Volume 8 – #7 – July 2005

Myron Floren, accordion genius and Lawrence Welk’s former right hand man, passed away recently at age 85. Brave Combo had the pleasure of performing with him twice. He was a brilliant musician, of course, but also appeared to be a kind and respectful guy. One of the best recordings of the “Laughing Polka” I ever heard is on his album, DISCO POLKA. Thanks, Myron.

It feels like the earth is spinning dangerously close to the sun. Someone said the temperature was 188 in Phoenix the other day. And then it started to snow. What a mysterious land Arizona is. It’s a state, you know, with the Grand Canyon to the north and saguaro cacti to the south. But, listen, it’s hot everywhere, at least everywhere Brave Combo is playing. Summer is the hottest time of the year. Have you noticed? I heard that there’s a big hole in the ozone layer above Hawaii and that, combined with the particularly salty water, can really burn your bare skin. Thank God I have the sense to cover my body with aluminum foil when I go swimming. Speaking of common sense, I noticed in the exciting new SKY MALL catalog that cute little doggie tennis shoes are available now. And they cost as much as human tennis shoes (of course, dogs usually need four) and they’re primarily for dogs that have to take their daily walks on hot inner city sidewalks. Why, all the well-dressed pit bulls are wearing them. But that’s not the point. I’m trying to tell you that it’s hot. I wonder what’s happening on Mercury (closest planet to the sun) right now. Since there’s no atmosphere, it doesn’t matter, I guess. Venus has a super dense atmosphere. Sometimes thinking about “this very moment” can really freak me out. Stuff is happening right now all over the universe. A little boy in a wheelchair came to two of our shows recently. Maybe he had cerebral palsy. I watched him dance and have fun with his mother. I have since, with not much effort, zipped to another part of the country and knocked-out many little tasks. I imagine the minutes of his day have been quite different. I’m sure he and his parents have struggled with the smallest things that most of us accomplish without noticing. It’s late now. Maybe he’s asleep. Sleep is a great equalizer, isn’t it? I see livestock, primarily cows and chickens being transported to their death in trucks up and down the highway. Usually the cows look worried and the chickens just look miserable. When Brave Combo exits for a comfort stop or to get a snack, the condemned continue on their way, most likely to a horrific end. At night, when I’m drifting to sleep in my nice hotel bed, I think about them again and wonder what they’re doing at that moment. I saw Ingrid Newkirk from PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) speak recently and she mentioned that researchers have noticed that cows appear to have eureka moments. This happens when we “get” something or understand something for the first time. You know, a light bulb above the head. What does this say about a cow’s ability to perceive and feel fear? On the positive side, Barcelona, Spain has banned bullfighting with an overwhelming majority of its citizens happy to see it go. Why are we starting to examine animal suffering so closely? Perhaps because we can no longer ignore it or deny it.

The BC Machine grinds its way from show to show. Please come out and hear what all the fuss is about. We currently have six songs in the top ten. Well, that’s not quite right. But we will have a new 19 song CD, called HOLIDAYS, available very soon. Wait till you see it. You’ll want to eat it or at least stare at it for a couple of seconds. It’s a slice of the life of our stupid little band. So, look at our itinerary page and look at your calendar and look to see how many frequent flyer miles you’ve accumulated and give yourself a much-needed vacation. We’re trying to hit all the major quadrants. And, have you heard that a left-handed bassist is hanging out with us on stage (backstage, too) these days? Her name is Ann Marie Harrop. She lives in Austin, but is originally from Louisiana. Her fingernails are black. Also, Danny is singing as well as trumpeteering. I’m sorry, but this is a freak-show. I wonder what will happen next. Tim Walsh is sneaking in and out, too. He’s pretty weird. He joins us full-time in September or October, but he’ll be around the first part of August (J & J Blues Bar, Czech Hall in Yukon, Oklahoma) and, I believe, at the Sons of Hermann Hall in Dallas on August 27. What a delightfully organic gooey mess Brave Combo has become. I’ve noticed when it’s 100 degrees and 100% humidity I sweat a lot more than usual.

When I was 14, almost 15, years old, my three-piece rock band, The Night Raiders, auditioned one Sunday afternoon, to play at the Teen Canteen, a city-run kid hangout, on the Arkansas side of Texarkana. The manager of the club seemed to like us okay, but asked us to come back and audition again the next week. We saw this as a good thing. We knew we were younger than most bands and definitely not as tough, so we agreed to come back and probably thanked the man profusely. We returned the following Sunday and noticed another band was there watching us this time. They were The Lords of Sound, one of the most successful groups in Texarkana. We rocked the best we could in the funky, cavernous sunlit Teen Canteen, which I would have called seedy, but it was one of the only real gigs in town. So we tore it up and were offered a date. Later that day I got a call from Harvey Lee Bradford, the manager of The Lords of Sound, and he told me that today’s audition was for his band to check me out and he asked me to join them as lead guitarist. Of course, this meant leaving Hershel and John, the other two Night Raiders, but it was time to hang with the Bradfords. Harvey’s son, Randy, played drums with The Lords of Sound. He was hipper than I was and, although we were the same age, also more experienced in the wild side of life. But we hit it off. The whole band did. It was great. It was beyond great. This seemed as real as Texarkana could get. We played a lot. We wore super groovy clothes. Mr. Bradford bought us equipment. We had a dual manual Farfisa organ with two Leslie cabinets, we had a huge padded Kustom PA system and Randy played a flashy, swirly, dual bass drum Slingerland kit. It was an environment of constant high drama and lots of fun. People were always yelling and screaming and then laughing. And we lords were loud as Hell! That’s when I lost most of my hearing. I can remember specific moments where it felt like my ears were being stabbed by ice picks. Cool. I can never thank the Bradfords enough for welcoming me into their world and showing me another point of view just as valid the Finches. Anyway, my old friend Randy Bradford died of cancer last month. I’d heard he was sick about two weeks earlier. The only real point to this story is that Randy’s death forced me to reflect on the richness of my life and the impact his life had on me. In some ways, Randy always represented the beginning to me. Harvey died several years ago. Randy’s mother and his sisters still live in the Texarkana area, I think.

And, speaking of mothers, mine is moving to Denton very soon. So, I must sink into overwhelmed-ness now and try to crawl back out. I’m glad I don’t have a skyscraper to build. Okay, let’s get busy.