Tuesday, December 31, 2002

Thanks a lot, Barbara! Now, Drew and Hans are gonna get jealous of each other and start all that "choose one of us or leave us both" talk. It'll take me weeks, months maybe, to sort this out. For the record, I love them both. How can I be expected to choose?

As everyone has said, the shows were great fun. I don't have any great stories to add, but I will say thanks to everyone who came out. Thanks very much to the Nightmares for asking us to help them recreate the whole thing. I talked with John on the phone today, and we both said that we didn't have plans for New Year's because last Friday and Saturday pretty much represented our New Year's party.

I wish I could think of something to say except thanks, but I can't. So I'll just leave it at that. Happy New Year! Be safe about it, though. You'll want to be alive for when that sort of weekend ever happens again, if it ever does.


Speaking of cloning... tonight is Art Bell's last night on the air. If you don't know who that is, you don't stay up late enough!

Perhaps the Raelians can get faith based funding from Bush to clone them.....

Clone the Nightmares!

Happy New Years Eve everyone!

On behalf of the band, Brian, Kurt, Mark, Tad, and myself, I want to thank everyone who came out this weekend. To say these reunion shows were one of the highlights of my year would be an understatement. I am very humbled by the enthusiasm all the people showed us this weekend and I hope we gave back as much as we got. It is all of you that made the Nightmares the band that it was. If it was not for all our fans in JC and the other clubs we played on the chitlin' circuit, this band would have been a footnote in my life. Instead, it has been a life changing experience. All of you are like my extended family and this was a fantastic family reunion.

It has taken several days for me just to process what happened over the weekend before I could begin to write about it on the blog. These last few months of practice with the band and the two shows this weekend has reminded me how much music is a necessary part of my life. I will always make sure that I keep it alive in my soul and I hope all of you do the same.

I want to say a special thanks to the Pleztones. Scott, Drew, James, Hans, Gary, Phil, Ron and of course Scott's dad, the elder megaplez. I'm glad that you chose to share a special weekend with all of us. You guys rocked!

Dan... what can I say. It sounded great on stage and made the shows much easier than they could have been. We could use you a sound engineer like you in Nashville. Thanks!

Many thanks to Burt for allowing us a place to gather and for keeping the club going for 20 years. That is 100 in club years. Here's to the next 20 years! Johnny Be Good!

And I can't forget the Down Home. If they did not exist, I don't think the I would have done the things I did with music. They gave me an outlet for my early musical adventures (Andy Boy, one of the many members of Final Curtain, etc.) when I was in high school as well as a place for the early Nightmares to germinate unencumbered by actually being able to play on stage. Thank god for sunglasses.

Thank you all for one amazing time. I could not think of a more fitting end to 2002.

Everyone be safe tonight and have a Happy New Year!

Julie: If you are using Windoze, move mouse over the picture and click the right mouse button. From the popup menu, select Save Picture As...
It will be saved as a bitmap file.

Tad playing guitar on "Little Bit of You":

Keith Smith and Mark


50 years ago tonight - somewheres betwixt Knoxville and Oak Hill, WV - Hank Williams died.

Recorded by: Hank Williams, Sr.
Written by: Hank Williams, Sr.

I can [Am] settle down and be doin' just fine
Til I [E7] hear an old train rollin' down the [Am] line
Then I hurry straight home and pack
And if I [E7] didn't go, I believe I'd blow my [Am] stack
I love you baby, but you gotta understand
When the [E7] Lord made me
He made a Ramblin' [Am] Man.

Some folks might say that I'm no good
That I wouldn't settle down if I could
But when that open road starts to callin' me
There's somethin' o'er the hill that I gotta see
Sometimes it's hard but you gotta understand
When the Lord made me, He made a Ramblin' Man.

I love to see the towns a-passin' by
And to ride these rails 'neath God's blue sky
Let me travel this land from the mountains to the sea
'Cause that's the life I believe He meant for me
And when I'm gone and at my grave you stand
Just say God called home your Ramblin' Man.

See Wayne Bledsoe's Articles from the knoxnews.com site:

The Night Hank Died

Legendary Country Artist Still Influential

Tell what? $50 an hour in unreported income???

Tell it to the IRS, Bill.

Monday, December 30, 2002

And so "Elizabeth", if you admit you are paid to be "Elizabeth", you verify my account and thus prove you do not exist! Ha!

I'm always flattered to be confused with Drew...And I still say Brook owes me $100 for that, not $50.

Don't be fooled Mike, Brook tried Saturday night to prove to me the existence of Elizabeth Williams, by way of introducing me to her. When I confronted Brook that she had merely paid this person to say she was "Miss Williams", Brook admitted that she paid her $50 an hour. This was in the parking lot during the break and was captured on video by Brook. In addition, once back inside I introduced Bruce Honeycutt to a person that looked by the inside light like the one Brook introduced me to, it turned out to be none other than Drew. The video speaks for itself, but you can ask Bruce about this second incident....proof, as if more were needed!!!!

this message is actually from me...mike hilla-herd!
I know you think it's actually lisa williams, but, it's
I am so very lucky to have great friends out there.
The nightmare/plez shows made me a heppy, heppy
god bless you buncha nose pickers!!!!

Ah yes, equal opportunity. There were annoying drunk men, too. But, on this night it was the ladies causing me the most trouble (story of my life.. heh heh).

David, thanks for the CD version of the Buck Fifty recordings. I've actually got three of the original tapes (that still have the Back Door price tag on 'em, believe it or not), but a CD will last much longer. The musician in me grimaces at some of those recordings. But, it's very cool to have such a historical document.

Other interesting moments of the weekend: 1) Marion still remembering that I always ordered a slice of cheese and a mountain dew everytime I came in the joint; 2) Momentarily losing my coat (which contained said Buck Fifty CD and my cell phone), only to find that good people (Lisa and Sarah) had moved it with theirs to the side; 3) Seeing a "Scullsoup" flyer in the entrance (do they still play???); 4) Wishing I could show off my favorite new hobby (swing dancing) during a few of the nightmares tunes, but not having nearly enough room to do it. :)


Alan: The pictures are great, and I wish I could somehow download them as a screensaver or somethin’. And good to hear the run-down of the Friday set and Saturday’s encores, since I wasn’t there for those.

Man, I’ve never in my life seen my brother dance (it’s just not “him”) but he sure was cuttin’ a rug at that show! I think he was impressed that I know such cool, smart, talented people. I almost wish I had been there Friday instead though, since Saturday was so crowded, and we ended up staring at a bunch of unattractive ass even though we had a primo table up front. Who were those people on the stage anyway? Does anyone know who they were? (If anyone out there was one of them, I didn’t mean YOUR ass.) Also, I missed seeing a bunch of the old UH crowd Friday--Michael Miller, Martin, Doug Powell, and others. I did see Phil Bowman though and had trouble remembering his damn name. Unnerving. And Scott, you looked great and sounded great too. Todd was so happy to see you and everyone else. “American Band” absolutely rocked. I enjoyed the entire show---from start to finish. Oh, and Rodney Webb. Wow. I was SO thrilled to see him since I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. It was truly great to see all of you again. I think I’d kind of forgotten how much fun it really was.

Drunk women having no respect for others? Hopefully, you’re not talking about my wife. Actually, don’t pick on the women, there were some drunk men having no respect for others too. OK, so I had enough to constitute a fearful bar tab, but I think I stayed respectful. Donna had to fend off a very rude encroacher who persisted in holding a cigarette to her face. Finally she pushed him away and told him to back off. After all, we carved out our little spot in front of Kurt and managed to hold ground there for both nights. Saturday I wore an awful coat that didn’t fit and ended up throwing it on the floor and letting Kim Blevins use it as a dance matt since her shoes were killing her and she was dying to take them off.

I had an absolute ball seeing everyone too. Barbara, wow, you looked great, and it was wonderful to see you and Drew again. I even checked in with the mysterious Elizabeth Williams. Gary, I wanted to introduce you to Donna, but the show started, I went nuts, and when the smoke finally cleared I guess you were already gone. Donna said Guffey motioned her over to meet you, but I was somewhere else and she was stuck defending our spot, which had our stuff (drinks, purse, coats, and most importantly, prime dance real estate). Look us up next time you’re in town.

Finally, after the shows we hung around just to gush to the band guys about how great they were. I’ve had a pretty full plate in life lately, so it was a pleasant switch to just be a music fan-boy again for a short while. To the Pleztones and the Nightmares, again, I salute you. How about next Christmas?

First time to try uploading images. Hope this works (fingers crossed).

What can I say? They were great. So much energy between the crowd and the band. Now I have many of those great songs swirling around in my brain for the first time in 12 years! Brian mentioned to the crowd that the last time all 4 were on stage together, Ronald Reagan was in the White House.

Heard that John Smith has the original tapes of their two studio releases and is planning to release a CD(s). Is this correct?

Friday night really rocked. The local cable company taped the first set only. I saw many "ghosts" both nights. By ghosts I mean people that I recognized from the old days but never knew their names. Hello ghosts!!!

Kurt played his old Telecaster with his Mom's (correct?) picture on it and thru the same Fender amp he bought in '88.

Brian played a black Rickenbacker. Similar to the natural stained Rickenbacker he bought at the Roan St. Gulf station (with his gas card).

John Smith brought all his basses including a 12 string! Never seen one of those before. Total bass string count: 28!

Bleu Jackson was there Friday night looking eerily like David Lee Roth. Should've taken his picture.

I called out for "Eye of the Tiger", "Brick House" and "She Thinks I Still Care" 0 for 3.

OK - Friday night set list:

Set 1

Forget About You
Keep Walking
Good Guys Don't Wear White (The Standells - finally I know who did this song originally!)

Desperate Hyway
Easy Way Out
She's So Tall (this one kicked ass! Strained a neck muscle pogo-ing to it).

I Am a Rock Primitive Rose
Lizard Song
Can't Touch an Angel (with glowing mirrorball on Saturday night! Holy Vishnu!)

Little Bit of You
Route 66
All You Do Is Sin

Set 2 (my opinion the best of the 4 sets played over the weekend):

Talk Too Much
Whip It

Runaway Trains
Nash County
Ramblin Man

Hyway Song
Look the Other Way
You Think of Me

Jonesboro Woman
Going Nowhere

When Your Heart Gets Ripped in 2
These Boots Were Made for Walkin'
Johnny B. Goode (with special guest vocalist Burt!)
I Wanna Rock n' Roll All Night (Mark Ryalls on vocals)

Saturday night. Not much dancing space. Very crowded. Brian and Kurt couldn't keep their guitars in tune, especially Kurt's Gretsch. A much looser night (music wise).

Set 1:

same as Friday night except for one surprise.

When they played "Little Bit of You" they brought Tad Dickens up on stage to play guitar. Very Kool. Tad and Mark shook hands on stage (a very "VH1: Behind the Music" moment).

Set 2:

Same as Friday night except after "Whip It" they inserted the Cramps' "New Kind of Kick."

After "Look the Other Way", they played "Daydream" instead of "You Think of Me"

First Encore:

Johnny B. Goode (w/ Burrrrt)
Paint It Black (I called out for this one!)
These Boots...
Shake It All Over (Johnny Kidd and the Pirates)
Get Out Baby

(Brian's soliloquy for Get Out Baby involved meeting a woman in a sports bar who is throwing chicken wing bones at the TV while watching a hockey game. He is on a junket and invites her upstairs. Things are going smoothly until he invites her to a Titans football game. She's an Eagles' fan and tells him to "GET OUT!!!")

Second Encore:

What's Her Name (Warren Zevon)
I Wanna Rock n' Roll All Night

the photos are now available. security setting was not set to public.


Yes, Gary's comment inspires me to share the last night's SCARIEST moment: Standing in the shadows under the left balcony, Drew nudged me and asked, "Is that a belly chick on Scott?" And sure enough, it was. She managed to back the Megaplez into a corner by doing what looked like a crab-claw twisting of chunks of his flesh. Not to fear. Scott's honor was deftly defended by the luscious Leslie Landreth, as gracious and true a babe as ever was on this earth. I swear the thought cloud above her head said, "There are certain things up with which one will not put." Meanwhile, I think Sara and I were doing a subconscious mental inventory of the empty beer bottles close at hand and their various methods of deployment.

Good people, good people. I got home after the Saturday nightmares show and realized that I'd been smiling for 5 solid hours. From the moment I walked into the room (which in itself took a little while due to a mix up with the ticketweb report they had at the door... thanks for saving us Brook!) to the time that we left, I just grinned. It was an absolute thrill to see people that I'd not seen in such a long time. Plez, Leslie, Barbara, Lisa, Sarah, Brook, Ditty, David, Bobby, Whit, Julia, Drew, Hans, Phil Bowman, Mike Hilliard (who is not only JC royalty, but also one of my favorite humans), John, Marion, and Kurt. Seeing Kurt on stage again really made me miss being in Gumption. Different era, but still very good times. I know there are others who I'm forgetting. But, it was the type of reunion that I will appreciate for some time to come.

Of course, there were aspects of the show that made me remember things that I *didn't* like about nightmares shows in "the era," specifically drunk women dancing and having absolutely no respect for the space of others. But, putting up with that was well worth the the memories.

I didn't get to say goodbye to many folks as we darted out rather quickly toward the end of the night. But, it was really great to see everyone.


The Yahoo folder claims to be empty......

Can't sign in to Yahoo. How about posting a few to the blog?

Alan! So that was you! I was on the other side of the stage from you. Sorry I didn't recognize you. Hangover goggles.

I have uploaded some pix from the Nightmare shows (click on Nightmar... folder).
The profoundly bald guy with glasses is me.
Sorry about the quality of some of the pics. Cheap digital camera and beer goggles.

See them here:


Not to change the subject, as kudos are greatly due to those 'mare boys,,,, but I am curious; Will the Raelians be applying for funding from George Bush as a "Faith Based Charity?"

Sunday, December 29, 2002

JC Reunion shows, woo-HOO!! Not a finer time to be had, y'all. It's just like riding a bicycle, now ain't it! TOUR!! TOUR!! Tour...? What's scary for me is how totally adapted I am to rock&roll hours again, what Kurt referred to last night as "the legendary Johnson City party pace"...less than two days, it's all right back with me. I know exactly how to do THIS lifestyle choice. It took me ten years to get used to getting up at 8 o'clock. And it still sucks ass. Where's the bus?

What a blast to see Rodney Webb, Gary Miller, Bobby, David Guffey, Martin Patrick, Leslie, Pat & Angie, Jael...And with kids! The second generation is shaping up. Remember parents, keep working on that plan for global domination. (Found myself thinking about Mike and Lynne an awful lot these past few days, also.) Brook and I collected a gob of new email addresses, so look for fresh bloggers soon.

Major props go, too, to the Plezbygod and the 'Tonesbygod and their stellar roster of guest artists, the mighty Hans Rotenberry (who writes a mean haiku, too, by the way), Mike Hilliard, who is rock&roll royalty in this town, too (even though I know he'll never see this) and then...The Professor. Next time your car gets a flat in the pouring rain, stop a moment and picture in your mind...The Professor. I defy a smile to come to your face. Kudos, sir.

Damn fine show, Thanks Guys!! more later, when I have slept.....

Thursday, December 26, 2002

hey fellow bloggerts -- since there's been a bunch of confusion about tickets for the nightmare's gig this weekend... thought i'd give a run down.

if you've purchased tickets thru ticketweb, you are good to go. if you have purchased them and are picking them up on a willcall basis, you are also good to go (brian even made your willcall pickup envelopes for ya).

if you are waiting to purchase tickets at the door, here's the deal --

FRIDAY: you can purchase on ticketweb until noon. after that, the remainder will be available at the door. it looks like there might be 50 left for the door on friday after the noon deadline. maybe more. if you show up early on friday, i think you will be able to get tickets at the door.

SATURDAY, there's only 24 tickets left as of tonite, thursday, so i doubt there will be any at the door by deadline (sat noon). get them on ticketweb now if you need saturday tickets.

that's all -- hope santa was good to everyone. if yer in JC and have nothing planned, get down to the casbah tonite to see scott pleasant do an acoustic set.

Hicks has been requested to blog, TWICE. Everyone feel free to arm twist in any fashion you can come up with, as my attempts have apparently failed thus far.

Yes, I have no life. That’s why I’m writing the day after Christmas. Weird thing happened yesterday. I typed in an obituary at work for a guy, and one of the pallbearers was one Johnny Hicks. After work, I went to the Down Home and who was there but..Johnny Hicks. Said he wasn’t attending any funerals. I think he needs an invitation to blog. He said he might come to the Saturday night show. So maybe we’ll all see him there, sporting a short, conservative hairstyle and an L.L. Bean-type jacket. He lives in Knoxville now.

Wednesday, December 25, 2002

Hello fellow bloggers. Truly sad to hear of Joe Strummer's passing. I went to sleep last night with Rock the Casbah ringing in my head.On a lighter note, hope all will have a great Christmas. Listen to the Charlie Brown Christmas album, always does wonders for me.

Monday, December 23, 2002

Damn, I was just gonna' say that. Sad as hell. Truly.

Damn, Joe Strummer is dead.

Sunday, December 22, 2002

The vomit's coming, Bill. I promise.
To Continue the story, however.....
I just assumed that Bruce and I were personally banned from the Down Home. After a half hour or so on the sidewalk, explaining to Bruce what happened to him , we went on to QBs to share our adventure with Bill, Rick and Roland. A big laugh was had by all and the incicent was quickly buried beneath the next pitcher of beer.
Shortly after this incident, the Johnson City Press decided that perhaps the JC music scene might be more interesting than the newest apple pie recipe. Kudos to all for garnering their interest. Down Home being the premier musical venue, Phil, by god, Leonard was the one interviewed and quoted in the article. At that point in time, there were the 'mares, Catfish Special (Brian's brother, Chip "Dead Eye" Justice and the effervescent Roland Tester), and Final Curtain.
In this article, we discovered a few of things that we didn't know before:

1) Down Home is a music club (we thought they were closed on mondays for religious reasons)
2) Final Curtain didn't play music (E A D G C still sound like music to me)
3) Final Curtain would no longer be playing at the Down Home {thanks, Phil, by god, Leonard for telling us before a public humiliation)

We were all shocked and dumbfounded. Yes, I'M an asshole, but how the hell did Bruce's bleeding pate lead us to this point?

Alright Bill , you want vomit and lots of it. I will tell you a story about my youngest daughter Bonnie . When she was maybe 3 months old she was perhaps the best mass producer of projectile vomit the world has seen since little Regan in The Exorsist. Good volume, perfect viscosity, and a silky smooth texture. One afternoon my lovely wife Marsha was about to put the little nipper in her hi chair, when li'l Bonnie decided to spray vomit all over the dining room carpet, walls furniture and all. This in itself is bad but Marsha was in a panic and kept holding our beautiful baby girl while she was doing her best pressure driven spooge hose imitation. Whatever was in the direction Marsha turned with Bonnie, recived a good base and top coat of oatmeal and formula. We had to remodel the dining room after that. I won't get into all the baby poop stories til later

I'm still spinning somewhere between Bert Bacharach and Julie Tomita. Merry Christmas everyone.

Nice one Roland, and good to see you back on the blog.... That incident was actually the one I was fishing for in my previous "We all need a vomit story" post. As I recall, GSI briefly changed it's name to "Unexpected Vomit" as a result!

Merry Christmas to all. At one time I was too lazy to mail Christmas cards. Now, thanks to advanced technology, I am too lazy to E-mail Christmas cards.

Actually, Dave, the place where "The Plain Truth" played was called "Shooter's Lanes"; it was on Walnut Street;
"The Syndicate" (a band that Jeff Campbell and myself had) played there in 82-83; the guy that owned the place at the time was a former member of "Blue Cheer"
...thanks for the wine, cheese and vomit story (I laughed so hard I hurt myself)
...and now a brief vomit story starring Bruce...
it was one night at James Arwood's place and GSI (the Giant Spider Invasion) was taking a break from practice. James fired up a joint (I demurred) and passed it to Bruce who took a giant drag off of it that must've gone down the wrong way because Bruce's liquid refreshment that he had consumed promptly came up; "BLOOP BLOOP", quoth he, as James, myself, and Julie Tomita laughed hysterically.
...ah, but sure'n there were giants in those days...

Saturday, December 21, 2002

Does anybody remember "Slut Red Raspberries in Chardonny Jelly?"


the longest vomit story....Bill, we all will hail hail to your battle cry.
This is a little ditty about Final curtain getting banned from the Down Home while most of it's members were having a quiet beer at Quarterbacks. A couple of qualifiers first, tho.....
Whoever came up with the idea of soaking sheets of paper in psychotronics was a genius. What better way to control a group of people that can change the world then by giving them the opportunity to to do it from inside themselves.
Bruce and i were indulging in certain pleasures and somehow wound up at Down Home as the nightmares were playing. The above noted pleasures involved some kind of barbs for Bruce, a coupla pieces of paper for me and lot's of Tequila....I remember lot's of Tequila.
At any rate, Brian and the boys played one of their token KISS songs and we all got up and started dancing. Bruce made the mistake of bouncing into some redneck's chair. Bubba got up and promptly smashed his budweiser bottle on Bruce's head. No "hey there, asshole" or any thing - just glass splattering and bruce unconscious on the dance floor
I, in one of my rare instances of angst, took exception to this redneck clocking my friend with a beer bottle. Bad form whoever you were. As I tried to gather Bruce's bleeding cranium from the dance floor, who should appear? Phil , by god, Leonard. I tried to explain to him, rationally, what had occured, but as I was the guitar player for Final Curtain, he had nothing to do but decide it was my fault.
I picked Bruce up and got him walking - not coherent but mobile - then Phil , by god, Leonard decided that we were a blemish on the face of the Down Home and asked us to leave.
For those of you who didn't know me back then, I was a little edgy...easily pissed off. I tried to reason with Phil , by god, Leonard and explain what had happened and he decided that the best course of action was to touch me. Remember, my brothers and sisters, I was edgy and not happy about being here, so I threw him against the rail that seperated the booths from the tables.
I then collected the gelatinous Honeycuttand we proceeded to QB's to let the rest of the band know that we had been officially kicked out of the Down Home.

End part one.....Don't worry, Bill. There will be vomit in this story eventually

Friday, December 20, 2002

Hmmm, a vomit story from former Final Curtain members you say.
Dang, Bill where do i begin. I fondly remember all the times growing up
waking up at your house, covered in vomit
(now that I think of it I hope it was my own vomit) too scared to
open my eyes because i had absolutly
no idea where i was or how i got there.
Geez Bill how much dried vomit do you think was inside the passenger door on the old Valiant?
And Roland dont feel you are the only one who never made it in the house but i did have a pillow of hamburgers and a 6 pack of Moosehead to
keep me company wlile I slept in the back yard. Amd one of my favorite puke stories was when i was married to
my first wife. It was a New years party i think...well any way. I think Bill was there. I remember we were at friend of ours , who by the way looked like Andy Summers.
I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking beer out of a friut jar eating an apple when all the beer and fiber from the apple melded in to something sick and wrong and it wanted out of my innards. I stood up and headed for the restroom but i was too slow, and the whole mess erupted from every orifice in my head. I slipped on the vomit and fell to the floor covered in my own filth, writhing around like a beached walrus. Let this be a lesson kids Just say no to drugs and alcohol. Thats all for now folks.

Plez here.

Bobby: glad to hear the marriage is still going strong. We enjoyed playing your wedding party at Makato's. We drank for free, ate shrimp, flirted with the teenage cousins in the crowd, and got paid. And we got the pleasure of seeing your combimed families try to understand how in the heck these guys could be considered a wedding band. Doing the hokey pokey with you and Donna and your two families: that was interesting. We had to do something to make 'em all quit giving us the finger.

I have a good heckler story to tell, but it's about a show in Alabama a few years after the old Johnson City scene sort of blew up. Anyway, I used to play at this tiny little crudhole bar called Gentilly Station in Auburn. It was a good place because it was definitely for the few locals in that town, not for the students at all. So anyway, I used to play there either just by myself ("Hey, you know any David Allan Coe?") or with a woman who played the keyboard. It was not exactly the kind of gig that would advance your career. It was the kind of gig where people would ask me to do Jimmy Buffet, and I'd just play whatever little bit I could half remember from "Margaritaville" or whatever, and that'd be good enough for a free shot of Jack from some appreciative Alabama farmhand. So anyway, one night, the keyboard player and I decided to just see how much they were listening and--I remember this very clearly now--after we finished a Clint Black song, we played the Bert Bacharach hit "This Guy's in Love With You." You all remember that one, huh? Made famous by Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass: "You see this guy. This guy's in love with you." Not what the crowd was expecting. About 4 bars into the vocal, the inebriated woman sitting right in front of me stands up, about 1 inch from my face now, and starts this: "You suuuuuuuck! Quit plaaaaaaaaaying! You suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!"

No kidding around--I consider it one of my proudest moments on stage that we didn't stop until we played every note of that song. We took a break after that song, and her husband came over and bought me a beer. We played that song at EVERY Gentilly Station show after that, but it was never quite that good again.

Sadly, Gentilly Station closed for a while and the reopened as Bubba's. Last time I was in Auburn, I walked in there. It was exactly the same. I guess the name change was an attempt to reach their target market more effectively.


Oh, hear my warning, never turn your back on....The RIPPER

Thursday, December 19, 2002

Those were Judas Priest lyrics by the way. should've chosen different ones, but I like condition and ammunition.
I was remembering a party at someone's apartment on Poplar Street, where a whole bunch of people started playing music with kitchen utensils--spoons, pots and pans. Martin and Donnie were there, I remember. It was an upstairs apartment in a house at the corner of Poplar and Buffalo.

Another story from me...

Uncle Green was always a JC favorite. Even though they were from Atlanta, they were like JC adopted sons. Buck Fifty once opened for them at the Highlander. Fast forward about two years, and I'm living in Murfreesboro finishing up my bachelor's degree. Uncle Green was playing in nashville. So, I trek down to see them. I run into them standing outside the Exit/Inn, and before I can say anything, one of them says, "Buck Fifty man!" This blows me away, becuase unlike many other folks, I never got to know them in their many trips to JC. So, we procede to have a nice conversation and I see them rock it out later.

Fast forward again, this time about 5 years. In 1999 I arrived in Atlanta with a new job in a new city. On my third day of work, I head over to the student center to help out with international orientation. One of the campus tour guides is looking familiar to me, and I realized it was Pete, Uncle Green's drummer. So, I wander over, still not 100 percent sure it's him, and ask "are you a drummer." He recognizes me instantly. "Buck Fifty man!" Spooky the memory those cats have.

I remember seeing them at the Pub once and they rocked out so hard, and we were all dancing like crazy (note for another story... when, why and how did the Twist become the official dance that JC folks did at rock shows?). After they end, Drew, Russ and I start rhythmically banging on beer bottles. We end up doing this for about 5 minutes before they come back to play another song. We all continue doing the Twist for another 15 minutes or so.

Goin' under
Hear the thunder
Death defying grace.
Your condition breeds ammunition
Shoots me in the face.

If you take what Bill said prima facia - what he said about my Rickenbacker is true. But what he has overlooked was that he had borrowed my bass, sold it, and then he told me about it and finally paid me - but I had to break my legs first to convince him to pay up (okay, I was new at this kinda thing and I got some of the instructions wrong!)

Froggy went a courtin' and he did ride, umm hmm, umm hmmm
Froggy went a courtin' and he did ride, umm hmm, umm hmmm
Froggy went a courtin' and he did ride,
Sword and pistol by his side, umm hmmm

Wednesday, December 18, 2002

And I should also mention that every member of Final Curtain needs an unexpected vomit story on the blog....

I love Judas Priest.

Whoa nelly, let me rise to my defense re: the thievery of said Rickenbacker,,Dave sold it to me for $150 when he had gotten a newer one. Along with the bass he sold me my trusty Fender Super Reverb amp. I still have the amp, although when I finally got around to retubeing it a few years back it promptly blew up....sounded killer for about 10 minutes before it's final gut wrenching demise. As Dave I am sure now recalls what irritated him about me selling it was that I bought it for $150, and sold it for $200 about a year later,,,,Ah the wonders of capitolism!!! (I am currently in the car business by the way...)

As to filling in the blanks on the Judas Priest Fan Club, I don't recall anyone of us admitting to liking Judas Priest, but I remember Donnie Poole, John Smith, Frank Spangler from University High, as well as Brian and the others from ETSU. In addition there was a deaf girl who would lip read the conversations of people that stared at us (and given our garb and Rebbeca's purple hair that was a constant.) It was about this time that I learned that Frank, John and Donnie could play, and due to that knowledge I contacted Frank in 1984 to help put together the band (5 Neat Guys) that preformed the music at the Community Theatre production of Grease. This band would form the original core of Final Curtain,,,,and the rest as they say, is history!

You know, it's my contention that the JC music thang go its start in 1983 or so. And not in the clubs and bars, but at a table in the lunch room at ETSU. And it was set into motion by a group of people that were loosely know as the "Judas Priest Fan Club." Not that any of us liked or even gave a shit about Judas Priest - It's just that by devine intervention this gaggle of individuals all happened to show up on the same day all sporting our leather jackets and someone mumbled as they walked past us "Well, looks like the Judas Priest Fan Club has showed up." Rather than being pissed at this derisive remark, we all just said "Okay, let's be that!" Now this group of musically adventursome folk included, but not limited to, Al Hobbs and Mike Mull (arguably the best fuckin' front man JC ever produced) Bill Edwards, Myself, Roland Tester, Rebecca Tanton, Karma and on occasion, Brian Nightmare. Now there were these others from University High that would come over and hang with us as we discussed and planned the JC musical landscape. Now these younger folk from the high school included Frank Spangler others that went on to become former Stinky Brothers. Al Hobbs and Mike Mull were already out there with their band, "Plain Truth." And all of the Judas Priest Fanclub folk were there at their first show, a game room whose name escapes me. But it was a GREAT show. Al and Mike were slammin and freakin as the drummer and bass player just tried like hell to hang on.
But Frankie and them other kids played that same show and had opened for Mike and Al, watching and learning. Just as they had been in the lunchroom at that table with the JPFC. Bill and I wrote songs and term papers for most anyone who dropped by, put bands together and plotted and planned - I would show the Plain Truth bass player new licks on the bass - some reason I packed my Rickenbacker 4001 everywhere then - and anyone else who needed to learn how to do something on bass. Bill was not a good guitar player then, but what he lacked in technique, he made up for in spirit and rubber lobsters. One thing about Bill - I loaned him my cherished Rick....and he SOLD it! Bill, if and when you drop by - help fill in the blanks for me.

Tuesday, December 17, 2002

So, like, there was this one night somewhere along the 80's where Roland Tester and myself thought that it might be a good thing to link up with this "Folk Band" that played at the Soup Kitchen Annex for a demo tape they were about to make. Ended up sounding like Kieth Moon and John Entwhistle backing Peter, Paul and Mary - Hey, they put that 10 on the volume control for a reason damnit! And anyone that has ever heard Roland play knows that the beat is in HIS yard and he puts it any where he damn well pleases!
But that's not the story - the story begins somewhere before the beginning. With us being invited to flesh out the very folkey "3 A.M." I believe it was Pat Taber (say hi to Chris Slaughter Pat) and her brother, whose name escapes me but he most likely was a Taber as well. There was Rick Phillips and Donna Leonard - Roland and I wanted Donna back then.
Sooooo being as that group was comprised of them "Artsy Mountain Folk" all their friends was "Artsy Mountian Folk" as well - Sooooo Donna has a wine and chesse party and wants us to meet their friends. Roland drank all the wine he could find and when that was no good - he went for the beer he had brought with him. Now throughout this little hoedown they were all taking turns, singing "Artsy Mountian Folk" songs and having a lovely time - I got handed a guitar and played a song of mine, "Bring me the head of Jerry Garcia" after which no one let me have a guitar again. Roland, God rest his soul, had been not only drinking, but eating cheese - lot's and lot's o' cheese. So after some convincing that we didn't really want to be there, we headed off on our way. But Roland is a LOT drunker and cheese laden than I thought. He does get home okay, but now faces that looooong walk from the car to his house as he throws up all the way - that boy was heaving like a champion! It all looks like some mob hit on Hickory Farms! But Rolands finds peace at last, but not in his house - it's in a big puddle of beer, wine and cheese out on the front lawn. And it rains during the night while Roland is left for dead on the front lawn until the sun comes up and his parents have to bring him in with the morning paper. And that is what begat the whole 80's music scene in JC - Roland sacrificed himself and sat the whole thing in motion. You heard it right here on the Booger.....oops, sorry, the Blogger

Monday, December 16, 2002

I forgot two bands:

1. Top Ramen and the Noodles (or soemthing silly like that) with Mike Hilliard and Tad (late-era Nightmares drummer).
2. A pre-Gumption band also called Gumption with Mike Hilliard and two other folks in Middle Tennessee. When Kurt and I moved to Chapel Hill to start a band we couldn't think of a good name. So, we ripped me off. The first Gumption was named after a mythical Tennessee city that my friend Mark created to symbolize all things redneck. The first Gumption was sort of a hillbilly group, so the name seemed appropriate. When Kurt and I took it on for our group, it didn't have any real meaning. We just thought it sounded good.

Band names are silly. :)

Bobby asked about my band history, so here goes:

Tall Tale (East Tennessee)
Buck Fifty and the Longnecks (East Tennessee)
proto-Floyd Eats Mayberry group with Kurt and Mike Hilliard (East Tennessee)
Brother Watchdog (Middle Tennessee)
Solid (Middle Tennessee)
LMNOP (Middle Tennessee)
Gumption (again with Kurt - this time in Chapel Hill)
Earl Wells and the Gushers (Chapel Hill)
The Cashmen (Atlanta)

And nothing for the past two years. Sob... soon I'll be rocking again. Durn master's degree.

Sunday, December 15, 2002

Thanks so much, everybody, for your great new stories. I owe everybody a doughnut- krispy kreme, of course.

Wow. Plez doing Like a Virgin brings to mind a strange story of seeing Plez at The Highlander. I rode over with Gary (as I did so often then) and the show was as always stellar. About 1:30 am, I turned to Gary and said, "I gotta get up and work in the morning, we'd better head out." Just then, Plez started playing Like a Virgin and Gary said, "Hey, one more song and we'll go." By the time the song was over, it was 2:20. Plez had Like a Virgined for nearly an hour. Sure he wandered around with it a bit and I'd guess that a good half of the songs he knew got mixed in with it but it was still nearly an hour of Like a Virgin. I think this has to be some sort of record. Just goes to show what a swashbuckler the ol' Plez was. You never knew where he would end up, but it sure would be fun getting there.

Hey Brook, thanks for the songs. I remember hering this stuff at some point in time but had mostly forgotten it. What I'd really like to accomplish though is to preserve even more of the music scene from that time. My problem is that most of my tapes are just junk at this time. Anybody want to come forward with tapes that they'd like digitized? Maybe someone has some good stuff by Plane Jane or Steady Eddie? I know someone has to have taken better care of their music collection than I did.

Barb, Brook, very funny road trip story. We’ve all pulled the ol’ sleep at a rest stop deal a time or two I guess. I was thinking about mine and Donna’s wedding day, back in '96. Donna’s parents said they wanted a real wedding and actually gave us a big budget to do a big deal wedding. We had this thought of hiring Scott Pleasant and the Pleztones for our wedding party. I used to work at Makatos and they were agreeable to letting us use their bar area.

We had a pretty good crowd there, but a lot of people from out of town. Many of my immediate gang was scattered; Eddie was in Arizona, and I didn’t even know exactly where Gary and Chuck were, somehow couldn’t get a hold of Kim… but we figured everyone would love it: a real rock ‘n roll band. A lot of people did love it, but some seemed to grumble something along the lines of “where’s the DJ,” and stuff like that. A lot of Donna’s family had come in from St. Louis. I remember standing among them in my tux, well on my way to feeling half crazed, pumping my fist in the air yelling “grunt like a pig, grunt like a pig…Oink! Oink!” with the band. Then I peered around at everyone and I swear, I think I even saw fear in their eyes they were looking so disturbed.

The band was real troopers too. I saw many sidelong glances they cast at each other. Looked like they struggled in several areas that night. But, we were the wedding people and we were happy with hearing Pleztones. They had the whole crowd with ‘em a couple of times. Scott Pleasant’s version of Like a Virgin was a hit. Most ridiculously, they did the damn hokey pokey and everyone jumped in for that.

Finally, towards the end, Donna and I staggered on stage and attempted to sing “Oliver.” This prompted some family members to give us cash gifts earlier than planned if we would agree not to try and sing another song. Anyway, thanks Scott, Drew and James for the great show. We’re still married and everything, so I’m glad we had a big deal party with the Pleztones.

While I’m rambling about weddings, I have to say that Barb and Drew’s wedding was the coolest, most wonderful wedding I have attended. Thanks for inviting us to that. By the way, I will be at both shows, so look forward to seeing everyone.

And speaking of things lynchian, does anybody remember the night Donnie tried to call...no, did call...? Yes, Dennis Hopper. I wasn't there, but I've heard about it, and now forgotten what I've heard.

Saturday, December 14, 2002

never dare a girl with a gas card! the very best thing about being young and stupid is spur-of-the-moment road trips.

that party was the only time i can remember ever buying a keg of beer and i think it might have my birthday or the end of school or both. i'm sure ann appreciated us leaving her there with a houseful of people, one of whom was josh morris' republican brother, who liked nothing better than engaging me in political fisticuffs. don't get me wrong, i'm sure josh's republican brother, whatever his name is, is/was a nice enough guy... but i remember thinking that at that moment, my happiness level would increase with the distance i could put between myself and him.

and i was right until we hit the possum. i was sure that was a baaaad sign. there was a pelt of grey fur on the towing ring on the front of the nissan for days it seems. it was stuck with a clear, crystalized substance. and i can attest to the fact that that was the world's largest possum. it was the size of a small, fat, furry child.

you forgot to mention we wound up in myrtle beach! during *bike week* what a freak show. we seemed so normal (swimming in our street clothes) in comparison. such great timing. we snuck into a campground to take showers -- might as well have been invisible amid the bikers.

do you remember martin luther king blvd in lumberton! the throngs of people all looking like they had walked off the set of Devil in a Blue Dress. the positively lynchian decay. granted, that might have been the drugs or the coffee or the angry spirt of the world's largest possum -- but something was cosmically askew in lumberton, NC. and for those guys to be watching Blue Velvet at that very moment, duuuude!

all in all, the most disturbing thing that whole weekend was johnny hicks hiding behind the door at the apartment when we finally got back sunday nite. i have never been so yanked on caffeine. he scared the shit out of me. i was confused. tripping on coffee. i thought i might punch him, but went to bed instead.

Wow, so many ‘new’ people! Groovy! Bobby Swanay!-- Alive and well -- Drew and I both have wondered many times “What’s going on in Bobby’s life?” Actually, we say that about most of the people on this blog- but Bobby’s name took me by surprise most recently! I hope I get to see everyone in just a few short weeks. The closest thing to a class reunion I’ll EVER be a part of!

Just in case it’s not been mentioned recently- The Pleztones are opening for the Nightmares- I think both nights. I was trying to remember if Kurt usually played with the Pleztones or just certain songs? Was it mainly Scott, Drew & James? I could ask Drew but it only comes to mind when he’s not around.

This is a story that came to mind the other day- and it has nothing to do with the music scene. It’s a story about being young: There was very large party going at our(me, Ann, Brook) apartment on Poplar Street. This must have been 1986? It was late & Brook and I had ingested way too much of everything. We were blabbing about how we were going to drive to Fla and see the ocean. Bruce said “Yeah right, there’s no way” So Brook and I got in her car and headed east. We drove in parts of NC, SC, and GA that night (and not in appropriate order) Early in the trip we hit the world’s biggest opossum- it must have weighed 80 lbs! At some point we decided not to go to Florida so we headed north. After some sleep at a rest area (and removing bits of opossum hide from the car grill) we woke to the sights and sounds of Bike Week. Peeking out the window to see what the racket was and seeing a happy couple on their coffin shaped 3 wheeled bike- we decided to head MORE north. We ended up in Lumberton, NC and decided it had to be the anus of the earth. We called Mike & Lynne’s to let people know we were alive and everyone was over at their house watching Blue Velvet, which takes place in Lumberton. Everybody agreed that it did seem like it could be the anus of the earth and with that Brook and I figured that our mission was complete and we headed home. We swam in the ocean at some point and ate at a Pizza Hut (?) I think that was the only time I’ve ever been in a Pizza Hut w/ Brook. That’s all.

I just want to toss out a thanks to Brian. No matter what band I was trying to form, I kept Relleva on the guest list. When he was in town, he always came to our show, refused to be let in for free, and supported us. Thanks, again, Brian.

Friday, December 13, 2002

You guys were a fun band. I sure got a major kick out of my high school buddies hitting the bar music scene in Johnson City. Ya know, I think it was Linda Barnette who drug me to the Down Home to see the Nightmares for the first time. Thanks Linda; someone tell her to jump on here and post something. Last year I came across an unlabeled tape and lo and behold, it was a grainy recording of a Tall Tale show. I think Eddie has a much better sounding tape. Hey Gary, before you go on in detail, what is the quick run through of your band history? Tall Tale, Buck Fifty, Floyd Eats Mayberry (or some variance of), Gumption, and then...?

By the way, although I have no recordings of Tall Tale (who only went into a studio once), I do have three copies of Buck Fifty and the Longnecks' "From Memphis to Mars" that still have the Back Door price tag on 'em. :)

Stories, stories. Let's see... where do I begin?

I think I'll begin in the fall of 1986. There was a benefit show for the humane society, and Linda Barnett convinced several of our circle of friends (Elizabethton High folks, who stood out like sore thumbs in our thrasher magazine t-shirts and trenchcoats among the skoal-dipping populace of that school) to go see it. Linda, you see, was already more wise to the ways of local rock than most of us. So, off we go. It was very cold that night, and I remember sitting both on and in a cardboard box trying to stay warm while the bands played.

I don't remember what other bands played that night. But, I know the Nightmares were headlining, and that was something of a revelation. There it was... good music that I could touch. I could see those guys walking down the street. I could see those guys pumping gas into their cars. Very tangible. Prior to this my only exposure to live music had been heavy metal concerts at Freedom Hall and Eddie Rabbit concerts at the state fair.

My friends Eddie Webb and Chuck Phaneuf played guitar and drums, respectively. I'd been wanting a drum set for a while, but mom wasn't having it. Eddie and Chuck set out to convince me that it was really a bass guitar that I needed to get that xmas, instead of drums. This way, they reasoned, we could start a bad immediately. And they were right. I got a bass that year, and Eddie showed me how to tune it. Only a day or two thereafter we started playing together.

Kim, who was Chuck's girlfriend at the time, was hanging around our little garage jams and became the vocalist. I won't say "singer," since Kim, who I love dearly, never really sang much of anything. Shouted, sure. Delivered, fine. Sang, maybe not. But, there was something precious about four loopy high school kids doing poory executed black flag covers with a cute female singer, I suppose, because after one night at Down Home's ubiquitous Open Hoot, we landed our first "real gig" opening for the Nightmares at the Casbah (Club Venus at the time). This was about three months after I got that bass for xmas.

I'm not sure many of the Nightmares fans from ETSU were really digging us. But, it seemed like some of the more alternatively minded folks were at least amused, if not entertained. So, we played around for a while. Eventually we tried to replace Kim with Liz, and then I slid over and spent more time with Buck Fifty and the Longnecks.

But, I'll save the Buck Fifty stories for some other time and sign off for now.


Okay, here's some mp3s from the very first Nightmares recording in 1985 at Robert Blevins' studio. I promised Andy boy, but I couldn't find my AB CD.

This session is ground zero Brian and the Howling Tomcats stuff with Donnie Poole on drums, and very few original songs. I love "Money." It's still one of my all-time favorite covers. You should find Money, Pipeline and Jonesborough Woman. I found this CD in a stack of software and I'm probably going to get in trouble for posting these cuts, so go get while you can... :)

Brad Lifford article on the Nightmares reunion:


2 weeks!

...and BOOM, the button works! Yay Gary! Welcome to the tent!

Hey all. Gary Mille rhere. Hmmm... I wrote a message yesterday, but it's not appearing. Maybe I don't know how to use this blogger thing... I've got stories to share durn it... now how can I make it work.

Let me try pressing this button...

Thursday, December 12, 2002

:)... i've been in nashville too long.

i have this conversation quite a bit about what is the right way to share and use music., especially of people you know. not that i think anyone from the JC scene would haul you into court over an mp3  -- nor will you burn in hell for trading songs with folks. just wouldn't want to piss anyone off.

robert blevins made us an anthology of plez material. he gave it to us years ago. it's almost always in the car. i've listened to it as much as anything else (liz phair, minutemen). great car music. but i have always felt a little guilty for having it since it didn't come from scott. scott, i owe you ten bucks. get it from robert. :)

if anyone wants any old andy boy songs i can post some mp3s on my ftp thingy.

Wednesday, December 11, 2002

The main reson I'm doing it is to save some memories and preserve the great music. My big problem is that almost all of my tapes from then are degraded to the point that they're nearly worthless. I was hoping that as a community we could find the best recordings among us to preserve. I'm certainly not looking to make any money from this and I have no intentions of infringing on the artistry of the music. Frankly, I never really saw any troubles with the artists because the bands we're talking about are for the most part defunct. Morally, I certainly don't feel like it's stealing or anythings since we all supported these bands by buying their tapes and going to their shows and even in some instances being their friends.

david -- we've been digitizing old nightmares and andyboy stuff for exactly the same reason. my thought is that there is no reason not to, especially since the tape is going to oxidize and you'll lose the stuff forever if you don't preserve it now.

it's important, if you want to share mp3s of stuff you didn't write, to let the artist know you want to do something like this. as long as you aren't selling the material, it isn't illegal -- and as long as you have permission, it isn't immoral.

btw -- a nightmares anthology is rumored to be in the works that will contain the best of the best studio recordings (released and unreleased).

I'd certainly try it, David. This is from the standpoint of a non-technician musically speaking. There's value in those things beyond sound quality, as an aid to memory for instance. And it's a point well taken that they'll degrade further over time. My thought is sort of, it's a question not of why do it but why not.

Along the lines of preserving pieces of that era, I've been piddling around with moving some of the old music onto more durable (digital) media. It's not really a perfect system and the results are only as good as the old trashed demo tapes and stuff that I've got. The point is that once I've managed to get them on a CD, the sound quality won't degrade any. What I'd like to know, does anyone have any decent recordings from that time period that they think would be worth preserving this way?. Most of my tapes are not only old, they've had pretty rough lives as well so aren't really good candidates for this. Does anyone have any opinion as to whether this is a good idea or just hopeless?

found a picture of kurt...

Tuesday, December 10, 2002

These are the kinds of stories I edit at work. Needless to say, my job is amusing, and all too easy or I wouldn't be writing here all the time ----

By the time veterinarians were notified, there was little they could do to save a local cow from starving to death.

Okay Rick - now you're just plain freaking me out man!


This is so cool, we have gone from stories about the formation of Stinky finger to stories about naked coeds, handcuffs and plaster penis casting!!! Woohoo!! Now this is what the Blog is about!!!!

First of all I would like to say that I find a woman who can say "cock" with a straight face irresistable,
Julie, you have the most wonderful taste in art - thank you, and hey - you're cute too!

In defense of myself, I hafta say that I'm really not as serious as I come across here. Well, I am serious, but I also know how to laugh and take a joke, and I sure as hell didn't spend all my time in Chicago reading my bible. I saw a LOT of great music, art, and plays, and there was a cool music scene I was also a part of there. Got to see U2 at a teeney place called the Aragon Ballroom on their War tour. Held onto both of Bono's feet (this is the truth) while he sang "40". Also saw the Replacements in their heyday. paul westerberg threw a pitcher of beer in my face. Also saw Bruce Coburn at the Vic (he’s a favorite of mine), Elvis Costello, others. Had dinner with Big Dipper, a small band in the city, before they played once. And a good friend of mine, Tammy, was serious friends with Cynthia Plastercaster, who casted the cocks of many a famous rock star. Tammy and I went to college together, and at one point she and her boyfriend were found handcuffed, naked, and attached to a refrigerator in the billy graham center. And they didn’t banish her. had she been handcuffed with another woman, though, they probably would’ve.And David your art is absolutely gorgeous, and intense.

Thanks Satan Claws!

No where near offended. Dave Your pics are awsome.

Monday, December 09, 2002

"A Different Sin"
THIS is what I do...

Al Hobbs, 1982 when he and Mike Mull had the seminal band "Plain Truth."
By the way, that's MY guitar he's got there - my old Melody Maker

Of course Julie - with some fava beans and a bottle of nice chianti......

Hey Brook, I had heard a similar story about Burt but always figured it sounded too much like something someone made up to be anything but true. Speaking of Burt, how many times did we hear him sing "Johnny B. Goot"?

Marty Hyder made a flyer for some show that had a drawing of Burt's head wearing a chef's hat with "Johnny B. Goot" on it. Burt asked him what it meant. We all had a good laugh over that one.

You can give me a lobotomy, and then let me watch you eat that half of my brain.

Julie, Julie, Julie - I don't know what to do with you

David: sorry. really. it's actually words to a song by the floating men, a band. I don't know what they mean at all. they're very cryptic which makes them not poisonous to me. guess you understand them better than i do. i was just asking my friend who typed them (he said he wanted to make a contribution), Tom, what they mean, and he doesn't know either. i think they're about feeling o.k. with yourself no matter what's going on around you. but i could be wrong, and if they offended you, then i'm definitely wrong.
and rick milhorn: sorry if my comment about the pic offended. have never met you either. it was actually a cute picture and the beard is very sean connery-esque.

Brian! Good to hear form you. If I were in the TriCities again you think I wouldn't have looked you up by now? I'd have my own band again. Living in Bell (oh GOD!) Buckle now, and doing that voodoo I do so well - Got tired of being Master of the Funkwrench in Nashville so I do my thing here in this little 'burg. I'm doing my art thing and by the way, I did a painting of Rebecca from one of the old pics I did of her - Slammin! Wanna see? No one else look - SkinThief@peoplepc.com. Write me! Or join our MSN sessions this evening with Rick, Bill, James and anyone brave enough to ask in!
To Brooke;
Of course we have a water-like substance here, but it moves a bit more slowly in winter. And of burning something; yeah we could build something, but why do that when we've got whole square of shops selling cheesy and contrived folk-art crap that will go like a tenderbox!
And to Julie Fann; I like it but here's something -
I found this magic trick in the pages of a very old book (this will just kill you)
it says; that by putting words together in certain secret ways,
you can poison people

All together now - Everybody BrainStorm!

î'm having a breakthrough day
i'm thinking up cool things to say
Like, does it matter that my former is her latter
coming at her or going away?

johnson city stories

oh, speaking of Burt -- any truth to the story that Burt isn't his real name? I just heard that it is a nick name from when he participated in a Burt Reynolds look-alike contest.

I find this very disturbing.

Hey David-- long time. How have you been? Remember University Apartments. What a hole. Still doing photography-- besides a bass-man, I remember you were an excellent photographer. Are you in the tri-cities? or did the blog find you in a farawayplace

Yo James, still playing guitar? I remember Gretchen and Nina. I tried to track down Gretchen once when the band was in Memphis-- but no luck. Heard Nina was married living in a commune/farm in New Hampshire or Vermont. Too cold for regular humans.

Suffragette city. i like the change from A to F in the verse. besides, it wasn't written by moly hachit, allman bros, blackfoot, fogshat, lenrd skinturd, outflaws, chas danyells, mrshall fucker band, 38 not-so-special, zz flop, or jerknee. i started going to cowboys (and the many incarnations before) in 1980 cause it was the only place in the tricidies to hear a live rock band. Unfortunately I had to endure the same covers of the same tired-ass bands --- it was like every band had the same goddamn set list. gimme 3 steps? gimme a fucking pistol so I can blow my brains out. But...i would go every weekend, cause the overwhelming need for my body to hear loud distorted guitars was stronger than the nausea brought about by the brain-crippling material (also, free beer from 9 to 10). the scene did not develop because the nightmares or any other lame local band caused a stir, it was because around the same time, quarterbacks, the down home and the pub opened it's doors to wanna-be rocker's like myself. we could finally get out of the damn house and torture paying customers instead of just our neighbors. Long live Burt!

oh yeah, the hindu rib roast. will there be ribs? is there water in bell buckle? i'm not doing any goofy hippie shit, so can we build something and then set it on fire? maybe an effigy or a big papier mache can of Bruce -- Burning Spam.

In the same spirit that Bill proposed "Another Hindu Rib Roast," I offer Bell Buckle as the future home of my annual Halloween event; "Paganpalooza." I've got to do something for/with all those crippled Celtic dancers........

wish i had a pic of kurt -- but here's some photos we took recently for the paper. as you can see, the guys are looking a little different from the 80s.

Cute boobs, but kinda lumpy. Also, you'd look much better coming out of a cake, and with garters. Looks like Einstein in drag....always wondered what he'd be like in bed. That's Einstein, not you, no offense.

Sunday, December 08, 2002


For those of you that came to the scene after 1983 you may be asking, "Who is David Willis?" Let me break it down for you thusly; Dave Willis is a special kind of cat, Warrior, Poet, Philosopher; but most of all, Prince of all who would dare to play the orgasmic bass. Founder of the Elizabethton School of Funk, a gentle lad who would stop his car to let a butterfly pass, but would rip your kneecaps out with a stone hammer if you cross him; just ask the last troop of Celtic dancers to visit Bell Buckle..

Rick, I've never been gay before, but if by some circumstance of fate we ever end up in the same prison together - I'd be honered to make you my Bitch.

That's the spirit!

A mighty "decorous" young man in his own right.

Rest assured, Bobby, someday this will all get straightened out and put together. My biggest concern right now is getting every scrap of material we can lay hands on. I'm particularly interested in visual material, if you have some surviving. Brook and I are talking about having a gathering over coffee sometime around the reunion shows and bringing a scanner and trying to digitize anything anybody's got, old flyers, t-shirts, etc. There is no date and time set yet, but EVERYONE, please, be thinking if you have souvenirs you want to share, and we'll get back to you on particulars.

I, too, have some fond memories of Trent, Steve Lee, Louie and James Woody flouncing around our apartment at Melubro wearing glamorous frocks they'd borrowed from Brook and Barb and myself. Those were some mighty decorous young men. I always wanted to add you and Gary to the mix, but the Elizabethton straight-edge brotherhood were hard lot to corrupt with our boozin', hallucinatin' ways. Timing is everything.

“Today the world faces a single man armed with weapons of mass destruction, manifesting an aggressive, bullying attitude, who may well plunge the world into chaos and bloodshed if he miscalculates. This per son, belligerent, arrogant and sure of himself, truly is the most dangerous person on Earth"

Scott im sorry, its been years since I saw you guys

Dave, we are still waiting for the "Roland the Hun" story!!!

Did anyone else know you could post photos here?

Rick, thanks for your interest, but you probably oughta ask her current husband. Last time I saw her, um, well, better not get into it.

Saturday, December 07, 2002

Hello to all,

I don’t expect many would know me from this crowd. I’m just a two time loser in an arm pit of a town, but I was there in the Johnson City heydays, had a grand time. I was part of a croud from Elizabethton. I was still in high school the first time I saw the Nightmares, sometime in ’87. I was pretty big into skateboarding with my buddies, and we were mightily impressed with the music scene as we discovered it then. Many of my immediate crowd went on to actively participate in that scene; Eddie Webb, Charlton (Chuck) Phaneuf (who is still at it around VA beach, his stuff is on mp3.com), Kim McLeod, Linda Barnett, Gary Miller, David Guffey. I remember when we graduated high school in ’88 we took off to the beach, and more importantly to the skatepark in Jacksonville; it was a steady stream of the Nightmares and Scott Pleasant the whole way there in the van. I think exposure to these fine musicians at our tender young ages burned a permanent idea and expectation about what rock music is, and what constitutes good stuff.

We went on to discover college, drugs and ultimately our lot in life, but to me, the music has endured. Many a good time was had by all, and the Nightmares brought some rockin' new years in for us for a while. I don’t play an instrument, but I tried to get creatively involved in ways that I could; I painted and drew pictures and stuff. Barbara, I miss you by the way, I hope you’re still painting. I remember your “meat” series there towards the end of college. Eddie, Gary, Chuck and Kim (later replaced by Liz) formed Tall Tale, just to get a piece of the action. Chuck and Gary would have ridiculous arguments about their lyrics: Chuck arguing to write with deep meaning, Gary saying fuck that, just write something down and move on. Chuck drank some mysterious brown liquor one night while Eddie pierced his nipple with a safety pin. Chuck wanted his chest to look cool when he took his shirt off when drumming at shows. But alas, one day while skating at a half pipe he fell and the safety pin hooked on a nail on the way down, and rip! I saw him last year and that damn nipple is still swollen.

Anyway, I like the idea of this forum forming the basis of a composite whole. I hope someone actually does sort this stuff out eventually. Another impression I have is a bunch of long haired guys hanging out in dresses, on a regular basis. Best I can remember, a guy named Trent would hang around in a dress just hoping some frat boys would have a smart ass comment just so he could beat ‘em up.

Finally, just in case no one’s ran across this on the net, I’ll part ways with this lovely thought:

“Today the world faces a single man armed with weapons of mass destruction, manifesting an aggressive, bullying attitude, who may well plunge the world into chaos and bloodshed if he miscalculates. This per son, belligerent, arrogant and sure of himself, truly is the most dangerous person on Earth. The problem is that his name is George W. Bush, and he is our president.” This quote is from Jack M. Balkin, Knight Professor of Constitutional Law and the First Amendment at Yale Law School, September 22, 2002.

What lobster, where.?

Okay - an open Blog to James - I believe that my logic was a tad askew when I flew off the handle and was so unreasonably irrate with what you posted to me yesterday. I let you have it with both barrels and that was bad form on my part. So what else can I do except to offer a public apology to you (but I can't forgive this picture of Rick with the lobster on his face!) so there, I've humbled myself in public - now please come home and you can rub my feet - all is forgiven.

Scott Im glad to see you're still around. Hows Debbie?

Does anybody out there believe that Don Lapre really made fifty grand a week by placing tiny classified ads in newspapers all over the country? Just curious, 'cause you know, if he did, then maybe we should all try that. A year or so at 50 thou a week, and you could retire on a mountaintop or tropical island somewhere and do nothing but sip mixed drinks with little umbrellas in 'em for the rest of your life. Man, that sounds great, don't it?

So, please, somebody, lemme know if Lapre's onto something with this classified ad deal. I'm tired of working for the man.

Please don't feel censored Julie. Say whatever you want, whenever you want.

On a lighter note, shouldn't we start planning another Hindu Rib Roast for next spring? We could even call it "Another Hindu Rib Roast" and keeping with tradition have it outdoors near a body of water large enough to drown in, and include lots and lots of beer. Maybe some loud music, and some party hats, and dancers in grass skits!!!

Who is up for it?

I can hang with the idea of creating a work of art here as long as my voice isn't censored or completely ignored and if some who've been invited to participate don't mind hearing stuff that's not necessarily funny or happy, or is related to J.C. sometimes in only a tangential way. My purpose for participating on this thing is to have my voice heard because, back then, I didn't have a stage nor an audience paying me to sing my songs or rant my rants. Seems like, back then, I paid big money to people who didn’t even know me, and then only to come away having not been seen or heard, and with a broken heart. And that’s the embarrassing truth. (I know - world’s smallest violin, etc.) Still, I made my choices.

A memory that’s been on my brain the past few days is of dancing like a demon at Nightmare’s shows to “Paint it Black” with my friend Brian Denning, a.k.a. Beaner. He was a Milligan student, and gay, and had a terrible time coming to terms with that. He was sometimes suicidal since he was madly in love with another friend of ours, Randy Small, who was dating (and is now married to) Sarah Cummins. He and I were birds of a feather, I guess, since we were always melancholy and feeling morose about something. At Nightmare’s shows, I felt more free to feel feelings and express them than I ever did in church or at home, and that bothered me at the time. I was searching for a new set of spiritual tools, so dancing to “Paint it Black” was serious therapy. I was attending a Christian college near Chicago at the time (save for my one semester at Milligan) and had a friend in Chicago who also was gay, Stephen. He was manic as hell, and during those Nightmare’s days, he killed himself because he couldn’t stand the stigma. Before he did it, he would come to my room at three a.m. going on about how he had come face to face with evil watching the film “Fatal Attraction”, or how he’d seen God face to face. He said he was going to get some Jesuit priests in the city to pray for him so he wouldn’t be gay anymore. I was always trying to comfort him. Disturbing shit. A couple of weeks after that (and I’d mentioned to a professor that I was worried about him), he knelt in a position of prayer in front of an oncoming Chicago commuter train. I was able to recover an earring of his on the railroad tracks and a necklace. Just seemed like life was always a harsh wake up call to me then that the faith in Christ I’d found so comforting while growing up was a source of terrible pain for many people. And so it became a source of pain for me too. Sometime after that (must’ve been in the summer), I remember a battle of the bands that the Nightmare’s participated in --I think it was at Viking Hall, and, afterward, there was a party at Elizabeth Cloyd’s parent’s house---huge house. We all sat around a bonfire, and I remember Drew having this stellar memory of old songs, one-hit wonders. At some point, someone, for laughs, started singing the corny Christian campfire tune, “It only takes a spark to get a fire going,”----and I remember thinking how could I hate and also love a stupid song like that, and if ever it had any meaning for me, it was at that moment, sitting with people who seemed to understand some part of me that I was still trying to find.
And on a positive note, the friend, Brian, is doing fine now, is very happy living with his boyfriend, Paul, in Fort Worth, Texas, of all places

Now that's what this blog needed, a good projectile vomiting story! And to think that Frank married that young woman and now lives with her and their seven kids in a camper outside of Telford; what a romantic tale it is.

Hey James! Thanks for reminding me of the lost row boat expedition. We had some damn good times at that (barely) floating dock. However, your memory has inflated things a little. It wasn't exactly two miles out, it was more like two hundred yards. This is natural, though, as we often exaggerate the few experiences we recall to fill the void of experiences forgotten. And the reason I was out there was because all your ex-girlfriends were obsessing over you, Scott and a couple of bottles of liquor tooling around the pitch dark lake in a row-boat. I arrived just as you guys were aborting an attempt to crash a green-neck (red-neck with money) party. I definitely recall the words "rifle", "shoot", and "ass" coming from the crowd. You guys were drunker'n'fuck (there, I got mine in) and were armed with only smart-ass retorts. But we were able to get the boat rowing in a straight line and managed our escape. And people used to say I was crazy.

Note to future generations reading this 'artifact' - I was just kidding about Frank living in a camper with his wife and their seven kids. Two of them aren't his.

Friday, December 06, 2002

What the fuck? I go to work this morning laughing my ass off at Dave's story, and come back to a plethora of posts explaining everyones position on it....and apparently everyone liked it. So, will someone please top it, if that is possible, so we can move on???

Perhaps a Stinky story about the juxtaposition of thier music in some redneck town in Va.? Chris Slaughter, Where are you when we need you most??

Just for the record, you have to do more than say my name 3 times to get Billjuice!!

Well, this is just the first attempt at gathering material to eventually turn into some sort of artefact to offer the world as to who we were and why we counted, even if we never got the world a yard up our butts the way Warhol's gang did. The older I get, the less I care for the idea of us all slipping away into that good night of oblivion. If we can agree on this much, then I think we've got a snowball's chance. This is by no means intended to be the final product, and I'd appreciate the thoughts of other bloggers on better concepts and better ways to pull them off. In my most pretentious moments I imagine this being a great work of participatory art, or at least a work. Maybe I just miss everybody too much for my own good.

"Uncalled for" was not meant, in my mind, as a judgmental statement directed at anyone, especially Willis. Sorry that Willis or anyone else took it that way. I thought the story was, as I said, extremely funny and interesting. "Uncalled for" was an expression of how I tend to view certain topics ---not as a judgment on how anyone else does. Obviously I had a question as to what is “permissible” here---since I told a "different" story a week or so ago that had nothing to do with johnson city, or anyone I knew in 1985, or anyone I know now----the bin Laden doll story. Got no response from it. Which raised in my mind a question about blogging rules, about the boundaries, limitations, of this particular blog. My question, statement, wasn't a judgment on anyone; instead, it was an inquiry about the definition of blogging, since this is a community of sorts.

As far as my comment about the playing of Suffragette City being a “divine accident”----it was a divine accident to me because it spoke to me at a time when I needed to hear something about female/personal power and didn’t even know I needed to hear it. There are other personal reasons behind the meaning of it to me too that I won’t broach. It wasn’t at all to say that there was no mind behind the playing of it, or no forethought, or no attachement on the part of the players to its meaning.

Okay - stick a fork in me 'cause I'm done - thanks James

Dave, quit postin'. you're makin' the rest of us look bad

Elizabeth, if I may be so familiar as to call you by your first name, you needn't worry about losing your mystery woman status. As I observe the many blogs concerned with your true identity, it seems to me that you've gone beyond mystery woman and doppelganger, and have now passed into the realms of Urban Legend, Mythic Creature and Folk Legend. I salute you. Even if you are a figment of Bills imagination or Spam Ramsley. Now Bill is another Urban Legend, but more of the Beetlejuice varity - says his name 3 times and BAM - suddenly you got "Billjuice."
I took your compliment in the spirit in which it was intended - I'm actually thrilled that you did as you don't pass them out that freely.
I'm not here to raise anyones hackles - well - okay, maybe I will from time to time, but not out of mean spiritedness, that's not my style. Only to provoke talk.
While the Edie Sedgewick notion is a noble one, I don't think it can be pulled off in a forum such as this - but I hope I'm wrong as those involved seem so committed to the ideal. I'm NOT putting anyone down by that - just expressing genuine concern for the concept. But faith and committment go a long way. I'm just one little guy who stumbled through when "Brian" was just Brian and Marcel was just another punk on guitar called Frank, and the foundation was being laid that everything after might happen as it did.
Before there was Edie, there was all that came before that she might become who she became. And for the love or God, who ever he or she may be, just please stop calling me Mr. Willis - I'm David.

And now my final words on "Suffragette City:" First, no one seems to have picked up on the JUXTAPOSITION part of the equation, just being in Cowboys with some confused Skoal-dipping, Nascar-watching, wife-pounding good ol' boys listening to it. That was real live fun. Second, I would never assert that my tastes are musically cooler than anyone else's. To me, that's just bad manners (hint, hint.) It was about a PERSONAL totem. Like this: suppose as a child you just loved to go to Coney Island. Then one day many years later, as you were moving into your little grey cubicle somewhere in corporate America, you found a Coney Island token. Now, you might not give a shit about going to Coney Island anymore, but wouldn't it seem like a message to you that maybe some kind of new fun was waiting for you, something you might have missed had you not been alerted to the fact that it was even possible? That's the significance of the Nightmares covering "Suffragette City" for me.

Oh, and James: At the first reinstated Art Students' League Costume Ball, Marybeth and I went as a bride and groom. I was the bride. As for me being the butt of the story, the point was-- in my position, it would've been better to be kindly to all others who were way far out on a limb, and not waste time looking for people who were different only like I was different, because that's nobody, anyway. Right? Bill: If you wound up with a philosophy degree, you will have seen my long shadow at least. I got the Fac award in '88. What this proves is that your professors seemed to believe I exist. Sigh. I am missing the mantle of "mystery woman" already.

P.S. I am still Spam Ramsley.

Vapidity is in the eye of the beholder. Offense also. For the record, my reading of the "uncalled for" comment also bestows a compliment on your story, Mr. Willis. The concept behind "Johnson City Stories" (a work-in-progress title) if I may presume to speak for Ms. Hines as well as myself, was to provide something like a continous open mike to record as many stories as possible from the JC/Nightmares/Stinky et al "scene" before any more damage occurs to the brains involved. (All things considered, I'm using the term "brain" loosely.) The project was conceived with an eye towards someday producing an oral-history-style book, a la George Plimpton's biography of Edie Sedgewick. In this way, we would just be editors; the real "authors" would be the others who lived it with us. If this seems too vapid for you, well...Appy-olly-loggies. If not, blog away! Julie's post raises the question, can we not reconstruct the past while fomenting resistance to the Bush ogre in the present? Well, can we not?

[12/6/2002 10:31:50 AM | David J. Willis]
You know, I'm not here pretending to be something that I am not. I was there when this "Scene" was in it's infancy. I enjoy seeing who we were then, and how far we have come from when we were all callow youths. Some of us were just plain punks, and some were just plain psuedointellectuals, and others were just plain. I tell a story for entertainment value, and while it may not be palettetable ( no pun intended) to some, others IM me laughing their guts out (again, no pun intended) for reminding them of one of the classic stories of the time and jogging their collective beer soaked memories. And while many stories here are just vapid collections of recollections about compulsive theivery, mankin fetishism, and people having epiphanies over David Bowie songs covered by the Nightmares. And I can even include MY little story amongst them - it's not meant to be anything other than what it is - just a story - not that there's anything wrong with that. It is my mistake that I posted such an offensive tale to a place called "JOHNSON CITY STORIES." Elizabeth, thank you very much for your comment. And while we don't know anything about one another, I enjoy your eloquent writing style and would like to know you - and that you may have some idea as to who I am - I'm just an artist (I AM aren't I James?). Ask and I'll show you something. James, sorry about that - the sun was in my eyes And that I don't misunderstand the concept of Johnson City Stories - would someone please define the basic idea behind this? Lord knows I don't want to be completely uncalled for. It's well known that we artsy folk try to stay away from controversy or provoke thought.

You know, I'm not here pretending to be something that I am not. I was there when this "Scene" was in it's infancy. I enjoy seeing who we were then, and how far we have come from when we were all callow youths. Some of us were just plain punks, and some were just plain psuedointellectuals, and others were just plain.
I tell a story for entertainment value, and while it may not be palettetable ( no pun intended) to some, others IM me laughing their guts out (again, no pun intended) for reminding them of one of the classic stories of the time and jogging their collective beer soaked memories. And while many stories here are just vapid collections of recollections about compulsive theivery, mankin fetishism, and people having epiphanies over David Bowie songs covered by the Nightmares. And I can even include MY little story amongst them - it's not meant to be anything other than what it is - just a story - not that there's anything wrong with that. It is my mistake that I posted such an offensive tale to a place called "JOHNSON CITY STORIES."
Elizabeth, thank you very much for your comment. And while we don't know anything about one another, I enjoy your eloquent writing style and would like to know you - and that you may have some idea as to who I am - I'm just an artist (I AM aren't I James?). Ask and I'll show you something.
James, sorry about that - the sun was in my eyes
And that I don't misunderstand the concept of Johnson City Stories - would someone please define the basic idea behind this? Lord knows I don't want to be completely uncalled for. It's well known that we artsy folk try to stay away from controversy or provoke thought.

Thursday, December 05, 2002

To be completely and totally honest, I'm trying to piece together what all happened back then. I know it may come as a surprise to all of those who knew me back then, But I did a lot of drugs and drank entirely too much.

To elizabeth.....I still can't figger who you are, but keep dropping clues like mary beth and I'll get there. However, gotta agree with Dave on the bowie gig....If the mares played, say, Dynamo Hum, I might have had a mini epiphany. Zappa Is God. (actually, Dan van Vliet is God, Zappa is an Elohim).

If you worked with Tony Black with the ASL to fuck over the SGA, you can't be all that bad in my book. No matter how you may feel about me. Maybe if you let me know how you were the butt of that story, I could clear out my karma.

Damnit Dave, I thought I wasn't Jenny From the Block....lol

War is strength. Slavery is peace. Ignorance is freedom.

Being immersed daily in the news business, these comments on politics so give me hope---that someone out there sees (though I know Brook is not at all the only one who does). And this statement I will add because I personally believe it applies to Bush, Kissinger, Laura and her damned dress, me, you the blog, my family, everyone in the universe----------that it is much more comforting to remain obligated (a slave) to preserving the past; to continually re-visit who we once were (not that there's always something wrong with that); to cling to one mode of story-telling, than it is to re-define ourselves--to say something new, do something new, be something new. I guess what I'm saying is----this blog thing---can it be a place to reminisce AND a place to morph, shapeshift, change? And that Frankie Spangler story, in my opinion, was completely uncalled for---in the most glorious, comical way.

buildings collapse in slow motion. and trains collide. everything is fine.

You go girl!

I said I wouldn't do this again, but...

We sit on the brink of war. Bush appoints a war criminal with financial interest in the Unocal oil pipeline in Afghanistan, to investigate 911. Yet another war criminal is given free reign over our personal information. Smirking, the chimp rescinds a provision allowing states to provide unemployment benefits to people taking unpaid leave to have a child, and reinstates a provision to hand out big cash bonuses to political appointees.

and THIS is CNN Headline News....
1) Graham Jackson, a heart specialist at St. Thomas's Hospital in London, found couples in long-term relationships were far less likely to have heart attacks while having sex than those having affairs or one-night stands.

2) First lady Laura Bush asked Americans to "remember other people during this Christmas" as she unveiled a White House dressed up in an elegant red-and-gold decor made whimsical by papier mache recreations of the pets of presidents past.

War is peace. Slavery is freedom. Ignorance is strength.

If "Elizabeth", you were in Wiley Kim's class, then you know he focused on metaphysics, and this would only add to my theory that you don't exist....in fact after a 3 hour block of Wiley, YOU would beleive you don't exist. As to taking the F, heck I ended up with a degree in the shit, and actually came to enjoy Wiley Kim's classes and came to respect his reasoning ability. In fact, he led me to believe that everyone is in my imagination..... so you may be right about everyone being my french crayons!

As to your assertion you may be Spam Ramsey, I know Spam, and if he ever got in touch with his feminine side, he would not get out of bed for a week.

Finally Dave, you are an inspiration to us all. We salute your literary abilities, and await your next report with baited breath!!! Especially Roland, I'm sure....

Well done, Mr. Willis, whoever you are!

Don't know that it'll PROVE anything, but for those of you having an identity crisis over me, here's my best shot. Bill: I was in a philosophy class with you. I can't remember what class it was, maybe Modern with Wiley Kim Rogers, but anyway about halfway through the semester you stopping showing up, so I guess you either withdrew or took the F. James Arwood: I knew you mostly through Marybeth Tober. Around '86 or '87, I did some work with Tony Black to revitalize the Art Students' League and get SGA funding for a film series, which never happened. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings with that story about your mohawk; given the level of attentiveness of much of the reading of the blog these days, perhaps I need to point out that I was the butt of that story, not you. And Tony Coker, I vaguely recall having a beer at Gatsby's with you and Mr. and Mrs. Spangler around the spring of 2000. I believe the topic was the untimely passage of Chip Justice. The rest of you, to the best of my knowledge, I have never met, but I won't jump to any conclusions that you are "les noms de crayon" for, let's say, Bill Edwards.

P.S. I could also be Spam Ramsley, just getting in touch with his "feminine" side.

Okay, first of all, I'm NOT Jenny from around the block
I don't know who the fuck Elizabeth Williams is, but would like to
and lastly a shout out to my mate from the "Sudden Death Rhythm Section," the ONLY guy I know this side of Ozzie Osbourne who WILL drink pot hole water or gnaw a hole in a table at the old Italian Village, Roland Testes!

Okey dokey - Flankie (as Frau Spangler called him) and I used to hang together back in the day at Poor Dicks, Italian Village, QB,s and all the places that allowed Folks Like Us to go hang. We developed a nasty habit of seeking out women who might be so inclined as to look at life differently for a few hours and fuck both Flankie and myself - amazing how many cooperative souls who sought out strange, new adventures we encountered. So one night we meet this nice young lady - a nursing student from New Jersey ( oh yeah! what exit?) who had already ingested 2 -3 pitchers of beer. Being the callow youths we were, persuaded her to join us on a new adventure and thus, we took her back to Bills House O' Thrills. Against my council, Flankie thought a little more beer would be good for the situation and gave her massive amounts. She flipped a coin to see who would be with her first, and I won, but Flankie insisted on another flip as she was rather a toothsome young thing. But the gods of fate and kinky sex punished Flankie because he REALLY wanted to go with her first and kept flipping coin until he won. Flankie led the young lady back to the bedroom while I waited for a good time to join (NO, not a gay thing - not that there's anything WRONG with that). A few minutes go by and suddenly there was this awful crashing and thrashing sound around from the bedroom ( I'm thinking he's killed her!) and a door get's torn from it's hinges as Flankie screams his way across the hall to the bathroom. "This is not a good thing" I'm thinking. Finally Flankie comes out with a large towel around his waist, and he is DRENCHED in schmuzt from chin to toe! Clive Barker could not have written a more terrifying scene. It seems that our man Flankie was in the middle of getting head from this poor wretched girl when ALLLLLLL that beer began to work. She began the enthusiastic part of her performance and UP came the massive amounts of beer! She covered poor Flankie, the bed, the floor, and the walls! It was like an esophogial Jackson Pollack in there! Nothing was spared! Oh the humanity! The humanity! He just stood there, horrified as I, dripping in warm recycled beer and god only knows what else, zombified, while trying to wrap his mind around what has happened and what to do about it. A good laugh was finally had by me and no one else - the girl was struggling with reality and poor Flankie was just trying to get clean - OUT, OUT damned spot! And that is the long buried "Gag me with a Spangler" Story.
Next time boys and girls - The Adventures of Roland the Hun.

And you are?

so let's hear it already

Wednesday, December 04, 2002

What else COULD it beRoland

Hey Dave,
Is that story the one where that drunk girl puked on Flankie?

So what's the big deal about the Nightmares and Brian playing Suffer City? Hell, I've played the damned song in every band I've been in - it's not a hard tune to learn and any 13 year old with his (or her) first guitar in about 6 weeks. Brian, you're a helluva guy - got nothing but love for you G. But even this smartass "Bill" guy can play it if someone tunes his guitar for him. But that's not why I'm here. I'm here to announce the REAL story about Franky (Gag me with a Spangler) Spangler. It's coming soon - beats ANY Marcel Yoda story out there. Just ask for it and I'll tell it - exclusively - right here on Johnson City Booger, oops, Blogger. Sorry, the sun was in my eyes there for a moment.

Brook has e mailed me that she is not Elizabeth Williams, and states she can prove this by way of a video tape of the alleged Ms. Williams, so I suppose that ends that issue.......or does it??? I mean, I have seen video tapes of Bigfoot, UFOs, JFK getting shot in the face and Elvis at the Waffle House, and the government states that these tapes mean nothing. So sorry Brook/Elizabeth, I don't think that is proof enough.

As to a Final Curtain show, while it is true that our lawyers and agents have talked they have yet to come to any terms or identified a place in JC we were not banned from. Their consensus so far is that "Green Bay may have what it takes to go all the way this year!" More on that front as it develops.....

Finally, props go out to Doug, who finally got fucked!!!

Tuesday, December 03, 2002

As I sit here listning to The Medieval Babes, and Nine Inch Nails, some of the past is starting to come to me.
I remember fondly sitting at Quarterbacks with Bill and I belive Coker and possibly Frankie but im sure Jimmy Hartsock was there.
Im sure we were discussing world events , possibly global warming and what not. At some point Jimmy decided that since we were all sitting at a round table
we were "Knights of the round table". One thing led to another and for some reason ( mass quanities of beer) Jimmy and i started eating the
potted fern that was in the large picture window. Much of the crowd were amused by this sight. However as the night wore on Jimmy and I started
doing cartwheels on the tables. This was the only time I was ever thrown out of Quarterbacks.