FIRST PUBLIC APPEARANCE
Playing "Where Have All The Flowers Gone", solo, for my mother's Cub Scout
pack.
MOST RECENT PUBLIC APPEARANCE
Playing a bluegrunge ode to Marcia Brady with The Ghost Rockets in Hoboken,
New Jersey's second coolest club.
FIRST "PROFESSIONAL" APPEARANCE
With my first "band" Essie McCloud (named after our bassist's grandmother)
(after my dad had strongly objected to our original name, The Pornographic
Cornflake, which many of you over thirty may recognize as "I Am The Walrus"
lyric). Venue? Our drummist's backyard, for a family barbeque, Summer of
'69. (Historical Footnote: my first, and LAST, assignment as lead
guitarist, after blowing my big solo on "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida": no-one ever
told me you can't play slide guitar with a nail clipper!)
BIGGEST AUDIENCE PLAYED FOR
10,000 (give or take), when my Beach Boy clone combo Endless Summer
performed as both opening act and back-up band for the late, very great
Del
Shannon (Brockville, Ontario "Riverfest", July 1986).
SMALLEST AUDIENCE PLAYED FOR
1 rent-a-cop, who arrived to arrest my band The Loved Ones for playing an
unauthorized concert in an empty lecture hall (we, uhh, broke into) at
Cal
State Long Beach, circa "My Sharona".
STRANGEST AUDIENCE PLAYED FOR
Several cows in an adjoining field grazing nonchalantly as Endless Summer
"headlines" an open-air extravaganza in Quebec during the summer of '85.
(The promoters had gone to the trouble of erecting a gigantic stage,
complete with state-of-the-art sound, light, and sanitation systems in one of
the most picturesque outdoor settings I've ever had the pleasure of spending
two days in... but had neglected to invite an audience!)
MOST THRILLING MOMENT ON STAGE
Singing harmony alongside Del Shannon to "Runaway" and "I Go To Pieces".
LEAST THRILLING MOMENT ON STAGE
Trying to sing harmony alongside (a severely impaired) P.F.Sloan, who
crashed a Dave Rave Conspiracy gig in NYC and insisted we perform his
greatest hit, "Eve of Destruction".
MOST ANXIOUS MOMENT ON STAGE
A hometown show with Endless Summer runs into THREE long and strenuous
encores as my bowels bravely try to withstand a sudden attack of food
poisoning, Mexican-style. (Hysterical Footnote: this was the first time
my
parents had ever seen me perform... just imagine the Freudian connotations!)
"THERE'S NO BIZ LIKE SHOWBIZ" DEPT.
In scenic Holyrood, Newfoundland, halfway through my bar-band The Specs'
gala Tour of Maritime Canada (our Kraft Dinner stockpile already depleted),
I'm elected to try and pry a cash advance off the club owner. However, upon
entering his office and finding cut-off notices from the power company
littering the desk, I keenly surmised we might have trouble getting paid.
So, being young, green, and 2,000 light years from home I decide to ask the
Musician's Union (first mistake) and the local authorities (second
mistake!) for advice. The Union sez "we don't handle claims under 10 grand
- Good luck, boys", and the cops, taking one quick look at our spandex
jumpsuits and shag hairdo's (this was 1976, by the way) give us til sundown
to get the hell out of town. Fine. But when I was again elected to inform
our employer that we would be skipping out on the remaining half of our
engagement "due to extenuating financial circumstances" (LAST mistake)
he
replies, reaching for the ammo, "You guys just TRY getting outta here".
When we do, very early the next morning, we find our accomodations
surrounded by a ravenous pack of growling, foaming attack dogs (which, it
turns out, are being housed and trained right behind the club in question).
Coolly recalling some long-lost episode of "Mission: Impossible", I
suggest we dress one of our sleeping bags in spandex and heave it out the
window, hopefully creating enough of a diversion to allow one of us (guess
who was elected again?) to dash into our van, drive it up to our door, and
execute our escape, Beatles depart Shea Stadium-style.
QUICKEST DRIVE HOME FROM A GIG
The Specs make the 2,500-mile trek between Hooray for Holyrood and Toronto in
a mere 48 hours (including a vomit-soaked overnight ferry ride between
Newfoundland and the Canadian mainland).
QUICKEST (AND MOST ACRIMONIOUS) BREAK-UP OF A BAND
The Specs, a mere 49 hours after arriving home from our gala Maritime Tour.
MORAL OF THIS COLUMN
In the immortal words of the Brothers Everly (by way of John Sebastian):
So if you're on the road a-trackin' down your every night
Singin' for a livin' neath the brightly colored lights
And if you ever wonder why you ride this carousel
You did it for the stories you could tell.