An Oklahoma City legend left us this week. His name was Ray Duvall, AKA “Ray Ray,” or “Ray Ray Drink All Day.”
If you’ve never met him, he’s hard to describe, but I’ll try.
Ray Ray was a crazy little fucking gremlin of a person who lived for metal. Touring bands knew him. Everyone here in the metal scene knew him. He was the epitome of what you’d call a “superfan.” He had all these crazy rhyming nicknames for people and local bands, and his pure, childlike, unbridled enthusiasm for the music was a beautiful thing.
He’d often climb onstage, seize the mic and start drunkenly ranting about metal, and it was great. Nobody knew what the fuck he was talking about half the time, but it didn’t matter. Everyone loved it and we all laughed, but we weren’t making fun of him. He was an icon. People loved and took care of him and looked out for him. He was a special person, and I’ve never met anyone like him. He was always so full of energy, always running, bumming beers off people, yelling out the randomest shit, and he even had his own catchphrases. My favorite was always “Keep it eighties, ladies!” I once saw him pour a beer into a girl’s shoe and then drink it.
My Facebook feed is packed with Ray Ray stories and memes right now. So is my wife’s, and she doesn’t have a lot of friends in that scene. Everyone knows Ray Ray through someone. I spoke with him nearly every time I saw him, but I didn’t “know” him, per say, not like the people who drove him around and hung out with him and was a part of his everyday life. And I’ve never seen him sober. But I know he was one in a million. There will never be another.
Yeah, he was annoying as fuck, but in a lovable way. He’d come up to you talking some crazy gibberish and you couldn’t help but smile, as you can see in this rare pic of me smiling.
So he was a drunk, yeah, but he owned it. If you’re going to be a drunk, do it right. He did. RIP, you crazy fucker.
Edit: Heard he just went to sleep in his chair blasting death angel and passed. That seems perfect.