from his head," I say. "You won't shoot me," Eric replies. "Interesting theory. " I say.
I think guitar-wise, Eric Clapton was a big influence on me. I got to spend time around him. He's kind of strange, mysterious, serious and he always has played such hot guitar.
Eric moved the broom experimentally and made an attempt to sweep the glass into the pan while it lay in the middle of the floor. Of course, the pan slid away. Eric scowled. I'd finally found something Eric did poorly.
...But also because I find I really do…" He paused, as if he were about to say something outrageous. "I find I have feelings for you." "Oh," I said into his chest, sounding as astonished as Eric had(...)"Eric," I said, after a long pause, "I almost hate to say this, but I have feelings for you, too.
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