Practical Jokes In bands

In 1980 I played in a rock band called The Night People.

We bought another bus and went out to Connecticut a lot for some reason.

These guys were heavily into practical jokes.

One night while I was passed out, they took my shoes and socks off and painted my feet black with liquid shoe polish.

I woke up with a "Please Kill Me," hangover, jumped into the shower, looked down at my black feet and let a screech outta me.

I thought I had a disease.

It took me hours of scrubbing to get the black off my feet, and I began planning my revenge.I hopped in the bus and went to the store.

I bought 6 tubes of super glue and 3 packages of hot dogs.

I waited for my bandmates to borrow the bus to go out for more beer. Then while they were gone, I went to work.

I cut the hot dogs into inch long pieces, and carefully placed a piece of a hot dog into every pocket of every piece of clothing they owned.

Then I began super gluing everything they owned to whatever surface it was resting on.

I superglued their shoes to the floor, their matches to their cigarettes,the lid to their coolers shut.

I glued their deodorant to the table. Etc Etc...

After the big "Get Even," I thought it was over.

It wasn't.

They got water balloons and greeted me with a total bombardment when I came into my room.

I borrowed a key to their room from the front desk. The wall switch turned on the wall plug, where the lamp plugged in. I knew that.

So I set up a flash bomb with a massive dose of flash powder, and waited. the band often used flash bombs in our act.

When they came home they flicked the switch and got knocked on their asses by the explosion, which set all the alarms off in the hotel.

The management was not happy with us.

Then they saw the damage that the water balloons had done, and they threw us out.

We got a new hotel.

The next day, While they were all asleep I changed all their watches and clocks 4 hours ahead.

Then I woke them up and told them they were late for the gig.

They all started taking showers and ironing as fast as they could to get ready for the gig.

When It was just about time to leave, I pretended to be pissed at them for being late, and took off in the bus without them.

I went to the pet store and bought two gerbils and a habit trail.

I brought the gerbils into the hotel room and told them that I'd decided not to go to the gig. That I would stay in my room with my gerbils.

They thought I'd lost my F*cking mind.

I let it all go on till gig time, and they looked very worried and confused, and then I told them what I had done with the clocks.

We all laughed our asses off for a while, and they promised never to screw around with me again.

The next day they filled my shoes with cool whip.

Doctor Wonderful

"Doctor Wonderful's office"
"Yes this is Kenny. My arm is..."
"Would like to see Dr. Wonderful?
"Yes as soon as possible."
"A week from next Tuesday? Would that be good?"
"Well I was hoping I could see him sooner...My arm, it's killing me!"
"Ho ho ho! See him sooner! That's very funny! You shouldn't make me laugh so hard especially right after lunch like this."
"At Lunch? Is that where you were? I've been trying to call you for about two hours and nobody answers."
"Who cares? So, a week from next Tuesday, okay then?"
"What time?"
"Is 4 p.m. okay?"
"Anything earlier?"

"Well, we don't answer the phones until 10, and then we go to lunch at around 11, and we don't answer the phone again, until we get back around 1:00.

Then doctor takes turns doing us, one by one, and he should be able to see you about four o'clock. He has one other patient at 4:30, then it's cocktails, dinner, and golf."
"But my arm... It's hanging off. It's killing me."
"Are you calling just to get drugs?"
"No, I'm just..."
"See you a week from next Tuesday 4 p.m! Have a nice day!"

"Send in the next whining peasant."

"Hello Dr. Wonderful."
"Why hello Ken. What's the problem?"
" It's my arm. It's been hanging off for a week now. It's killing me"
"Ken, if it were really killing you you'd be dead by now, so let's not overreact okay? The important thing is, you are here, and that I can't be bothered. I just don't give a shit, okay? I'm very tired from doing all of the nurses one by one. Stop wasting my time. What I want to do, is to send you to another doctor. His name is Dr. Important. He's a specialist with hanging arms and so forth. He's building a new pool in his backyard, and he could use a little extra money. You'll have to make the appointment yourself, then call us when you get the appointment, and beg my impudent unfriendly staff for a referral. Okay? Meanwhile take care of that hanging arm. Don't forget the copayment, on your way out. Thanks for coming down today. Have you seen my new Mercedes? Whoa, it's five past four! I have another patient to rush through before cocktails and dinner and golf. Let me know how you make out some day. See you later!"

"Hello, I'm here to see Dr. Important."

"Oh yes, you were referred to us by Dr. Wonderful' s office. Apparently you whined to them a week and a half ago. Take a seat with the other whining peasant's, wait for two hours or so, and even though your arm is hanging off, please fill out our seven-page questionnaire. Dr. important we'll see you when he's damn good and ready. Until then, try reading a Time magazine from the Reagan era while listening to the horribly boring classical music, on our Boze magic wave radio."

"Hello Ken, I'm Dr. Important. Geewhiz! That's one sore looking arm you got hanging off there. What can I do for you today?"
"Well you see Doc, it's my right arm. It's hanging off and it's been killing me for a month."
"I see, and how long has this been killing you?"
"About a month, I just told you."
"What did you say? I'm sorry I wasn't listening. I was thinking about that new pool in my backyard."
"I said my right arm has been hanging off and killing me for a month."
"Well Ken let's not over exaggerate! If it was killing you for two weeks, like you say, you'd be dead by now. Let me look at it. Hmmmm... it does appear to be hanging off. I'll bet that sore isn't it? This is your right arm, isn't it? And look at that bulge on it! I wonder what that is?"
"My friends call it Righty Bulger."

"Let's see, does it hurt when I twist it like this?"

"AAHHHH!!! YES!"

"How about when I press on it like this?"

"OOOHHH!!! Jesus!"

"Not just relax. Now I'm going to tug on your arm, and just before you pass out, I want you to tell me on a scale of one to 10, how much pain you're in. Okay?"

"YEOWCH! JESUS CHRIST!!! Oh SHIT!!!"

"Now Ken that didn't hurt. You're probably just here for some drugs, right?

"No!"

"You're a musician aren't you? I know you're the type. Put some ice on it. NEXT!"

The Turkey

This morning I went to Dunkin Donuts at the Redstone shopping center.
There's a turkey there.
It's the second time I've seen him.
He hangs around in the parking lot.
He stands in the doorway of the eyeglass shop.
People feed him muffins and flick smokes at him. A Friggin' TURKEY! He eats the muffins. He ignores the smokes though.

The seagulls steal his muffins and he just stands there shitting on the sidewalk.

He's big too. He could probably kick a seagull's ass, but there's too many of them. I wish he would pick up one of those cigarettes just and stand there with it dangling out of his mouth, and tell the gulls to screw.

"That's my muffin! Get the f*ck outta here!"

But he just stands there shitting, with the cigarettes burning nearby.

Normal. ?

I know the feeling of the brain that wont shut off... especially late at night.
I envy people who can just decide to sleep, and then do it.
I keep a pad of paper by the bed and often write in complete darkness.
The next morning, when I read it, I'm either disappointed, elated, or confused by what I've written, or else I can't read it at all.
I have notebooks full of that stuff.
I have always kept a small recorder near me in case I get an idea. I have drawers full of tapes that I'll never listen to.
In a closet upstairs, I have boxes of note books I've scribbled in.
Most of it is pure shit, but every now and then i know I have something.
Someday, when I kick off, somebody will go through all that crap, and they'll confirm the fact that I'm out there where the buses don't run.
That's okay with me.
I'm very glad to be a musician and a songwriter. I couldn't be normal if I tried.
To me it would be an insult to be called normal.

Lot's of people are normal.
I'm a musician.
That's all I ever wanted to be.

I like that better than being normal,

and I have no choice anyways

The Tubes At Patriot Place May 30th, 2009

For Christmas my wife Katie bought us tickets to see The Tubes, one of my favorite bands from the 70's & 80''s.
Now I had seen these guys back in the 80's when they were HUGE, and the production was amazing. It was one of the funniest, most entertaining and musically satisfying shows I had ever seen. I remember people leaving that show, saying "WOW!"
Back in those days The Tubes had about 15 people on stage, elaborate theatrical sets and props, voluptuous dancing girls, and they kicked ass.

I was wondering if they could still knock me out like that now that so many years have passed.

The answer is YES.

Fee Waybill is the funniest most entertaining front man ever.

From the very beginning of the set, from the first note of the first song, I knew this was gonna be good.

Any fears that The Tubes might have lost it because of their age were bashed away by drummer Prairie Prince, who is truly one of the world's great rock drummers.
He plays with the precision and the skill of a fusion drummer, but he has the power of an angry caveman. His feet are as fast as his hands, and his hands are as fast as pistons. His fills never get in the way and he's got more chops than Bruce Lee.

Fee enters stage right, in a ripped up shabby three piece suit, a bad tie, completely disheveled, a large glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He satggers onto the stage and immediately goes into a huge coughing fit, gagging and swaying, with smoke billowing out of his nostrils. He recovers. He stomps the smoke out on the stage, grabs the mike and starts singing.

He sounds amazing!
He rips those clothes off and underneath them he's got blue jeans and a T shirt. He throws his shabby suit into the crowd. they eat it up. This is fun!
He shakes his hair out and he's a rocker now. the band is kickin ass and he's all over the place.

A bit later they go into 'What Do You Want From Life."

What a great song.

The band brings it down a bit, and he goes into the crowd interviewing people, asking them what they want from life.

A woman replies, "Sex."
Fee points out her husband. He says, "With THIS GUY? I don't think so. Kinda looks gay to me!

Another woman says "Peace." He says "Well, keep wishin' sister cause you're never gonna F***in' get it."

He goes on like this from table to table. I'm laughing so hard my face hurts.
My wife is howling.

In between songs he talks about the previous gig they did in Shirley Mass, says he met a lesbian on a horse, walked over to say hello. "The horse farted, and the lesbian punched me in the mouth."
I can't remember every joke he did, but he was spontaneous as hell, a truly twisted man. I love him. He kills me.
...and that guitar player! Roger Steen? Jeeeeeezus! Can that guy play!
And the guy has great tone as well.

Yes they're older, and the production has been scaled down, but if you get a chance to see these guys you WILL get your money's worth. I promise you that. You will be entertained.

During the song "I don't Wanna Wait Anymore," Fee showed us he can really sing. This guy has power, and who is a better performer than Fee?

After the show, after all the laughs, and two solid hours of high energy music, the guys had a little "meet & greet," session and signed tee shirts etc...
They really took the time to talk to me. I was impressed with that. No airs, just regular guys who seemed to care about their fans.

I asked Prairie Prince, "Are you guys writing and recording any new stuff?"
He rolled his eyes and said talk to HIM. He pointed at Fee. I shook his hand and asked him the same question.
He said "No. Nobody gives a shit."
I went nuts.
"Whattayou mean, nobody gives a shit? We LOVE you!"
He said, "Yeah, you and ten other guys. Nobody cares about us anymore. they're just not interested."
God, I hated hearing that!
I went over to the guitarist and we talked about guitar effects and stuff. He's a really nice guy, and then I asked him about recording, and he too said that nobody would buy a Tubes record these days. fee heard him, and chimed in again, and I told him, "Man! With aband like this it's a damned SIN not to record it. fee, you are one of the best songwriters in rock music. Don't give it up! Write more songs, dammit! We still need you, now more than ever. You make us laugh. People need to laugh. They need clever songs like the ones you write. We're sick of hearing about the economy and the wars, and who needs another whining singer talking about his deep feelings? We wanna laugh and forget all that shit."

He seemed to genuinely appreciate what I was saying. He said, "I am writing songs for a solo album." the guitar player said he was too. I said "Good. Don't ever give up."

I thanked them, and because I was holding up the line, I said goodbye and walked away, carrying my autographed tee shirts, like some ancient version of a teenaged kid.

On the way home I felt glad to have met those guys. Maybe my pep talk might have helped them, who knows? They seemed like such nice guys.
But I also felt a bit sad.
It's such a shame, this lousy music business, the way it beats people up.
I don't care what they said, people do care. I do. I love those songs. I love that band.

See them while you can folks.
They don't make 'em like that any more.

Talk to ya later.




-----------------------------------

And This Just In...from the Lowell Sun:

Rock band hit by theft in Shirley
By Robert Mills, Sun Staff
Updated: 05/31/2009 06:42:49 AM EDT

SHIRLEY -- The Tubes left their concert at The Bull Run Restaurant Friday night missing a few articles of clothing and more than a few dollars in cash.

The veteran rockers, who scored their first hit in 1975 with "White Punks on Dope," were on stage at the Great Road restaurant when someone apparently stole one band member's jacket and another band member's pants.

They told police there was $750 in cash in the jacket and $150 in the pants.

Police were called to the restaurant about 11:20 p.m., but no one had seen much.

It appears the items and cash were stolen between 8:30 and 10:45 p.m. while the band was playing, police said.

Anyone with information is asked to call Shirley police at (978) 425-2644.

The Shirley concert was part of a tour of the United States and Europe. The band was scheduled to head to England this week.

Who the hell is Kenny Hogan?

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