Volume 8 – #3 – March 2005

Oh, what a wild, wicked and wonderful place this is. And I’m not just talking about Denton. I mean the world. You know, the place Jimi Hendrix referred to as “Third Stone From The Sun.” A TV show had a similar title about three decades later, but that’s neither here nor there. We all reside on a planet and we spend our time scooting about, creating important obligations, while the planet spins on its axis and flies around its energy source, the Sun, with faithful companion, the Moon, hovering diligently nearby. We take all of this for granted. Our only worries about the big machine seem to be an occasional wayward comet or asteroid or something we have inflicted on our own atmosphere. But, as the recent giant earthquakes and resulting tsunamis demonstrate, the unthinkable can happen. Nothing is permanent. And nature will take its course; sometimes in strange ways. For instance, everyone is all concerned, understandably, about today’s youth being, apparently, both drawn to and numb to violence. But, perhaps nature is just preparing them for future survival. Now that almost everyone has access to elaborate weaponry, it would seem logical that widespread destruction and chaos is just a matter of time and one will be better equipped to handle bombs and splattered blood and severed body parts and general mass hysteria if he’s already somewhat oblivious to it. The over-saturation of sensational imagery will ultimately be a good thing. Maybe a time is just around the corner when being too empathetic and sensitive to suffering will mean guaranteed annihilation. If I were a survivalist, I guess I would learn how to live in the woods or the swamps or a cave. A really inventive survivalist could learn how to live in a garbage dump or landfill and probably have the place to himself. But buying a bunch of survival gear would be really expensive and figuring out what to do and where to do it would be super time-consuming. I’ve often wondered about my own survival instinct. Although I’m a vegetarian, would I trap and eat the neighborhood dogs and cats if I was starving? I would probably try to cook the shrubs first, actually.

When I was a kid I bought a lot of singles (small vinyl phonograph discs that played at 45 revolutions per minute and had one song on side A and a different song on side B). My brother and I had more 45-rpm singles than any other kids in Texarkana. Friends would leave our house stunned. Later on, when albums became the thing, my desires exploded out of control, but that’s another story. With singles, the A-side was pushed to radio stations. The B-side didn’t matter at all. But, naively, I listened to both sides. Sometimes the A side was the “plug” side. On radio station copies you would often see the word “plug” printed on the record label. Sometimes the B-side was called the “flip” side. I didn’t care. Neil Sedaka and Bobby Vee sounded just as good on either side. As far as I was concerned, it was two songs for the price of one. This lack of the ability to discriminate would continue to haunt me, as I grew older.

Welcome to the BRAVE COMBO “BELIEVE IT OR NOT” DEPARTMENT. On April 12, 2005, a new show debuts on ESPN (the sports network), called BOWLING NIGHT. I’m not one to recommend sports programming to anyone, but (1) it IS bowling and (2) you might want to check out the fabulous theme song. However, since the show is a Disney production, one line might have to be changed. Boy, Janet Jackson and her idiot friend, Justin, sure messed up a lot of stuff for a lot of people. We continue down such an unpredictable path, it’s almost scary.

I received a call from Denton Mayor, Euline Brock, recently. She informed me that the Denton Chamber of Commerce would like to bestow on Brave Combo their highest honor, the Otis L. Fowler Award. I don’t know what to say. I guess we’re considered ambassadors of goodwill for Denton. That’s cool. This has always been our home. We’ve never seriously considered moving away. It’s an unusual environment; a strange, but oddly compatible marriage of small-town quaint and socially progressive. And I believe there is a unique energy here because of that contrast. As I’ve said many times, Denton has allowed us to be our quirky selves and has provided us with a home, full of friends and fans that care about us and want us to succeed, because they claim us as their own. It’s a great thing. We’re more than happy to announce, whether we’re on stage in Chicago or New York City or Lincoln, Nebraska, “We’re Brave Combo from Denton, Texas!” The audience almost always cheers like crazy. I’ve learned that if you yell at the audience loudly enough, they’ll usually respond.

BIG NEWS. I have something to report that won’t surprise some of you and will shock others of you to the core. Bubba Hernandez is taking an indefinite hiatus from Brave Combo this summer and, depending on what happens, he may or may not come back. He wants to try some new things with different musicians for a change. As I understand it, he has a couple of projects in the works, including a new “jam” band with some friends from Houston and he mentioned possibly playing bass in a country band. Mitch Marine, our one-time drummer, is deep in the country thing now, playing with Dwight Yoakum, and he sometimes knows who needs musicians. Anyway, Bubba will continue to perform with us until early June. At that time, he will either start playing part time with Brave Combo or just leave altogether while he focuses on new priorities. Consider this a warning. If you want to see Bubba on stage with us, you better catch a show before June 10. Come out and ask him what he’s thinking. Of course, we wish him the best and want him to be happy and feel fulfilled, musically.

OUT WITH OLD, IN WITH THE OLD. Although things are somewhat shaky in the low end of Brave Combo, we’re really psyched about Tim Walsh, our original saxophonist/clarinetist, coming back. The three-horn tower of polka power (Jeff, Danny and Tim) will be an unbeatable force. Wait till you hear it. It’s new. It’s fresh. And, by the way, Tim’s return has nothing to do with Bubba’s exit. It’s just another weird BC coincidence, like the time we broke down on the way to play a party near Kerrville and a mechanic, who knew how to work on our engine, just happened to pull into the space beside us as we coasted to a stalled stop in a Wal-Mart parking lot. He had us back on the road in less than an hour. Unfortunately, we still didn’t make it to the party because high water, from daylong rains, flooded the roads between them and us. Come to think of it, we’re still not on good terms with those people. That’s too bad.

Speaking of the Donut (our old van/bus thing that we retired a couple of years ago as it’s original engine died at just under 300,000 miles). Since we had started flying to so many performances, the idea of a new gas-guzzler to haul us around Texas just didn’t make sense. Anyway, we sold it to our mechanic and we learned last week that he fixed it up and sold it to a guy that hauls people in it from the Denton area to the casinos near Shreveport, Louisiana. Once again, I’m speechless. Wow. A lot of stuff went on in that funky metal box. Maybe I’ll take the casino trip someday. I wonder how often they stop for snacks.

Our new CD, HOLIDAYS, will appear sometime, in some form, this year; I predict, by early autumn. I don’t even remember what some of the songs sound like. Cool. I can’t wait to hear it when it’s released.

Okay, that’s enough news and views for this month. I hope I didn’t overload you with information. And even if I did, you have a right to know. So, armed with the knowledge that you now possess, come out and dance or listen. As it said on the label of a potato chip package I once bought in Tokyo, “Let’s all get together and have a good time.” Peace, brothers and sisters.