Reality is an illusion that occurs due to lack of alcohol. Give me a woman who loves beer and I will conquer the world.

When I left you, my dedicated readers last month, I was faced with an unexplainable dilemma. Here before me just inches away from the chicken wire mesh that surrounds the stage at the Longbranch, were the Ol Lady, Christi, Paula, and some other broad that I didn’t know sitting on barstools with beer bottles in their hands. As you will remember, the very night before I somehow accidentally or allegedly had a meaningful overnight relationship with Christi, and myself and the rest of the band were sure that the quartet of females had certainly approached the stage area to cause some sort of bodily harm to either all of us, or more particularly, just me. The air was thick with anticipation and uncertainty (not to mention cigarette smoke) for a very short period of time, which to all involved seemed like an eternity. That’s when it happened……

The four femme fatales jumped up on the bottom rungs of their stools and began hollering in unison, and almost in harmony “Craven … Sing us a song�? over and over again. This caused a reaction form the rest of the drunken crowd who were already way over the legal limit, and some of them joined in with “sing us a motherfu(#in something you bastards “ while several dozen others began the late night ritual of tossing empty longnecks at the chicken wire. As the shards of glass and backwash sprayed the stage and dance floor, the girls became agitated from the fallout. As we began a rendition of David Allen Coe’s “Finger Fu(#in Sally�? all hell broke loose! When the bottles, fists and teeth started flying, I observed the girls wield their respective stools at the combative patrons on the now cluttered dance floor. It was amazing! This was WAY beyond the mosh-pit action I have seen at the punk bars over in Ybor! As I continued to sing, I watched as drunken participants careened into neighboring tables, only to be finished off by other customers, and the approaching mob of bouncers. By the time the song ended the rowdies were dispatched, and the place was about half empty. Not to worry though, the girls had refilled their beers, and returned to their positions in front of the stage. I’m not sure whether this was lucky for me or not. I mean, they could have been ejected with the rest of the crowd, and I wouldn’t have had to deal with the wrath of the Ol Lady until sometime the next afternoon when I woke up. Or maybe not….

At last call we packed up our stuff and headed out the rear loading door of the saloon. I was wondering how I was going to get all my gear loaded up on the bagger when a pristine condition late 80’s custom van with a four wheel drive conversion roared up into the loading area behind the building. I watched as the heavily tinted window rolled down to reveal the Dolly Parton hairdoo chick in the driver’s seat, and Paula riding shotgun. “Hey Craven�? she shouted, “You need a ride?�? I quickly looked over at the bagger, and then back at my equipment, and then once again at the van. “Well, yeah, I suppose so, that is if you can haul me and all my shit�? I replied. “Sure thing honey, just throw all that stuff in the side door, and were outta here!�? I said “Yeah, OK�? and went around to open the door. When I slid the door open, much to my surprise I was greeted by the Ol Lady and Christi. Even more surprising was the appearance of the interior of the “van�? which looked more like a VIP room at a Gentleman’s club, or perhaps a rolling porn palace. I wasn’t sure, but I knew one thing…. There was some sort of conspiracy going on with these girls, and I was the subject of their plot. Feeling pretty good after a successful night of performing, and not intimidated by the weirdness of the situation, I tossed my gear in the door. “we’ll get this stuff�? Christi said as I watched her and the Ol lady store my amp and guitar case under the “bed�? in the back of the van. I remembered that I had to do something with my bike, so I rolled it inside the overhead door and into the storage area. I knew it would be safe inside this room, as I knew the owner and his staff, and in the past we had stored certain things overnight for each other. I went back to the van, and jumped in the side door. I was greeted with a cold Bud, and a snicker from the Ol Lady and Christi. Thinking that this may be the ride from hell, I said “Well, I guess you gals worked things out between yourselves�?. They sorta looked at each other and then at me, and Christi replied “Yeah, we kinda have something in common�? The Ol Lady chimed in with “You remember when you and me and Bob’s girls did that thing back at the trailer?�? Remember?? Hell, I’m still nursing a groin ache form that month! I don’t know what these girls are thinking. I mean, it’s like usually the Ol Lady gets pissed when I slip up and do something with some other girl. That is, unless she is involved! But for me, once again it was too late. I just sighed and leaned back as the van rolled on, and the girls removed my jeans. Poor ole naïve me, thinking that they just wanted to hear me sing. I suppose I should have been working for UPS, delivering oversize packages or something. I just don’t know…..

By the time I got back to the trailer, I seriously needed a shower and a few hours sleep. I didn’t really know if it was Sunday or Monday, and at this point in my life, I didn’t really care. I snubbed the girls as I retired to the “Master Suite�? in my mobile home and enlisted my mandatory relaxation requirement. When I awakened, I strolled out to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. I looked out the window and the long shadows cast on the lot told me that it was late afternoon. An hour or so later I went out to enjoy the last remaining rays of sunlight, and collect my thoughts. My neighbor Bill came out to the yard to rap, and after while I asked him if he would give me a ride out to the Longhorn to retrieve my bike. He agreed and we set out in his red Toyota Tundra.

It had been raining a lot here lately, and some of the lower areas were still somewhat flooded. It was getting dark as we rode down the main highway into town. The radio was blasting our favorite country station as we talked shit, and sipped beers. The main highway was (as usual) moving slowly, and Bill was getting annoyed by a slow moving Buick in our lane. As he pulled out to pass, the Buick slowed down and pulled off to the shoulder . As Bill looked back, we went into a flooded area on the road. I really don’t know how fast we were going but I do remember that the truck began hydroplaning and moments later we were upside down in a very large drainage ditch along the side of the road. As the cab of the truck filled with water, I struggled to escape through the passenger window. Luckily for both of us, the AC wasn’t working in the truck, and the windows were down. After fighting my way out of the window, I swam straight up and surfaced . As you ride down the road, you never even think of, or even realize how big these ditches are, that is until you end up swimming in one. This experience is especially striking when they are swelled to the max with runoff. I swam to the bank and began to climb up to the grass near the side of the road. I cussed as I slipped and fell back into the ditch. I finally climbed back out and sat down on the bank. “Gawdammit Bill, you alright�? I hollered toward the abyss. “Glub blub -spit- uhhh….Yeah, I’m Ok�? he replied. I helped him up out of the nasty-ass water, and we both looked at each other and laughed like hell! “Sheeit, my truck�? he yelled, and I thought for a moment, and hollered “Oh nooo…. What about the BEER??�?. We both looked at each other again, and dove back into the water to get the cooler. Later, we sat on the bank near the road sipping beer and watched as the tow truck driver used his winch to pull the severely damaged pickup from the deep. Of course Bill had to dive back into the canal to hook up the cable. Once loaded up, the seeping wreck provided a trail of water all the way to the bar. Because Bill had something called Triple A, the driver agreed to bring him back to the trailer park and dump off his deep-sea diving truck. I on the other hand had gained access to the bagger at the bar, and headed back down the highway to the same destination .

I pulled into the lot at the trailer, and got off the bike. Still soggy, I sloshed inside and began the task of removing my wet boots and clothes. I carefully checked to be sure that the girls were not planning yet another surprise attack, and got into the shower. Man it’s always something!

Later, Bill and I discussed the evenings happenings over a few cold beers by a nice warm fire. A hearty rumbling down the road soon revealed the approach of the very same van, and the very same occupants from the night before. Some day soon I suppose that I will rise above all this. Until then, I would like to leave you with a few very important thoughts:

The problem with the world is that everyone is a few drinks behind. Drinking provides a beautiful excuse to pursue the one activity that truly gives me pleasure - hooking up with hot girls and drinking more beer.
I feel sorry for people who don’t drink. When they wake up in the morning, that’s as good as they’re going to feel all day. People demand freedom of speech to make up for the freedom of thought which they avoid. What lies behind us and what lies before us, are only small matters compared to what lies within us. Sleep is an excellent way of listening to an opera. Moral indignation is jealousy with a halo. I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the great ordeal of meeting me is yet another matter. Victory goes to the player who makes the next-to-last mistake. A positive attitude will not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth the effort.

I can’t think of anything else, so until next month, SPEED SAFELY!!