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a band's story


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Well to answer many of the questions and comments you all have asked I will tell a story. Not just any story it is the story of hardship and pain.


It all started when my lovely and talented wife was a mer youngster and her daddy bought her a piano. It was a beautiful baby grand that had originally been made for the 1984 Olympic games held in LA. You remember that was the one the Russians refused to attend. Anyway I digress. This beautiful piano inspired the young Beverly to become an accomplished classically trained pianist. Beverly was also very lucky to be born in the land of the Blue Grass. Yes that is deep in the Appellation Mountains in Eastern Kentucky. There was always music in the air. She excelled at all types of music.


Meanwhile in Central Indiana I was blowing chuncks on my buddy Tom's Gibson Songwriter acoustic. This was a common occurrence at the Ranch (designated jam house). Play a little .. puke.. play more... louder... puke...the fun never ended. Just to add some variety to the sessions sometimes we would go straight to the puking. Yee Haa!


Deep in the Hollers of Easter Kentucky a star was born. The angels wept with the sound of her song.


Oh, I almost forgot Frank (drummer) and Doug (bass) got drunk followed by a bar fight and made inapproiate comments about the club owners wife. And they sware they don't remember any of it.


Then one day they all arrived at the same jam session and remained true to form. Bev sang like an angel, I puked, Frank and Doug got drunk and fought and made inapproiate comments about the neighbors dog.


So now you know the sad story.



Act VI Post-apocalyptic

Bev ascended to the heavens from which she had borrowed her song. Then was returned due to lack of morals. I sought and received medical attention from a Gastroenterologist for the vomiting thing. I now only blow chuncks if Hip-Hop, Modern Country, or anything by Metallica comes on the radio. Doug (bass) has graduated from an idiot savant to simply savant. He now only answer with the catch phrase "YOU KNOW THAT'S RIGHT". Frank (drums) is still making inappropriate comments to club owner's wives and suffers from a peculiar disorder leaving his eyes permanently blackend. We think its a defense mechanism which keeps bar flies from punching him in the face, fearing he had already been beaten earlier that evening.






The band has finally hit the bottom and found there was no way to go but up. First in a band meeting we decided to attend a 48 step program to escape the clutches of the bottle. Leaving nothing to chance we attended 12 step programs in each of the worlds 4 major religions. It did get a bit confusing at times since I, Bev, or Frank(drums) don't speak Arabic. Doug(bass) had no such problems understanding. His savant status not only makes him a musical genius but also instantly translates Arabic to English. He can even speak fluent horse, dog and gerbil.


Side Point: Doug (bass) can calculate Pi to 100 decimal points. I have herd him do it. Although I never actually checked if it was correct..hmmm...


Were now a clean and sober band. Well sober anyway. That is when not playing music. It was decided to only hit the bottle while playing music. Double shots if any of the crowd request "Eye of the Tiger". Come on there are a few songs that require extra booze. You understand. "Eye of the Tiger, Heat of the moment (Asia), and Money Money" are on anyones list. Not to mention "Sweet Home Alabama and Free Bird".


Updates Forthcoming

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My former avatar was my son (turned 9 today). He rocks, can play the begining solo in Lala and Heart Breaker. He rocks. That guitar is my old music Man (ernie ball). It's his now and Doug (bass player / artist) recently panted a Kraken (giant scary squid) on it for him. Very cool, if a bit gaudy. He (my son) loves it.

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