Mary arrives during all this fag talk with a couple of friends. One lovely I remember is the girl I frenched at Sorrento’s. Robby notices them and yells,”Hey Mary, which of your friends is ready to service Tim?”
“Asshole,” Mary spits back.
“Is that her real name?”
“Shut up.” The two new girls are giggling. The night picks up.
I lean over to Jace who’s bending down to unplug, “Hey, watch me pick up these girls.”
We walk over. I smile and get a big smile and a smaller one from the girl I had not kissed

“You girls wanna sing backup with Mary?”
“We sing every weekend with her at Church “
“My, church going girls.” Jace remarks.
“Not afraid of putting on some uplifting outfit and getting down with the band. What’s your name, sugar?” I ask the girl who likes me.
“I’m Flo, and she’s Edi.”
“Well, you get with Mary and decide which songs y’all can sing together. We’ll play some hymns to make you more relaxed.”
I turn to Jace. We play ‘Amazing Grace’ really slow.

Mary comes over and says they want to do the ‘doo ron ron’ song. I tell the guys. We jump back to the 60s.

The three of them sing like angels. I feel like Ray Charles with his Rayettes.

“Okay. You’re now the Jacettes, but this show is at a frat house. We’re playing metal. We want you to come and work with Mary. Just enjoy the show. That’s really the best thing you can do for us. We’re planning a holiday party for Michael’s friend where we’ll do all dance music. That’s when you gotta be ready to step up.”

They jump up and down, with Mary joining in. Funny how in their go-go boots, they make the smallest, littlest jumps.
“So we’re getting done here. Maybe if you smile real nice for Michael’s dad, he may take us out for pizza.”
I run over to Michael, asking if his dad wants to get pizza.
“He said to order in.”
“But they won’t deliver beer.”
“I think that’s the point.”
“Well, see those two girls with Mary. They want to be our backup singers, too. He may change his mind. See if he wants to come too. “
“That’s sick.”
“You might just learn something about the charm you’ll need at Jenna’s party. He may have moves of his own.”

As hoped for, we go for pizza and beer. The girls are relaxed. We stay cool. I’m thinking Jace may have moves of his own. At the restaurant, I sit between Mary and Flo. Jace is between Flo and Edi. Also cramming in the booth are Michael, his dad, and Hippie Greg. Their half of the booth is not nearly as crowded as ours.
I ask about their church, families, and friends. Flo whispers in my ear, “You’re not wearing any underwear?” Her hand was right where my comfortable dick lays.
Michael pipes up, “No fair having secrets in this band. What did you whisper?” to Flo.
She looks at me for approval, so I just laugh.
“I told him I know he’s not wearing any underwear.”
“Okay, ready to go,” Mr Antonio starts to get up.
Michael pulls him back, “It’s okay, Dad. That’s better than what he usually wears.”
Mike’s dad sinks back into the booth. The pizza arrives with mas cervezas.

Mary comes up at Nutrition and quizzes Jace and me on her friends’ girlfriend potential.
“I like that they’re Latinas. Chicas bonitas.” I answer.
“I dunno what to say to them.” Jace as always is honest.
They pass the audition and are there for rehearsal. Edi proves a bit much for Jace, but he seems to enjoy her chattering away at him. It can be Spanish for all he cares.
My Latina, I call Forward Flo, is amenable to my wiles. She wants to know all about Tina. When I tell her how virginal she is at fourteen, Flo likes I can respect a girl’s wishes.
Later that night, Jace and I sit in the window. We laugh about chasing girls together. He asks, so I tell him how it was with Scott and me chasing girls. He tells me he wants me there for his first time with a girl.
“You mean a three-way?”
“Yeah, or a four-way; that’s best.”
So I break my ‘no kiss and tell rule’ and relate to Jace about the Ann sisters in North Carolina.
“Four-way is best, but let’s just go for it. I won’t do it unless you’re there, Tim” He really is sincere. Then he asks, “Have you ever had an orgy?”
I punch him and say, “Of course. That’s what everybody gets on their sixteenth birthday?”
Now, I confused him. He isn’t sixteen until March.

The frat gig is on Friday night. Hippie Greg uses his mom’s station wagon to move the equipment over to the University.  It takes two trips to get all the amps and drums there, where we lock it up. We scope-out the performance space. It is bigger than Pete’s house, but not by much. There is no stage, just six-inch risers at the front of the room. With barely enough room for all the equipment, it means we will not be able to move around. We decide to put the two drum kits and amps on the risers, with the backup vocals to the left and Hippie Greg on the right side; the microphone is at floor level, where Jace and I will play and sing. We plan to keep this space clear by moving around a lot. We leave for our Sorrento’s pizza and beer fix, getting back around eight o’clock. The frat boys are set up to collect admission fees from non-members, at $10 a head, including beer. I tell Dave and Jazz to keep an eye on the door and try to get a running total of how much they collect. We pull the equipment out of the storage room and set up. For a sound check, we play Bowie’s Space Oddity:

‘Ground Control to Major Tom
Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills and put your helmet on
Ground Control to Major Tom (Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six)
Commencing countdown, engines on (Five, Four, Three)
Check ignition and may God’s love be with you (Two, One, Liftoff)….
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you “Here am I floating round my tin can’

Songwriters: DAVID BOWIE
© T.R.O. INC.

I repeat the ‘Can you hear..” until everyone is in synch. I tune Hippie Greg’s bass and give him a pep talk.
“You don’t need to worry. If you screw up, just dampen your strings while I do the rhythm part. You can come in when you’re ready.”
“I don’t want everyone to know that I’ve fucked up.”
“No one will know. Everyone will be listening to Jace. Keep a straight face and pretend you’re still playing. I’ll key you to come in.”

I also turn his amp down so low you barely hear it. A work in progress.

We gather in the storage area. I look at everybody. We plan to do Glitter rock first. We look like science nerds in black ties and suits. You cannot see that we are also shoeless. We plan to take off the jackets and shirts as soon as it gets hot on stage. Iggy is the exception. He insists in full makeup, no shirt, and tight jeans. He is excited to be the provocateur of our show. Where are Wilkie and Jill? I have planned this elaborate sendoff to end the show. What if they do not come. What the fuck, the show goes on. The drummers, bass, and back up vocalists take their places. Jace starts with the guitar intro. I hide behind Robby and softly start singing:

“Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills and put your helmet on
Ground Control to Major Tom (Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six)
Commencing countdown, engines on (Five, Four, Three)
Check ignition and may God’s love be with you (Two, One, Liftoff):”

I jump out front with Jace, walking back and forth as I sing. I rip my shirt off   at the line about ‘the shirt you wear…. Tell my wife I love her very much.’ Jace chimes with “She knows.” He ends sitting on the riser, singing the last stanza, “Here am I floating round my tin can….”
The crowd jams into the room, trying to see us. I am still looking for David and Jill in the crowd.
Next we do ‘Telegram Sam.’

“Telegram Sam
He’s my main man…”

Songwriters
HEPPNER, PETER / REINHARDT, MARKUS
Published by
Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., SPIRIT MUSIC GROUP

Jace and I sing ‘You’re my main man’ to each other. The girls up front get that dreamy look seeing us sing to each other.

Then we jump into Mott the Hopple’s ‘All the Young Dudes.’

I start walking back and forth, yelling out lyrics and calling out the glitter boys. Michael starts the drums to Gary Glitter’s Rock n Roll part 2, Jace does his guitar intro, and I come in a couple of bars later: “Rock n roll, hey. Rock n Roll, hey..” The crowd starts to sing along with us.

• Songwriters: GLITTER, GARY / LEANDER, MIKE
  © Universal Music Publishing Group

“Hey, Miami. We are rock n roll. Anybody wanna hear heavy metal?”
Jace starts ‘Paranoid.’ The double drums thunder.

People are pushing to get up front. I let my head bob to the throbbing beat, pushing back the crowd by grabbing the mic stand and swinging it as I sing. Half the room is filled with kids going crazy. The other half is where everyone else hides. We jump into Deep Purple’s ‘Smoke on the Water,’ which slows things down.

Looking out as I play rhythm, I see Wilkie and Jill. At the end of the song, I wave them to come up and stand with the backup singers. They have big grins that tell me they like the show. We do Jimmy Page’s ‘Dazed and Confused’ long guitar solo.

(Writer(s): James Patrick, Jake Holmes Copyright: Flames Of Albion Music Inc., MCA Music Publishing A.D.O. Universal)

Hippie Greg always gets lost on this long song, so I have to play the rhythm and sing. I scream out lyrics, while Jace keeps stringing out the leads. Next we do Zeppelin’s ‘Stairway to Heaven, with the girls vamping it up on their backups.

I put my guitar down, stand by Jace, and we rip into ‘Whole Lotta Love:

‘I’m gonna give you my love,

I’m gonna give you my love,

Wanna Whole Lotta Love, Wanna Whole Lotta Love, Wanna Whole Lotta Love, Wanna Whole Lotta Love.”

Writer(s): Robert Plant, John Bonham, Gene Pitney, John Paul Jones, James Patrick

Copyright: Unichappell Music Inc., Flames Of Albion Music Inc.

Jace is cranking it, while I sing, leaning back to back to him. At the end, we go back to the Yardbirds’ ‘I am A Man,’ I’m a man, I spell M A N, man..’ staring right at Jace.

Ellas McDaniel (1955)
(c) Arc Music Corp. (BMI)

Jace rips the leads as I strut back and forth with the mic stand keeping our space intact. I look right at Iggy and give him a nod. He starts yelling, “American rock. Play American rock.”
I egg him on, “This is an English show, you dumb cracker.”
He pushes forward, while yelling that we suck. He will show us real rock n roll. When he gets to the front of the crowd, he tries to grab the mic, but I push him away. He lunges at me and I fall back, while he grabs the mic from me. He yells into the mic, “Now yer gonna hear real rock n roll.” He turns to the drummers and Hippie Greg and yells “Search and Destroy.’
Turning back to the crowd, he counts, “One,two,three,four.”

‘I am a world’s forgotten boy; The one who searches and destroys….. And honey I’m the world’s forgotten boy The one who’s searchin’, searchin’ to destroy, Forgotten boy, forgotten boy, Forgotten boy said hey forgotten boy’

Writer(s): Iggy Pop, James Osterberg, James Williamson, James Robert Williamson
Copyright: Strait James Music, Bug Music, James Osterberg Music

People are cheering. Some are jeering. A big frat boy tries to take the mic from Iggy. While they are wrestling I grab it off the floor, yelling, “Okay, Alpha Sig, you rock. We’re gonna take a break and be back after some beer. Who wants to gimme a beer?”
The frat boy is wailing on Iggy. We all jump in and pull the jock away, so Iggy can escape. That ends his singing career, at least for the night.
I thank the jock and run over to Jill and Wilkie.
“How’dcha like them apples?”
“What just happened? First I think you’re getting beat up by that greaser, then he’s getting beat up, and finally you save your tormentor from your defender.”
“Yeah, all’s in a night’s work.”
“Pretty violent,” Jill remarks, which was my cue.
“”Okay, we’ll do love songs to calm everyone.” I look at David, “How about singing a song with us.”
“Not happening, mate. I do not know a single song.”
“I bet you’re wrong.”
“I bet I’m a wanker at singing.”
“If we start a song that you know and I motion to you, will you come up and sing with me?”
“I’m not singing some stupid nursery rhyme.”
“Pure rock.”
“So what song is it?”
“It’ll be totally English. If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise. It will be our last song. If you do a good job, you may get an encore. I’ve got the best song for you two. So Jill, stay close to him tonight.”
She blinks. I think I see a tear at my last remark.

The crowd has settled down. The big jock says he is our bouncer and is standing right in front. I tell him I am going to ask a couple to come up and sing with us at the end. I point out Wilkie and Jill.

I jump in front as the band takes their places.
“Okay. We settled that little dispute. All English. All the time. So, how about y’all try dancin’ to the Stones.”
Jace cranks his amp to max power. I howl the lyrics to ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash’:

“I was born in a cross-fire hurricane
And I howled at my ma in the driving rain
But it’s all right now, in fact, it’s a gas
But it’s all right, I’m jumping Jack flash
It’s a gas, gas, gas…”

Songwriters
JAGGER, MICK / RICHARDS, KEITH
Published by
Lyrics © ABKCO Music Inc.

When I finish, I yell out, “Where’s that guy that who looks like Iggy Pop?”
Iggy is still licking his wounds.
“Well, this song’s for you,” as we rip into ‘Street Fighting Man.”

“How about we cool it down with a few love songs.”

We play the Stones’ ‘Angie.’

Next, more Stones with ‘Honky Tonk Women,’

‘Start me Up,’

“Let’s spend the Night Together,” which I sing to Jace.

and “You Can’t Always get What You Want.’

The room is alive with everyone moving and grooving. I motion to Wilkie and Jill to come up. Our bouncer friend lets them through
“Quiet,” I yell.

When the din lowers some, I speak out. “I’ve been hanging round the university for a while. I’m not smart enough for college, but I have made some friends. This show, with one interruption, has been all English. My Scot friend David Wilkie, star of the swimming team, is going off to London tomorrow, so as a send-off, we’re all going to sing the one song all Brits know.”

Michael and Robby both do drum rolls, Jace cranks the chords slowly. Wilkie gives me the meanest look but then smiles, and in sweet, high tenor voice sings, “God save our gracious Queen, Long live our noble Queen, God save the Queen: Send her victorious, Happy and glorious, Long to reign over us…..God save the Queen.” Once he starts singing, half the people in the room sing along. There’s a sustained cheer at the end.
“You want more?’ I ask to a big roar. I turn to David, “You’re not done yet. Here’s your song for Jill.”

I play Queen’s ‘Someone to love.’ Jace sings backups.David grabs Jill in a strong embrace, as they sway together.

I turn around and mouth Beatles to everyone and pull Jill up in front of the microphone. David and I wait for Jace to do his intro and then sing to Jill, “‘(Love, love, love)

(Love, love, love)
(Love, love, love)
There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done
Nothing you can sing that can’t be sung……
Love is all you need.”
Songwriters
LENNON, JOHN / MCCARTNEY, PAUL
Published by
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Leave it to the Beatles to get everyone singing. The whole room is singing to Jill. Jace sees I am about to cry and runs over to me as I sing, adding his own licks which he plays right at my crotch, which is so weird, I stop needing to cry. When the song ends Wilkie and Jill hug. I join in and get a kiss from Jill and a stiff upper lip from David.
I turn my attention back to the crowd. “How about a proper Brit sendoff for David? ‘We are the Champions.’ One, two, three, four”:

“I’ve paid my dues, time after time…
We are the champions my friends
And we’ll keep on fighting till the end
We are the champions
We are the champions
No time for losers
‘Cause we are the champions

Of the world”

Songwriter: Freddy Mercury
Copyright: Queen Music Limited

The crowd decides to pick up Wilkie and Jill, carrying them over their heads around the room. Jace comes over and puts his arm around my shoulder. We are done. We’re thoroughly soaked. Our shirts are in tatters, with all the buttons ripped off. I thank him for stopping me from crying. He calls me a sentimental fool. I give him the goofy grin, which he mirrors back.

Dave, Jazz and John are breaking down the equipment. Michael and Robby were arguing about something. Once the crowd surfing by David and Jill is done, a bunch of girls surround us, with their boyfriends looking uncomfortable. The girls are asking leading questions about girlfriends. I tell them Jace is going out with Edi one of the vocalists and I have a girlfriend in New York. Then Jace announces, “Yeah, we have girlfriends and all, but Tim’s my main squeeze.”
“You’re gay?” several girls gasp.
“Gay and straight. What’s that called?”
One of the boyfriends pipes up, “Degenerates.”
“Yup, that’s us. I even sleep with my dog.”
“Gross.”
“Can’t help it that they all loves me,” Jace proclaims.
Most of the girls (with boyfriends) leave. A couple say we are cute and they do not care if we are degenerates. Mary, Flo, & Edi come up, looking like they want to leave. I look over to where Hippie Greg is sitting and tell the girls I will catch up.
“What’s wrong, Hippie?” I ask.
“I screwed up so many times tonight. You want me to quit the band?”
“What? I didn’t notice any screw ups.”
“Half the time I wasn’t playing.”
“Well, you did a good job then. Nobody knew. Your job is to look cool and help out the guitars.”
“You guys don’t need help. It was rockin’ tonight.”
“Now you want to quit?”
“I expect to get fired.”
“The only one who thinks you can’t play is Mr. Antonio, and he has no say in the matter. Buck up, buckaroo. Let’s get pizza.”
He give me the goofy smile.  Since we covered so many Stones songs, maybe we can have a logo like the sticky lips, but instead, the goofy grin. We find Dave, asking him what he thought the door took in. He says he counted 250 people who paid. Then I go and find the frat guy who we dealt with setting up. He says he had already paid the guy who got us the gig – $200.
“But what about the door?” I ask. “We figure you took in $2000. We’re to get a cut of that.”
“That’s not our agreement. It was a flat $200..”
“Look this is going to play out one of two ways. You either give us $500 as a 25% share of the door, or, see that guy over there (pointing at Mr. Antonio). He’s our Italian lawyer. You will not like what it will cost you if you have to deal with him. You might want to consider what kind of party you can have when there’s no liquor or anything else the Italians control in Miami.”
He gives Mr. Antonio an intense scrutiny. Then reaches into the door receipts and counts out $500.
“Thank you. Good doing business with you,” and I leave.

Michael’s dad corners me, asking why the frat boy was giving him the evil eye.
“Oh, I just needed a little backup in case they wanted to stiff us on the door.”
He smiles. We go for pizza. At the table, he hands everyone forty bucks as their share of the frat fee. I then give him the $500 as a first payment on the equipment he paid for. I think his eyes may pop out.
“Tim, I’m the backup, but I’m not into extortion.”
“That’s just 25% of the door. He wanted to stiff us for it.”
“How did you know what the door receipts were?
“Dave was counting how many people paid to get in.”
“Who taught you how to be a tough negotiator?”
“This band is all I really have going for myself. Same for everybody but Michael. Also, my cousin Joey lives in Manhattan. Everything has a price there.”
He gives me a big smile, not a goofy grin, “Well, it’s Christmas. I’ll take $250 and the rest of you get fifty each.”
Michael asked, “Has Mr. Lombardi agreed to a party for Jenna?”
“It’s set for the Tuesday, New Year’s Eve.”
Michael is beaming. His dad looks a tad nervous about setting up his teenage son with his friend’s fourteen-year-old daughter. What could happen?

Next: https://timatswim.com/2-blog-08-out-n-about/