The circumstances under which I met Don were less than ideal to say the least. Kris and I moved in together just before Thanksgiving in 2012 and Thanksgiving is when I met Don for the first time. Like all guys whose object of affection is another mans daughter, I was a bit nervous. I shouldn't have been. It didn't last very long. Don only knew about me what Kris had told him. When he came to the house that Thanksgiving, there were no real introductions. Don acted like we had always known each other and the next thing you know we were out in the garage getting tools and working on things he wanted to get done. I think he was gauging my value as a man by my ability to use tools and solve problems. Don knew nothing about me, other than his daughter was happy, and that was all that mattered to him. As it turned out, we have quite a bit in common, Don & I, in our way of thinking and doing things. Don was a proud man, but not afraid to admit that age had slowed him down a bit. It was always a pleasure for me to do some little thing for him that he could have done himself, that he just didn't need to do. I was pretty proud every time I'd do something and he'd say "that's the way I'd do it!" Perhaps Don's similarities with me were more similarities with my father and perhaps that's why we got along so well and had a mutual respect for each other. He was always happy to see me and almost always said "Heeeyyy Scotty!" It always made me smile. Men will not call men by childhood nicknames unless there is a great deal of respect involved. We're weird like that. Papa Don was a very unique individual. In the end, Alzheimer's had taken a bunch of his memories, but was kind enough to allow them to return from time to time. When I met Don it was already starting. His wife & daughters knew. They saw the forgetfulness and everything that came with it, but it was comparatively mild in the beginning. Don knew it too. Also like me, Don was a practical joker. So while his family worried about his failing memory and his occasional slips and falls, Don would pretend to be worse than he was. He would act completely serious like he had no clue what someone was talking about. Then he'd look at me, smile and wink. I don't know how many times I told Kris that Don was playing with them. And he most assuredly was, much of the time. In the past nine months Don's condition worsened and his failing memory was more real and less acting for reaction. He really got a kick out of making a joke out of this thing he didn't understand. I'm not sure anyone but me actually saw that he was screwing around. Nobody else saw him smile & wink after saying something a little out there. I think he knew the seriousness of the situation, even though he didn't know then what it was. When the jokes about losing it stopped, Don really started to forget. There were days he didn't know his wife or daughters. He had no idea when to eat, sleep or go to the bathroom because in his mind the clocks were just spinning in circles. Sometimes backwards. 6:00AM, now 3:00AM, now 10:00AM. He would yell at people, call them names and generally be pretty mean spirited. Which was not Don. Which made it excruciating for his family that loves him. Then he'd snap back and be ok. Then people would be trying to poison him. He wanted his guns. There were strange men in black suits milling about. He became threatening and was capable of weak attempts at violence and had to be put in a place that could handle his ever changing mood swings, paranoia and slipping lucidity. I believe scientifically that the reason Don never forgot me or who I was is directly related to the fact that I was the last new person to become a regular part of his life. Even when Kris said he didn't know her and called her "that girl", I could walk in and he'd say "Heeeyyy Scotty!". It felt kind of odd being the one person he could remember all the time. But it was nice too. Kind of like that smile & wink. He was ok, but he wasn't. The first time I went to see him at the nursing home, he was in the dining room with his new friends. The first thing he did was introduce "my son-in-law, Scotty". Don didn't care about marriage certificates. It damn near made me cry when he did that. While Alzheimer's was stealing his 84 years of memories, while 84 years had weakened his heart to barely operating, Don continued being Don when he could. Having known about the smile and wink, I knew Don was initially aware of what was going on. Could his life and memory have been extended had he acknowledged these things and asked for help earlier on? We'll never know. Whether he was too proud to acknowledge it or whether he believed there would be no choice in the end, Don chose to just keep doing the best he could. In hindsight it becomes obvious how long and how hard he fought losing himself. I have been blessed with many a great man in my life and Don is certainly a top shelf keeper in my world. The pride and love he had for his family just knocked me out. Sure, Don was also a man. Human, flawed, issues like the rest of us. Also like the rest of us, the inherent good far outweighs any character flaws Don might have had. When Kris would come home from seeing him, in tears because he had yelled at her, called her names or determined she was working with the enemy, all I could think and say was "that's not your Dad. He would be mortified if he knew he had done that". Don on his worst day would not do that to his family. Kris learned when to let go and not pay attention. She found the courage to leave him to nap when she could see he was stuck in anger and hostility. She learned it was more important to remember her Dad than Donny, the guy who sometimes didn't remember his little girl. The last conversation I had with Don was the only one that Don was not Don. He was always himself with me except that last time. He told me about the people watching him. There was somebody in room 7 that was bad news. Of course there was no room number 7. He was shutting down then and two days later he passed with his daughters Kris and Sue at his side, holding him close. The last 48 hours of Don's life were the hardest for his daughters who watched as he struggled to let go. Today, while I'm grateful Don found his way, it still seems unreal that I will never walk into a room and see Don napping only to awake and say "Heeyyy Scotty!". Hey Donny! Thanks for everything! I sure would have loved to meet you earlier in life and tackled more projects together, but I'm endlessly grateful for the time we did get. That wink and smile will remain with me. Always.   If you haven't read the rest of my band stories yet, go read them first and come back. I'll wait. Just click Music over there on the left of your screen. After reading of my experience in a few bands (there are a couple more that I haven't written about yet) the title of this story will make sense. For the past 5+ years I have had the honor and joy of playing and making music with an unlikely trio that I can say without exception has been the high point of my music career. Indeed this experience surpasses even my days as a full time bass player with Michael Murphy & The MOB. It started back in 2009 when, while my head was still shaking from The 10-2-1 Experience, I found that the desire to play again was still boogying right along. I didn't want any old band to play in. I wanted to go back to what I know, what I'm good at, what I love: Blues and classic blues derived rock with a hint of jazz & Motown in mix. Headed over to Craigslist I did. Came across an ad from a guy that was looking to test the waters and see if he could put together a blues band. Of course I responded. And Fate said "thank you". Turns out that Mark hadn't played in many years either, for many of the same reasons. So we talked and decided we'd see if any drummers responded to Mark's ad and we'd see what happened. Some time went by, Mark and I both had business on the table, but a couple months later he had found a drummer! We arranged to meet at Mark's house and just jam and see how it went. Jamming did ensue. Well, Fate wouldn't have said "thank you" if it wasn't going to go good! Mark and I gelled easily due to our love of a lot of the same music, and the drummer was great! We practiced together a few times and the drummer was really more into country and things and decided to go back to his old band. Mark & I were on our own until Pete's name was given to Mark. Then Gideon's Radio came together like Mark and I were originally looking for. Well, that's not exactly true. There were two more drummers. They were both very good drummers but they both had issues. The one that was best just lived too far away. The other one, let's just say he had too many issues for me to remember honestly. What I do remember was I LOVED the way he counted off a song! "One, two, three, GO!" Oh, and a singer/keyboardist/sax player. He was a decent singer, ok keyboardist and a great sax player. He preferred them in the opposite order of his talents. He also liked to drink up to a twelve pack during a three hour practice. Then there was that female singer! She could sing! She could also drink wine and she also thought Mark ( a long happily married man) was REALLY cute. Something about talking about music in the moonlight under a tree got the best of her and she decided she really needed to kiss Mark on the cheek. That wasn't why she got fired. Mark is pretty easy going and laughed it off. It was going to be hard to have a singer who would most likely be laying on the floor by the end of the night.
Did I mention Mark is an easy going guy? Everything about the guy says the last thing he would ever want to do is hurt someone's feelings. But, he not only made the calls, he shouldered the decision himself. And did have to have a couple of chance encounters. Then along came Pete.
 John also played a mean keyboard and could blow a harmonica like nobodies business. After practice when Pete & John had left, Mark and I sat around in his driveway talking. Finally we have a band. Mark and I were excited. A few practices and we think we're ready to test the waters. Pete gets us a short set with a bunch of other bands playing a Christmas party. We were really excited. Well, except Mark who was really nervous instead. We ramped up the practice schedule a bit. John missed a couple because of this reason or that. No biggy. December 3rd 2010 rolls around and it's show time! We're the second or third band on the bill. We've got our families and friends in attendance. We're ready to show off what we've been working on! The first band plays. We talk. Mark paces and tells us how nervous he is. We wait for John. Apparently John had a business trip a few days prior and had to fly to Colorado. He was supposed to be back in plenty of time. I see you think you see where this is going. Shut up & let me tell the story. Sorry I blew up. So we wait, and we pace and we make phone calls. There's no way we can NOT play when we're there and all these people, many specifically there to see us, are waiting for us. And waiting they are because, we have no singer and it's our turn. We set up embarrassingly slowly trying to kill time. Somebody comes and tells us that John's girlfriend called and he would not be attending the evenings festivities as he was stuck in the airport in Colorado due to a blizzard going on. There's no doubt there was a blizzard going on. We were getting it too. In fact, I drove home 60 miles at 30 miles per hour that night. Now what? We've proven our resiliency in tough situations many times over the years, but this was the first time. We rationally decided to have each of us pick which songs on the set list we thought we could sing. We quickly scribbled names on our set lists so we knew who'd be singing what. We had a plan. Jamming did ensue. We start almost every show with a Stevie Ray Vaughan instrumental. Why? 1.) It's cool. 2.) It helps get the body warmed up for the physicality that comes with passionate music making. 3.) Because of doing it at our first show. 4.) It gives the audience a second to warm up to us which then allows Mark's nervousness a moment to subside. Yes, Mark is nervous before every show no matter what. Except when he says "Surprisingly fellas, I'm not feeling very nervous" and then gets nervous because he just realized he wasn't nervous! Mark and I also share a neurotic nature- Pete on the other hand is cool as a cucumber about anything and everything. For instance; if Pete's drums got stolen from his car before set up here's how Pete would respond: "Well, that's crap. I'll have to call the insurance company Monday. Ok, um, I can probably use that big tub there for a bass drum. I'll need something to hold it in place because I'll have to actually kick it. Some beer pitchers will make decent toms. Grab me some of those Mardi Gras beads and a milk jug and that'll take care of the snare. For cymbals..." Yeah, you can't really phase Pete at all. Up on that tiny stage, Pete sang the first song which was the great Buddy Guy tune "Mary Ann". Mark and I took our turns. And we nailed it. Dead to the floor. Nobody had a clue that wasn't the show they were supposed to see. As we were taking our stuff down, guys in the bands playing next were telling us that they didn't want to follow what we just did. THAT was cool. I mean to have other musicians actually tell you that is rare. Funny thing is, ever since, we have always preferred opening slots. Because we know we're going to make it hard for the next band!. So, show is a success! We plan to regroup for practice the following Monday. We do. John comes, apologizes, explains the situation away (other than the part about not letting us know some time before we were supposed to go on stage!). We schedule the next practice. I had to work late so I arrived late and John was not there yet and he lived only a few blocks away. We talked and decided right then that John was out and we would not look for another singer. We could do this ourselves. Do it we did. We now have probably over 100 songs that we can play with one or the other of us singing. We've been together for over 5 years and have never had an argument, not even a disagreement over song choices. Each one of us plays songs we don't really like or like to play because somebody in the band does like it or it's something an audience will like. We're a band in the classic romantic sense that non-musicians believe a band is. Which is rarely ever reality. We're bandmates and we're friends. Not like we're friends with our other friends. Sort of like that but different. I now live 70 miles away from Mark & Pete and all three of us travel in different circles outside of the band. However, we in this band have known more and shared more of the ups and downs and gains and loses in life than we have probably shared with our regular friends. I said we were an unlikely trio and we are. While we're in the same age range and grew up at the same time, and listened to mostly the same music growing up, we come from three very different backgrounds. Yet, we have the time of our lives when we're together. We've developed a relationship of mutual respect and complete "as is" acceptance of each other. Not to brag, but, the world could learn a little something from this band. Then there's the music! We play together like it ain't nobodies bidness. We're probably the second tightest band I've ever heard. There was a band we opened for called Loomis. They were so tight there were creases in the freaking air and I sh*t you not. 98% of the stuff we play is stuff we love and love playing. The other two percent is the stuff you play just for the audience. Before we did it, none of us would have probably thought "Tub-Thumping" was a song we wanted to play. Audiences love it and now, we love closing our shows with it. We play and feed off of each other. In the past five years, each of us have become far better musicians than we were before we met. Together we wrote and recorded an album of 11 songs that are as varied as our influences. It's called "Solid State" if you're interested. When that album was completed (yes! You CAN buy it on I-Tunes, Amazon, Rhapsody and wherever fine digital music is sold!) when I listened to it the first time I was impressed. The songs are good, the recording is excellent and it is a true representation of this band. Except that on the album Mark does all the singing. We thought for the sake of continuity on the album it would be better to have one voice represent us and his is quite frankly, the best of the three. The other thing that happened was I knocked myself out. Not literally of course, but I listened intently to myself and I was just amazed at the bass player I had become over the years. More than once I asked myself "did I really come up with that?". More than once I wondered "did Mark overdub my crap?" Of course I know he didn't. That's me on that record. Many musicians I've played with have pushed me further, but none even close to these guys. I think the three of us actually try to get better solely to impress each other so we can have more fun doing it! Because that's really what this band is about. Making that music that we love together and having fun doing it. We're just as happy practicing in Mark's basement as we are on the stage of Famous Dave's Blues Club. We're just as happy to play for a fundraiser as to play for a venue that puts money in our pockets. We have played so many benefits and fundraisers. A lot of bands don't like lugging their gear and playing for free and it's some times hard for these things to get good bands because of it. For us it's a chance to play for people and none of us mind helping out where we can. I'll admit at one point there had gotten to be so many that it was getting frustrating to be the go to band if you needed guys who'd donate their time, but we never said no to a single fundraiser or benefit unless we already had something booked at the time. We've shared so many stages, so many memories, so many stories, so many personal triumphs and tragedies, that we have ingrained ourselves in the fabric of each others lives. What the hell more could you want from being a member of a band? Perhaps that redemption? Redemption: deliverance, rescue. Atonement. Gideon's Radio delivered me from a life devoid of the music I love to play. It rescued me from settling for playing music I didn't want to play in bands I didn't want to play in. Atonement? Let's break that down: at-one-ment. Gideon's Radio led me to being at one with the musical passion within me. It made every bad band, every High & Mighty Mike (NOT MIchael!), every DipStick Dave, every note for note English guy with a superiority complex worth it. Gideon's Radio has also been a huge part of helping me become at one with myself. Mark and Pete's complete and total acceptance of me exactly as I am has helped me offer myself that same acceptance. I am a better, broader, happier person because of my membership in this band. What this band has done for me musically and personally is beyond anything I ever imagined a band could be. By far. A lawyer, a political right hand man and Harley salesman walk into a bar...  |
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