Oops! Damn It! (A Poem That Actually Rhymes!)

A walk in the park on a warm spring day
Just a lovely stroll to take my troubles away
The sunshine, the flowers, children running round
The songbird's sweet melodies’ beautiful sound
A soft scent of roses wafts through the air
A perfect blue sky, and I hadn’t a care
The bench beckoned me for a short restful sit
And then I stepped in that big pile of shit

A perfectly manicured expanse of green lawn
A rippling pond, with lilies and swan
The sound of a carousel came through the trees
The colorful blossoms, soft buzzing of bees
As lovers strolled hand in hand down the lane
While swallows spun circles again and again
I couldn’t believe it, alas, it was true
A brown stinking mess was attached to my shoe

A mother with baby in stroller passed by
A squirrel was scampering in branches on high
The cottony white dreamy clouds were above
While cooing was heard from a fair lonesome dove
And turtles were sunning on rocks by the pond
While shyly a doe kept an eye on her fawn
I lifted my foot and I looked down with dread
Oh why am I wearing a shoe with deep tread?

The soft scent of lilacs were carried by breeze
That rippled the pond, caused movement in leaves
Sounds of the children as they gleefully laughed
A horse-drawn carriage moved by on the path
By green leaves of clover, the odd dandelion
And leaves of the ivy, the twist of the vine
I scraped my foot frantically, stamped my foot hard
The shit had been left by a huge St. Bernard

A child was happy, he clutched his balloon
I heard faraway strains of a musical tune
A mockingbird favored us all with a song
While robins and bluebirds were carrying on
A little fish jumped with a delicate splash
I noticed a can that was meant for one’s trash
Then pulling my my laces, accepting defeat
I tossed in my shoes and walked home in bare feet

(Dedicated to Holly)

A Private Encounter With An Acid-Drenched “Doofer”

I was in a chat room last night, and a very interesting young lady popped in. She announced, “I’m on acid.” Moments later, I received a Private Message room from her. (see the PrintScreens below)

As you can see, I’ve obscured her name, but I thought you might like to know something about her, thus I obtained this information from her profile:

She is a very pretty New Member (with 349 friends already!), 19 Years Old, from Australia (The City and Province have been omitted to prevent you from making a successful search. I want to protect her anonymity.)

About me:
i wish i was a fairy that live under toadstools and smoked fairy dust all day long
Passions:
Dooooofing And Getting Off My Head
Hobbies:
Smoking The Chronic, Tripping, Laughing, Singing
Sense of Humor:
I am the life of the party
Fashion:
Minimal (I wear as little as I can)
Music:
Psytrance

With two separate references to “doofing,” I was compelled to google the word. Wikipedia provided the definition:

A doof or bush doof is a type of outdoor dance party in Australia, generally held in a remote country area or just outside big cities in surrounding bush or rainforests and similar to raves or teknivals, but with a different, more empathetic atmosphere. Doofs generally have live electronic artists and DJs playing a range of electronic music, commonly Goa and psychedelic trance. Doof is also a slang term for food.

The attendees of doof party events tend to be an 'alternative crowd', though the hippie subculture is quite involved with these events. Piercings, dreadlocks and brightly coloured hair were at one stage trademark dress styles within the doof crowd, though other areas of rave culture have begun to bleed through into the doof culture.

Doof parties/festivals commonly go under the radar of most people as they are usually advertised by word of mouth in the doof communities.


She provided three separate YouTube videos of this “doofing” activity:







I've also included an image taken from her Picture Gallery. It was labelled "For Trippers And Only Trippers."


You meet very interesting people in WireClub!

Public Service Award Nominee

I think WireClub should issue a Public Service Award to Amy_2000. Really. I'm not being sarcastic.

Her “Nottyy Room” is a perpetual fixture here, and is always quite popular. Even though the Nottyy Room is a “User” Room, it never disappears from lack of use. It’s always there, waiting for the next h@~*z person looking for a little immediate gratification to stroll in.

Amy_2000 should be given recognition, perhaps a special proclamation, one of those fancy medals, or a framed certificate of appreciation, for this popular place for the h~^z~ to hook up.

Shameless Huckster Sells God/Financial Security-All Major Credit Cards Accepted

I stumbled upon this sleazeball on TV. He’s selling something called the Financial Breakthrough Spiritual Warfare Bible. Here’s the deal: for your “tax deductable gift of only $60” (was $240, then lowered to $100, but if you act in the next ten minutes… ) And with this wonderful version of the Holy Bible, you’ll not only be able to survive the “world-wide financial crisis,” but you’ll actually “grow prosperous!” And the good preacher promises to actually pray, himself, over each and every order sent in for this miraculous Bible, and that God Himself is ordering him to make this blessed offer to you today here in these endtimes! And he’ll also throw in another book, DVD, and pay all shipping costs as a “free bonus”! All major credit cards and checks are accepted! Hurry, before Armegeddon arrives! You don’t want to be meeting Jesus without this wonderful financial tool in hand!

It’s a great scam, because it focuses in on a small, but lucretive, target group: religious nuts who are also a little bit greedy themselves.

I doubt if Hell actually exists, but if it does, there’s a special deluxe chamber awaiting this guy!

Plan 9 From Outer Space ... Synopsis (lifted from Wikipedia)

I was looking at some forum topics on movies, and one was "worst movie," or something to that effect. My choice would be the often cited 1959 turd-of-a-movie "Plan 9 From Outer Space." I wanted to check to see if the title was "Plan 9," or "Nine," and found this synopsis of the stunningly bad film. Not only did the movie have this impressively inane storyline, but the main star, Bela Lugosi, was all strung out on morphine or something, died after only completing the shoots for a few minutes of the movie, and was replaced by some guy about a foot taller, who spent the remainder of the movie holding his Dracula-type cape up over his face with one arm.

Here's the Wiki synopsis:

Airline pilot Jeff Trent and his co-pilot Danny encounter a flying saucer. Meanwhile, two gravediggers are filling the grave of a deceased woman. Suddenly, they hear a strange noise, and decide to leave the cemetery. As they turn to leave, they see a dead woman walking towards them with her arms raised.

Absorbed in his grief over his wife's death, an old man walks out of his house and into the path of an oncoming automobile. At his funeral, two mourners discover the corpses of the gravediggers from the previous scene. Inspector Daniel Clay, along with several police officers, comes to the cemetery to investigate. Clay encounters the female zombie, who is now joined by the corpse of the old man. Clay is killed by the zombies. When his body is found, a police officer speaks the improbable words: "Inspector Clay is dead...murdered...and somebody's responsible!".

Jeff Trent is watching the cemetery with his wife, Paula, and tells her about his flying saucer encounter, stating that the U.S. Army has sworn him to secrecy about what he saw. He suspects that whatever is happening in the cemetery is related to his UFO encounter. Suddenly, a powerful wind knocks everyone to the ground. A spaceship lands nearby.

In the weeks that follow, newspaper headlines report other flying saucer sightings. The military, under the command of Colonel Thomas Edwards, finally attacks the alien spaceships. The spaceships leave Earth. Colonel Edwards reveals that the government has been covering up the flying saucer visits to Earth, and he wonders if the alien visits are connected to other Earth disasters.

The aliens return to Space Station 7 for regeneration. Their commander, Eros, informs the Ruler that he has attempted, unsuccessfully, to contact the governments of Earth. He tells the Ruler that to force the people of Earth to acknowledge his people's existence, he is implementing Plan Nine, which involves resurrecting people who have recently died by stimulating their pituitary and pineal glands. The three alien ships return to Earth.

Jeff is about to leave home again for another flight. Concerned for Paula's safety, he urges her to stay with her mother while he's gone, but she insists on staying home. That night, the corpse of the old man rises from his crypt and sneaks into their house. Joined by the corpse of his wife and the newly resurrected Daniel Clay, he chases Paula through the cemetery. Paula collapses and is found by a passing motorist who drives away with her limp body. All three zombies return to Eros' ship, which lifts off.

Eros is nearly killed by the corpse of Inspector Clay. "That was too close!" At the Pentagon, General Roberts informs Colonel Edwards that the government has been receiving messages from the aliens. The general plays the last message, which has been translated into English by a recently invented "language computer." The general sends Edwards to San Fernando, California, where most of the aliens' activities have occurred.

In California, the police interview the Trents about their experiences with the aliens. Unbeknownst to them, the alien saucer has returned to the graveyard. While waiting by the police car, officer Kelton encounters the old man. The old man chases the officer to the Trents' house, where they attempt to shoot him, with no effect. The nearby aliens strike the old man with a "decomposite ray", causing his body to decompose, leaving only his skeleton. Not knowing what to make of this, they decide to drive to the cemetery.

Pilot Jeff Trent confronts the aliens.On board the ship, Eros and Tanna send Clay to kidnap Paula in order to lure the other three to their spaceship, which he does. Meanwhile, seeing a glow in the distance, the other three head toward the ship.

Eros allows them to enter, and they board with their guns drawn. Once inside, Eros tells the humans that his people first came to Earth to talk and to ask for their aid, but the humans wouldn't listen to their messages. According to Eros, the humans will eventually discover the solarbonite, a bomb that has the effect of exploding "sunlight molecules." Eros explains that a solarbonite explosion would destroy everything the sunlight touches, causing a chain reaction that would eventually destroy the entire universe. "If you have the solarbonite, you have nothing!"

Outside the ship, Clay arrives with Paula. Eros threatens to have her killed if they try to force him to go with them. The two police officers arrive and spot Clay with Paula. They realize that their guns are useless, and decide to approach Clay from behind with a stick. Eros sees this, and shuts off the ray controlling Clay, allowing Paula to go free. A fight ensues inside between Eros and Jeff. During the fight, a fire is started. The humans leave the ship, and it takes off in flames. Eros and Tanna are trapped as the ship explodes in space. As a consequence of the explosion, Clay and the female zombie turn into skeletons.

Brain Strainer Answer

For no particular reason, I quickly tired of the concept of the Brain Strainer. So I have decided to post the answer to the puzzle after only a day or so. Here is the original text (and the original geometric figure) of Brain Strainer:

Below is a photo of a geometric figure. Click on it to expand it to maximum size.

How many different triangles can you find within this geometric figure?

When you think you know the answer, send that answer to me as a message. Do not share your answer with others. (You are honor-bound to follow through on this.)

You will be allowed only one single attempt to answer this puzzle. Answering more than one time will cause all of your answers to be deleted and disregarded. ONE TRY ONLY, SO BE SURE!

DO NOT LEAVE YOUR ANSWER AS A COMMENT BELOW THIS BLOG! Any comment left will be deleted as soon as possible. Again, send your answer to me as a message.

After a few days I will edit this blog, adding the correct answer, and changing the title of the blog to show that the answer has been posted. I will also provide a means to make a quick and easy assessment of the puzzle, and I will also provide a list of those who submitted answers, and what their answers were.

Here is one single clue for you: This puzzle is more difficult than you might think it is!

Good luck!

Okay. As promised, here is a list of those who answered, and their answers:

Holly: 28
Karma: 19
Barnsie and her daughter "R" (disqualified for sharing): 14
Bad Girl: 21
PTB052: 10
Pablitox: 13

And finally, I have provided the answer to Brain Strainer, and the means to see exactly how many triangles there are in the figure.

I GOOFED WITH THE ANSWER! HOW DID I DO THIS? I DID THIS BECAUSE I AM A SLOPPY DUMBASS!

Upon close re-examination, my original "answers" contain no fewer than 3 errors:
1. BDK is missing
2. BEK is listed erroneously
3. FHK is missing

The correct list of triangles has now been provided ... I think.

HOLLY NOT ONLY BEAT ALL OF YOU, BUT BEAT ME AS WELL! SHE IS THE SUPREME NUMBER ONE MOJO MOFO BUFU ALL ENCOMPASSING ABSOLUTE TOTAL AND COMPLETE DOMINATRIX OF THE BRAIN STRAINER!

I, on the other hand, screwed this thing up, down and sideways. Let's all say this together:

HOLLY IS SMART! STUCKINTHESIXTIES IS A DUMBASS!

Feel free to add comments here if you want to.

Dances With ... WireClub Style

You've probably seen the beautiful, classic Kevin Costner film "Dances With Wolves." Costner plays Lt. Dunbar, who is taken in by a Lakota Sioux tribe and is given the name that titles the film. Other characters in the movie are "Stands With A Fist," "Kicking Bird," "Wind In His Hair," and "Smiles A Lot."

Holly (aka WorldsApart) and I were having this goofy conversation, about my purported "hippieness," and she gave me a silly hippieish, Native American sounding name: "Running Bare." Funny. A good pun. And she gave herself a couple of others, both alluding to her lovely bosom: "Twin Moons Of Passion" and "Entrancing Globes."

The figurative light clicked on over my head, and the idea for a silly blog came to mind. Use this blog as a place to make up silly, but fitting, "Dances With Wolves" type names for other WireClub users. The intent should be to have the name fit the person, and if you can also make everyone laugh, so much the better.

Feel free to make multiple examples for the same person, or to come up with another name for someone who has already gotten a name by someone else.

Let me make one up right now:

barnestorming_girl ... her new name is:

Types Randomly With Feet

I'm Worked Up Over This

It's not too often that I get worked up over something in WireClub. This place has no shortage of jerks, idiots, a#z*z@z^, bigots, etc. It's just a part of the landscape here. But occasionally, I do get pissed off enough about something to speak up about it. Hence, this blog.

A little while ago I stumbled across the "Hitler Sign" club in the notification on my Home page that a new addition to my "Friends List" had joined it. I immediatly investigated, and I found this club, which I've displayed below in the form of PrintScreens.

Those of you who know me well know that I don't join clubs. It's just a decision I made some time ago. And if you don't join a certain club, you're not allowed to add anything within it's forum. Well, there was no WAY I would break my "no joining clubs" policy for this piece os shit, nor would I care to have "StuckInTheSixties has joined "Hitler Sign" club plastered all up and down my friend's Home pages. But I did want to speak out, not just here, to my friends, but right there in the midst of this REVOLTING club.

I created a new WireClub account specifically for the purpose of this. The name, appropriately enough, is "This_Club_SUCKS."

Please examine these twelve PrintScreens. But before you make any comment, please also examine any comments that were added below the blog. It's really a good idea to get the ENTIRE context of this issue before speaking out. I may have been too harsh on the creator of this club myself. I'm not sure now. Please read ...

CyberSex (one word at a time)

Any comments consisting of more than one word will be deleted, even if it messes up the train of thought. (Hyphenated words will be accepted, as long as you don't get to extreme about it.)

One other little rule: no consecutive comments by the same person. I'll accept to people with alternating comments, but for cryin' out loud, see if you can get at least three or four goin' at the same time, OK?

This might not be my stupidest blog, but it's right up there near the top.


I'll begin with ...


Baby ...


ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION!
ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION! ATTENTION!


Announcing a minor change in the "rules": If you end a sentence by entering a word, and then doing this ...

. (end of sentence)

... you are then invited to begin the next sentence with a new word. This is the only time consecutive comments will be tolerated.

Also, a reminder: only ONE WORD AT A TIME. I have deleted a few comments already for breaking this rule. (Hyphenated words are accepted within reason.)

Dear (blank)

The concept for this blog is semi-ripped off from lumu81’s “Just A Thought” blog. Credit given where credit is due.

This blog kind of depends on your honor. It’s meant to have a sort of secrecy as an element, and that will depend upon you. Here’s the idea:

As a comment attached to this blog, you write:

Dear (blank),

And then you write something to someone who remains unnamed.

Here’s a stipulation: You are honor bound to NOT divulge who the “blank” is to ANYONE! You don’t tell your friends who the “blank” is. You don’t tell the “blank” that they are the “blank.” And you don’t even tell someone, “No, you are not “blank.”

Of course, you can certainly word the message in any way you want, as obviously as you want, so that there’s no doubt as to whom “blank” is.

You can also use “Dear blank” in much less obvious ways as well. You can word it in a way to make it impossible for the subject to know that they are, indeed, “blank.”

Or you can make it ambiguous, so that your “blank,” and all other readers, might have an idea, but won’t really be sure.

If this prompts arguments amongst you as to who a certain “blank” is, I’ll be quite happy.

Even though Readers/Commentors are honor bound not to ask directly about the identity of any “blank,” they are welcome to speculate in comment as to who “blank” is. Feel free to speculate in comments all you want to. Just don’t ask people directly, and don’t tell people directly.

You are welcome to make your message as short or long as you want, however, even if it’s necessary for multiple comments to get it all in there.

I have no idea if this will work as I want it to. It seems kind of complex in explanation, although I think it’s fairly simple in concept. (shrugs) Whatever …

OK. Let me start things off with one myself:




Dear (blank),

You fascinate me! You have the most amazing blogs on an amazing array of subjects, and those blogs just make me wonder what is going on in your mind. You appear to be VERY, VERY intelligent, and I find that ... attractive. I would NEVER say all of this to you outright, because my intuition tells me it would probably make you uncomfortable. But you fascinate me ...

StuckInTheSixties

One Of Those Lists (Appropriated From Holly)

A - Age: 56
B - Bed size: Queen
C - Chore you hate: anything strenuous and dirty
D - Dogs: They're OK if they're clean, short-haired and friendly, for instance, a labrador; for myself, I prefer cats
E - Essential start your day item: Nothing in particular
F - Favorite color: Purple
G - Gold or Silver: Silver.
H - Height: 5'7" / 170 cm
I - Instruments you play(ed): guitar, keyboards, vocals
J - Job title: currently not working
K - Kid(s): 0
L - Living arrangements: solitary
M - Mom's name: Lorene Elizabeth (I miss her)
N - Nicknames: a shortened version of my regular name (withheld), Stuck, Mr. Stuck, Stucky, Stuckolicious (lois_lane calls me that); SITS, Sits, sits, stu, Darling, Smirky ... and Sparkle INSISTS on calling me Sexy Beast.
O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: none, but a couple of 8-10 hour stays
P - Pet Peeve: loud cell-phone talkers in otherwise quiet places, like restaurants ( About a month ago, I was in a restaurant, and this JERK in the next booth put his cell phone on speaker at maximum volume, set it on the table in front, and proceded to yell at it in some sort of work-related conversation. He was indignant with me when I objected, with the waitress who intervened, and at the rest of the patrons who joined in the vocal protest. He said, "F@z~ you all" as he left. The restaurant applauded. )
Q - Quote from a movie: There's many, but I'll go with a classic: "Badges? We ain't got no badges. We don't need no badges! I don't have to show you any stinkin' badges!" (The Treasure Of The Sierra Madre)
R - Right or left handed: RIGHT
S - Siblings: 1 sister, two years older, lives 3000 miles away
T - Time you wake up: varies
U - Underwear: tighty whities
V - Vegetable you dislike: broccoli, califlower
W - Ways you run late: I dally around the house instead of getting ready to leave.
X - X-rays you've had: many, the last one was exotic, an angiogram.
Y - Yummy food you make: barbecue, particularly garlic shrimp
Z - Zoo favorite: Anything that's not just laying there motionless (but I find zoos a bit depressing)

Alternate smart-ass version of the above:

A - Age: older than you
B - Bed size: Custom designed and built, giant, circular, revolving, vibrating, with zebra-skin cover, silk sheets, and a mirrored disco ball hanging above
C - Chore you hate: waxing (down there)
D - Dogs: sure, or sheep, goats, donkeys, horses, whatever ... so long as it cooperates
E - Essential start your day item: see "D"
F - Favorite color: Maroon, just because Bugs Bunny says "What a maroooooooon!"
G - Gold or Silver: They are both below my dignity. I prefer platinum.
H - Height: 5'7" / 170 cm (not too statuesque, I know ... to bad the question isn't about length and girth)
I - Instruments you play(ed): bagpipes, kazoo, hollow log, gong
J - Job title: Supreme and Omnipotent Master of the Known and Unknown Universe
K - Kid(s): far too many to count, easily in the hundreds, perhaps thousands
L - Living arrangements: with Harem
M - Mom's name: "Hey! You! Fetch me ..."
N - Nicknames: "Rod Long" (my porn name)
O - Overnight hospital stay other than birth: none, but frequent visits to the sperm bank. Hey, it's my gift to humanity ...
P - Pet Peeve: anyone not acceptant of my obvious superiority over them
Q - Quote from a movie: "Oh, god! Oh, yes! Yes! Right there! Yes! Yes! Yes! Oh, god! You're so good! Yes, Baby! Yes!" ( "In Diana Jones and the Raiders Of The Lost Arse" )
R - Right or left handed: I can gratify myself with either hand
S - Siblings: None (I had them all executed)
T - Time you wake up: when one of my girls wants me
U - Underwear: Russian sable
V - Vegetable you dislike: anything that can't be somehow used for "gratification"
W - Ways you run late: When she just won't let me go
X - X-rays you've had: None, but I really enjoyed my colonoscopy.
Y - Yummy food you make: extra large sausage (if you know what I mean)
Z - Zoo favorite: Anything mating

An Imaginary Chat Room

A short imaginary period of time with seven imaginary stoners in an imaginary WireClub chat room ... with an imaginary prank by three real people. Try to read it to the end.

WireClub Clubs That Don’t Exist, But That Should

> I’m Always Complaining About The “Drama” (That I’m Actually Obsessed With)

> Users Of Fake Profile Pics

> Neerley Funkshunelly Ilitterit Chaturs

> Cybersex is Disgusting! (Except On My Other Account)

> Tiny Penises

> Creators Of Rooms With Pointless Warnings That "I “Kick ...”

> Let’s Compare Our Rashes

Hey, I have another one ...

> People that upload CELEBRITIES, UNDERWEAR, NAKED or SUGGESTIVE pictures!


I'll add more as I think 'em up. Any suggestions?

The pictures below are PrintScreens of actual clubs that have spun into existence as a result of this blog! Egad! I've created a monster! To view them in the correct order, go to the last one, expand it by clicking on it, and then keep clicking "Previous."

4th Annual Mothers Day Frank Zappa Bash (text & photos)

Those who know me well know that my favorite musician of all time is Frank Zappa. I was invited to the “4th Annual Mothers Day Frank Zappa Bash,” held at the Bay View Boat Club in San Francisco, on May 10 (Mothers Day, of course). For those of you not familiar with Frank Zappa, first, the reason for the date of this affair pertains to the fact that for many years the band Frank led was the Mothers Of Invention, also simply known as “The Mothers.” Second, you might check out my blog “My Hobby Is A Man”

( http://www.wireclub.com/Blogs/StuckInTheSixties/26597 ).

At this event were two old friends of mine, both of whom are EXTREMELY critical to my relationship with Frank and his music. I’ll try to be brief with my little story:
I was living in Marin County, California in 1974 with my girlfriend Charlene and our buddy Wayne. We’d all been raised here in Napa, were sharing a house in Marin, and decided to look for another place. We met Ed, a New York transplant and drummer, who was also looking for living space. Like Charlene, Wayne and I, Ed was a music student at College of Marin, and shared, to a great degree, or listening tastes, lifestyle, etc. We found a house in the country which we all shared, along with a penchant for rather extreme partying, for a year or so.

During the time he was a housemate, Ed turned us all onto his favorite musician, Frank Zappa. We were sort of familiar with him, but hadn’t followed his career. It helped that in contrast to us former Napans, Ed had been raised in more affluent conditions, was being subsidized by his folks, and had a VERY expensive stereo system and huge collection of records. We spent many hours blitzed on various substances and sitting in the dark between Ed’s stereo speakers. Because of Ed, I became hooked on Zappa.

In the years following, I dug far more deeply into Frank’s music, developed a real love for the guy and his art, and began a lifelong pursuit to study his work that continues to this day. Frank was, and still is, my favorite musician of all time.

Zappa was touring in 1980, and during his stopover at the Berkeley Community Theater, Ed and I were both in attendance. Ed had attempted the rather audacious feat of transcribing one of Zappa’s most ridiculously complex compositions, appropriately entitled “The Black Page.” (The title connotes that there are so many notes that the page is black.) In an even more extreme act of unmitigated audacity, before the show, Ed went to the backstage door, knocked, and explained to the person who answered what he had done, and wondered if there was some way that he could get Frank to take a look at his transcription. Word was sent up the line, and reached Zappa, who immediately said, “Bring him in here.” After a cursory greeting and a minute or two of conversation, Frank produced a red pen, and proceeded to put the pen to Ed’s transcription, while saying, “That’s wrong, this is wrong, that one’s wrong …”

He continued to talk music with Ed, to feel him out as to his background, experience, interests, training, etc. Finally, he slipped Ed a piece of paper with a contact phone number, and asked him to call his office in the future to set up an audition. Ed begged off for the near future, explaining that while playing in Frank’s band was a life’s dream, he felt that he needed at least several more years of work before being “ready” to audition. But he kept the number, of course.

A little less than a year later, a common friend of ours, another music student and guitarist, Derek Thunes, finished up his college program, and looking for a gig, obtained the number from Ed and called it to request an audition. He spoke with Frank, who told him, “I don’t need a guitarist. I just hired a guitarist. [It was Steve Vai.] I need a bass player. Know any good bass players?” Derek told Frank that indeed, his brother Scott was an excellent bassist. Frank told Derek to have Scott make contact if he was interested.

Scott, yet another motley College of Marin music student, made the phone call and spoke at length with Frank. He was subsequently flown down to Los Angeles for an audition, and then, flown down for a second audition. Finally, he was flown down a third time for a “bass-off” against another guy. The other musician had hotter chops than Scott, but Scott had much better musicianship, such as the ability to sight-read, to learn really difficult compositions very quickly, to understand technical musical jargon and concepts, etc. He got the job.

So now, suddenly one of my good pals was the bassist for my favorite musician of all time. I was still in school, so I was tied down to my studies, but still I made time to attend a bunch of shows with Frank’s tour, even flying out to New York City for the annual Halloween extravaganza. Scott was my connection, my ace in the hole, of course. He arranged for me to have access backstage at the concerts I attended and introduced me to Frank and the other musicians. Best of all, I was able to attend the afternoon rehearsals that took place before every show. This was heaven for a music student. I was able to see the “nuts and bolts” of the music being assembled, to see the birth of brand new compositions, the breaking out of old favorites or rarities from the deep recesses of Frank’s catalogue, to witness alterations to the songs in order to customize the show for that particular locale, to inject the music with all sorts of silly topical references, and in general, to watch the man take the building materials of his hundreds of compositions, and construct the show for that evening, a show that would be different each and every night. It was paradise. It continued for the better part of a decade before Frank stopped touring, and eventually died of prostate cancer.

I’ve remained good friends with Ed and Scott, and was elated to find out that they were involved in this “Mothers Day” day event. Here’s a few of the many photos I took: