Sunday, April 24, 2005

Feelin' Lucky... Punk?

I was barely 16 when I first got my drivers license.
I remember zipping all over the side streets of my small town, watching out for the police car (there was only one in town) and wondering if he would notice me.
He did.
Officer McRoberts pulled me over right down town. He said that he had noticed me zipping all over the side streets of our small town and asked me if I could afford a speeding ticket.
Silly me, I said, "I don't know. How much are they?"
It was later that I realized that he may not have meant "afford" in the monetary sense.
He just told me to watch my speed and let me go.
I felt noticed.
Fast forward eight years...
There is a knock on my door. I open it to see McRoberts standing there. Or rather, a slightly more disheveled version of the former Officer McRoberts. He said that he had heard that I played guitar and sang and was wondering if I would consider playing in his country band.
Rewind a month or two...
The father of a close friend of mine had a country band, and as a hoot one night, I sat in with them to sing some harmonies on a couple songs.
I assumed that McRoberts had heard about me through them.
I thanked him for the offer and explained that I had other things going on.
(Primarily, punk and heavy metal)
At least I got noticed.
I could have said, "See here copper, you'll never make me sing!"
But in retrospect, I suppose,
I should have said...
"Can You Afford Me...Punk?"

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Dandy,

This is a great story, it captures what life was like in Mancelona. I forgot that there was only one cop car in town. If you were 16 I was probably like 9 or 10.

Mark