We are there as insurance in case someone cancels but understudies at our age? Sure enough, someone’s kid dies and we take the stage. So happy to be here everybody! I notice a tough blonde chick checking us out from the wings. She sneers and reports back to her English mates who have never sold out to anybody anywhere. Their leader lives in Chicago now and supposedly has a dick bigger than Dillinger and a fat mamacita to put it into... I’m jealous all around. After our set, the blind genius plays. We ask the drummer how he got the gig? “Same size suit...” Of course… Great stories to tell the grandkids, but really little else. It was better with the Dudens, playing shitty little bars and having a ball. The love is gone and it sure ain’t the business’ fault. That much was fine. Money is a very good reason for most everything. Don’t let anyone tell you different, they’re lying. So what’s left? For me, nothing much, find some sanity maybe. Billy still has a shot at something if he can survive the present. He made me promise a long time ago that I would never allow him to be buried with his guitar. That’s probably what saved him... You have to understand the lie before you can embrace the truth.
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