------------------------------------ Note   9   New Years 
               *** A Story by Dr. Gra"per ***
 
         1/4/79   2:12 pm     lynch / udplato / unidel
        The last gig (job) our band did was really the
pits, man.  It is definitely the last.
        It was New Years Eve, and we had been called to
work at this guy's house for $10 apiece.  At least that was
what I thought we were getting.
        Well, we play from about 9:30 up to 11:59, then at
12:00 midnight we launch into a Rock version of "Auld Lang
Syne."  Really funky, huh?  I felt like was gonna puke, what
with all these high school teen queens and jocks, all 
friends of my brother and the other guys in the band.  Then,
at 12:03, the drum player goes, "Now, how about our pay."
Then he gets his girlfriend to pass a hat around this 
massive pile of drunken humans, asking for money.  It then
dawned on me that this____ was the way we were going to be paid!
Good Jesus Christing Yow!  I had assembled my thousands of
dollars of extremely expensive keyboards, practiced and
set up all for this?
        We play some jazzy progression trash for about ten
minutes and then his girlfriend comes back, yelling at the
 
---------------------------------------- Response 1 of 3
               *** A Story by Dr. Gra"per ***
 
         1/4/79   2:17 pm     lynch / udplato / unidel
people who are all too drunken to be too useful.  "Dammit,
they just don't appreciate how much a band is worth," she
said, throwing the hat on the floor.
        The drum player got really angry and yelled at the
people something about how we were getting screwed and they
were getting a band for nothing, then went to the telephone
at the guy's house and called someplace.  My brother (lead
guitar and vocals) was so drunk on Southern Comfort Whiskey
that he was grasping the bosoms of an admittedly attractive,
equally drunk female.  The bass player just stood where he
was, just as drunk as everyone else.
        I was not drunk since I no longer drink at parties
of more that five people (a damn good rule, take it from me)
and I sat on my swivel seat feeling bad.  People were still
there, standing around, a bit ashamed about not paying 
money into the hat.  Feeling as wonderfully sober as I did,
I took this hiatus to be my personal solo spot. The folks
there enjoyed it, and began giving me a bunch of requests
 
 
 
---------------------------------------- Response 2 of 3
               *** A Story by Dr. Gra"per ***
 
         1/4/79   2:20 pm     lynch / udplato / unidel
none of which I knew, so I decided to entertain them with
comedy.
        The drum player came bursting out then, saying
"Come on, we're going to play someplace else now."  
        I didn't want to go.  It was 1:11 in the morning,
and far too late to take down travel and set up and then
take down again.
        He got really angry at that.  I was feeling a bit 
peeved myself, and told him that that was it.  I didn't want
to play with the band anymore.  Then he really got pissed,
and an argument ensued that was very silly.  He was drunk 
and his wit was about as sharp as a bowling ball, and I was
too sober  and so on and so on and everyone else in the band
got really pissed off at me and left me there with all those
people.
        So, for the next two hours I entertained them with
amusing snappy patter.  They were very funny; they just sat
there staring at my head like a television.  I felt
very happy.  A few people stopped by who had seen my per-
formance in their psychology class last year, and they were
 
---------------------------------------- Response 3 of 3
               *** A Story by Dr. Gra"per ***
 
         1/4/79   2:20 pm     lynch / udplato / unidel
very nice.  
        But now, oh dear.  
 
        Your Friend,
        Dr. Graper