{"id":23892,"date":"2020-11-13T09:54:04","date_gmt":"2020-11-13T14:54:04","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.rocktownhall.com\/blogs\/?p=23892"},"modified":"2020-11-19T13:26:00","modified_gmt":"2020-11-19T18:26:00","slug":"hello-goodbye","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.rocktownhall.com\/blogs\/hello-goodbye\/","title":{"rendered":"Hello, Goodbye"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Hello: Meet the Vandals (Part I)<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Personnel<\/strong><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Furry Murray<\/strong>, also known as the Murray Man, nicknames courtesy Kevin Luhpotto, because he most probably didn\u2019t have the equipment upstairs to come up with anything better (just for the record, at age 8, Kevin introduced me to the whole concept of junking via a visit to a car graveyard where we found unopened flat top cans of Budweiser underneath the seats of an early ’60s Ford Falcon. Nice! After that find, we went back to his house where his mother served us pancakes drenched with Ms. Butterworth\u2019s syrup. Being a Log Cabin man, I couldn\u2019t take that, so I called my mom to pick me up asap. I mention all this to let you know that my picky dick credentials were already formed and firmly established)\/age 17\/plays varsity baseball\/musical equipment: Cortez Strat copy\/major influences: the Beach Boys, Bruce Springsteen, and Elvis Costello.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Furry’s Cortez Strat. (Photo courtesy of the Rock ‘n Roll Foyer of Fame.)<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Jo<\/strong>, also known as Jojo, nicknames courtesy me for no specific reasons whatsoever\/age 17\/plays varsity basketball\/known for his good looks and strut\/musical equipment: kick drum, kick pedal, snare, floor tom, and a 16-inch crash cymbal, manufacturer unknown\/major influences: the Gap Band and Styx.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

E. Pluribus Gergely<\/strong>, also known as Weed, sarcastic nickname courtesy Furry Murray (Why? Call me the cautious Paul McCartney of the power trio. I didn\u2019t want to waste my entry into the world of ganja via a keg party with a bunch of rednecks in a cornfield. I was looking forward to some arty kind of thing I thought might happen when I got to college)\/age 17\/ class clown\/musical equipment: Fender Duo Sonic guitar and Peavey Classic amplifier\/major influences: Beatles, Stones, and thanks to the Murray Man, Elvis Costello.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And let it be said that there would be no Vandals if there was no Elvis Costello.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Allow me to illustrate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Setting<\/strong>: Junior year at Boiling Spring High School, Boiling Springs PA, spring 1982.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

While making a pit stop at my locker where the stench is ungodly (within the locker are uneaten paper bag lunches piled under damp gym towels, books, papers, half assed completed projects for art, home economics, industrial arts, etc.), Murray comes up to me with two albums in his hand: Elvis Costello\u2019s My Aim is True<\/em> and This Year\u2019s Model<\/em>. Very unsettling. First off, Murray\u2019s a sports guy. Sports guys don\u2019t listen to that stuff. The Cars, Petty, the Greg Kihn Band\u2026that was all fine and dandy, but not Elvis Costello. Elvis Costello was punk rock. Second, Murray doesn\u2019t seem to care one whit about showing the albums to me, even though he\u2019s surrounded by his sports posse. \u201cWeed, ya gotta listen to \u2026\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

No way in hell was that going to happen. On the album covers, Costello looked not unlike one of the Sex Pistols, a group I heard about on late night news, who continually threatened the livelihoods of just about everyone in England. \u201cThat\u2019s really not for me.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHey man, I always listen to the stuff you give me to\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He had a point. \u201cAlright, alright, just give me the albums. I\u2019ll call you later tonight.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Up in my bedroom, around 9 at night or so, after a glass of wine and a chapter of The Case of the Drowning Duck<\/em>, by Erle Stanley Gardner (my taste for Perry Mason and booze happened around the same time), I give in, flop This Year\u2019s Model<\/em> on my Dual turntable, crank up the volume on my Pioneer receiver, and get walloped by the sound blasting out of my JBLs. (Money well spent from my first job washing dishes at Rillo\u2019s.) Jesus Christ Almighty! All it took was about 30 seconds of \u201cNo Action\u201d and I was ready to begin my new life as Costello\u2019s most devoted apostle. <\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

I call Murray up right away, and in the middle of me running my mouth, he asks me if I\u2019m interested in forming a band. Fuck yeah! He\u2019s already talked to Jo. The burnout Jo\u2019s sister had been dating left about half of a drum kit in her bedroom before he moved to Newville. \u201cWhat about a bass player?\u201d Sounded like that wasn\u2019t an issue.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Once a week, for about a month or so, we practice. Set list includes \u201cTwist and Shout,\u201d The Romantics\u2019 \u201cThat\u2019s What I Like About You,\u201d \u201cWipeout,\u201d an original called \u201cShe\u2019s So Groovy\u201d (Murray and I are convinced that the big time is right around the corner, if we can just fine tune the thing), Costello\u2019s \u201cYou Belong to Me,\u201d and half of \u201cPump it Up.\u201d That\u2019s right half of \u201cPump it Up,\u201d with no bass. I do the best I can with my mid-’60s Fender Duo Sonic, which constantly crackles or cuts out every time I turn the controls or fiddle with the switches, and the same can be said for the band\u2019s one overloaded amplifier, a Peavey Classic, which serves as the mouthpiece for our guitars and vocals. Alcohol tolerance is low, and that\u2019s good because it doesn\u2019t take too many 7-ounce pony bottles of Rolling Rock to lubricate all of us into thinking we\u2019re going to give local country rockers Appalachia a run for their money.  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Making a splash!<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Life is good. I\u2019m in a band. We do our best not to step on each other\u2019s toes.  Criticism is couched in compliments. We respect one another. Word is getting around. Girls are starting to take notice as well. Bring it on. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

We\u2019re scheduled to play our first gig, a party at Murray’s older sister\u2019s apartment. Even though Murray and Jo have spent most of the morning and afternoon recovering from hangovers resulting from nonstop drinking in celebration of the upcoming first day of fishing season, they are ready to rip when I meet up with them. Murray\u2019s sister\u2019s apartment is crammed with people, including some of our less straight-laced high school teachers. We\u2019re good. Damn good. Everything gels. Our repertoire is needy, to say the least, so we play each of the songs a couple of times and drag out \u201cTwist and Shout\u201d for about 20 minutes. We save the original for the end, and Jo manages to bring out the best in the song by inserting perfect fills in all the right places, something he never previously attempted. His shit-eating grin lets us know that he\u2019s feeling it. We encore with the song three or four times and spend the rest of the evening getting loaded and listening to everyone tell us how great we are. Fuck going to heaven and meeting God. All this is way better than that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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Definitely pre-CBS!<\/figcaption><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n\n

Goodbye: All Things Must Pass (Part II)<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

About a week after the party, we meet up to practice and plan our next moves. Jo\u2019s playing is half assed. Something\u2019s not right. After two or three attempts at a new original, Jo puts his hands on his knees and says, \u201cHey, you know what song\u2019s really cool? You know that Styx song \u201cToo Much Time on My Hands?\u201d I know that you guys aren\u2019t into it, but\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Right then and there, I knew that was the end. I\u2019d never have to worry about what would happen if I gave in to that request because no part of my being would ever have allowed myself to be a part of something so embarrassing. At that stage I was already a diehard Beatles fan and read and reread in multiple accounts about how they fought the release of the Mitch Murray penned \u201cHow Do You Do It\u201d as their first single. It would have been a betrayal to themselves and all their fans, especially those in Liverpool. Simply put, it wasn\u2019t going to happen and neither was \u201cToo Much Time on Our Hands.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A couple of years back, a good friend of mine asked me to come over to his place to check out his cover band. They were good. The practice ended with a discussion of some new songs to cover. The drummer suggested a Coldplay title. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

About a week or so later, I saw my buddy at the flea market and asked him how the band was doing. He told me they decided to call it quits.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

That a single song can be the straw that breaks the camel\u2019s back is mind blowing. Brethren, now it\u2019s your turn. My guess is that many of you have been through something similar. Share the story and the sorry-ass song that brought it all to an end.<\/p>\n