Street Find Ch. 09

Bud was always quick on the uptake and almost right away he was into the well-known intro. Doreen, Al, and I followed, with Rollie right up front on the Yamaha. We didn't mess with Lynryd Skynyrd's arrangement. We stuck with his original version. That got the audience off our back. While I was singing, I saw Stan madly looking through his briefcase, assumedly for more suggestions. Stan was a pack-rat and I was sure he had the play lists from last week. If we could get through to the first break without too much grief, we should be able to set up the second and third pretty quickly. We'd rehearsed everything we used so many times that we didn't need any more than the song title to get us going.

We got to the first break and Stan had already ticked off a play list for the second set. He'd written them down and gave them to me. Apparently, I'd been appointed leader pro-tem. I must have missed a meeting or something. We huddled as we got some refreshments and went over Stan's list. There was no problem and I taped the list to the back of my bass. Stan was busy giving out copies of it to the others. Almost everyone had a lead-in of one kind or another, so they had to know the order of things.

We got through that night on our quickly revised play list and laughed as we packed up our instruments for the night. It wasn't our most professional show ever, but the audience liked it and that's what mattered. We'd be much better prepared tomorrow night.

~*~

Sometimes things happen that tempt you to get off the sidelines and get involved in what's happening. The first was a worrisome problem that Fran brought to our attention. Olivia was being harassed by one of her supervisors at the pharmacy. It wasn't overt, but it was certainly bothering Olivia. The supervisor had somehow either guessed or been told of Olivia's sexual orientation. He was making her life very uncomfortable and she wasn't sure what to do about it. Fran came to Gina and me for advice.

"Has she spoken to the manager about it?" I asked.

"No ... she's worried that since it's her year of residency that it might affect her getting accredited. She could get a bad review and have to start over."

"Fran, there are laws against harassment, you know that," I said. "She has to file a formal complaint and then let the law take its course. They are a big chain and they certainly don't need the publicity of a lawsuit. She can't lose her job without it costing the corporation a lot of money and bad publicity. She has to trust the system."

"So, she should just go ahead and file the complaint?"

"Look, I'm not a lawyer and I won't pretend I know all the good and bad that could come from this. I think you should talk to your Dad and Eleanor about this, Fran. He's been an employer and he must know who to talk to. Let me know what he says, okay?"

"Yeah ... okay," she said, still with a worried look.

I didn't want to just brush them off, but I wasn't in any position to give advice and the best thing for Olivia to do was talk to someone who would know what the law was ... or would know how to find out.

A day later, I heard from Fran.

"The manager said he didn't want to do anything about it and she'd better not file a complaint or she'd be given an unsatisfactory review and let go," Fran said, clearly upset.

"So what happens next?" I asked.

"Dad is going to contact his lawyer and get some advice. It may be as simple as a letter to the company. At least, that's what we are hoping."

I was pleased that they were getting Arden involved in their lives. I was hoping that would be another path to their reconciliation.

Fran called the next day to let me know they had contacted a lawyer, a Mr. Warren Siddel.

"You were right, Ed," Fran said. "Mr. Siddel said it was an open and shut case. He dictated a letter to his secretary right there and had Olivia sign it with him. It noted the state act and sections that the store manager had violated and told them he would be filing a formal complaint with the court and their head office. He said that would get their attention in a hurry. Olivia and I feel so much better, Ed. I have you and Daddy to thank for your help."

"Hey, I didn't do anything. Your Dad did all the leg work. Tell him how happy you are," I said.

"Yes, of course. We'll let you know how it turns out, Ed," Fran said. "Dad jumped right in to help Olivia. I'm really proud of him."

"I'm very happy to hear that," I said, "and I'm anxious to hear how it all comes out."

~*~

Fran, Olivia, Gina and I all spent the next Sunday at Eleanor and Arden's home. They were no longer pretending to just be landlord and tenant, or even good friends. I could see they were committed to each other. Eleanor reminded me of my grandmother in a lot of ways. She was a very giving and loving woman and it was the very thing that Arden needed. It was what had been missing in his life, probably for more years than he realized. We were all happy for them, and while they couldn't marry unless Arden did something about his current marriage, it didn't seem to be that important to them.

More importantly, both Fran and Gina had genuinely reconnected with their father. They realized he was in an untenable situation with their mother. While he might have been more supportive of the daughters near the end, he was anxious to make amends for his weakness, and in the spirit of good will, the daughters had forgiven him.

~*~

The young man who was helping Doreen with the T-shirt sales turned out to be her son from a previous failed marriage. Douglas Knechtel was a twenty-three year-old strapping young man who worked with his father in construction. Doreen wasn't able to care for him after the divorce, so he went to live with his father who raised him. What surprised me was that the father insisted Douglas get to know his mother and stay in touch with her. The father had never remarried, but Doreen offered no explanation for that. Douglas was a nice young guy and seemed to respect Stan as well. It was a puzzle that made me wonder just what had happened over twenty years earlier.

~*~

Olivia and Fran dropped by to see us on Wednesday evening the following week. Olivia's problem had been resolved in a very satisfactory way. She had a letter of apology from the head office of the pharmacy, a transfer to a new location that would assist her to complete her residency, a nice check in five figures to help with the emotional pain, and the promise of a permanent job when her residency was complete. She had a lot of good things to say about Arden and his help with a worrisome situation. She heard from one of her co-workers that both her supervisor and the store manager had been replaced. All in all, a proper resolution to a very unhappy episode.

~*~

I wasn't a technophobe, but I wasn't very hip to the new age electronic gismos. My cell phone was a phone, first and foremost. I seldom used it as a camera or a recording device. I sure as hell didn't watch movies on it. I wasn't on Facebook and I hadn't watched YouTube unless I wanted to see some music videos that might give us some ideas for future numbers. But Gina, Fran, Olivia and, it turned out, Rollie, were regular users of those features on their phones. And now, there was something called Twitter, and I had no idea what it was about. To be honest, I didn't care, either. I left it to Gina to keep me in the loop if anything affected us. I was too busy working on our music and thinking about our future, both for Gina and me, as well as the band.

When we finished with the dinner dishes one evening the week after Olivia's problem was solved, Gina came to me with a concerned look.

"Have a look at this, Ed," she said, handing me her iPhone.

I glanced at the type on the screen, wading through the various confusing marks and code. What I saw was, @studbuddy25 hi gina remember me and the #rough sex in the back of my pickup?

I turned to her, mystified by the message. "What is it?"

"It's the guy who got me pregnant," she said, looking at me carefully. "I didn't think he wanted to see me ever again," she sighed.

"What do you think he wants?"

"I don't know. I think I'll just ignore it," she said, turning off the phone.

"Okay. Do you think he might be trying to get in touch with you?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I don't want to talk to him. He's in my past, and it isn't a fond memory."

"I guess not," I agreed. "Okay, let me know if he bothers you again."

She didn't have long to wait. There was another tweet (her name for it) an hour later.

@studbuddy25 gina I saw you on stage nice act we should get it on again #tweetme

"This looks a little more threatening," I said when she showed it to me. "Can you block his tweets?"

"I guess so. I don't want to acknowledge him."

"Why not just use text messaging?" I suggested.

"This is where a lot of celebrities are hearing from their fans," she explained, not looking very enthusiastic about text messaging.

What is the name of this guy?" I asked.

"Peter Fast," she said, making a face. "He was a big deal in high school. Big football and baseball star. He was a year ahead of me when we started going out. We were together after he got out of school and got a job. He was hoping for an athletic scholarship, but it didn't happen. His grades were crap and he didn't have a very good reputation. He went to work for a construction company, but I don't remember the name of it."

I couldn't relate to this Twitter idea in any real sense. It wasn't part of my daily communications and I couldn't see any benefit to using it. Gina apparently felt differently. I didn't know who to call to get some advice, so I turned to the Internet and looked up what information I could find on Twitter. I must be dumb. I couldn't figure out why this was better than text messaging or actually talking to someone. My instinct was to advise her to cancel the account and see if this guy tried to contact her in some other fashion.

Gina did as I originally suggested, blocking studbuddy25, and that seemed to put a stop to the problem.

~*~

In early October, we were invited to do a Friday night bash at EWU in their big auditorium. We were the featured act and we needed a good hour of music, broken into two or three sections, we guessed. We had no problem putting a full act together and we were hoping this would be the first of a number of college gigs that might come our way. We hadn't yet signed with an agent, but Doreen was interviewing a number of them, hoping to find one we could trust to do right by us.

We didn't have to guess what our audience wanted. College kids want action and that's what we programmed. We split our time into three sessions, with a five-to-ten minute break about the twenty minute mark. It didn't take long to get the house rocking and, as usual, the band responded in kind.

We'd been saving the first song that Olivia and Fran had written for the last session, and last on the program. The girls had included Gina, me, Al, and Doreen on the lyrics and Frozen Sister was definitely a rockin' tune. I was pretty confident that it would go over well. I certainly hoped so for the sake of the girls. I wanted them to have success and be inspired to keep writing.

It was a great night. We had followed two mediocre garage bands that I guessed might possibly be students at the university. I felt bad for them, because the difference was huge in polish and delivery. As we got to the end of the final session, it became my job to introduce the group's first original song. I held out on giving them the name until the last second when I introduced Olivia from the wings and Fran from the stage and announced the number.

Olivia had sure fooled me. Her quiet nature and soft-spoken voice led me to believe that her poetry background would tend to produce slower, softer music. That couldn't have been further from the truth. She was a closet rocker, right to the core. As the band hit our new signature song, she was clapping her hands and dancing in the wings to the beat. I had a good look at her and saw a very happy and satisfied face. Good for her.

The audience gave us a huge round of applause, complete with whistles and hoots and hollers for more. I turned to Doreen, who was the sergeant-major of our gang and she nodded. There was only one tune we hadn't yet done and that was "Red Neck Woman." Bud and I started on the guitar and the rest of the gang picked it up right on cue. The auditorium was shaking with stomping feet and the sounds of the audience singing the chorus as we pointed to them. They were here for a good time and we gave it to them.

It was pretty warm in the big room that evening, but nothing like it had been outdoors during the summer. Nonetheless, we were sitting behind the stage, taking on water and other fluids before packing up and heading out. Gina was sitting beside me, chatting with Olivia when she was approached by someone I didn't recognize. She looked up and I saw a look of fear for the first time.

"Wha ... what do you want, Pete?" she stammered.

"Hey," he said arrogantly, "is that any way to greet your old boyfriend? And what's with blocking me? How dare you? You owe me, Gina."

"Pete, we have nothing to discuss," Gina said nervously. "It's over ... it has been for a long time."

I had a good look at Peter Fast. He was a big guy, alright. Probably six-two or so and maybe back in high school, a fit two-twenty. But he was no longer that same guy. He'd put on forty or fifty pounds, I'd guessed, and not in the right places.

"That's in the past, Pete," Gina said, backing away from his advance. "I'm getting married soon. I've moved on from back then."

"Have you told him about us?" he asked.

"Yes ... everything, Pete. No secrets," she said, glancing toward me. She was beginning to get her confidence back and was trying to defuse the tension.

"This him?" he asked, pointing at me.

"Yes," she answered without any elaboration.

"Doesn't look like much," he sneered as I began to rise.

I thought for a moment he was going to do something stupid. I was no fighter. Never had been. But I wasn't going to let him act like he could say and do whatever he wanted. I could feel the hackles rise on the back of my neck.

"I don't think she really wants to see you, Pete," I said, looking him square in the eye.

I might be a couple of inches shorter than him, and quite a few pounds lighter, but I wasn't going to back down.

"I'm talking to Gina, not you, asshole," he smirked. "I'll let you know when it's your turn."

"Your turn is up, Pete. Leave. You're trespassing."

"Like you could make me?" he laughed derisively.

I was about to say something in response when a voice from behind me added, "I'm sure I could convince you, pal."

It was Thad, and he was an imposing figure. A couple of inches again taller than Pete, and just as heavy, but in all the right places. I knew he was a dedicated workout guy. Pete should not consider messing with Thad.

Peter Fast had a good look at Thad and then me and decided he wasn't going to test his luck. He slowly backed off, scowling his displeasure.

"We don't want to see you around here again, pal," Thad said. "We'd consider that a provocation. Did you go to school long enough to know what a provocation is?"

I almost snorted in derision, but managed not to push it. Pete was obviously having second thoughts. Gina had come to my side, and I put my arm around her protectively.

"Stay away from Gina," I warned. "She important to all of us, not just me. You'd regret causing her any problems."

I could tell Pete's streak of bravery ended when it looked like it wasn't going to be an easy victory. He slunk off the stage without a backward glance or another word. I could tell by the hunch of his shoulders he wasn't feeling very brave. I was confident that we would not hear from Peter Fast again.

"You've had an interesting past," I said and I held Gina tightly to me.

She looked at me, her face flushed and clearly embarrassed.

~*~

Thad was a country boy at heart. He hailed from western Montana and had come to Washington State on a music scholarship for violin. Go figure. He completed his bachelors, but knew concert violin was not his calling. He'd joined a loosely-knit country band while he was in school, earning some sorely needed extra money. He'd kicked around from one band to another after graduation until Stan took him on with the understanding he'd play bass and violin as required. Thad was fine with that, and when I came along with the two girls, supported him on the bass, and changed the sound of the band, Thad was a happy man.

He was very protective of the girls. It was no surprise to anyone when he intervened with Pete. He may have been soft-spoken, but there was no question that he was tough when he needed to be. He'd been brought up on a ranch, and it seemed almost incomprehensible that this big hulking cowboy could handle a violin with the grace and touch of a master. To the girls, he was a big, soft, teddy bear. To the rest of us, he was an integral part of our band, and a great guy as well.

~*~

I don't know how Gina discovered my birthday. Of course, since we were sleeping in the same bed and our clothes were in the same closet, she could easily have checked my driver's license. We were at the Palomar again, one day before my actual birthday on November 4th. It was getting near the end of our last set when Gina stepped up to my microphone and announced that tomorrow was my twenty-seventh birthday. That got a big round of applause and I waved in thanks. But that wasn't all.

"You folks can't know just how much Ed has changed this band. I wasn't here when it was the Stan Foxwell Band, but just about when I came along, this big galoot was busy trying new things and helping us make new music. What you hear today has been what Ed started and the rest of us jumped on board with. In fact, I was so impressed that I decided to marry the guy."

That got another big reaction and I waved my appreciation, holding Gina's hand aloft.

"Just for this occasion, I want to sing a song to my future husband, the man I love."

With that, she picked up the Gibson, strummed a couple of chords and stepped up to her microphone. The audience had gone completely quiet as she began and within a few bars, they must have recognized the tune. It was Alison Kraus's When You Say Nothing At All.

She must have let the band in on the secret because Thad's violin was prominent along with Rollie's keyboards and Bud's soft guitar. Al covered my base line and Doreen was pretty much just brushes on the drums. The song was beautiful and Gina gave it all the love she could. I was damn near in tears. I just stood there like a statue and listened. The audience was almost completely silent and that just made it that much more haunting.

When she finished, she came to me and we hugged and kissed, a lot of emotion on both our parts. That was as good a birthday present as I was ever going to get. We stood there, holding each other as the audience saluted Gina and me. I had a wonderful warm feeling that I had won the hand of the most beautiful and talented young woman in the land.

~*~

Stan was back in business and that freed up Doreen to complete her hunt for an agent. She decided to syndicate the risk and have her main candidates meet us and tell us what their thoughts were for us. That was probably unusual, but since we'd never had an agent, we didn't know any better. Personally, thought it was a hell of a good idea.

We interviewed three candidates and then discussed which of the three we felt most comfortable with. The consensus was that Lyndon Bale was our best choice. He presented himself well, he dressed well, but not flashy, he spoke well, but not with a lot of hype. He didn't promise us overnight riches and fame. He told us that just as we'd checked his background, he'd checked ours and he liked what he heard and saw. We were still rising and had a nice, solid future ahead of us in whichever direction we chose to go.