I had always heard stories of my dad and Ben playing there. They always talked about how much fun they usually had. The beer garden was usually set up behind the bar.
This was supposed to be a big thing for them. My dad had wanted more than that.
The festival wasn’t very big. There weren’t too many things that went on for the two day event.
The town had always put a stage up in the middle of the main street. They brought in a band every year. My dad just couldn’t get a chance to do their main attraction.
The festival was a couple days before my twentieth birthday. My dad was trying to go all out to play at the beer gardens.
He wanted to make hats, shirts, and guitar picks. He wanted everyone to pitch in money to help, but no one did. I didn’t because I didn’t think it was a good idea.
My dad thought he could take them and sell them at places we played. I didn’t think this would work. We weren’t really playing anywhere else.
I tried to express my feelings to my dad. Expressing myself only turned me into the bad guy.
My brother had drawn the design for the tee shirts. It was a dream catcher with a bull’s skull over it. It didn’t look bad.
My dad had guitar picks with the band’s name printed on them. I didn’t see myself as a full member of the band, so I had picks made up with my name on them. I had seen myself as an individual guitarist just sitting in with a band.
They had the beer garden behind the local firehouse. The beer truck was brought in and the parking lot was fenced off.
Ben had lights and we could use them. They were different colors and ran off a switch board.
He was an electrician. He had everything set up.
There were a lot of people there. We all played good.
My dad did most of the singing. Bill did his five songs. I just sat back and played guitar.
I had an adrenaline rush all night.
My dad did sell some shirts and hats. He didn’t make a profit. He ended up losing money. The band hadn’t been together long enough to have a name good enough to sell merchandise.
The night was good overall. I hadn’t got paid for anything, but it wasn’t what it had been about.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I had turned twenty years old and was still living at the same motel. The band had slowly fallen apart. It went back to how it was started, just two.
My dad and I still played a little. He was still playing at the same bar on the same night. I still went and played but not every week.
The bar wasn’t exciting anymore. It was always the same people there. Most of the people were a lot older than me.
I didn’t miss a chance to play somewhere else than the bar.
We got to play at Stan’s brother’s annual party again. It was different than the first time we were there.
There weren’t any other bands or stage. My dad and I just played around for the people that were there.
It happened to be the night that I had gotten to try true moonshine. It was brought out in a mayonnaise jar. It burnt all the way down.
My dad and I had gotten into an argument on the way home. He started telling me how to drive and it got on my nerves. I had gotten so mad that I slammed on the breaks as hard as I could while going fifty-miles per hour.
I don’t know how we even made it home that day. I had gotten so mad at him that I didn’t even want to look at him.
Things were slowly down with music between my dad and me. Then I had a chance to move out of the motel. I didn’t know if it was a good idea or not, but I needed a change in pace.
My aunt on my mom’s side was divorcing her husband, Jeff. He was staying at their house till it was sold. He needed someone to help pay the bills.
My aunt was short women with blond hair. She was in her late twenties. Jeff was a little odd and very tall. They both had come to talk to me about moving in with them.
I packed up and moved to Englewood twenty minutes away. I stayed down in their finished basement of the nice house.
I didn’t go out and play much while staying there. We did go see my dad play once at the bar.
Jeff had liked how my dad sounded. He just wasn’t into the hole in the wall country bar scene.
I did play some around the house. Jeff liked to listen to me play sometimes. He said that I smiled when I played.
After a month had gone by, Jeff had wanted to bring in another roommate. His name was Gary. Gary and Jeff had been friends for awhile.
Gary and Jeff are big guys. They are both around 6’ 5” and loved to work out. I felt out of place just standing next to the two being only 5’ 10” and hundred-and-twenty pounds.
After talking to Gary, I found out he knew my dad. He liked listening to my dad play music. He said that I sounded like my dad when I played.
We had started becoming friends and the three of hanged out. Jeff liked going to dance clubs, but I wasn’t into that. Gary had a better place to hangout.
Gary was a bouncer at a strip club. This was a place that the three of us could agree on. This would be the first time I would ever enter a strip club.
I was only twenty and I shouldn’t have been able to get in. I thought it was going to be a waste of time, because they weren’t going to let me in. Gary had kept saying that he had an idea that would actually work.
We would all walk in together. When they try to ID me, Gary did the talking. He told them that I didn’t have an ID, but he knew that I was twenty-one. They actually believed him.
We started hanging out at the strip club. We played pool and drank. The strippers would come over and play pool with us, because they knew Gary.
This is how things went for me. The people I was with were good people even if they didn’t always do good things. It was a lot different than what I had been used to.
Sundays became the day Gary and I would cruise around Dayton. We didn’t drive around for nothing. We drove around that way Gary could deliver weed to people.
Things started coming to an end when the house was finally going to be sold. Jeff was glad to see if over. Gary and I weren’t paying as much as we should have on the bills.
Jeff was the only one with a good job. I was still work at the pallet shop only making a little over seven dollars an hour. Gary was doing sales and it was based on commission. He didn’t sell anything so there was no commission. The three of us were going our separate ways.
I had gotten an apartment back in my hometown. This is the first apartment I had since I had left Sidney. The day that I had paid the deposit and first month’s rent wasn’t a good day.
I had bought a bag of weed before I had gone to pay for the apartment. All that had gone well and then I took the forty minute drive back to Englewood. Ten minutes from Jeff’s house I had gotten pulled over.
I was still driving the tan 88 Cavalier that my mom had bought me. It was in my name, but I had never transferred the title or plates, and insurance. I had the car already for six months. The plates were off the blue dodge I had before.
It had started with only one officer. I had seen him turn on the road behind me. Then his lights had come on.
He had come up to the car and got my driver’s license. When he walked back to his cruiser, I got the bag of weed out of my pocket. I put the weed on the floor between the two front seats. I just put a shirt over it.
I had gotten it done just in time to watch three more cruisers show up. I was taking out of the car and searched.
“Your plates are registered to a blue Dodge,” the officer said.
He found my tape measure and things from work. Then I was stuck in the back of the police cruiser. The officer had gotten in the front seat.
“You got five minutes to give me a name and a number,” the officer said. “A number of someone who can come and pick you up or you’re going to jail.”
I only knew one person in Englewood and that w
as Jeff. I gave the number and prayed that Jeff would be home.
While I sat and waited to if Jeff was home, my car was being searched by another officer. I sat in the cruiser and watched the officer pick the shirt up. I knew that I was going to jail.
The officer got out of the cruiser and had gone up to the one who searched the car. I knew that I wasn’t going home. Then the same officer started searching the car again.
The shirt had gone up again for the second time. I was beyond freaky out. I had lost all hope of getting out of the police cruiser except to put on hand cuffs.
Jeff had finally shown up. I knew that they were going to tell him to go on home. I was positive that they would.
The officer had gone up and talked to Jeff. They didn’t send him away and they had let me out.
I had gotten into Jeff’s car. My hands were shaking. I wanted to get out of there.
“What do we do now?” Jeff asked. He looked confused. “Do they have to tell us to leave?”
“Go!” I said.
“I don’t know,” he said. “We probably should wait and see if they’re…”
“Go!” I said. He just looked at me. “There is weed in the car. Let’s go.”
He didn’t like the situation that I had put him in. We did go without waiting to hear anything else from the officers.
My car had gotten towed and it took a week to get it back. I had to pay to get it out of impound. I had walked up to the car and had seen the baggy sticking up through the window.
My bag of weed was still in the car. I went back to the house and poured the weed out of the table. I had to prove to Jeff that it was really in the car.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I finally got moved into my apartment. Some things were getting better. It felt good to have my own place.
I kept to myself and tried to stay out of trouble. I did drive for a few months not knowing that I had lost my license. I had a feeling that I might have lost them, but didn’t know for sure.
When I had gone to court for being pulled over, the judge didn’t say anything about my license being taken away. When the state had sent the letter, I had already moved. I was thankful that I had never gotten pulled over.
I did a lot of sitting around the apartment at first. I went to work and then home. I played guitar, games, and watched television.
There were a few girls that had come over. I played for a couple of them. They weren’t the right ones for me.
Doug Fields had come by one day. My dad had told him where I lived. He wanted to sell me a guitar. I thought it was a joke.
The white Spirit guitar was in pieces. There wasn’t even a bridge on the guitar. He was asking twenty-five dollars for it.
I didn’t know what I would do with it. I did think about sanding it down and repainting it. I didn’t like the white.
It had looked like it would have been a decent guitar if it was playable. I did by the guitar off of him. That was the last and only time Doug was at my apartment.
After a few months I did go visit my dad one night. I needed to get out of the apartment. I figured it be good to see how he was doing and have a couple of drinks.
He was still living in the same town and playing at the same bar. He was still with Lena and her kids. Things hadn’t changed for him.
I did miss going out to play. I missed the feeling from the blood flowing. The whole atmosphere of where we played.
The bar was still the same. All the same people were at the bar. It was a quiet night. It was like I had never stopped coming to the bar.
At first I just sat and listened. I didn’t know if I was in the mood to play or not. Then I sat in and followed a long on a couple of songs.
We sounded good for not playing together for a couple of months. I didn’t feel the same as it had used to. My dad seemed glad that I was there.
Afterwards I just sat and listened. My dad was drinking Jack and Coke as he played. I could tell that he was getting drunk.
I decided to leave. I didn’t want to be stuck taking my dad home. That is bad to say, but I couldn’t deal with his alcohol fueled attitude after he decided he was done for the night.
I drove home thinking that I should have at least played a couple of more songs with my dad. He could see that there were changes going on with me. I could see the changes going on with him.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I never got a lot of visitors. When someone has shown up, it was usually a surprise. Dylan and my dad had come over to the apartment one day. They both had been drinking.
They had said that they wanted to jam for a while. This was the first time anyone had ever come to my place to play. I honestly couldn’t believe it.
Dylan had brought a couple pieces of his drum set and my dad had brought his guitar. I played on my twelve string guitar.
We spent two hours just playing around. The sun was shining through the open windows. It was a good time for the three of us.
I seemed to have done most of the singing which was unusual. My dad usually was the main singer no matter where we were playing.
There was talk of getting the band back together. My dad talked me into it. He said that I had nothing better to do.
We would just start off with the three of us. Then we would see who else we could bring in. I knew that it meant that it was up to my dad who we brought in and he would go looking for the same people.
There was no happy feeling with the thought of playing again. I figured that it would end up going nowhere. I wanted to play music, but I was viewing my dad in a different way.
My dad was always pushing me to keep on playing. He said that it was good for me. At that time I would agree that playing music was good for me. I just didn’t know if playing music with my dad was good for me.
The band was playing more and we all got better. We were sounding better, but we still weren’t getting any places to play. Then they thought we were going to get our big chance.
Someone had found a Star Search audition. They were supposed to bring the show back and there were auditions at a motel in Richmond, Indiana.
At first some of us weren’t sure about it. Something just didn’t seem right about it. No one had heard about any talk of bringing their old show back. Then my dad talked everyone into it.
Everyone had started to make a big deal out of this. I had even got dressed up for the occasion. My brother and my niece had come to watch us play. We were all nervous.
Things didn’t get started off well for me. It really wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just one of those things that just happen.
While waiting to play, I was holding my niece who was still in diapers. I didn’t know that she was wet and had leaked.
When I sat her down, I found out the sleeve of my shirt was wet. I couldn’t do anything about it. I rolled up my sleeves and followed the others out to play.
We had played two songs. I wasn’t happy about the songs that they decided we would play. I had no say with anything that went on.
There was one song that was for Bill to sing. My dad wanted to sing a song that he wrote about spending thirty days in jail. I didn’t like the song. It was good for bar people who probably could relate, but not in a supposed audition.
People had seemed to like what we done. We did get a good reaction.
We left that night feeling good about what we had done. I didn’t think that we would hear back from them.
It didn’t seem like things were going anywhere with the band. We did keep practicing. Derby Days was coming up and we wanted to get ready for that.
We all seemed to be changing in our own little ways. Everyone wasn’t getting along in the band.
Some of us were starting to build up attitudes. I had issues about even playing with them. Then some drugs had come into play with Bill, which caused a meltdown at a practice.
We were practicing at Dylan’s hou
se. There was some tension building up.
My dad wanted everyone to be ready, but no one was. Nobody had been practicing at home. Then no one was taking the practice seriously. There had already been a lot of drinking between Bill and my dad before the practice even got started.
We all had decided to take a break. Something had caused Bill and I to have words with each other. Bill’s temper had gotten the best of him.
I had always had a little resentment towards Bill. My dad always treated him like he was something special. He even wanted to take Bill down to Tennessee.
My dad would tell Bill stories about how he had gone down and played at all the bars. He wanted to take Bill down and do the same. My dad had never mentioned anything about taking me down there.
Bill charged at me to tackle me, but my dad had stepped in front of me. He tackled my dad. They landed halfway on the couch. My dad had cracked a rib.
We had later found out that Bill had been doing some cocaine. My dad and Bill had made up. We were all still on to play.
I wasn’t happy about this. Once again I had no say about how things went with their band.
My dad had received a letter from Star Search. I couldn’t believe it myself. I had thought all of that had been put in the past.
It said that we had made it to the second audition. He also got a post card from a studio in Florida.
He thought things were looking up for the band. Nobody could leave their jobs and things to do what was required.
My dad was willing just to pick everything up and leave. It wouldn’t have been the first time that he had done it.
I had a hard time believing that all the stuff was real. There were just too many scams going on and it just didn’t sound legit.
There wasn’t one person had the money it would have taken to invest in the band. There was no way that we could have left the state.
We got to do a second Derby Days in the Beer Gardens. We still weren’t able to play on the stage set up in the main street. My dad tried to get us on the main stage, but no luck. He put his mind on the Beer Gardens.
My dad didn’t go out of shirts and picks this year. He still couldn’t get anyone else to agree to help out. I don’t see how he expected us to.
The shirts and things were just his idea. He didn’t ask everyone their opinions on things or how they look.