The drama department designed the stage. A large open area in the middle, a raised platform for the horns on the left, and one on the right for the chamber quartet. Twenty three musicians, three drum sets, four keyboard stations, five guitarists, three basses, fifty nine microphones, a mountain of amps and sound equipment, part or all being in use at the same time. Twenty three ear buds so we could monitor ourselves and get stage directions. It was a sound technician’s nightmare.
We had three guys for lighting, two for sound, two stage managers and five stage hands. Add to that the videographers, and it could definitely get crowded. We were gonna have a ball.
I watched her leave, thinking about the Smilin’ Wiley comment.
When everyone got together to format the benefit a lot of ideas were tossed around. It was a concert as much as a performance, and one of the drama students suggested we emulate the orchestras of the forties and fifties. We also had too many individuals and groups to list, so we had to come up with a name. They chose it, not me.
The stage guys even built stands with the initials S W O running down the front, and the O was a smiley face with the lips and tongue from the old Stones logo.
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I took the Mach 1 away from Sammi, saying while they were changing oil they discovered some engine problems, and it may have to be rebuilt again. It was bullshit of course. I had hidden it in one of my empty garage units.
She wasn’t a complete idiot and knew something was wrong, assuming I was pissed at her over the car. She was trying her best to make up.
I left her to her own devices on transportation. She was catching rides with coworkers, and even slick hair picked her up a time or two. There was an attempt to get me to help her car shop, but I told her I didn’t have time.
Just before I left she asked me point blank what was wrong. I just told her I was dealing with a lot of stress trying to make the benefit a success, and I had recently discovered that someone I trusted had let me down unexpectedly.
She looked a little guilty. I told her it was a musician problem and she let it go.
I had been plotting revenge. Cruel, nasty, over the top punishment. But as I thought about it I decided the best way to handle it was musically. It was what I did, who I was. All I had to do was hold on for two more weeks. Besides, an old man once told me getting revenge is a lot like wrestling with a pig. You both get covered in mud and shit, and the pig likes it.
But it was still gonna be cruel and nasty.
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During this time my friendship with Freddie started to grow. He actually called me two weeks after the festival to ask about one of the songs we had done, he was thinking about covering it for his next album, and he wanted to use our arrangement.
He asked how I thought it would work, and I hesitated. He heard it right away.
“Please, Wiley, I have enough yes men. Tell me the truth.”
So I did.
“The song won’t be a good fit for you Freddie, but there are a couple more from the same artist that would. Have you listened to much of his stuff?”
He said he hadn’t but would look his work up. We talked a few more minutes and he had a request.
“You seem to have an almost encyclopedic knowledge of music. Try and think up some stuff you think would work for me. I’m open to anything.”
I had a few I’d already thought of, but I waited awhile before sharing them.
Thanks to Freddie, Two Thirds Irish had fifteen seconds of fame. He had crews taping his performances, and they had captured his rendition of ‘Flirtin’ With Disaster. Of course, it turned up almost instantly on his Facebook, website, and Youtube. It made us look good, although Jim and I were just side players, the camera played to Freddie and Moira. It never hurts to have a hot babe in your video.
The pictures Crystal had taken of us at lunch and in the river showed up on his website. He insisted on Facebook it was just lunch with old friends during the festival, but there were a few shots of Moira in her one piece splashing Freddie, and the magazines got hold of it and talked up romance.
It got even more improbable when Freddie said on Facebook, not that he wouldn’t like to date her, but she was just a friend, and besides, she was married. To me. Apparently he had seen the newspaper article. It took a little while to straighten that one up. Jim told me her husband was actually pissed.
“Want me to talk to him and clear it up?”
I guess he didn’t have a very high opinion of his brother in law.
“Fuck him. It’s the most attention he’s paid to her in a couple of years. Maybe it’ll do them both some good.”
I repeated my offer to Moira, but she said to forget it, she had already cleared it up.
The argument over the playlists were getting out of hand. I finally stepped in and told them to focus on what this was for and get over themselves. But, I tried to get most of them placated.
Freddie was working on his new record and lining up a new band. His last group were ultimate professionals, but they treated it like a job, and didn’t invest any emotion at all. This makes for a pretty boring live show.
He called and asked if he could come by, his buddy was looking for a guitar and understood I might have what he was looking for. I flipped when he came through the door.
I knew who he was instantly but didn’t comment. I just plugged the guitar up and handed it to him.
He had a small smile on his face as he started playing. Freddie just grinned at me, nodding at a case.
I flipped it open and he grabbed my 125, strumming happily. I just went with the flow and grabbed my Fender Mustang bass. We must have played fifteen minutes before anyone wanted to stop.
I had asked Freddie, so when he said yes I called Jim and Moira and told them it was life or death, get their asses over here now.
TA, as he liked to be called, was a nice guy. He wanted the guitar bad, a Gretcsh Chet Adkins Country Gentleman, autographed by Chet Adkins personally. Money was nothing to him, but I still gave him a good deal. After all, when he loomed over you at 6’5″, long hair falling into his face and talking in that deep rumbling voice, it made you want to be agreeable.
We all took pictures of each other, and he really liked Moira. If I didn’t know he was desperately in love with his wife, I would have been jealous. Maybe I still was, just a bit.
I think he noticed it and said something to Freddie. He just grinned at me and said something back. TA seemed surprised, looked at me like I was an idiot, and said something back to Freddie.
Don’t you hate it when you know someone is talking about you?
“Wal, you’re all here, might as well play something.”