All Around Me - Chapter 5 - Gig

[Dano]

Hank and Ian were a couple of good old boys from Homer, Louisiana. They had grown up together, and dreamed big. For Christmas when he was 12, Hank's daddy had gotten his firstborn a cheap Japanese knockoff guitar. Hank immediately sequestered himself in his room, learning to play along with his tapes. Somewhere around 2 in the afternoon his buddy Ian had come bounding across the neighborhood, anxious to show Hank his new Yuleprizes, but that guitar immediately doused his flames.

The boys spent massive amounts of time up in that attic bedroom, learning how to play. Neither one of them ever had a formal lesson. They sat and deconstructed the guitar lines to every Ratt, Poison, Whitesnake and Winger tape at their disposal. When they had gotten them down, they moved on to Ian's sister's heavier stuff, Metallica and Slayer and whatnot.

In the summer of 1992, Hank's daddy took his firstborn (along with a few of the little ones) to Shreveport to see an old friend of his. This friend was a musician, a guitar player. He played in a roots-based band, covering the spectrum of American music from rockabilly to blues to C&W to R&B to jazz to bluegrass. Young Hank had found his God. He had grown bored with playing generic hard rock in bands with his neighbor/brother Ian (who by this time had his own guitar and was actually a much better technical player than Hank.)

So, Hank went down into the basement and dug out all of his daddy's old records. His daddy had been quite the audiophile when he was younger, and there was a smorgasboard of good stuff down there. Records that in previous years had brought scorn from his son now were revered as sacred texts.

Ian wasn't as moved. He would sit there patiently and learn this new material from his friend, but after about a week, he decided to call it a day, and their musical partnership dissolved. They continued on as friends, but they drifted away from talking music.

In time, Ian's new band, the Mouthbreathers, were beginning to play a lot more, touring the deep south rather extensively, playing whatever and wherever they could. Hank had also put together a new band, the Homer Valley Revival, and they enjoyed regional success, playing a lot of bars, roadhouses and honkeytonks. He had developed into a very good player, and had also started fiddling around with other instruments; mandolin, banjo, bouzuki and dobro.

In time, they crossed paths at a festival held in Shreveport, playing one after the other. Hank watched is old friend from the wing of the stage, and Ian did the same in turn. After the show, they went out for several dozen beers. Sitting there for the first time in a few years, they let each other know how much they liked what the other was doing. They made tentative plans to hook up over Christmas and play a little.

Thanksgiving weekend, Ian's bassist and drummer, a married couple from Florida, announced that they would be quitting the band. His mother had had a stroke, and as they didn't have any other close family, they were returning to take care of her. Devastated, Ian returned to Homer, a man without a band.

A week later, Hank returned from a short tour and invited Ian over, hoping to cheer his friend up. They sat in Hank's daddy's attic like when they were kids, going back and forth, song for song, hard rock and roots music, enjoying each other's company, and learning a few things from each other.

On New Year's Eve, the Homer Valley Revival were playing a show at a club in New Orleans, and Ian was in attendence. For the encore, Hank invited his old friend up on stage to play a song they had written together on Christmas day, "Been a While". Those few moments on stage, less then 10 minutes of blazing, raging personal triumph, were enough to make these two young men realize they needed to get back together.

more soon

[Fénix]

Ooooo...more soon. Better be real soon.

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"Of course Oz will be happily nude. Everyone knows of my...admiration for nudity." ~ Oz

PROUD SLAVEBOY OF JELYMO

Enter Daredevil at Hero Realm

[Enlanra]

*grips her armrests, nails digging in* More! I must have more! (congratulations, you've driven me over the edge into complete addict status)

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"What if the silence let you dream?"

Warrior nun in training
The Official Bartender Pimpstress of the StP games

[tyledras]

keep it coming Dano!
like Enra, i'm waiting eagerly for the next piece...

[Oz]

Oh god... So good... This is by far one of the best things Dan. Geez... Love the past, the nostalgia, the description. Love it! Keep up the good work!

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"What about him? What are you doing with him?"
"What you should be doing with me..."

Proud family member of Jelymo, gollum, Kelly, Dano, Jaxom27, 5Cats, Fenix and others.

I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned

"Om Namaha Shivaya." ~ Dano

[Dano]

I pulled into Mark's driveway, narrowly avoiding a small pink bicycle. Unrolling the window and opening the door, then rolling it back up, I got out and walked towards the door. Through the screen, I could see two of his daughters looking at me. Sadie had her thumb clamped tightly in her mouth, and Delaney stood next to her holding her pillow, smiling cautiously.

"Hey girls, is your daddy home?"

Sadie nodded slowly, staring at me while Delaney simply turned and yelled, "Daddy! Mr. Connor's here!"

At the sudden burst of noise, the dog came running up from the back yard and pounced on me. I managed to keep my feet, scratching and petting the slobbermonster as he sniffed me all over. Mark appeared in the door, carrying the baby, Abbey.

"Chester! Get down! Sorry man, I'll get him."
"Don't worry about it, it's not a big deal."
"Do you want to come in? Girls, back up so Mr. Connor can come in please."

The girls backed up and Mark handed Abbey to Delaney, asking her to put her in the playpen. I walked in, the dog following and sniffing my butt the whole way. His oldest daughter, Edie, was on the floor in front of the TV, watching wrestling.

"Sorry, the house is a mess man."
"Don't worry about it."

Sure, the house was a mess, but you had to expect that with four kids and a big dog running things. He led me through the kitchen to the basement door, Sadie shyly following us.

"Sadie, do you want to come downstairs with Mr. Connor and me?"

She nodded, taking her thumb out of her mouth and holding her arms out. Mark bent down to pick her up, and turned to go down the stairs.

* * * * *

"One time, that's it."
"No, I understand that, but one time is all they're talking about."

Mark sat on the sofa with Sadie on his knee, absentmindedly playing with his shirt. I sat across from him on an old kitchen chair, noodling on his bass. His glasses kept sliding down his nose as he talked, and finally he just took them off and set them on the table.

"It's just that damn Ian kid."
"I know."
"How cocky can one kid be?"

I nodded and started plunking out the bassline to one of our old songs. He looked up and smiled.

"Daddy, can I have some milk?"
"Yeah, go upstairs and have one of your sisters get it for you, ok?"
"k."

She crawled off her father's lap and started towards the stairs, waving to me as she went. I waved back, and her thumb found its way back into her mouth.

"They aren't thinking of putting it back together permanantly, are they?"
"No, I think they've got something else going, but it's not ready to put out yet."
"Talk to Josh yet?"
"Yeah, the four of us went and had dinner the other night. Too bad you couldn't make it."
"I really don't want to be around that fucker any more than I have to be."
"Two rehearsals, one show, that's it. We've got plenty of time, too."

He nodded and wiped his glasses on his shirt. He leaned back and then sat up again.

"See, I don't have any problems with any of the rest of you, it's just that..."
"I know."
"I mean, I really like playing with you guys, you and Hank especially. He's awesome for someone so young."
"Just goes to show you can teach old dogs new tricks."
He laughed. "No kidding, I never would have thought to play with a slide without him. Just think slide bass, and it sounds great!"
"Totally."

I imitated a slide on the fretboard with my fingers, getting another laugh out of him.

"Gimme that thing, you don't know how to play it."
"Never stopped you."
"Motherfucker, give me that bass." He was smiling as he reached over, grabbing at the neck. I pulled it away.
"Back off, you play this thing all the time. Go grab a guitar, let's play something."

He stood up and headed into the other room, returning a few seconds later with a guitar and a slap to the back of my head. He sat down across from me and started tuning.

"What are we playing? It's your picking party junior."
"Let's run through some of that stuff I showed you last month. Remember any of it?"
He twisted his face in concentration. "Not really. Why don't you start and I'll try to catch up."
"Right on."

I started singing, a capella, and he nodded, remembering the melody line. He started strumming softly as I plucked out a simple bassline, building up with the song. We sat down there for about an hour, playing and talking and dealing with various daughter-inflicted interruptions. Time always seemed to stop for me when I was around Mark.

* * * * *

Little boy by the name of Tim
Neighbor of mine, lived next door to him
Got along great, the best of friends
Grown up now, see how it all ends

I'm not old but I'm a man
Trying to stay as young as I can
It just gets harder every day
Time to grow up, my father would say

We drifted apart as most friends do
Things like that happen in high school
He went his way and I went mine
Passed in the halls from time to time

On Graduation Night we got high
Howled at the moon and kissed the sky
Then next morning said goodbye
Keeping in touch was a lie

I'm not old but I'm a man
Trying to stay as young as I can
It just gets harder every day
Time to grow up, my mother would say

Tim's cleaning carpets, got a wife and kid
I'm still single, work the graveyard shift
I write these songs, it clears my mind
But I can't help missing what I've left behind

I'm not old but I'm a man
Trying to stay as young as I can
It just gets harder every day
Time to grow up, I hear myself say

[Oz]

*stifles a tear* look for me on the IM sometime soon Danoman. I really like this peice and would LOVE to talk to you about it! god....

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"What about him? What are you doing with him?"
"What you should be doing with me..."

Proud family member of Jelymo, gollum, Kelly, Dano, Jaxom27, Fenix and others.

I believe you can't appreciate real love until you've been burned

"Om Namaha Shivaya." ~ Dano

[Dano]

I walked into Deep Grooves, the local record store, intent on chatting with Josh and picking up some used nuggets out of the bin. I was in a bit of an indie/noisy/shoegazer mood, late 80s, maybe some Love & Rockets or Jesus & Mary Chain, and I remember the manager telling me about some guy who dumped his whole collection a few weeks back. Apparently he had been a college DJ buddy of his back in the day.

Up the steps, through the No-Go machine, Josh held down the fort at the counter.

"What's up brotherman?" I reached across the counter and slapped him five, sideways, two times.
"Nada. Chillin', Bob Dylan, you know." He looked out from under the sea of thick dreadlocks at the speaker above my head, playing John Wesley Harding.
"Right on. Good record. Any good stuff lately?"
"Not this week, off the top of my head." He motioned me closer with one stubby finger. "Word around the campfire is that Hank and Ian want to pull out 'Two Hands'."

I stood back up and thought about that. "What, at the end?"
"Nope, at the beginning." He laughed incredulously.
Shaking my head, poking the counter with my finger. "Nonononononononono, that's not how we start."
He backed away and shrugged. "Dude, I only report, I don't write."
"'Amazing Grace', 'Fortunate Son', that's how we start sets."
"I'm just saying what they told me, they were gonna bring it up tonight."
"Not gonna happen."
"I told them that, but they weren't listening. 'Man, we'll just ask Tom about it, see what he says.' 'Yeah yeah.'"

I don't hold a lot of things sacred, but one thing I will not budge on is the opening of our sets. We all walk out on stage and take our places. A capella, we go into 'Amazing Grace', singing in a almost completely workable 5-part harmony, fade it out, and BAM!! we launch full-bore into 'Fortunate Son'. It's genius, we've got the crowd eating out of our hands after that.

"Dude, I'm telling you, that dumbass Ian... I like playing with him and he's a great musicians, but I cannot deal with this. 'The South will rise again' my fat black ass."

A few words about Josh Carter. Yes, I agree, not the typical country-rock drummer. But, we're old friends, and he's got amazing open-ness to material. 5'2" and almost as wide, covered in tattoos and thick dreads, he looks great in his normal gig, local funk-thrash heroes 50 Eggs In An Hour, but onstage with us, it just doesn't immediately fit. A stocky black skater playing behind Cowboy Hank and Cracker Ian. Hank's cool, but Ian has this weird redneck ragged glory about him. Like if Ronnie Van Zandt fronted Nirvana or something.

"Well, we can talk about it, but it's not going to happen."
He looked me in the eye, winked, and blew me a kiss. "Hey man, what are you doing for Thanksgiving? Driving out to your folks?"
How'd he do that? He completely deflated me. And he sat there, smugly, smiling at me. That's probably why I love him so much, why we've been friends so long.
"Um, yeah, I'm picking Jeannie up at the airport tonight. We're going to my aunt and uncle's though, here in town."
"Yeah, my grandma always has a big one at her house. Totally amazing. I eat all fuckin' day dude."

[This message has been edited by Dano (edited November 22, 2000).]

[Dano's work is Groovy]

Groovy. Neat. Spiffy even.

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Dano is the grooviest of the groovy!

Worship the Danoman!